#Wren has barely been mentioned as much as the other girls

[godofthestupid]

and the curtain closes for act 2!

I like how things developed,how it escalated and the little cliffhanger at the end

though I gotta say,Richard feels...off? There seemed to be an attempt at making him understandable but it kinda fell flat on me. Maybe Act 3 and 4 dive more into why he became like that or maybe it's a "well this happened because of this simple reason,no more depth to that" kinda situation.

anyway,I like the little references to Bacchus/Dionysus. As the god of theatre,but also alcohol and madness,he truly is the most fitting Greek God to be mentioned all throughout

A lot like The Secret History,where he played a more background role,always there but never in the limelight except for the bacchanalia

or is he just fitting for Dark Academia type books? Having themes of both alcohol,party,but also madness,panic

partying,or much rather consuming until someone dies and then the madness creeps up on everyone,consuming their lives and souls

[soggyjulpod]

—blaster shots & confessions

[sabine wren x fem!reader]

a/n: this was a self-indulgent piece bc there’s barely any sabine content out there but i guess y’all can enjoy it too🙄🙄

warning: mention of injury, slight angst, sabine is a worry-wart, emotional fluff

word count: 1.7k

—

the first three things [y/n] noticed when she woke up was a slight pain on her side and head, the mop of colorful hair resting on the edge of the bed she was laying in, and a hand holding hers. speaking of which, a bed she had no recollection of getting in. 

she tries to sit up but stops as a sharp pain erupted in her side. the girl winces, at the slight sound of her discomfort sabine’s head shoots up, “hey, hey don’t try to move.” 

“what happened?” [y/n] asks as sabine helps her lay back down with the hand that wasn't clutched, “do you remember that kanan assigned us to intercept an imperial shipment?” 

“yeah, we were supposed to get relief supplies but…” [y/n] trails off, unsure of what happened during the mission. she looks to her friend to fill in the gap in her memory.

“we got into some trouble and had to split up. you got shot [y/n] when we were apart, the blaster shot hit your side. you fell over and hit your head really hard.” sabine explains, “you’ve been out for six days.” [y/n]’s eyes popped out, “oh karabast” she exclaims. 

“we were all so worried.” sabine says with an unreadable expression on her face. “well it's a good thing i’m awake now,” [y/n] smiles.

“how are you feeling?” sabine asks. “like shit.” the two girls laugh. it was good that she at least still had her humor.

“i’ll go get the medic and let the others know you’re awake.” the mandalorian says before giving her hand a squeeze and leaving her friend in their recovery room.

her face heated up as she thought, was sabine with me this entire time? was she also holding my hand the entire time?

the thought of the girl she’d been crushing on for the past year and half staying by her side for days brought butterflies in her stomach. she stares at the hand that sabine had been holding ever since she had awoken.

“hey there stranger.” a voice jokes bringing her out of her thoughts. “hera!” she beams, instantly recognizing the voice. the twi’lek sits down at the edge of the bed.

“you gave us all a scare, especially sabine.” hera says, [y/n] lets out a noise of acknowledgement. “you know she barely left your side when you were unconscious, she cares so much for you.” hera noted. a small flush creeps onto [y/n]’s face, “yeah she’s a great friend.” she agrees, pursing her lips, it almost physically hurt her to call sabine her friend when she harbored such strong feelings for her so called friend.

hera gives her a quizzical glance. [y/n] notices the weird look on hera’s face, “what?” she asks. the twi’lek laughs to herself, “nothing.” 

moments after, the rest of the crew piled in along with the medic to check up on her.

—

slowly but surely [y/n] was recovering, sabine had practically been glued to her side the entire time. sabine had been there to bring her food and help her change her bandages once she was discharged out of the recovery room.

the fall to her head had messed up her coordination and balance but after a few weeks with the help of sabine she had been able to regain her ability to walk again.

currently the girls were in an intense game of sabacc in their shared quarters.

“hey [y/n], kanan needs you.” it was hera, the twi’lek enters room. [y/n] gets up to leave, “let me help you.” sabine says swooping in to help. “sabine, i can walk by myself.” [y/n] says, shooing her away and leaves the room.

“how’s she feeling?” hera asks as she sits down across from the mandalorian. “good, she can walk around now and her spirits are up, she’s really been liking to play card games recently.” she smiles motioning to the sabacc cards sprawled over the table. 

“you should tell her,” hera says blunty, the girl gives her a puzzled look. “tell her what?” she stammers feigning confusion.

the twi’lek laughs, “don’t play dumb with me sabine. i’ve seen the way you look at her. it's painfully obvious to everyone but her that you like her.” sabine felt her face flush. 

“i don't know what youre talking about,” she denies. hera chuckles, “whatever kid. just do it before it’s too late.” with that [y/n] came back in, leaving sabine to understand hera’s slightly cryptic message.

“are you ok? you look a little lost” [y/n] says looking at her friend. “yeah i’m fine, its nothing” she lies.

—

it had been over five weeks since [y/n] got shot and she felt good as new. hera and kanan had been unsure about assigning her to a mission so soon, after all she had just recently gained fully coordinated mobility. but with the reassurance of the medic, the pair now had full confidence in her.

[y/n] sat in her room preparing for her mission when sabine burst in. “what the hell [y/n]?! hera and kanan just told me they assigned you to a mission with ezra!” she shouts with a furious expression on her face. [y/n] jumps in surprise, clutching at her chest.

“force sabine! you scared the shit out of me.” [y/n] laughs but she quickly stops as she realizes the expression on her friend’s face.

“you can’t be going on missions without me.” she exclaims with her hands on her hips. the girl frowns at her friend’s behavior.

“thanks for the concern but i'll be fine sabine. the medic already cleared me for missions last week.” [y/n] reassures her friend. she gets up to leave but the mandalorian’s hand grabs her wrist.

“the last time we were apart, you got shot.” she scoffs giving her a hard gaze. [y/n] sighs, “sabine, i’m ok now, there’s no need to worry. plus i’ll have the galaxy’s most annoying jedi with me.” she attempts to joke.

“no, you’re not understanding.” the mandalorian’s voice was stern but had a slight quiver to it. “then help me understand.” [y/n] pleads softly.

sabine struggles to put her words together, she has never been an outwardly emotional person, hell, it took her months to fully be comfortable around [y/n]. with their friendship she’d always been more of a listener than a talker, she recalled on multiple occasions when [y/n] would tell her about personal and intimate topics. sabine always appreciated those moments, it was just a little reminder of how [y/n] saw her as trustworthy. but now it was her turn to let out what was eating her up from the inside.

“i thought you were going to die for a moment,” her voice was a whisper, for all the time [y/n] had known sabine she had never seen her so emotional and vulnerable. “when i found you there was so much blood on your head. my heart was beating so fast i thought it was going to jump out. i was so scared. even when we got back to base and the medic stabilized you, i was terrified, i couldn’t leave you. kanan and hera basically had to force me to eat and sleep. seeing you like that was my worst nightmare. and it’s all my fault, i left you.” she cried out her emotions. 

that's when [y/n] understood, sabine wasn’t angry at her, she was scared and blamed herself.

sabine’s eyes were glassy and her breaths were shaky. [y/n] cups sabine’s face with her hands, the mandalorian leans into her touch. “i just can't lose you.” she cries out, her eyes shut and tears fall. “sabine. please look at me,” she breathes out. the colorful haired girl opens her eyes, sniffling a bit. “none of what happened was your fault, it was just bad luck. don’t blame yourself.”

the two girls now stared at each other, neither of them being sure what to do in their position.

it was now or never

“[y/n] i need to tell you something,” the mandalorian says as her shaky hands reach up to grab [y/n]’s. “i never thought i would ever say it to you but...” her jittery voice trails off. she takes a deep breath to compose herself, 

“i love you, [y/n], i’m so in love with you” 

the mandalorian kept her gaze down, waiting for a response. [y/n]’s eyes widened, she almost couldn’t believe the words that just came out sabine’s mouth, but a smile creeped onto her face.

“i love you too” she says, squeezing their hands together. sabine’s head perked up, a small smile graced her features. 

“really?” she muttered, “yeah, really, like a lot.” [y/n] giggles. their faces were mere inches apart, the mandalorian’s eyes flicker down to her lips.

and without a thought sabine presses her lips to hers. [y/n]’s arms instinctively wrap around sabine’s neck, pulling her closer. the mandalorian’s arms snake around her waist to hold her. the kiss was sloppy because of the excitement between them but they didn’t mind one bit. the kiss seemed to go on forever, so many buried feelings between them were spilling out.

the two pulled apart, both of them having goofy, love sick grins on their faces.

“i can't believe it took me getting shot for you to confess.” [y/n] laughs out. “i know.” sabine sniffles out but with a smile on her face.

“[y/n]!” she hears hera call her, breaking up the tender moment. the two girls laugh at the awful timing.

“i guess that's my cue.” [y/n] turns to leave their room but a hand stops her again, she turns around to sabine. “come back to me in one piece.” 

“you got it.” she says then giving her now girlfriend a peck on the lips. as [y/n] leaves the room, sabine sits back down on the bottom bunk. both girls having a smile plastered on their face as they continued on with their day.

[themanip]

alternate routes

SYNOPSIS — how do you go throughout life? well, you find someone you like. get to know them. start dating. break up a few times, get back together. get married. have some kids. die old. typical. fucking in a back room of an awards show, not once, but twice as complete strangers, was definitely not how most relationships start out.

PAIRING — taehyung x metzi (oc) WARNINGS — descriptions of cheating, fliphones, mentions of getting laid, really bad intros tbh, the introvert line being introverts, and girls who are rlly bad at timing, an asshole named ryan, cursing WORD COUNT — just over 3.1k AUTHOR’S NOTE — hi! i am so fucking bad at writing the first chapter or two, i promise if you can bear the beginning of this story, it gets better. i have two and a half chapters written so far but i am writing super often! once a few more chapters get published i will create a masterlist. please enjoy and if you have any comments or recs don’t hesitate to let me know!! :)))

𝟏: 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐄 

𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖 ⇥ The universe known to man is a labyrinth—an irregular maze, a passage that cannot be routed—and to understand that took more than an average mind. The matter was far too complicated than any obsolete man to comprehend on a whim. Millenia passed before galaxies were formed, planets were created, all unbeknownst to the stars bursting just miles apart.

From early amphibians, to the ice age, to cavemen, evolution has made great strides in every species. Humans in the past were variants called homosapiens, and most likely came from chimpanzees. Great strides like this were something to be proud of, you'd think.

When Metzi Ludovic realized that birds can fly with natural evolution, while humans had to industrialize it (thanks to the Wright brothers) she was pretty distraught. As an imaginative and critical eight-year old, fifteen years later, not much had changed. Currently, she was pondering over the fact that humans are one of the few species with opposable thumbs.

Majority of animals had not yet evolutionized to create opposable thumbs. While frantic over this, she also imagined her beautiful Pomeranian, with thumbs popping out of his paws. Her thoughts were quickly subdued, thanks to her coherent thoughts making an appearance. As cool as it would be, all other animals would devour humans if they gained that ability.

Is that the only reason humans are all mighty? They can industrialize and aim properly due to their adaptations, so that they somehow became top of the food chain?

Thankfully, she was redacted from her thoughts as her manager, Emmy, let out a distressed sigh. "Wren, we cannot change your outfit again. You look beautiful," At this point, looking at Wren, she knew that she would look good. Somehow, she couldn't convince herself.

"Wren, we can switch. I don't hate green, so you can take blue if you want it. I really don't mind," Metzi smiled softly, and she knew it was the right thing to offer as Wren's face lit up, a few tears being wiped away. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just do me a favor and loosen the ties on that, please. I have had way too many tacos yesterday to fit into it with the strings that tight," a small laugh left her mouth, and as she laid on the comfortable sofa. It was plush, but somehow offered no lumbar support. Who the hell makes a couch so soft, yet so unbearable for convenience of naps?

Selfish, she thought.

This dressing room was beautiful, so you'd think they'd have enough funds to make a decent couch. She could enjoy the aesthetics of the room, anyways. A luxurious baby pink covered the walls, and was bordered by pristine white. Plush gray carpet was under her feet, and was stain free. With Malorie in here, that probably wouldn't last long.

She was over by the double mirrors, applying powder over her face. She was so beautiful, Metzi couldn't fathom why she insisted on so much makeup. The same could be said about herself, so she kept her somewhat inner misogynistic comments at bay. She was pretty quiet, but something was off. She wasn't usually this quiet, so Metzi shot her a text.

She was very personal, and barely talked about what bothered her. Occasionally, Metzi would get her to open up, which she could physically see the relief on her face as she broke down. A brief, but to the point was written out on Metzi's phone.

you don't seem okay. wanna talk about it? Read 2:33 PM

The three dots popped up, and Metzi's attention was quickly brought to Vida, who sat down next to her, letting out a sigh. "How much longer until Olive gets here? I'm so close to taking a nap," Vida quickly put her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"It's only two, so I imagine not for a good hour or so, a nap sounds kind of nice," Wren commented, stood in the other corner of the room, with Emmy helped her undo the straps of her outfit. Her green silk top complimented her skin perfectly, but Metzi knew it was too late to convince her.

"Well, I'm out, wake me up when she gets here," Vida quickly blurts, and her head is now comfortably laying on the arm of the sofa. "I'll get up, I have to go to the bathroom anyways," Metzi commented, sighing before getting up.

Silence followed, and the blonde decided to take a look at her phone. A text was sent back on Malorie's behalf, and she widened her eyes momentarily. Standing still, she turned back to look at her. A face of guilt was evident, and she tried her best to hold her breath.

i have something to tell you, i'm not supposed to. i just feel so bad knowing while you don't i really shouldn't have said anything forget it

meet me in the bathroom

Read 2:37PM

Metzi's mind was in a whirlwind, and she couldn't think of anything she'd be referring to. Of course, it was useless, because clearly she wasn't meant to know about it. She hurried out of the room, the last thing she heard was Wren complaining once more about her outfit.

The hallways were empty, mostly because they'd came so early, and Metzi took her time reaching the bathroom. It was communal, so she really hoped that nobody else was here yet. The awards were meant to start in a few hours, and considering they had three faces to paint with makeup, early was a necessity.

"I hope you won't be mad at me," A small, timid voice aired behind her. The blonde turned around, and clutched her phone in fear. "I'm not, please tell me what's going on,"

As Malorie opened her phone, Metzi tapped her foot anxiously.

God, she really had to piss.

The brunette looked up at her, and showed her a photo.

"What is that?"

"That, was Ryan. On Saturday."

Ryan was her boyfriend of six years. An anxious cramping formed in her stomach at the mixture of his name and the tone of Malorie's voice. The photo she was now staring at made her want to vomit. Her stomach was now doing somersaults.

In the photo, it was indeed Ryan, in Metzi's own bed, with a mop of curly red hair under him. Most was covered by the sheets, but it was enough to come to the correct conclusion. He was clearly enjoying it too, judging by his face. Upon further inspection, she noticed something odd.

Grabbing the phone out of Malorie's hand, she zoomed in. On her nightstand, where a picture of the two usually sat, was now face down. While he fucked another woman in her bed, he turned her face down.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she took a deep breath in.

What happened Saturday? She was home mostly all day, so when did he have time to do this?

"What—how did you get this?"

"I came to give you your present, and I heard something. Y'know since you gave me keys? I figured it was okay to come in, and your bedroom door was open. I knew Ryan would try to make me the liar, so I took a picture. He told me that if I told you," Malorie pursed her lips, "well he threatened to do something pretty fucked up."

"Holy fuck," Metzi whispered, "I just—I had no fucking clue. This entire time, and who knows how long he's been fucking her?"

One lonesome tear fell down her cheek. In anger or sadness, Malorie didn't know.

Opening her phone, she opened Ryan's contact. "Hey," Malorie whispered, her voice now soft. "If he tells you anything about me, promise you won't believe him?"

"Of course, you come first. Always."

She debated on whether or not to call him, but instead opted on a text.

I hope you enjoyed fucking merida, we're done. get your things out of my house by tomorrow. delete my number.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and a smile adorned her face. Her bladder problems now the least of her concerns, she started back for the dressing room. Emmy now sat at the vanity, on her phone, and Vida and Wren were basically cuddling.

Surprised at the sudden intrustion, all eyes landed on the pair standing in the doorway.

"Ryan cheated on me, so now we're all single." Metzi gave nobody the chance to respond, as if anyone could think of what to say, and took a deep breath in.

"I haven't been fucked in months, and now I know why. So, I'm gonna get laid tonight, feel free to join me."

All seven of them had their faces beat to perfection, their outfits tailored and steamed of any wrinkles. They looked absolutely impeccable, as if the world around them kissed their feet. Hell, some reporters actually acted like that.

The members of BTS were now known worldwide, and it seemed that they were sought after by nearly everyone. Each member was so unique—so captivating in every aspect. Personalities somehow intertwine perfectly, yet polar opposites sometimes.

Proud but humble men, they basked in the warmth of positive attention. All eyes were on them for now, and they proudly understood it. As they walked on the red carpet of the music event, Yoongi and Jungkook both hated what they would be forced to do in mere minutes. As self-declared introverts, social interactions were about to start, and they honestly would rather sit in the corner and get this over with.

They would meet a few smaller artists, an occasional household name, (which they would fawn over for the rest of the night) and then be on their way. It would probably be in a few news articles, and some artists would insist on pictures, and they would be spread around within minutes. It was the same routine, and almost every time they would speak as little as possible, save for Namjoon, and would discuss it later. Hollywood was English dominated, and they despised it.

"Right now we only have to meet one group, and then we're okay for a few hours," Namjoon spoke quietly and quickly, and they piled off of the red carpet into a building. The hallways were scary, dark and empty, but a light above them quickly lit up.

To their surprise, the hallway was beautiful. The walls were an navy blue, white accents on top and bottom. Numerous gold paintings and records lined the walls, and it seemed to go on forever.

"Who is it we're supposed to be meeting? This hallway is a bit sketchy," Jimin perked up, and Namjoon chuckled. "WB,"

"Who is that?"

"I can't remember what their name stands for, but they sing that one song," Namjoon goes on to hum the tune to a familiar song that got pretty big, and all of the members start singing along. Of course, the lyrics are completely off and the tune is absolutely horrid, but they all recognize it vaguely.  

All numbly following Namjoon, he was taking rough instructions from their manager to get there. This was not how it usually happened, but he had said something urgent came up. He had told Namjoon how to get there, and he knew that they were smart enough to make it without breaking a couple ligaments.

"Group? I thought it was one singer," Jin commented, and Taehyung nodded in agreement. "I would have never thought it was more than one. Are they American?"

"I guess we're going to find out," he snickered, and they all stopped at the corner. The door was slightly creaked open, and soft laughter could be heard. It was feminine, soft. It sounded like pure happiness was inside that door.

To double check, Namjoon eyed the sign on the door.

A large, black WB was written so even the partially blind could read. It was odd, the only dressing room out of probably at least a hundred, was all the way back, alone. They had no time to question it before Jin took a few strides forward, and boasted his English abilites.

"Come on-uh, guys."

The rest of them burst into laughter, and Namjoon quickly followed suit, knowing Jin would not be the prime candidate for introductions. He would simply utter a few English words, turn to Namjoon for help, and in panic, make a really bad play on words in Korean.

Timidly, Namjoon's knuckles rapped on the already-open door, accidentally pushing it further open a bit. "Come in!"

They were met with three girls stuffing their faces with chocolate cake, and another laying on the floor, fiddling with a.. flip-phone?

Jin grimaced at the reminder, glad it wasn't pink.

All eyes awkwardly met at the realization, and two of the three muffling down cake choked a bit. "Emmy, I thought you said 5:30?" Malorie was the one to ask, but none of the boys knew that.

"It is 5:30,"

The cake was swallowed within seconds, the flip-phone was now laying on the table, untouched. Four girls scrambled up simultaneously, and watched as the rest of the men piled in. An awkward stout of silence followed, and this so called Emmy, rose and met the boys first.

She had a firm grip, and introduced herself as their manager. The situation was humorous to say the least, these girls who could pass off as teenagers, were standing in single file in shame. The first was a beautiful girl with a large afro, and she kept a tight smile. She did not know who they were, nor did she really care. She introduced herself as Wren.

Next, was a taller woman, who seemed a hint older, with large winged eyeliner. She was Vida. Jin's first instinct was that she reminded him of him, she was definitely the oldest. Then, a smaller girl with a thick smile and soft curls was next. Soft hands, gentle grip. Her name was Malorie.

The last, was a young woman with blonde hair. Realistically, she didn't have any defining features besides her hair, she was the average American-looking girl. She introduced herself as Metzi, and to their surprise, bowed.

"It's really nice to meet you guys," Emmy let out a soft chuckle, and Namjoon nodded tightly. "Are you performing tonight?" It was Malorie who had asked, a soft question. "Yes, actually,"

"I heard you are as well," Namjoon replied, hoping to end the small talk quickly. "Yes we are! I'm surprised you've heard of us, I mean we're not huge."

She wasn't lying, but they definitely weren't small, either. Sixth biggest girlgroup of all time by album sales just behind TLC. Thirtieth on the most followed Spotify artist. Their debut album was certified Gold in six countries. Humble was the key to success, though.

"I'm not sure how big they are in the States, but aren't they pretty well known in Korea?" Yoongi spoke, but of course he wasn't talking to the girls, he was talking to his bandmates. He also spoke in Korean, which is why he nearly had a heart attack when a very feminine voice responded in Korean as well.

"We're big in Korea? I knew we were pretty well known in Japan, but I never really knew about that," It was the blonde one, Metzi. All seven members were in shock, the way she spoke it so effortlessly. If she didn't look the way she did, she could pass off as Native Korean by language alone.

"I know South Korea is very conservative and insistent upon how they operate things, and we're probably the farthest thing from it. I just was under the impression that we didn't fit the mold to do well there," Metzi continued talking, and Wren, Vida and Malorie had absolutely no clue what was going on or being discussed.

Had this been in Spanish, all the girls could have participated. Metzi just insisted on learning Korean, though.

They didn't seem too bothered, though, instead more humored.

"She's been waiting to use that one, huh?" Vida whispered, laughing lightly. "You're not wrong, Korea is known to be very conservative, however, that doesn't mean you have to fit stereotypes to break Korea or any other Asian country for that matter," Namjoon spoke in English this time, and finally the other three girls got a whiff of the conversation.

"We are the farthest thing from ideal boy-groups in America, and we broke it for the most part. Obviously a lot of it is due to our fan base, but point still stands." Seokjin broke in, the conversation now half Korean, half English.

"Good to know," Metzi said softly, a grin on her face.

"How did you learn Korean?" Taehyung spoke up in curiousity, and crinkled his eyes. "I started learning a few years ago before we kind of blew up, and when we visited Korea a few times, I just picked it up a bit. Still a lot I don't know, but I can speak pretty fluently now."

Taehyung nodded in understanding, silently applauding her ability to simply pick up on a language. He doesn't think he will ever gain fluency in English, no matter how hard he'd try. It was a lot harder than he imagined it to be.

"I'm gonna be honest, from media portrayals you guys are made out to be asshats, but you seem pretty down to Earth. Nice to know the fame doesn't get to your head, you know?"

Now it was Wren speaking, and a few snickers sounded from Jungkook and Jimin's mouth. "Asshat," Jimin repeated softly, and they broke into more laughter.

"We appreciate that, thank you. Ignore them," Hoseok spoke this time, a large smile adorning his face. "We will watch your performance tonight, and cheer you on."

"Ditto," Metzi responded in English this time, and Hobi's eyes crinkled in confusion. "Same to you," she clarified in Korean, and he nodded.

They said their goodbyes, and Metzi told all the girls to bow. Namjoon and Vida had a brief talk, and it was no time before BTS and WB were now separate, discussing the events that had just taken place.

The talk of the night was the mysterious blonde girl who spoke fluent Korean. 

taglist: @princessoftheroad​ <3

[jessiebanethedragon]

Scuttle (2/?) Crosshair x reader

Part two warnings: mentions of death, death of loved one (sorry) 

Crosshair quickly decides he likes the rain. It’s got a way of blending in so nicely with the rest of the planet that he thinks it would be bland without it.

“Anything?” Hunter asked into the comms, and various grunts and groans of ‘negative’ filled his ear. They’d landed in what looked like an abandoned house, it was situated in the branches of a very tall, and very old tree. How anyone would have managed to climb it was a mystery. 

“How do we even know what we’re lookin’ for?” Wrecker grumbled as they rappelled down the enormous trunk. 

“All we’ve got is that they answer to the name Wren apparently it’s some animal on this planet.” Hunter grumbled, looking over a tech, expecting a lengthy explanation of what exactly a ‘Wren’ was. 

“Fairywren are small birds that  live in typical families of small groups, they come in brilliant colours of purple and blue. Very rare in the galaxy, but common to this planet.” Tech immediately replied, as their feet crunched into the ground. 

“Okay, Bad batch, let's make this quick.” The sergeant ordered before taking off into the undergrowth. 

It had been hours and they were no closer to coming across anyone or  anything that looked like a Fairywren. Keeping to the outskirts of a small town crosshair watches as a group of Trandoshan guards (from the look of their intense armour) patrolled the streets. 

“What are they doing?” He thought aloud to himself, toothpick ever present in his mouth. His concentration broke when he heard someone laughing at him. A group of teenagers were sitting under a broken piece of metal. 

“What does it look like, Laserbrain?” one of them sneered. “The trandoshans are only good for one thing. The hunt.” Crosshair doubled his pace. 

You were running faster than you ever had before, and for longer than you thought was physically possible. Your one and only advantage was the extent of your knowledge of the forest paths. The guards would be faster and run longer, they had keener senses than any human, and you knew if they put out a warrant, anyone and everyone would turn you in. But you were so close. So, so close. 

It was called the Night Lake by the locals, the canopy here was so dense no light illuminated the water below, giving the area a terrifying essence. But also ensured much needed privacy, and in this particular case, somewhere to hide. You threw yourself into the waters, letting the slightly chilly water envelop you. At least four of them had been on your tail and you knew more of them were waiting at the edge of the city, should you try and circle back. 

You swam as deep as you could manage, before stilling in the water, suspended in perfect anxiety as you watched its surface for any movement. Flares began to light up the dark sky and the water below as they tried to clear the area for your whereabouts. Closing your eyes you prayed to anything listening for them not to find you. 

Turns out. No one was listening. 

Crosshair was sprinting in the forest, creatures disturbed by his arrival scattered in every direction. The Trandoshans had taken off moments before answering a call that he couldn't interpret. But his experience and intuition told him to follow. 

It was then that he faltered and fell down the edge of a small but very muddy hill, being followed only by more water filled dirt that almost buried him. Cursing he pulled himself up, checking his whereabouts for signs of a trap. 

“So small for such trouble.” Something hissed to his right, clearly unaware of the clone that had just tumbled into their presence. His eyes snapped forward, four Trandoshans sat at the edge of what was the largest and darkest lake Crosshair had ever seen. 

“Shall we let her drown or yank her out ourselves?” One asked with a snicker. 

“The general wants her alive, something about having fun while making an example.” The first one spoke again. “Right, enough is enough, Drisk get her out of there.” with a nod towards the water, Crosshair watched as the slimmest Trandoshan (who was probably still twice the size of the sniper) dove into the black waters. The ripples dissipated for a moment before the reptile emerged carrying a struggling young girl. She was sopping wet, and struggling and turning so much they had no choice but to dump her in the mud. 

“Now, now little roach, don't run off.” The leader laughed as she started to claw her way through the mud, reaching down he grasped her ankle and yanked her into the arms of the other two reptilians. Crosshair lined up his rifle, he could take out the two grasping the girl and then worry about the leader after. He had the Trandoshans in his sight when his comm crackled to life again. 

“Crosshair, you missed your check in time, you still out there?” it was Tech, curse him and his punctuality. Because now the other two huge beings were dragging him out of his hiding place. 

“Well, would you take a look at this. A clone!” Crosshair was forced to his knees in front of the leader as it spat at him.   

“Crosshair! Come in!” Tech shouted into the helmet, thus resulting in it’s not-so gentle removal from Crosshairs head. He watched as Tech’s voice faded away as the bucket rolled into the lake. 

“Now that the rude interruption is gone, you wanna tell us whatcha up to in these parts?” he said kneeling down and meeting his newest captive eye to eye.

“Bird watching.” Crosshair deadpanned. Really not feeling in a chatty mood at that present moment.  

“Really?” the reptile hummed in thought, pretending to actually believe his answer. “Have you seen any birds yet?” 

“No.” Crosshair told him with a smile, “Saw some Bantha-shit - looking lizards though.”He didn't see the flying fist coming, but he sure as hell felt it. 

You clamp you both of your hands over your mouth. Hard. in the smallest attempt to muffle your screams. You can't tell the difference from lake water, rain water, and tears. But you know you’re wailing at an unforgiving volume. Your mother's blank eyes stare at you. A single blaster to the head. Your father, you got a blaster to the face is now unrecognizable. You don’t know which is worse. Krexx didn't even bother to keep you restrained, knowing that the horror of what he made you witness would be enough to paralyze you into compliance. The sound of conflict falls on deaf ears as you continue to shriek from your converter of what once was the family home. 

The Clone, whose name you either didn't know or couldn't remember, was cuffed to one of the ceiling's support beams by a pair of binders, only just coming to a hit to the head like that will do you in. you watch him lift  his head with a groan, the tattoo on his face covered by layers of mud. He starts pulling at the binders before his eyes meet the figure in the corner. 

You’re curled in a fetal position, still screaming bloody murder into your hands. And barely, Crosshair sees that the fingerless gloves you wear are embroidered with a bird. A bright blue bird. 

“Wren.” He grunted out, the pieces all coming together as his brain shakes the fuzz away. You don't move. “Wren!” he shouts over your tears. And you fall into more of a silent  sob, looking over at him. “I need you to get these off of me.” he gestures to the binders with a shake of his hands. You recoil in the corner and shake your head, your cries are picking up volume again. 

“Wren, please” Crosshair all but begs. The sound of battle is getting closer and closer. “I need you to uncuff me.” His voice  barely registers in your brain. You know you have to move but you feel like you physically can't. There’s no fight or flight left in you, and it appears your entire system has short circuited as a result.   

“We are both going to die if you don’t get me out of  these kriffin’ binders!” Crosshair renewed his struggles as he shouts at you. But one look at you says that would be a preferable outcome for your current state. So, he switches tactics and tries to remember everything Tech has ever told him about shock and trauma. 

“Wren,” he tries once again, softer this time. “I can help you, I can help you out of this. But I can't do that if you don't get these off of me.” Your eyes meet his. ‘Progress’ he thinks. You don't know how you do it, but you try to stand. 

“Just keep looking at me, okay?” The clone who you don't know speaks again, and your eyes meet his. You stare not into his eyes, more like past them. You're not focusing on anything you're just taking one step after another until you reach where he’s awkwardly strewn up. 

“There's a release button on the-” He starts to tell you, but you're already reaching up with shaky hands and fumbling around until they drop to the floor with a horrible clank. Immediately Crosshair jumps into action checking by each window and door and gathering all he can in terms of intel. 

“We need to move, before anyone-” He trails off again when he’s seen that you’ve slid down the wall that he was against. Curling back into a ball. Slowly, he approaches you. He knows the protocol for a clone with shock, but what you're going through looks completely different all together. And Crosshair, well, let's just say there was never any training for caring for a civilian girl whose entire life just got destroyed. 

“My name is Crosshair.” He whispers to you, crouching down to our height. You look at him with wide eyes. “Is it okay if I carry you to a safer spot?” You nod in response fumbling with your arms to lock them around his tall frame. His strength surprises you, as he lifts you with relative ease. And slowly the adrenaline wears off and you sink into his arms, vaguely you feel him pull your head into his shoulder the blasts sound deafening now as he runs through the uproar caused by the execution of an innocent family. Your family. Crosshair tells himself he pulls you closer so that you are not recognized. And that he does it so you don't have to see that carnage. But mostly he does it in hopes that you feel just a little more safe, and a little more calm in his arms.  

tags: @mangoberry43 

[the-obiwan-for-me]

The Care and Feeding of Clan Kryze- Kenobi

At some point in “She Said the Word” (My Obitine AU), Tol’ket mentions being an expert on the care and feeding of Bo-Katan Kryze. Which made me wonder, what DOES Bo like to eat? Which then made me wonder about everyone else.

So, here it is, the definitive guide on the Care and Feeding of Clan Kryze-Kenobi.

Obi-Wan: Obi-Wan would have not called himself picky as a young man, but it took him a long time to adjust to the overwhelming spiciness that seems to be ubiquitous with traditional Mandalorian cuisine. The kitchen staff learned early on to dial down the heat for his sake….and be sure to provide appropriate condiments for the Duchess and her typical Mandalorian palate. Still, despite that, he is a game and adventurous eater, as long as the food isn’t trying to set his face on fire. But, if he had his way, he’d happily eat nerf burgers for the rest of his life.

Satine: Beyond her love for traditional Mandalorian cuisine, Satine is polite enough to eat what is set before her, but that doesn’t mean she will enjoy it. The one thing she does love, almost universally, is fruit, and hasn’t really found any type that she doesn’t enjoy. Some sort of fresh fruit can be found at all meals in the Kryze-Kenobi household.

Anakin: Food scarcity was a real thing for Anakin in his early childhood, so he will eat, quite literally, anything. He’s a bit fussy about meat, though, as the rare occasions he ate meat as a child were not great experiences. Tough, gamey, stringy roasted womp rats and off bantha meat just aren’t a great way to set up a kid for wanting to eat meat. As an adult, he tends to avoid it, only eating it when politeness dictates.

Padme: Like Satine, Padme was raised to politely eat whatever was set before her. Unlike Satine, she almost always enjoys everything. She’s never been picky, even as a small girl, and it has served her well in her life in politics. State dinners hosted by a wide assortment of species can mean some very odd, traditional meals, and, for the most part, she hasn’t found anything off putting. Except for the Mandalorians and their desire to blast their sinuses with heat. Despite the many shared meals she has had with her Mando’ade in-laws, she still finds herself coughing and sputtering at least once per meal. Padme does have a bit of sweet tooth and loves cookies, her favorite being, unbelievably, those mass produced blue wafer cookies. There is always a sleeve of them in her desk in her senate office. Always.

Korkie: Korkie loves food. All food. Any food. And he enjoys making his family squirm with the things he willing, eagerly tries when they are traveling. On his bucket list of foods to eat is a Felucian snail. Senator Orn Free Taa had told him about them when he was a small boy, and while the original tale had made him queasy, now all he wants is the chance to try one. He does also have a rabid sweet tooth, particularly for candy. 

Lily: Despite her bold and wild way of living, Lily struggles to eat in the same manner. If she had her way, she’d eat nothing but one particular meal and jogan fruit for the rest of her days. But she tries to be adventurous, if for no other reason as to not be shown up by her big brothers. In fact, because of her penchant to eat whatever they ate, it was often a game for them, as children, to see what they could get her to eat by them eating it first. She built a high tolerance for eating absolute garbage because of that dumb game, so can and will survive if she has to. Her one no-go is meat. She’s totally skeeved out by eating animals and refuses to do so.

Bo-Katan: Bo started out life much like Satine- too polite not to eat what is in front of her- and while she is more or less still the same, her palate has changed drastically. Life in a secret terrorist organization doesn’t lend itself to fine dining. She tends to be very put off by things that are too sweet, too rich, too fatty, too salty. She likes simple foods (and heat. Lots of heat. The spicier, the better. She’s kriffing Mando’ad, after all). She hates the heavily processed, overly preserved food that seems rampant in soldier life, and avoids things like ration bars and MREs like the plague, only eating them when absolutely necessary. Flat bread and other baked goods are the best way to make an exhausted, underfed, overworked Bo-Katan easier to deal with. 

Tol’ket: He and Bo have a similar palate, though for very different reasons. A soldier raised by a soldier raising a half dozen of his grandchildren meant that food was made to be simple, easy, and in large quantities. So, grown up Tol’ket tends to prefer simple, easy food. Despite that, he has slowly broadened his culinary horizons as Sundari has grown, carefully trying new and different cuisines that aren’t too weird, but definitely not the simple Mandalorian cuisine he grew up on. He’s found he likes a particular noodle dish (Mando cuisine doesn’t really lend itself to noodles...too complicated to make) and on the rare occasion he isn’t eating in his office, he can be found slurping up noodles at that one place he really likes. He also has a serious sweet tooth and an undying love of uj’alayi.

Ahsoka (of course she’s included): Another one who will eat literally anything. Partly due to good etiquette from being raised in the temple, partly due to her ridiculously high Togruta metabolism, there isn’t a meal Ahsoka won’t enjoy. She wasn’t sure about the spiciness of Mandalorian cuisine, but it’s growing on her, and Korkie gave her a bottle of her favorite Mando hot sauce to take with her. Now she can have a little taste of Mandalore wherever she is. She only shares it with Rex, though. Ahsoka also has developed quite the taste for uj’alayi. So much so, in fact, that it is common knowledge that if uj’alayi is being served at a family function she and Tol’ket will both be at, three need to be baked- one for her, one for him, and one for everyone else.

Ursa Wren (honorary ba’vodu): Krownest’s climate doesn’t exactly lend itself to a wildly diverse diet, even for Clan Wren, so Ursa grew up on a fairly simple diet of hunted game, tubers, and berries. Off world food and snacks were rare treats. Ursa doesn’t consider herself picky, which makes Bo-Katan laugh, because Ursa doesn’t know what to make of things like leafy green vegetables. Alrich, whose taste palate is as refined as his art, has slowly worked on expanding her culinary horizons, but, despite Ursa’s proclivity for reading recipes and watching cooking holoshows, she still can barely choke down a green salad and is happiest with a simple stew. She’s trying, though. Those Felucian snails he ordered for them that one time were actually really quite good.

[elliemarchetti]

Red Queen Pride and Prejudice AU (Part 2)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tag list (if you want to be tagged in all my work or only a specific fandom/fic dm me or write an ask): @lilyharvord

Words: 2164

That Miss Skonos and Miss Barrow should meet to talk about the party was perfectly obvious, but the attentive invitation Wren received from Miss Samos and Lady Haven was a real surprise: her gentle manner increased the two's goodwill towards her, and although her mother was considered unbearable and some of her friendships, including Gisa and Tramy, not even worthy of mention, the feeling of wanting to get to know better both her and Mare was openly expressed. Wren received this attention with great pleasure, but Mare still saw arrogance in their behavior towards everyone, barely mitigated in the presence of the homeowner, whose admiration for Wren, reciprocated, was more than evident, although the younger had noticed with pleasure that it wasn’t likely to become public knowledge, since Wren combined a great intensity of the feelings with a composed temperament and a uniform cordiality in the manner, which protected her from impertinent suspicions. Mare talked about it with a dear friend, Miss Farley, the daughter of a colonel discharged after a bad wound that had practically made him blind in one eye.

"Maybe in this case it can be positive", Diana replied, "to be able to hide it from other people, but sometimes to be so wary has its drawbacks. If a woman hides her own affection with the same skill to the one who is the object of it, she can lose the opportunity to conquer him, and it’ll be a very poor consolation to think that the world is equally unaware. We’re all free to start a slight preference, is more than natural, but very few of us have such feelings that they really fall in love without being encouraged. Nine times out of ten, a woman would do better to show more affection than she feels. It’s indisputable that Samos likes Wren, but he may never express more than that if she doesn't help him do so.”

“But she’s helping him!” exclaimed Mare.

"Remember he doesn't know her the way you do, therefore he may not understand it," the other wisely suggested. Although Diana wasn’t married, she always had good advice, whether it was sentimental, about family or neighborhood disputes, and the suggestions she was giving her, if it hadn’t been the romantic Wren she was talking about, would’ve been really good; although closer in age, Mare's two closest friends were very distant in terms of social class, and couldn’t be more different in character, which made the idea of organizing a cognitive meeting that wasn’t a social event of extended dimensions, a folly.

"Well," Diana said, "I wish Wren with all my heart to be successful, but if she married him tomorrow, I believe that she would be as likely to be happy as she would be studying his character for a year. Happiness in marriage is just a matter of luck: as much as two people can know each other thoroughly previously, or have similar characters, that won’t affect their happiness in the slightest, as they will always find something later that will divide them. Maybe it's better to know as little as possible the defects of the person with whom

you’ll spend the rest of your life, or we’re all destined to die alone.”

Both girls burst out laughing, and in the hilarity of the moment, it was far from Mare's mind to be in someone else's thoughts; General Calore had barely admitted at first that she was pretty, and at the ball he had looked at her without any admiration, as it had happened in their subsequent meetings, where he had done nothing but criticize her with his friends. But as soon as he convinced himself  that her face barely had any nice features, he began to find that her intelligent dark eyes were able to render her expression beautiful, and although his critical eye spotted more than one symmetry flaw in her physique’s proportions, he was forced to acknowledge that she had a lean and pleasant body, and those discoveries had only been followed by others, equally embarrassing. Of all this, she was completely unaware; for her he was only a man who made himself unpleasant everywhere and didn't think she was beautiful enough to invite her to dance. Yet he began to want to know her better, and as a first step towards a direct conversation, he paid attention to her exchanges with others. This way of doing caught the girl's attention, and while they were at the Skonos’ house, where a large group had gathered, she spoke to her friend about it.

"Why was General Calore listening to my conversation with Colonel Farley?"

"It's a question that only he can answer," replied the other, "but if he does it again, let him know you're noticing his strange behavior."

Mare took her friend literally, and the girl soon found herself forced to distract her from teasing the poor young man, who seemed incredibly uncomfortable, inviting her to play and sing for the little gathering. Following her performance, it was her sister who took her place on the stool in front of the piano, and though the youngest of the Barrows had neither genius nor inspiration, vanity had provided her with determination and a pedantic and presumptuous way of doing things  that made her get everything she wanted. Mare had been listened to with much more pleasure, although her voice didn't sound so good, but Gisa, at the

end of a long concert, was still pleased to obtain praise and gratitude from everyone, except for the General, who had remained in indignant silence for that way of passing the evening, which completely excluded conversation, and was too busy with his own thoughts to notice having the owner of the house next to him until he started talking.

"What an enchanting pastime for young people!" the man exclaimed, looking at the couples, including his daughter and Mr. Samos, who had started dancing. "On the other hand there is nothing like dancing; I consider it as one of the main refinements of civil society. "

"Of course, sir; and it also has the added bonus of being in vogue among the least civilized societies in the world. Any savage can dance. "

The man just smiled, as if he had realized something that was obscure to Cal, an attitude that annoyed him immensely, but never as much as his attempt to make him dance with Miss Mare, who seemed to have no intention of giving him the honor, despite his good disposition. Her reluctance, however, hadn't hurt her in the eyes of the gentleman, who was thinking of her with a certain satisfaction when he was approached by Miss Samos.

"Can I guess the subject of your reverie?" she asked, turning her gaze to the room and covering her thin, pale lips with a glass.

"I would say not," he replied, sardonically.

"Let me try: you are considering how unbearable it would be to pass many evenings like this, in such company, and I absolutely agree with you. I was never bored that much! The nonsense, plus the noise; the nullity and the importance that all these people give themselves! What would I give to hear your comments on them! "

"Your hypothesis is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was engaged in more pleasant things: I was meditating on the great pleasure that two beautiful eyes can give. "

Miss Samos immediately stared into his face, and asked him to tell her who was the lady who had the merit of inspiring such a reflection. Cal replied intrepidly, mentioning Mare's name, but had to quickly placate his friend's sarcasm and remind her that he hadn't forgotten their agreement, if only not to attract too much attention. Unfortunately, the General couldn’t suspect that he had been overheard by the young Gisa, who, returning home, reported everything to her sister just for the sake of hearing the malice that her mother would’ve expressed towards that man so cold that he hadn't even bothered to compliment her performance.

"From the way I hear you talk, you must be the silliest girl in the neighborhood," her father retorted. "I had suspected it several times, but now I'm convinced. "

Gisa was so disconcerted that she almost began to cry, and it was only her mother's intervention, and the subsequent quarrel between her and her husband, that allowed her to reach her room undisturbed. As for Mare, she listened, since her father's opinions were always well thought out, and certainly more reliable than those of her mother or even her brothers.

"From what you say, those two have been friends all their lives, and even their parents were friends before them, so it wouldn't surprise me if they secretly agreed to get married, if they were left without a partner for too long,” Mr. Barrow decreed, putting an end to the discussion, at least aloud, as his words reverberated for days in his daughter's mind, until the importance of the news was outclassed by a letter that came directly from the Hall of the Sun: Wren had gone on horseback to a lunch with Miss Samos and Lady Haven, but she had been surprised by a thunderstorm and now remained a guest of the Samos until her indisposition, which consisted of a severe sore throat and a pounding headache that had barely allowed her to write that note, had passed. Seriously worried about the matter, and despite her father arguing that she was going to be fine, Mare had decided to visit her, even though, with the ground made extremely muddy by the rain, making the carriage completely unusable,  and given her ineptness as a horseman, she was forced to go by foot.

"How can you be so foolish?"asked her mother, rhetorically, " You won’t be presentable once you get there!”

"I'll definitely be presentable to see Wren, which is all I want," she replied, and Gisa's objections were to no avail since she was even supported by Shade and Tramy, who were willing to visit the Farleys, who lived right off the street. It was just dawn when the trio left the house and took the road to the Hall of the Sun, but as soon as she separated from her younger brothers, Mare continued along the shortcuts she remembered from when she was a child, walking briskly through field after field, climbing over fences and leaping puddles with agile impatience, eventually founding herself in sight of the house with sore ankles,

muddy socks and a face that shone, warmed by the exercise. She was ushered into the breakfast room, where all the residents, except for Wren and Mr. Lucas, were gathered and where her appearance caused a huge surprise; that she had walked three miles so early in the morning, in all that mud, and alone, was almost unbelievable to the two young ladies, and Mare realized they despised her for it, yet they welcomed her with great courtesy, as opposed to General Calore, who spoke very little, and the owner of the house, who didn’t said a word, probably upset by her unannounced arrival, or feeling as if she was questioning whether her friend was being properly cared for. The answers she received regarding that specific issue weren’t particularly encouraging: Miss Skonos had slept badly due to the high fever and she wasn’t feeling strong enough to leave her room.  Mare was pleased to be immediately led to her, and Wren, who had refrained from expressing in her note how much she desired such a visit only for fear of creating alarm and disturbing, was very happy to see her come in, although she couldn’t have much conversation, and once Miss Samos had left them alone, the two merely had breakfast in silence. Once they finished eating, they were joined by their hosts, and Mare began to like them more when she saw how much love and care they showed for Wren. The pharmacist arrived, and after examining the patient he said, unsurprisingly, that she had caught a severe cold, and that there wasn't much to worry about; he advised her to go back to bed, and promised to get her some medicine. The advice was promptly followed, as the fever had risen and the headache had worsened. Mare didn’t leave the room even for a moment and the other ladies weren’t away for long either, but since the gentlemen were out, in fact they had nothing else to do. When the clock struck three times, Mare realized she had to go, and she said it very reluctantly. Miss Samos offered her the carriage but Wren seemed so anxious about parting with her that Miss Samos was forced to turn the carriage offer into an invitation to stay for the time being at the Hall of the Sun. Mare accepted gratefully, and a servant was sent to warn the family and to bring back a supply of clothes.

[spookyboywhump]

More collab with @ihaventwritteninsolong‘s characters Clement and Cathal!! Cathal meets a new friend :D

TW: Uhhhh, knives, cutting, general dehumanization and derogatory stuff

***

Vanessa was… different, than Cain or Clement. She wasn’t cold and angry, when she saw him she had gasped, taking his face in her hands and exclaiming that he was such a pretty boy. She was gentle, almost sweet even, almost normal. Apparently she was Cain’s friend, and Cathal didn’t entirely understand how, how someone so gentle could be friends with Cain of all people.

 As the visit progressed though, he couldn’t help but notice how uneasy Zander and Wren seemed around her. She kept Zander close to her, while Cain kept Wren at his side, as usual. She ran one hand through his dark hair, and he swore he saw her tug sharply when Zander tried to pull away. He was visibly tense, but not angry. There was no scowl on his face like normal, he kept his eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at any of them, even Cathal.

 He briefly wondered if it was better that way. 

 “Can I see him?” He didn’t like the sound of that, instinctively moving closer to Clement. The last person who asked to see him was Cain and well… that night hadn’t ended well for him. 

 “Of course.” Clement told her, as if he knew it was the last thing Cathal wanted. Knowing him, that’s exactly why he did it. 

 “He’s just so cute!” She said, moving from her seat to kneel down in front of him. Her hands were on his face again, but not roughly like Cain or Clement, all soft and careful. She very gently tilted his head side to side, and he resisted the urge to pull away. “And so well behaved too, is he always this way?” She asked, looking up to Clement. 

 “Only when he’s scared.” Clement said, sounding almost disdainful, giving Cathal a look that made his stomach turn, anxiously glancing away from him and back to Vanessa. “Once he gets comfortable he’ll forget everything I’ve taught him.”

 “The kid has a bad case of being fucking stupid.” Cain said bluntly, as if elaborating on what Clement had said. 

 “Hmm? Are you scared of me dear?” She asked, holding his face still. Of course he was scared of her, scared because he was confused. It almost made his head hurt to think too much about it, about this kind person fawning over him who seemed to have both Zander and Wren visibly nervous. He didn’t know what to do so instead he tried to please her, shaking his head as best he could. 

 “N-no ma’am…” He flinched when Clement hit him hard against the back of his head, only avoiding falling forward by Vanessa holding him. 

 “Don’t lie to her, mutt. She asked you a question, you’re going to tell her the truth.” He said sternly.

 “It’s okay.” Vanessa told him, keeping her voice soft and gentle. “Just tell me the truth, please?” She smiled, almost encouraging him. He was still hesitant to answer, but she wasn’t angry with him, which seemed good at least.

 “I… y-yes, I-I am…” He whimpered, expecting a negative reaction from her, but she only laughed.

  “That’s adorable!” She removed her hands from his face, taking one of his hands and looking up at Clement. “Could I see him alone for just a moment? It won’t take long.” She said. His head snapped up to look at him as well, almost pleading with his eyes, don’t let her take me. She wasn’t cruel like them, but she was still a stranger, he was still confused, he would be safe with Clement. 

 “Hm… I don’t think the puppy would like that very much…” Clement said, meeting his eyes, and for just a moment, Cathal had hope, hope that he could escape something. It all came crashing down once again when Clement continued, “Go ahead, take your time with him.” 

 His stomach dropped as she pulled him to his feet, easily leading him past them, past Zander who watched with a terrified look in his eyes. He started to move, started to say something, but a very stern “Down, boy” from Cain stopped him. This wasn’t the usual angry defiance from him, it was fear, concern, and that was enough to scare him even more.

 He was led out of the room, down one of the halls of Cain’s house. He didn’t know where they were going, and he was hesitant to ask her, simply following along because what else could he have done? At some point she stopped, turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He jumped at first but didn’t jerk away, even as she pushed him against the wall, almost trapping him from how close she was. Something was different, something was wrong, the way she looked at him was wrong. He couldn’t even describe it, it was the same girl who had been holding his face and playing with his hair, yet her mood had somehow changed in a second, a smile still on her face, more amused than anything now.

 “Look at me, Cathal.” She said sternly, that kind and sweet tone she’d used before completely gone. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, cold blue eyes looking him over. What happened, what had he done, he wondered, staring at her with big, scared eyes. “Your owner says you’ve been getting close with Zander, hm?”

 Of course Clement had mentioned it to her, mentioned how Zander couldn’t keep his hands off him, mentioned how he kept having to teach Cathal the same lesson over, and over, and over again it seemed. I’m yours, I’m owned, I’m happy here and I don’t ever want to leave, the words still echoed in his head. Clement had gestured to Zander and called him a beast, a stupid, out of control beast who seemed to think less with his brain and more with his fists, both Clement and Cathal knowing first hand how violent he could be. He had told her that they, specifically Cathal, had to learn the hard way exactly who he belonged to, and that they needed to keep their hands to themselves. 

 “I- we- no, no w-we hav-haven’t-” He started, but she cut him off.

 “Do you like knives, puppy?” She asked, almost innocently. He blinked, confused by the question, but hesitantly answered anyway. 

 “N-no, no m-ma’am, I-I don’t….” He said softly, voice cracking with fear as he watched her reach into the purse slung over her shoulder. She seemed to find what she was looking for, smiling as she pulled out the object, a red handled butterfly knife that she flipped open far too close to his face for comfort, causing him to flinch back, whimpering softly.

 “Really? That’s sad, because I do. I love them actually.” She told him. “I have a collection, this one is special though.” She held it up so he could see it better, see the letters engraved on the blade. Zander. “Normally I only use this one on him, but since you two seem so close, I don’t think he’ll mind.” His heart was hammering in his chest as he caught on to what she was saying, that she intended to use it on him. 

 “W-wait, please, I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, p-please d-don’t, I, I-I’ll be good, I s-swear...” He insisted, but she didn’t seem to care.

 “Yes, after this I’m sure you will be. Hold your hands out, palms up.” She ordered. At first he shook his head, hands held close to his chest, but she gave him a look, leaning in dangerously close to him. “This shouldn’t be hard, I already know you’re a stupid slut who can’t keep his hands to himself. Hold them out or I’ll have to tell your owner how disobedient you are.”

 He whimpered at that, finally, slowly, holding his hands out like she wanted. She backed off just slightly, as if she already knew for sure he wouldn’t run. It wasn’t as if she was wrong. She took his left hand in her own, looking it over for a moment before almost gently pressing the knife against his palm, not even breaking skin yet. Not even breaking skin, yet tears had already blurred his vision, knowing what was to come. 

 “You see, Cathal, Zander is mine. I don’t care what Cain says, he’s mine, and I don’t like people touching what belongs to me, not unless I say so.” She explained, digging the tip of the knife into his hand, causing him to gasp in pain. It took all of his control to not jerk away, to not make it even worse. She was going slow, dragging the knife in a diagonal line across his palm. “And since you think that it’s okay to touch him, I have to fix that.”

 “N-No I don’t- don’t think it’s o-okay, I w-won’t- I kn-know better, I-I s-swear!” He whined, Clement had taught him well enough by now, who he belonged to, who was allowed to touch him, and it certainly didn’t involve Zander. 

 “You will know better once I’m done. Now stop being a fucking baby, this is nowhere near the worst this knife can do.” She told him. “Certainly nowhere near the worst it’s done on Zander. You know that scar on his face, puppy?” She asked, and he weakly nodded, only to appease her, keep her from hurting him worse. “This knife gave him that scar, marking my territory, you know?” She glanced up at him, that smile suddenly cold and cruel. “You’ll want to remember that scar, these scars when you think about fucking touching him again.”

 She dragged the knife slowly, another line crossing over the first one, a large X carved into his hand. He could barely see it through his tears, biting down on his lip to keep from sobbing out loud. She looked his hand over, seemed to be satisfied, before pushing it away and grabbing his other hand, her grip tight. 

 “I don’t even know why he would want you. What could he possibly see in some stupid, weak mutt.” The next cut wasn’t slow and methodical, it was quick, angry, slashing across his palm and catching his fingers. He cried out, almost jerking back, only to hit the wall, her grip on his hand still tight. “Fucking stay still, even you should be able to follow such a simple order.” She snapped at him. 

 “I-I’m sorry- I’m suh-sorry-” He stammered, trying his best to hold still as she carved in the next line, the last line, at least he hoped it was the last anyway. 

 “Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “God, do you have anything going on up there, or do you only know how to beg and apologize?” She said, dragging the knife through his hand in one swift motion. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all he could do was cry, a broken sound as tears ran down his face and blood dripped from his hands. As if to add insult to injury she grabbed the hem of his shirt, using it to wipe the blood off the blade. She folded the knife back up once she was satisfied with it, returning it to her purse before grabbing his hands, not seeming to even care about the blood. 

 “That is Zander’s knife, puppy. Like I said, I have a collection, and you don’t want me to have to choose a Cathal knife, understand?” She said sternly. He nodded quickly.

 “Y-yes m-ma’am…” 

 “As long as you keep your fucking hands to yourself,” She said, digging her nails into the fresh wounds and eliciting another cry from him, “We won’t have a problem. Try to use whatever brain you have to think about these scars next time you want to be a fucking slut.” She told him. Just like Clement had called him that day, a stupid, idiot slut, for daring to be held by another person, by someone who wasn’t Clement, and he knew that she was right, knew that Clement would agree which meant she must have been right.

 She seemed happy with his tears and his misery, holding only one hand to drag him back to the others. He kept his eyes on the floor, not ready to face them, not ready to face Clement. She dragged him back to him though, let go of his hand and he obediently kneeled.

 “Did he give you some trouble?” Clement asked, a hand coming to rest on the back of his neck, causing him to freeze up immediately. 

 “Oh, only a little bit.” She said, voice innocent as ever. The switch was unnerving, only serving to confuse him further. He whimpered, reaching up to rub his eyes with the back of his hand. 

 “Well? Did you misbehave, puppy?” He asked, and Cathal quickly shook his head, only for him to dig his nails into the back of his neck. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” He said sternly. “Did you misbehave?” He asked again. He could hardly think of what he had done, but he must’ve, he must’ve been so bad that she felt the need to punish him, must’ve made such a mistake even looking at Zander that she had to mark him, make sure he knew he’d been bad.

 “I-I… y-yes sir…” He murmured, only briefly glancing up. Vanessa seemed pleased with this, stepping away from them and back to Zander, wiping the blood from her hand on his shoulder as she sat down, finally getting him to jerk away. 

 “You’ll want to start telling the truth the first time, mutt.” He said, voice low and dangerous. Cathal felt sick to his stomach, which only got worse when Cain whistled, getting his attention, even Clement looking up.

 “I’d love to watch you punish your puppy, but I’m eager to know what will come from our uh- discussion.” He said, looking almost enthusiastic. Vanessa gave him a look, clearly unsure of what he meant since they’d been gone for it, but judging from the looks Wren and Zander were giving him, almost silently pleading, he already knew it wasn’t good. 

 “Right, of course.” Clement said, hand going from his neck to tangle in his hair, jerking his head up so he was forced to look at him. “Cain so kindly invited us to see one of his dogs fight.” He explained, each word only serving to make Cathal more nervous. “We’ll deal with your punishment later, for now,” He grinned, “How about you make a choice for us. Which one do you want to see fight, darling? Wren, or that fucking beast?” He asked, eagerly awaiting Cathal’s reply.

 He almost wasn’t sure he even could reply through his stifled sobs, hands still stinging from the pain, all the eyes in the room focused on him. It almost made him dizzy, and for just a moment, he wished he would pass out, just to avoid making a choice, just to escape this absolute nightmare.

[thefeared]

𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒    that  will  eventually  become  a  bio  because  i  have  far  too  many  thoughts  about  this  evil  little  bitch  ...

⋆      in  both  the  novel  and  the  film  ,   the  witch  remains  unnamed  .   this  is  largely  due  to  the  heightened  power  of  true  names  in  magic  use  .   while  no  one  knows  her  name  at  all   (  though  she  has  a  few  aliases  )   the  witch  did  have  one  .   it  was  wren  penclosa  .   but  nearly  all  references  to  her  have  been  wholesale  erased  .   if  one  were  to  look  now  they  would  find  only  vague  mentions  of  her  name  being  belinda  druin  .

⋆      she  also  had  a  childhood  ,   one  that  was  only  a  step  to  the  left  from  happy  .   it  can  be  very  happy  when  she  chooses  not  to  remember  all  of  it  .   little  wren  was  born  a  princess  so  long  ago  that  she  can  scarce  recall  the  year  ,   and  certainly  ages  before  ingary  came  into  being  .   but  she  had  the  grave  misfortune  of  being  born  quite  plain  .   from  a  young  age  ,   glamours  used  to  hide  her  natural  face  became  almost  second  nature  for  the  little  girl  to  apply  .   they  were  normal  ,   to  the  point  where  the  sight  of  her  true  face  caused  much  distress  and  confusion  .  

⋆      with  this  newfound  beauty  ,   wren  discovered  that  everything  she  could  ever  want  would  come  much  easier  .   she  developed  a  healthy  appetite  for  sports  of  all  kind  ,   challenging  herself  to  be  better  and  better  than  her  competition  in  every  way  .   whether  it  was  love  or  magic  or  beauty  ,   she  needed  to  be  the  very  best  .   winning  ,   much  like  glamours  that  helped  ensure  them  became  the  foundation  of  her  personality  ,   and  wren  developed  a  vicious  distaste  for  being  upstaged  .

⋆      she  met  her  fire  demon  in  the  most  unlikely  place  .   while  leaving  her  city’s  goldsmith  late  one  night  she  caught  sight  of  a  star  falling  lazily  from  the  inky  sky  overhead  .   reaching  out  her  hand  ,   wren  snatched  the  little  ball  of  light  in  her  palm  as  if  she  had  willed  it  there  by  magic  .   its  name  was  angorian  ,   and  it  was  dying  .   but  if  she  helped  it  to  live  ,   it  would  give  her  more  .   she  asked  what  more  it  could  give  ,   and  the  demon  was  bound  already  to  the  young  girl  of  sixteen  years  when  it  answered   𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  .

⋆      angorian  took  her  heart  ,   though  never  very  far  .   the  place  she  kept  it  would  change  ,   but  its  very  first  home  was  in  the  centre  of  her  purchase  from  the  goldsmith’s  -   in  the  centre  of  an  ornate  tiara  .   and  there  it  lived  for  many  years  ,   burning  brighter  and  lovelier  than  any  jewel  that  could  be  found  on  land  .

⋆      wren’s  fire  demon  is  parasitic  in  nature  ,   having  devoured  large  swathes  of  her  personality  by  the  time  she  was  in  her  early  twenties  .   hobbies  she  enjoyed  ,   songs  she  liked  to  dance  to  were  lost  to  the  voracious  appetite  of  the  once - beautiful  star  .   wren  began  to  study  magic  in  earnest  ,   when  it  had  only  been  a  flight  of  fancy  before  in  order  to  learn  how  to  best  feed  her  new  friend  .

⋆      it  was  never  enough  .   in  the  end  ,   she  destroyed  her  very  kingdom  for  the  chance  at  more  magic  .   more  power  .   with  it  in  flames  ,   she  could  begin  again  as  a  new  woman  .   a  new  witch  with  no  past  would  make  it  difficult  to  hex  her  ,   she  only  needed  more  time  to  cultivate  her  talents  .

⋆      the  demon  has  given  her  time  ,   nearly  three  hundred  short  years  of  it  .   wren  can  appear  however  she  chooses  to  ,   and  has  not  seen  her  true  face  in  so  long  that  the  sight  of  it  terrifies  her  to  her  core  .   she  feels  thin  either  way  ,   but  in  the  sense  that  her  skin  is  so  very  stretched  over  old  muscle  and  bone  .

⋆      as  a  result  of  her  half - baked  basis  for  the  study  of  magic  ,   wren  has  absolutely  no  idea  what  she  is  doing  with  most  of  her  curses  .   they  are  nearly  impossible  to  break  without  loopholes  that  even  she  is  barely  aware  of  most  of  the  time  .   every  aspect  of  her  magic  must  be  related  to  curse - casting  in  some  way  ,   and  she  rarely  thinks  before  firing  off  a  spell  .   in  her  mind  ,   there  is  no  other  way  of  using  magic  and  the  idea  that  their  might  be  would  deeply  confuse  her  .

[nightwingshero]

WIP Wednesday (YASSS!)

I was tagged by the always amazing @shallow-gravy and @goodboiboomer-fc5 thank you, lovelies!!

Tagging: @returnofthepd3 @v3ryvelvet @xbaebsae @joeyhxdson @dieguzguz @ja-crispea @faithchel @tomexraider @red-nightskies @fromathelastoveritaserum @wewillryesagain @deputycolt @risenlucifer @shelliechen @shellibisshe @ariestals 

So, I guess I noticed that I’m starting to jump around to scenes in future chapters for both Hold Me Down and Stay on the Path. But I got super inspired to write a scene with Wren and Holly in HMD. I’m just gonna...set this down here. Warning, this is a very rough draft. It’s definitely a work in progress. Also, there are some lewd comments and some mention of drug abuse, so be warned.

“You.”

I gasped dramatically, mocking her as I turned my head for effect. “Me.”

“This is all your fault!” she snapped, her hands curling into fists at her sides. I pushed off the wall, walking towards her as I took her in, white suit and all.

“My fault? What’s this in regard to, exactly?”

“You damn well know!” I stopped as she took a step closer to me, pointing in my face. “You think I don’t see you for what you are, but I do! I know what you’re up to!”

“And what is that exactly?” I asked softly, my eyes piercing hers.

“You’re a home-wrecking whore, and I know for a fact that you’re just marrying him for his money.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. It escaped and her face twisted. “Is that all?”

Holly stuttered, her face going red in outrage. “You bitch, you’re not good enough! You’re from the street, you’re not one of us—”

“A greedy elitist?”

“No. Someone that people actually care about. Someone with worth.”

At this point, I’m counting to ten in my head. But I just shake my head with a smirk. “Bold of you to assume my intentions. I highly recommend you tread lightly, sweetie.”

“Oh, I know that’s why you’re in it. Money is everything.” A venomous smirk slithers across her face. “It takes one to know one, baby girl, and I see right through you.” I furrowed my brow as she stepped closer, getting in my face with a sneer. “You don’t deserve it, any of this. This is supposed to be mine. The clothes, the cars, all of it.”

“You’re telling me that you’re pissed off because you can’t marry him for his money now?” I asked, exasperated. “You’re either really fucking stupid or very bold to be telling me this. So, I’m going to give you a chance to walk out, because I really think you should go.”

“I’m pissed off because I’ve been at this for years!” She snapped. “I’ve gone on benders, flown with him on vacations, fucked his brains out, and put all this damn time into this! And I’m not going to let you ruin it for me!”

I twitch. It’s barely noticeable to her, but I feel it. And there’s a heat in my chest that’s spreading at her words, consuming everything in its path and it’s growing. I can’t remember how to count and that’s dangerous, I can’t focus on anything else to distract me. I send a silent prayer that she takes the hint and leaves, but even I couldn’t be that lucky.

“He would be lucky to have me. I have the best coke and I give the best—”

“I don’t really care what you can do with your mouth, unless it’s you closing it.” I snap. “And if you really think that that’s what he deserves, then you really have a warped view on reality. Get out.”

“Maybe you do deserve each other.” She sneered. “He isn’t worth anything either, you know? All he’s good for is good drugs, money, and a good time at night—”

The look Rowan would give me if I had told her I tried would’ve been skeptical, and I can imagine Jane would laugh at the mere thought of me trying. But would have been honest. I would have been telling the truth. I didn’t like the way my emotions were not driving my every action, because my forearm is pressed firmly against her throat as she claws at me and gasps for air. Holly’s eyes are wide, and I know she’s fucking terrified.

Good.

“Listen here, you selfish brat. I’m so fucking done being nice to you. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a guest of his, I kept my mouth shut out of respect for John and his home. And I may have promised Joseph to behave, but I’m drawing the fucking line.” I leaned in, my breath brushing over her face and I can feel her tremble. “You’re pathetic, abusive, and fucking toxic. Daddy might be all buddy-buddy with Johnny and Joe, but I promise you, darling, nothing on this earth will ever protect you from me if you ever so much as think about coming here again, do you hear me? You’re staying the fuck away from him, because he deserves better than you, and I will not let you drag him down the self-destructive path you’re on. He has a family that loves him, you bitch. You don’t have a place in his life.”

Holly just chokes and is in mid-nod when her eyes widen further, caught onto something above us. I turn, looking over my shoulder, and I feel the sensation of being doused in ice water because John is casually leaning on his hands against the railing above us. I swallow as I try to gauge his reaction, but he’s a blank canvas for me. I can’t get a read. I turn my head, cursing under my breath, knowing that I was in trouble. Reluctantly, I remove my arm, and Holly wheezes, her hands going to her throat.

“Get the fuck out.” I sneer.

[lucadansembourg]

                                                                                           HSHQTASK023. 

                                                   luca & henri. 

(  LISTEN ALONG  )

                                                                                                        feat. @henridorleans

“please hurry leave me, i can't breathe, please don't say you love me.”  - track 001. first love/late spring by mitski. 

the actual  first time they meet is irrelevant, an event neither remembers. surely, over the years they’ve had conversations, somewhere, sometime. but none of them truly matter, not when faced with what they become. there’s nothing of note between them, at least nothing before the cold november night in luxembourg that they actually meet for the first time. 

the setting is a slightly seedy bar in a back alley in the heart of luxembourg, where luca d’ansembourg is chasing the bottom of a bottle yet again. he’s become something of a regular, a ruling monarch always sitting in the same booth in the back. none of the other regulars dare to bother him, they haven’t since nathalie died and luca became a shell of himself. but the color has started to return to his cheeks, word on the street is he’s begun to heal. 

maybe that’s why he seems approachable. 

henri d’orleans is traveling. he’s been north of paris, into belgium and finally he’s wound up with a few nights in luxembourg city. what draws him to the bar is unknown even to him, perhaps fate leads him through the doors. it’s nice enough, isn’t it? it takes almost an hour for him to notice the man in the booth in the back, pouring out his sorrows into a glass of whiskey yet again. 

they meet and they don’t use any bullshit titles or last names that could give them away. 

late that night, when they return to the little apartment luca keeps “just in case” they’re just people. and if luca is a little bit broken and henri is still searching for something he can’t quite grasp, they don’t mention it. 

“ oh, but i was just a placeholder a lesson to be learned oh, i was just a placeholder a place you will return.” - track 002. placeholder by hand habits.

luca wakes the next morning to his phone ringing over and over again. it’s wilhelmina, frantic with worry after luca had disappeared into the night. she’s worried, because of course she is. they’re d’ansembourgs, all they seem to do is worry these days. he tries to stay quiet, to not wake henri. 

“i’ll be back at the palace in a few hours, don’t worry, wilhelmina.” 

maybe it’s the mention of the palace, maybe it’s the way luca says wilhelmina like an exasperated older brother.

but henri has heard the entire conversation and is beginning to fit the puzzle pieces together. 

the way luca never asked for another drink, he was simply handed one by the bartender. the stares he’d gotten from the other regulars for daring to speak to the king. the expensive apartment that no one seemed to live in. it all added up to an image of the king of luxembourg henri hadn’t expected. 

he makes his excuses and goes, practically sprinting out the door with a new perspective on french relations with luxembourg. he leaves the tiny country that afternoon, the bruises still fresh on his skin, a reminder that the night before had really happened. 

luca takes a moment to put himself back together and then meets his twins and siblings for lunch, and tries to push the night out of his mind. he doesn’t frequent the bar like he used to, and when he does he even manages to give them a smile, a real one this time. maybe a night out was just what he needed. maybe he just needed to be normal for a moment. 

they swear they don’t think about it, but they do. 

“we try and connect the dots and the facts how do we have to be here? 'cause these hotels, i just can't relax the more i bend, the worse that i snap i feel like a goddamn maniac .” - track 003. ruins by jade bird.

it’s new year’s eve, and there’s far too much going on. it seems the whole world is here, every royal from every country in one ballroom in paris. for henri d’orleans, this is his element. he’s charming and easy to speak to, always able to talk his way into and out of conversations on a whim. 

on the other hand, luca d’ansembourg is simply terrible at events like these. when it’s small groups, he can almost manage to seem normal, but with the movement of the crowd and the volume of the room, he’s barely said twenty words to those around him. he prefers to be a wallflower, usually, but his sisters have been pestering him about making new friends. it’s not going well. 

luca spots him across the room and trails off mid-sentence. no one around him notices. 

he looks almost the same, if not a just a little bit more dressed up. 

that’s henri, from the bar. that’s henri, the prince of france. luca can feel the panic set in as their eyes meet across the ballroom, and he only holds henri’s gaze for a second before dashing towards an alcove he’d noticed earlier. 

he doesn’t expect henri to make his excuses and follow him. 

he’s plotting his escape and how easy it will be to become a recluse and never leave the grand palace again when henri appears in his line of vision. and even if they’re alone in the alcove, they might as well be alone at the world. 

when they’re together, it’s like everything else seems to fall away. the responsibilities, the titles, the riches, none of it matters. 

they’re counting down to the year 2019 in the ballroom, but the pair don’t seem to notice, too caught up in each other once again. it seems like the world stops as they gravitate towards each other. 

the kiss may not happen exactly at midnight, but there’s no one around to police it. 

“and it’s no one’s fault but yours at the foot of the house of cards. you thought you’d never get obsessed,  you thought the wolves would be impressed. and you’re a sinking stone, but you know what it’s like.” - track 004. the jeweler’s hands by arctic monkeys.

henri leaves before the sun comes up, almost like a force of habit. 

it’s easier that way, he always tells himself. it’s better if they just... don’t talk about it. especially because he’s not going to stick around, even if luca asked him to. it’s not personal, just... henri doesn’t need anything more, he never has. the life of royalty made things like falling in love out of question. 

when luca wakes on the first morning of the year, he’s alone. 

and he’s only able to feel bad about himself for a minute, before he decides that he’s kind of grateful that henri is gone. he wouldn’t know what to say, other than the obvious. and then he’s definitely glad he’s gone, when wilhelmina barges into his hotel room without warning. he’s dodged a bullet that morning, but he can’t help but feel like this is the start of something. 

and it is. 

“honey you are nothing to me but alcohol and dopamine. i’m dying on the sofa and i barely know the time like an old man, say i reckon, i love you for a millisecond, but i don’t wear a watch or rolex.” - track 005. presumably dead arm by sidney gish.

they meet again in mid-february at a coronation, and it’s the same song and dance. 

even if argentina is an entirely different type of place than paris, it’s still just a bit too lively for luca’s preferences. the events hosted in buenos aires are filled with dancing and parties that are just too much, but luca still attends, even if he hangs out in the corner for the entire night, watching the crowd move around him. it’s not out of some sense of duty he’s terrible at having, but because his siblings are yet again badgering him into “making new friends” and “coming out of his shell” like he’s some sort of shy schoolgirl. 

henri is having a marginally better time, if only because he’s got the ability to thrive in a social setting. light on his feet and giving with words he doesn’t actually mean make him a favorite for the people who want to dance, and he catches luca’s eye sometimes across the room and his chest will twist in a weird way that he can’t quite place. when he runs out of partners and people to talk to, he’ll check that same corner and find it empty, luca leaving the parties just before henri can go looking for him. 

on the last night of their trip, luca shows up on henri’s doorstep with a half smile and they fall into bed together yet again, this time with the ease of practiced lovers. and maybe it’s just a little bit too close to something he can’t take back, but when henri wakes the next morning luca is gone, his side of the bed cold. 

“but the light in the hallway and the silence in my room... said i don’t think i’ll get used to losing you.” - track 006. losing you by flyte.

luca goes back to luxembourg to an empty palace and he’s glad that his entire family is gone, his siblings taking his girls on a trip for that weekend. he lets himself wallow in pity for a day, asking all the questions that must be common for widowers who are trying to figure everything out alone. 

he sleeps in his twins’ empty room, unable to stand his own, the room still standing untouched. it’s a monument to his late wife, he can’t bring himself to even more things off her bedside table yet. it’s too fresh, even if it’s been an entire year. for a place that once was a sanctuary built by a woman who luca would have burned down the world for, it’s become something of a tomb. 

and then on sunday, he wakes and he finds that things are lighter, that he’s able to handle the grief. he can breathe in. he spends the afternoon in wilhelmina’s garden, away from the bustle of his siblings’ return. wren finds him there, hours later. 

“do you think she’d want me to... move on?” he asks, as if his youngest sibling will have any idea. he gets a shrug in reply, but wren still sits with him until it gets dark. and somehow that’s the push luca needed, that he can let go a little bit. that he can live without the shadow of his late wife watching over his every move. 

he thinks nathalie would be proud that he picked himself back up and did what he was meant to do. he knows that his sisters are. when his first valentine’s weekend alone is over, luca feels lighter than he has since the diagnosis, and it shows in his work, in the way he carries himself. 

he doesn’t lock himself away in the palace, instead he returns to engagement parties and balls held in honor of the dumbest things, and he does it with a bit more confidence, a little bit of a spring in his step. 

“and that’s the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings and longing stares. they show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie, a million little times.” - track 007. illicit affairs by taylor swift.

the first event back, they avoid each other for the first half of the weekend. but then henri can’t keep his eyes away, as luca carries a conversation instead of fading into the background. something’s different, something that henri can’t put his finger on but once he notices it’s terribly distracting. he can’t tear his eyes away. and when luca catches his stare across the room, and blushes just a little bit, it’s over. they’re right back to the start. 

in the spring of 2019, it becomes a habit. it seems like every royal event, they both end up as their country’s representative. whether it’s coincidence, fate or some sort of subconscious desire to see the other, there’s no way to tell, but they’re meeting eyes across ballrooms in japan and having conversations over cigars in botswana. 

in public, they simply read as two old friends. 

in private, they’re something more altogether.

they meet in hotel rooms and rented apartments, in europe and asia and one memorable time in new york city. 

after argentina, it’s always henri following luca to where he’s staying, and leaving before the morning comes. each time, though, luca starts to find that he wants more. he wants him to stay, but henri never does. 

and that should be enough of a sign, that this isn’t the same sort of thing for henri that it is for luca. 

but luca’s never been too good at reading the signs. 

“one last kiss i love you like an alcoholic. one last kiss, i love you like a stauette. one last kiss, i need you like a need a gaping head wound.” - track 008. i love you like an alcoholic by the taxpayers.

it’s may and they’ve been dancing around each other like this for months. they make their excuses and leave before the party’s end more often than not, check over their shoulders thousands of times to make sure no one will catch a glimpse of them. 

they keep it quiet because it’s the only option. luca isn’t looking for a scandal in a country still reeling from the death of it’s beloved queen, and henri isn’t looking to seem attached at all. 

they both say they’re getting what they want out of their meetings, but they’re not, really. they’re both too busy lying to themselves to realize that there’s a way that they can just reach out and have what they want. 

it all culminates in a few too many words said in the same apartment where it began, when luca’s drunken words become just a little bit too real. henri leaves and it feels different this time, like a nail in the coffin. 

luca wakes alone, but he’d been expecting it. 

he isn’t expecting his sisters to send guards to the apartment, to drag him back to the palace. 

he doesn’t expect the invasion. 

“hard feelings these are what they call hard feelings of love when the sweet words and fevers all leave us right here in the cold, oh oh.” - track 009. hard feelings/loveless by lorde.

it’s like a knife in his back, and he can’t even scream at him. henri disappears from his life into the night, just as easily as he’d entered it. luca rages when he’s alone, only allows himself to feel the loss of a lover, or even just a friend, when no one can see. he projects a strength he doesn’t have anymore, a mask that reminds him just a little bit too much of his father. he’s what his people need, for once. 

henri didn’t know, but who would believe him? he’s the one who left under the cover of the night while his own brother’s soldiers marched into the place he was running from. if he acts a little bit out of line when discussing it, it can be dismissed as being upset he’s been left out of the loop. if he hides away in his rooms for a few days, no one seems to read into it. 

when luca follows wilhelmina into the protection program, he only does so after figuring out that henri isn’t there. he’s not interested in seeing him ever again, to be honest. it’s easier that way, when he doesn’t have to worry about running into him randomly. he can prepare himself. 

the first event they both attend, luca manages to not look towards henri the entire night. it’s a win, a victory that he cannot believe he managed. he radiates calm only after hours of convincing himself everything will be alright, and only stays as long as he has to, trying to charm people who can help them out of their situation. 

henri can’t believe he misses catching luca’s gaze across a ballroom, but that little ache in his chest is something he refuses to feel again. he lets it go, tries his hardest to push everything out of his mind. it’s easier that way, he reminds himself. he couldn’t get attached, and even though he’s a little sad that the fun is over, it’s not the end of the world. 

both of them are liars, but they’ve managed to believe it.

when henri arrives in phuket, it’s to no fanfare. when a shouting match that he doesn’t want ensues, they both feel like they’re playing the part: henri as the villain and luca as the jilted lover. but yet again, the magnetism that pulls them together continues on. there’s no way they can avoid this. 

neither of them is going to make this easy. 

“cause if i had loved you the way you loved me before, or if you hadn't left me with this doubt creeping up my spine, maybe we could help this ” - track 011. getting on in spite of you by remember sports. 

[wren-bishop]

The Talk - Wren and Chanel

Wren and Chanel finally talk about what happened at the party, and things don’t go as planned.

Wren: Wren walked over two doors down to Chanel's house and rang the door bell. He wasn't exactly excited about this conversation, he knew it was going to be a tough one. She had fought his girlfriend at a party and apparently it had been about him. Even though he had tried to eat, he couldn't keep anything down he was so nervous about this. He didn't want to lose her as a friend, and luckily Valerie hadn't said explicitly that they couldn't still be friends, but he understood that was what should happen considering everything. Chanel was such a big part of his life, she comes over for dinner once a week. They watch movies and hangout with Nana, and Nana always tells him to have her over because her home life isn't great. Wren's spent a lot of time and energy making sure Chanel is doing alright, and a lot of time in the locker room defending her or telling people to shut up, but this was something different if she was acting out like this towards the girl he really liked.

Chanel: Chanel was laying down on the couch, looking for some kind of show to watch on tv. She still hadn't gotten adjusted to this new change with her family, in fact, her situation has only made her feel worse. Her and her father fight more than ever when she visits him over the weekends, and she barely sees her mom anymore. Everything going on has made her feel lonelier than ever, and she would usually distract herself with a good party, but the last one she went to didn't turn out the way she wanted it to. She let out a sigh and turned her attention to the door once the doorbell rang. She let out a dramatic groan and got off the couch to walk towards the door. Chanel wasn't expecting anyone so she assumed it would be her mother and she wasn't in the mood for another fight. Her expression softened once she looked through the glass window to see who it was. Chanel had been avoiding him the past couple days since the party. She knew she was in wrong when it came to the fight with Valerie but was way too stubborn to go to Wren herself and admit that. Once she opened the door she looked up at Wren with a small smile, "Hey, what's up?" she asked, trying to act casual.

Wren: Wren fell back into routine, "Nothing muc-" started Wren his brain working a little slower because of the lack of food in his system, "Wait no, we need to talk" he said coming into the house and turning back around to face her, "Tell me one good reason the party went like that" said Wren getting a little heated, "Like give me one reason, any reason. But it better be good" he said talking sternly to the girl. He never yelled at anyone, and he didn't want to yell today. But he could hear it building in this throat.

Chanel: Chanel raised her brows as he walked into the house. Hearing him speak to her like that was definitely something new and she didn't like it. The only time she's ever seen him upset to the point of yelling was at his last party when he caught people hooking up in his bed, so seeing him almost get to that point with her only pissed her off more. "Better be good? I don't have to explain anything to you." she told him with narrow eyes. "If that's what you're here for, you might as well just leave now."

Wren: "That's absolutely what I'm here for, Chanel, like you need to give me a reason to make this okay? I can't not have this, I need this in my life" he said motioning between the two of them as he raised his voice more. "I just need a good reason to be selfish" he said almost yelling, "Why do you have to be so combative?" the boy added feeling like he was running out of breath. His brain was pounding in his head, he felt so light headed.

Chanel: Chanel stayed silent for a moment after Wren said he needed their friendship in his life. She didn't have many people in her life, mostly because she ruined the relationships she's had with many of the people she cared for. "I don't like her, okay? I've never liked her. I don't need to give a reason." she shook her head, raising her voice. "I wasn't going to act all friendly with her now that she's your girlfriend."

Wren: "Why not?! Why couldn't you do that for me?" said Wren bringing it up to a yell, putting his head in his hands afterwards. He was shaking, his knees felt weak.

Chanel: "I'm not gonna act like I like her for your sake. I thought we were on the same page about her anyways, so I'm pretty surprised you're even dating her." she pointed at Wren, referring back to the conversation they had in his bedroom at his party.

Wren: "How am I supposed to move on from her when she's the only person whose gonna want to be with me ever? She's so much better than I was even expecting-" Wren paused to take a deep breath, the whole room starting to spin and him not saying anything.

Chanel: Chanel furrowed her brows as she was listening to Wren speak. How could he think that way? Did he not understand how much of an amazing person he was? Chanel opened her mouth to speak until she noticed him take a deep breath in. "Are you okay?" she reached out to Wren, looking at him with concern.

Wren: "Yeah I'm fine" said Wren weakly as he stumbled a little and caught himself on the front hall table. "Okay, I maybe need to lay down" he relented.

Chanel: Chanel quickly held onto to Wren as he stumbled. She nodded her head and helped him to the couch to lay down. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Should I get you something?" she asked quickly.

Wren: "No, I don't need anything" said Wren as he laid down on the couch, "I mean, water's fine. I've had a lot of water today already" Wren added. He was nervous she was going to ask him to eat something, they were supposed to be arguing. He just couldn't do it.

Chanel: "Yeah sure, give me a second." she said, running over the the kitchen to get him a glass of water. "Here. If you need anything else, tell me." she sat down next to him and handed him the glass. "Did you have a huge workout? You've been working out a lot lately, like more than usual."

Wren: "Just a few hours this morning, I've really been trying to get in shape for basketball" said Wren weakly taking a chug of water to make himself feel full. He would usually be worried about getting bloated, but he needed to appear normal.

Chanel: "You've always been in shape." Chanel shook her head, confused by his comment. "Okay well did you eat enough beforehand? You could really hurt yourself if you're working out on an empty stomach."

Wren: "I've really let myself go since I've been home" said Wren, wondering why she was pandering to him like this and lying to him to be nice when they were literally fighting moments before. "I only have so many calories I can have in a day, it wasn't worth it to eat before" he relented and was honest, closing his eyes. The bright light from the window hurt his eyes.

Chanel: Chanel wasn't sure what to say to Wren. She wasn't even sure if he was being serious or not. "What are you talking about? You look fine, you've always looked fine, Wren." she said truthfully. "That's not safe to do. What did you eat afterwards?"

Wren: "Chanel you don't have to lie to me, we're fighting" said Wren drinking more water before laying back down, not answering her second question.

Chanel: "Okay we can have that fight later." Chanel rolled her eyes. "Right now you're not feeling good. This is more important." she told him. "Also I'm not lying. Why would I lie to you? You /do/ look good."

Wren: Wren just let out a groan, he hated when people lied to him like this. "There's just so much fat on my fucking body, I just want to crawl out of my skin" said Wren moving his hand down to his abs, for him it felt like his body was just covered in fat.

Chanel: Chanel could practically feel her heart drop as he spoke. She was always aware of how Wren viewed himself back then but Chanel always tried to make him feel better about it. There was never anything wrong about him and she just wanted him to see himself the way she saw him. "Stop, don't say that." she spoke softly. "You look great, you always have." she said, unsure of what to say. Chanel was never good with comforting others, and she didn't want to say the wrong thing to him. "Please believe me."

Wren: "I really thought I was fine leaving California, I told my parents I didn't need a doctor here" said Wren just spilling out all his secrets, his walls were broken down. He didn't know how to put them back up.

Chanel: Chanel's eyes widened at the mention of a doctor, "What? Why would you need a doctor?" she asked, shaking her head. "Wren please, what's going on?"

Wren: "I used to have an eating disorder" said Wren, refusing to acknowledge that he still has one, "at first, I just lost weight naturally from growing really quick. Then when I plateaued I started working out, and when I didn't see results I used to freak out" he explained as if it was a thing of the past.

Chanel: Chanel wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't know he was going through so much during the time they were apart. "I... I had no idea." she told him. Chanel didn't want to question him further and bring back any old memories but she was too worried at this point. "Have you eaten anything today? Please just be honest with me."

Wren: "No, but Nana made a huge dinner yesterday and she kept putting more food on my plate" Wren explained. He knew it was dumb that he didn't want to eat, but his brain just wouldn't let him.

Chanel: Chanel stayed quiet, thinking of what to say next. She wasn't sure what to do to make his situation any better. "Can you please eat something now? You might pass out. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Wren: Wren's motivation for getting help last time was the strain it put on other people to see him like this, he didn't really have a huge problem with it. Yeah, feeling strong and healthy when he ate was good, but it didn't beat the guilt he felt for eating. "Yeah, I really should. I just let the day get away from me" said Wren, "Not to sound like a small child, but do you have an apple, and some cheese and crackers?" Wren replied, he was really picky about food at this point. But he knew he would get enough nutrients from that without really hating himself. He would definitely stop with the cheese and crackers pretty quickly, but it would make him feel better.

Chanel: "Yeah of course." Chanel tried to smile at Wren before running over to the kitchen. She quickly grabbed an apple and got a plate to put some cheese and crackers on. "Here, if want anything else to eat just let me know. Seriously." she handed Wren the plate and apple and sat back down on the couch. "I've been getting better at my cooking so... yeah." she said with a sad smile.

Wren: Wren took a bite of the apple, "Me too, I really like cooking weirdly enough. Nana and I made sushi the other night" he said taking another bite. Wren moved over and put his head down in her lap and looked up at her, "I'm really sorry I came over here and yelled. I really don't like yelling" said Wren quietly.

Chanel: Chanel looked down at Wren as he laid his head on her lap. "Oh yeah? I've tried it recently but mine fell apart." she let out a laugh, not noticing her fingers running through his hair. "Don't be sorry." she told him. "We can just talk about it later, I don't want you getting all worked up again. I'm also not used to you yelling at me. Or like, at all."

Wren: Wren always enjoyed being cared for, he loved the feeling of hands through his hair. It just made him feel special. "Yeah, we can just put it off. Or never talk about it and say we did" said Wren closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

Chanel: Chanel looked at him with a small smile, "I'd like that." she nodded her head. "Did she ask you to talk to me about it?" she questioned. Chanel still wasn't over the fact that he was actually in a relationship with Valerie.

Wren: "No, she was just being kind of nasty about it" said Wren, "Honestly she was way more entertained by the idea of spreading rumors about Kimmy leaving town. That's why there's flowers on her front porch like she died" Wren said with a laugh. "Honestly, I think she'd rather act like you're dead too. But I don't think she understands just how often we hang out" Wren added.

Chanel: Chanel couldn't help but laugh, "That's pretty funny, not gonna lie. Rest in peace sweetie." she raised her shoulders as she spoke. "I try to act like she is too but it's kinda hard when I see her all the time in practice." she rolled her eyes. "She doesn't? Are you hiding me?" she teased with a small smile on her face.

Wren: "I would never hide you, I just choose not to talk about you with her. Kinda ruins the mood" said Wren laughing a little. "Chase and I talk about you all the time when we play video games online with like Griffin and Jonah" Wren added to make sure that she felt seen, "Plus Nana and I talk about you all the time, you're her favorite topic"

Chanel: "I get that, I'm not exactly her favorite topic. Obviously." Chanel shrugged her shoulders. "Chase and I talk about you too, don't worry. He must get sick of that." she chuckled. "I love her so much." she said with a genuine smile. Chanel always appreciated how Nana treated her. She felt so loved. "How does she feel about Valerie?" she asked without thinking. Chanel didn't really mind asking but she wasn't exactly sure why she was curious about it. She just was.

Wren: "She um, hasn't met her yet" said Wren making a weird face, "I don't know what it is, they just somehow never manage to cross paths".

Chanel: Chanel raised her brow at the comment but she held back the smile that wanted to come out, "Weird. I'm sure it'll happen eventually. Have you met her parents?" she asked. "There's no rush with shit like that, just curious."

Wren: "I also haven't met her parents, or her brothers. Is that weird? Do you think she's hiding me?" he asked, getting kind of nervous. "We did have sex finally, so I'm not a virgin anymore" Wren said because he was so relaxed he didn't even think about it.

Chanel: "No, not at all. None of my boyfriends ever had me over to meet their parents." she said, not realizing how sad that sounded until now. Chanel's eyes widened a bit when he mentioned not being a virgin anymore. "You were a virgin? I thought you said you weren't before."

Wren: Wren was a little saddened by what she said, Wren thought that anyone and everyone would want to show her off. Then he realized he fucked up. Damn, he really let it slipped that he had been lying to everyone. "A lot of the time people just assumed I had sex before I moved back" said Wren, "and I was just really self-conscious about it. I got a lot of shit for it back in Cali"

Chanel: "Yeah like me." Chanel told Wren with a laugh. She definitely thought he would have had sex way before moving back to White Lake. He was hot, everyone knew that. "Seriously? Ew only losers virgin shame. It's really not that big of a deal whether you were a virgin or not." she said with a reassuring smile. It wasn't until then that Chanel realized Wren's first time was with Valerie, and for some reason that irritated her. "So, how did it go?"

Wren: "Well, it was awesome. I think I did a great job with the whole foreplay thing ... and then I came like less than four minutes in" said Wren with a laugh. "Is that too much sharing? I don't really know where the line is when talking about it" Wren admitted, he was worried that he had gone too far, but it wasn't like he was talking shit about it. He was just ragging on himself.

Chanel: Even though Chanel was the one to ask, she didn't really want to hear how his night went with Valerie, but she nodded and smiled. She didn't want him to feel embarrassed for sharing that much information. Chanel usually wouldn't care at all anyways, "You're good. I'm super open to talking about this kind of stuff so don't worry about it." she said, trying to smile at him. "As long as you had a good time, that's all that matters. It'll only get better from here."

Wren: "Can we just put on a movie?" Wren asked looking up at her. He didn't even have the energy for talking, and he'd probably get sleepy during the movie anyway. He was already exhausted.

Chanel: "Yeah, what are you in the mood for? We can watch anything, I'll just put it on my mom's card." she told Wren with a smile. "There's always Snow Dogs. I know that always puts you in a good mood, but we can watch something else too."

Wren: "Can we watch when Harry met Sally?" Wren asked turning his head towards the TV, still resting on her lap. He grabbed a decorative pillow and put it against her thigh so his head would be tilted for maximum tv watching.

Chanel: "Sure, I haven't seen that in a while." Chanel smiled and put the movie on.

[talpup]

Erase the Shadow: Chapter 5

Mostly just character and relationship development. Sorry about the lack of Hizashi smut that I promised. I just wasn't in the mood to write soft, sweet sex. I prefer to write rougher more passionate stuff... as those who have read my Chaos fic can attest. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/53254687

5.1

The day after their video chat, Hizashi knocked on Teris’ door early in the morning.  Like the first weekend he had visited her, he had taken a bullet train as soon as his radio show had ended.  Though unlike the first visit, this time he headed directly to her place, stopping only at a bakery that was the way to pick up the order he had placed and paid for on-line; anything to get to his girl a few minutes quicker.

“I am here to take in the sights!”  Hizashi greeted with a grin, as soon as Teris opened the door.

She smiled at the cheesy tourist shirt he wore.  Their shirt, he called it; since he had gotten it that first weekend when he forgot his bags.

“Zashi.” Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

His tongue licked against her lips looking for entry while his arms snaked around her waist pulling her closer so she could feel his growing need.

She broke the kiss, scolding lightly.  “Zashi.”

“I missed you, Babe.”  He muttered, moving to kiss along her neck.

It was difficult for her to resist the urge to tilt her head and allow him better access; but they were outside, anyone could walk by and see.

“Missed me?  Or the sex?”  She asked, trying to push him back; but his hold only tightened.

“You. And the sex with you.”  He said, trying to nuzzle deeper into her neck.

“You’re incorrigible.”

That snapped him out of it.

“It’s been two weeks, Ris Wren!”  He complained, pulling back to look her in the eye.  “Literally fourteen days since I last got to touch you.  Stupid end of year exams and grading.  Not to mention that the last weekend we saw each other it was only for a day.”

“How did the students handle Shouta’s final exam?”  She asked, remembering that the reason Hizashi had only stayed a day that weekend was because his friend needed his help preparing.

Hizashi felt a small tic at her mention of Shouta but managed to turned his frown into a pout.  “Didn’t you miss me too?”

“I did, Sunshine.  In fact,” she wheeled in his suitcase and crooked her finger, beckoning him with a seductive smile, “why don’t you come inside and let me show you how much I missed you.”

By the time they had left her bed it was mid-morning.  They nibbled on the pastries he had brought and showered together, intent on starting the day.  But the showering with Hizashi had, thus far, always led to sex; and they had returned to bed.

By the time they had gotten up for the second time, it was passed noon and they were starving.  Teris had offered to make them something, but Hizashi said he wanted to recreate their first weekend together.

“Could’ve told me that at the start.  I would've made you wait for it.” Teris played, gathering her keys and looking Hizashi over in a way that made him want to take her straight back to bed.

He closed the door behind them, letting her lock the deadbolt.  “You’re such a tease, Ris.  I love it.”

They had eaten lunch and gone by a cat cafe.  Visiting a few of the hole in the wall music stores.  Though his favorite was happening upon a small music festival during their walk in the park.

Teris had thought that they would be dining at the same American food restaurant they had that first weekend; but Hizashi shook his head and said he had other plans.

Walking down the sidewalk, he held her hand, smiling at her constant prodding.

“What is it, Zashi.  Tell me.  Where are we going?”

“I thought you said you liked my surprises, Babe.”

“Surprises, yes.  Suspense.  No.”  She waited for another block but couldn’t resist.  “Zashi, please.  Just give me a hint.”

“Fine.” He said, stopping and turning to face her.  “I’ll give you a hint if you agree to go along with my plan.”

“I don’t even know what you’re planning!”

He tilted his head to the right.  “We’re gonna go into that store and get fancied up.”

“What?”

“The place I have reservations for is a bit formal.”  He told.

She stared up at him, taking a moment to find the right words.  “Well… Surely you brought a suit if you made reservations.  I—I think the dress I wore to Nemuri's twenty-first birthday still fits.  Will that—will that do?”

“No. It was a very lovely dress.”  And I fantasied about having you in and out of it often, he thought.  “But...”  I want to get you something special.  See you in something different.  Something that I chose for you.  “We don’t have time.”

“We don’t have the time to go back to my place and change, yet have time to kill shopping for formal wear?”  She asked, dubiously.

“Who said anything about shopping?  Our digs are ready and waiting for us.”

“Hizashi.”

He heard the doubt and scolding in her voice, but before she could argue he took her hand and led her inside.  “It’s fine, Ris Wren. It’ll be great.  I promise.  Please, just roll with it.  For me.”

She had worried about the cost of the dress, she didn’t charge those she taught much more than was necessary for her to get by.  And being a lone underground hero with her own agency, she didn’t make anything from her hero work.  The areas she patrolled were too poor.

But she needn’t have worried.  Hizashi had already paid for the dress.

Of course he had, she thought.  She should have figured that from the start.

The fit room Attendant had offered to take her clothes and bag them; but Teris had asked for a bag, saying she’d see to her stuff herself. Though she had grown up in the world of finer things and staff tending to her needs, she had always been independent.  Not to mention her hero training had taught her to be mindful of her own gear.

How Hizashi had known her dress and shoe size boggled; till she realized that he could have simply noticed or purposeful looked anytime he had stayed at her place.

Along with the bag for her clothes, Teris accepted a brush from the Attendant, and was soon stepping out to meet Hizashi back at the stores entrance.

“Wow! You look beautiful, Wren.”

As self-conscious as she was about the high slit and bare back of the clingy floor length slip dress, Teris looked Hizashi over.  “You look pretty sharp yourself, Handsome.”

“This old thing?”  He played.

She glimpsed a thin square box in his hand.  “Zashi.  What’s that?”

He could tell from her tone that she already knew, but presented the box anyway.  “Finishing touches.”

“Yamada Hizashi.”

He opened the box, and stepped to her.  “Come on, Babe.  A girl needs jewelry.”

She looked at the simple gold earrings and long, gold chain telling herself that at least it wasn’t something big and super expensive. As it was, she wasn’t happy.

“Can’t a guy treat his girl?  Let me give you this, Wren.  It’s not like I’m struggling for dough here.”

“It’s not about the money.”

Lie! It was totally about the money.  She had never been good at accepting gifts.  Even back in UA, when Shouta would come by her work so they could study during her break and he brought food for them to snack on, knowing she rarely ate outside of school.  It was one of the few things he had continued to do after...

“This was suppose to make you happy, Ris.  I just wanted to make you as happy as you make me.”

Shaking off the memories of Shouta and the night that had ruined everything between them, she placed her hands on Hizashi’s chest.  “You don’t need to give me gifts to make me happy, Sunshine.  You don’t even need to take me out.  Just being with you, no matter where we are, makes me happy.”

Though it was more for his happiness than hers, she took the earrings from the velvet box and put them on.

Before she could change her mind, Hizashi quickly took the delicate gold bracelet and put it on her.

“It really is a lovely set, Zashi.  Thank you.”

“Only the best for my girl.  Here, let me help you with the necklace.” He said, moving behind her.

The necklace was a lariat style, that he position so the long chain trailed down her back.

She shivered when the cool metal brushed the ticklish spot on her back.

“Cold? Need me to get you a coat to match, Sweetheart?”

“No.” She said, thankful that she hadn’t blurted the word.  It was all too much already.

He kissed her shoulder, the tip of his nose brushing up the curve of her neck, the knuckles of his fingers trailing down her goose prickled back.

“You really do look beautiful, Ris.”  He murmured, against her ear. “You make that dress look pretty good too.  All this time I couldn’t wait to see you in it but now,” he pressed his half hard cock against her ass, “all I wanna do is to get you out of it.”

“Sir. You’re ride has arrived.”  The stores doorman informed.

“Ride?” Teris echoed, looking back at Hizashi.

Hizashi grinned at her.  “You didn’t think I’d have my girl get all dolled up only to make her walk or take the bus to dinner, did you?”

He took her hand and lead her outside.  Despite it being late March, the early evening wind held a slight chill that made him wish he had gotten her a matching coat.  But he had been selfish, wanting nothing to cover her banging body.

“A limo?  Hizashi.”

“You can fuss inside, Babe.  We don’t wanna be later for dinner.”

And fuss she did, or at least tried to.  It was difficult to complain when Hizashi's hands and lips were all over her, distracting her from the obscene extravagance of the night.

Dinner was at one of the finest restaurants in the city.  A place where one of her friends had taken their long time girlfriend to propose.  It was because of that, that she knew the place was booked always book full for at least three months in advance.

“What’d you do Zashi?  Make reservations the weekend we happened upon each other?”  Though her tone was teasing, she felt slightly uneasy.

How could she not?  She wasn’t used to formal dress and fancy places. At least not any more.  And then there had been his comments yesterday about her moving in with him.  Granted it had been in response to the Hero Commission threatening to once again to do away with private instructors of the hero course which would see her out of a job; but still.

She just hoped that he wasn’t going to propose.  She highly doubted he was going to propose.  Please, don’t let him propose.  She liked him.  Loved being with him.  Possibly even loved him, but--

“It’s all in the name, Babe.  You’d be surprised what people are willing to give and do when they hear it’s for Present Mic.  I’ve become pretty spoiled by it, actually.  Knowing I’ll always get what I want.”

She thought of the scores of people he had attracted the few times he had joined her on patrol, and didn’t doubt him.  How he managed his own patrols when he had turned hers into something of a fan fest was beyond her.

He ordered them a bottle of wine, and soon their entrees were served.

Their conversation turned to the recently ended school year, and their relief at being done with all the paperwork that entailed.

“It looked like Shouta had been deep in it during our video chat.” Teris said, speaking about the end of year work.

Hizashi's hand tightened around his fork, the sudden rushing sound of blood making it difficult for him to hear what else she said.

“I hope he didn’t think me rude.  It kind of seemed as if we ran him out of there.”

“You? Rude?  Come on, Babe!”  He set the fork down, least he bend it. “Eraser’s the one that’s rude.  Everyone knows that.  He can’t help it.  It’s just the way he is.”

Teris opened her mouth to argue, but closed it feeling weird correcting Hizashi about his best friend.

But, surely Hizashi knew that Shouta wasn’t rude.  Shouta was short and abrupt, yes.  But he wasn’t rude.  Rudeness implied intend.  A deliberate decision to be impolite; and Shouta was simply too kind-hearted and caring for that.

Hizashi picked up his glass, hoping to swallow down the bubble of jealousy along with the wine.  It was their eight week anniversary.  Why was she bringing Shouta up?

“Speaking of that vid chat.”  He set down the glass and cleared his throat. “I hope I didn’t freak you out with all that talk about you moving in with me if you came to work at UA.”

“So you were just making light, trying to take my mind off of it all.” She said, the relief clear in her voice.

“Yeah!” No.  Not in the least, he thought.  “I mean I’d gladly let you stay till you found a place.  But yeah.  I was totally trying to ease the tension I saw in those beautiful shoulders of yours, Babe.”

He waved the waiter over, trying to hide his confused disappointment, and ordered a slice of chocolate cake.

He didn’t understand it.  Why was she so hesitant?  They had known each other for years!  Okay three years, with a five year stint in between where they only really got to see each other and hang that one time at Nemuri's birthday party three years ago.  But still, they’d been together for eight whole weeks!  He was staying at her place all this week.  And she was be coming back to Musutafu with him to stay the following week at his place.  How was she totally fine with that, but balked at the idea of moving in together?

The dessert arrived and Hizashi urged.  “Dig in, Babe.”

“Aren’t you going to have some?”

He gave her a sly grin.  “I’m saving room for much sweeter dessert.”

“Hizashi!” She blushed.

“And you can be sure I’m gonna devour every last drop of--”

“I get it, Zashi!  Please!”

He sat back, placing his debit card on the table.  “You’re cute when you’re like this, Babe.  All red and embarrassed.  But I gotta admit, my favor look on you is when you’re damp and red from--”

“Yamada Hizashi!  Stop.”  She threw her napkin across the table at him.

“Finish up your cake, Love.  You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.”

Teris had asked if the limo could drop them off a few blocks from her apartment.  It wasn’t only that she lived in a not so good part of town and didn’t want her seedier neighbors thinking she had stuff worth stealing, but she had needed some air.

Back at the restaurant, Hizashi's hands had begun roaming over her bare back and shoulders from the moment he had helped her from her seat. It had only only gotten worse, or better, as soon as the limo door had closed.  Not that she had complained.  In fact her own hands had eagerly done their share of roaming over Hizashi's body during the ride.

“I know I made a fuss, but this was really nice, Zashi.  A wonderful way to spend our eight week anniversary.”

Hizashi smiled, arm tightening around her waist.

Teris leaned into him as they walked.  “Though I think I figured out why you made such a big deal of it all.”

“Do you now?”  He asked, grin growing wider.

He called her Love and fawned over her enough that she should know; but he had yet to tell her he loved her.  It wasn’t that he was nervous.  He just didn’t think she was ready to hear it yet.  But, if she had figured it out and was acting so calmly...

“This is the longest you’ve been in a relationship.”  She jested, knowing that it wasn’t true.  She distinctly remembered Hizashi dating a Gen Ed girl for most of their third year at UA.  

“What?” Hizashi managed to stop the downward pull of his lips and lessen his frown, lightening his expression.  “I made a big deal cause you’re a big deal, Ris.”

She saw the hurt in his spirally green eyes, and regretted her play.  It was only that this was the longest relationship she had ever been. In truth, it was the only relationship she had ever been in.  And while Hizashi really was the sweetest boyfriend she ever could have imagined…

“You’re a big deal to me!”  He stressed.

They had stopped and were facing each other.  Though apologetic, she didn’t know what to say.  She had never been good at apologies.  If she had, maybe she and Shouta...

“I know you’re anxious, Ris.”

“Y—you do?

Hizashi smiled softly and cupped her face.  “You still don’t think much of yourself, do you?”

“I--”

“It’s alright, Baby.”  His thumb caressed her cheek.  “I’ll show you just how prefect and amazing you are as soon as we get home.”

Next chapter we'll see some of that rougher, more teasing smut I prefer to write. I PROMISE! We'll also get to see protective Hizashi stand up to the number 2 pro hero.

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special thank you to those who have left comments or re-blogged.  They really mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship.  This fic was my personal guilt pleasure, and without them never be getting posted.

[aka-willow]

One More Time

gif

Words: 1058

Characters: Willow Wren, Marty Fields, Annabel Carson

Prompt/Tag:

10. “Please don’t make me socialize.”

28. “I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

Summary: Willow deals with third-wheeling with Marty and Annabel before the dance

Timeline: December 2015

Song: Hammer to Fall - Queen

A/N: adfaadsklf this is bringing back way too many memories for comfort

—————————————————————————–

I sat with Annabel on the bleachers as we watched Marty’s playoff game before the winter dance that night, both of us freezing our butts off as we shivered on the metal seats. I took another look at the clock; there were ten minutes left in the game. Okay. I can do that. I clapped my gloved hands together. “Let’s go Marty!” They were down by three, but Marty had been killing it in midfield.

Annabel checked her phone and I saw her clicking through Snapchat. “Oh, the gymnasium looks really cool,” she said, showing me a picture.

“Oh, neat,” I said, catching a glimpse of the blue and white decorations.

“You’re going, right? Marty said you’re coming with us?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But me and a few others are sneaking out early to see The Force Awakens.”

“Why though?” asked Annabel. “Didn’t it just come out?”

“Well, we don’t want to see spoilers,” I explained. “I’ve had to be offline all day just to avoid them, which is really hard, harder than you’d think because people try to hide spoilers in memes…” I trailed off as I realized she wasn’t listening. There were now five minutes left on the clock and the coach subbed Marty out, who waved to us once he got to the sidelines.

“Oh my God,” said Annabel, suddenly, back on Snapchat. “Did you see that dashcam video of the guy throwing that cop?  Here? In NYC?”

Jessica had mentioned it to me, apparently, she knew the guy, but I hadn’t seen that the video hit mainstream social media. “Good for him,” I said. “Stick it to the man.”

“Seriously?” Annabel asked. “He threw a policeman. At his own police car.”

What… is her dad a cop or something? I always got that vibe. “Oh… I mean… it’s just cool. You know? Like… dude’s strong.”

Annabel shook her head. “My dad catches people like him,” she said, and my head jerked up to look at her. “He doesn’t tell me much since it’s like government business or whatever, but they’re dangerous.”

“Okay,” I said, just hoping to shut down the conversation. Marty, you really know how to pick ‘em. I wondered if he knew.

“I mean, don’t you agree?” Annabel asked me. “Especially after that thing with Sokovia—”

The final buzzer rang, and the game ended, Marty’s team gathering on the sidelines to celebrate even making the playoffs, and I climbed down off the bleachers to greet them. “Yes, let’s go Midtown Tigers!” I was determined to ignore Annabel, not wanting it to sour my mood. Yeah, so she hates mutants. Who doesn’t, honestly? We suck.

Marty greeted us as soon as his team disbanded, running over to us on the opposite sideline, practically leaping across the field. “That was the furthest we’ve made it in years!” he exclaimed. Annabel linked hands with him as we walked to catch the subway, and Marty replayed the game for us all the way to the platform, even though we had been there to watch it. As we boarded the train, Annabel put us on a schedule.

“Okay, so it’s four now, and the dance starts at seven, so we have three hours to get ready.” She had dropped her stuff off at our apartment last night and some people from the soccer team and Marty’s other friend group were coming over to the apartment to get ready. “And then everyone is coming at five!”

“Please don’t make me socialize,” I whispered to Marty, and he smirked.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered back. “You’ll have fun.”

We got back to the apartment late after the train was delayed. I barely had time to clean up in the bathroom and change my outfit for the dance— a long sleeve, black turtlenecked dress that hid the wings—before people started arriving. I stared at myself in the mirror before changing, trying to hype myself up. Look, you did that musical last month. Now try this. Plus, you, Peter, Ned, and Kate are leaving early, so it won’t even be that long. Still, I found myself hiding in the bathroom for a long time before finally emerging to a full living room.

“Ooh, Willow, I love your dress!” one of the girls chirped. “It’s really cute!”

“Thanks,” I managed. “Yours is really nice too. Really… blue. Fits the theme.”

I was mostly quiet as the others talked over pizza (not Dominos) and discussed drama that occurred that week at school. I texted the group chat I had with the others and counted down the minutes until we were leaving. Just think about Star Wars later. That’ll be fun.

“Has anyone seen my eyeliner pen?” Annabel called from the bathroom as she did her makeup in the mirror. “I can’t find it.”

“Lose it?” Marty asked. “Guys, has anyone seen an eyeliner pen?”

“I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

“I have one,” I offered. “Want to borrow it?”

“That would be amazing.”

I sighed and got up, opening my drawer in the bathroom to rummage through the mess and find one of my eyeliner pens, one of the cheap ones. God, it’s in here somewhere. I pulled out a hairbrush and extra toothpaste, setting those on the counter, growing self-conscious as Annabel stared down into the messy drawer. My finger grasped something metal and when Annabel looked away, I fumbled for the object and found a small flash drive nestled among my hair ties. Jesus. I gotta get more organized. I slipped the flashdrive into the one pocket on my dress and finally found the eyeliner.

“Here,” I said, holding it up. “Sorry it took so long.”

“We ready to go?” one of the guys called from the other room. “Should we start calling Ubers?”

“I’ll be right out,” Annabel yelled, and I forced myself to not cover my ears when she did so. “I’ll give this right back,” she told me. “If you wanna grab your jacket and things.”

Getting Marty’s friends all out of the door on time was almost impossible, as the one guy who wore a tie kept asking for help to fix it, and one girl’s eyeliner just wasn’t even as she kept trying to fix it. But finally, finally, we were on our way, and I texted the others to let them know.

[justanoutlawfic]

Where You Lead: Here Comes The Son Pt. I

Summary: Henry and Jacinda have dinner with their estranged son.

Based on a prompt by @queen-of-the-merry-men, surrounding Henry and Mat having a falling out that lasts a couple of years. This takes place when Mat is 27, Henry is 49.

Also on AO3

Quiet.

 That was still something that Henry was getting used to.

 After 22 years of having the triplets under their roof, with the addition of little Wren coming later on, he wondered if he ever would get a moment’s peace. If there’d ever be a time where the girls weren’t arguing over who’s sweater belonged to whom or reprimanding Mat for sneaking in late. There were no more sounds of Barney or the Magic School Bus, the only toys were for their grandchildren when they came by. Family dinners were held at Belle’s, so the only times things ever got loud were when they had the occasional one there.

 Still, though, he never regretted stopping at three. He loved his kids, but coming home to his sexy wife and having it just be them was pretty damn nice too.

 “Honey, I’m home,” he called out, jokingly.

Jacinda’s laugh boomed from the kitchen, poking around the corner. “Hey babe. How was work?”

“Good. We got everything together on time.”

“Do you ever not?”

“No, but you know me…”

“Wren Gold’s grandson?”

 Henry flashed her a sad smile, looking at the entry way wall. It had the last family picture they would ever take, that would actually be complete. His grandfather stood front and center, his hand firmly on his cane. His hair was grey, there were tons of wrinkles, but he also had his namesake and great-great-grandchild on his hip and was smiling. Neal and Henry stood on either side of him, wearing matching suits, fulfilling the eldest Gold man’s lifelong dream. The triplets were in the front, lined up in a row with Melody beside Lucy. Alba and Gideon were also side by side, Emma and Belle not far behind with Gideon’s husband, Roderick and Alba’s wife, Raven with their respective kids. Neal and Emma’s other kids took up the space on the bottom, showing just how much their family had grown over the years and that DNA truly didn’t mean a damn thing.

 None of them could’ve imagined that just a few short months later, Wren would be gone. To Henry, he was immortal. Some kind of never aging God that could withstand anything. Sure, he had become a grandfather young and a great-grandfather not much older and that might have had something to do with it, but he just seemed to be there for everything. He saw Henry graduate high school, then college. Then, Wren had done the same for his great-grandchildren, supporting whatever they had wanted to do. Henry knew realistically that he wouldn’t live to see Xiomara’s daughter grow up, but he lived in ignorant bliss.

 He made it to 90 years old, before they found out about his heart. There were treatments and no expense was spared, but ultimately, he was gone. Wren’s spirit left the world, leaving his family to mourn the heavy loss.

 Henry shook it off, walking closer to his wife. “What’s for dinner? Anyone stopping through?”

“No, it’s just us. I’m making empanadas,” Jacinda said, kissing him once he reached the kitchen. “Lucy called, she and Mel are going to drop Sebastian off here tomorrow. It’s their anniversary.”

“Sounds good to me, they haven’t been out since he was born.”

“Exactly. Xo texted, Wren’s so excited for her first day of school.”

Henry grinned; he couldn’t believe his granddaughter was old enough for school. “That’s great. She’s going to be so smart. She’s a Tremaine-Cassidy-Gold after all.” He started walking to the fridge, opening it to grab a water.

“Also…Mat called.”

He froze, his hand hovering over the water. “Huh?”

“He um…said he has some news.”

“Oh.” Henry’s hand floated from the water over to the beer, grabbing one. “Wonder what it could be.” He cracked open the beer and took a long swig.

Jacinda sighed. “I don’t know, Henry, but he’s reaching out. That’s good, right?”

“Right, right. I’m glad he knows what a phone is.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Henry. Don’t. You are just as much at fault for what’s going on between you two.”

“Me?!? I’m not the one who…” He trailed off when he saw the look on his wife’s face, sighing. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to take this out on you. I know all of this has been hard on you and Mat’s relationship.”

Jacinda took a few steps forward, putting her hands on his hips. “This could be the start of something,” she whispered. “Maybe it’s an olive branch. Maybe you two can finally talk it out.”

“Maybe,” Henry mumbled. He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his son. God, he missed him. More than anything he wished Wren was still around so he could talk to his grandfather about what he went through those first 10 years of his life when Neal barely spoke to him. “When are we seeing him?”

“He wants to take us out to eat, Hugo’s.”

Henry gave a weird look. “Of course…willing to drop money…”

“Henry!”

“I’m going to be nice! I promise!”

“Good.” Jacinda turned back to her cooking. “Because this is a good thing.”

“A good thing,” Henry echoed, his eyes traveling to the fridge. Like the walls in their house, it was a shrine to their family. There was a picture of him and Mat, on his son’s prom night. He had helped him get ready, just as Neal had with him. They had so much fun, laughing and talking about his plans for the night. They once had such a great relationship. Things had gone wrong so long before “the incident” and he didn’t understand how.

***

Hugo’s was a place that Wren and Belle probably would’ve dragged them to once upon a time. High prices, tiny portions and a dress code. Men wore jackets, women were encouraged to be in skirts. A man played classical piano, the same tune throughout the night. It was the exact scene that one would expect from a Yale graduate. Yet, Henry had spent most of his time in places like Granny’s, in his jeans no less. Now, he was wearing a suit and tie, while Jacinda wore a nice dress, her hair curled.

 “Mom, Dad!”

 They turned to find Mat headed their way, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach the eyes. Henry had noticed that a lot the older his son got. He wore a suit-probably designer-and had his dark hair slicked down. At one point, he had curls that he inherited from both sides of his family, but he hardly let those show. When he leaned in to kiss Jacinda’s cheek, Henry could smell his overpowering cologne.

 “Hey baby,” Jacinda said, her voice light and happy. “You look great.”

“Me? Look at you! Smoking, Mom, truly.” He chuckled before turning to smack five with his dad. “Dad.”

Henry couldn’t believe Mat was acting as if nothing had happened, and yet, that seemed exactly like him. “Matias. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. Come sit. I’ve got the best seat in the house.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

 Mat and the hostess lead them over to a table by the window, a tad more private than the hustle and bustle of the busy middle. Henry watched as his son smiled and nodded to some people on the way to the table, clearly colleagues and partners.

 Taking after his father and grandfather, Mat had gone to an Ivy League school-though he had opted for Stanford. Getting a scholarship and other aid, he had pulled off a miracle by barely needing to borrow any money from his great-grandfather. While there, he had helped develop an app with some friends. It didn’t go very far, but with that experience, he was able to get a great job at a software development company in Manhattan.

 “So, how’s Tiffany?” Henry asked, settling down to look at the menu. He had to do his best to not bulge his eyes at the prices. Wren Gold was his grandfather, but he had been raised on McDonalds and Kraft mac & cheese.

Mat’s brows furrowed. “Broke up years ago, Dad.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that. She was nice.” The truth was, Henry had met her probably twice before Wren died. She was a skinny red head, who wore a diamond necklace to Granny’s and worried about getting mugged in front of Old Man Twickam’s house.

“Right…”

Jacinda cleared her throat, keeping a smile on her face. “So, Matty, how’s business?”

“It’s going great. We’ve been developing a new software for a medical company these past few months, so it’s taken up most of my time,” Mat explained, that not-smile returning. “And you? Xo told me that you expanded the daycare.”

 Henry listened to the two of them talk about Jacinda’s new business, but only half-heartedly. Eventually the waitress came over, and Mat took over the ordering. Henry barely recognized the son in front of him. Growing up, Mat had been shy, a bit of a recluse. In fact, he reminded Henry a lot of himself. Lucy and Xiomara were very active, taking stands for what they believed in. Mat ended up making a core group of friends in high school, but this charming, charismatic, flirt had emerged from college.

 “Now that we have that out of the way,” Mat said once the waitress walked off. “Let’s get to my news.”

“Yes, your mother said it was quite big.”

Mat nodded. For once, the smile slipped and he looked a bit serious. “I know I haven’t exactly been the world’s best uncle.”

“You were in college when Wren was born,” Jacinda assured him. “And Sebastian just came along. There’s time.”

“Well, I want to do more, be there.”

Henry tilted his head. “Are you moving back to Stars Hollow?”

“Oh no. However, I have been talking to Nana Belle a lot lately. She’s doing well, but with the twins out of the house, married and all, Pop-Pop’s place is just getting to be too big for her.”

 Henry and Jacinda nodded. Belle had mentioned that at one of the last family dinners. She had been looking into purchasing their vacation home on the Cape full time, but wasn’t sure what to do with the house. It had been Wren’s first step away from Malcolm. Emma and Neal didn’t need it much either, even the kids they had adopted were grown and they only took in emergency placements, focusing on the inn now that Granny had passed. The rest of the family either had no use for it or couldn’t afford it.

 “She wants to keep the house in the family, so she’s offered to sell it to me.”

Jacinda’s grin only widened. “Well, I think that’s great.”

Henry frowned. “But what about your job?”

“I can commute to the city. It’s only an hour, by car or train.”

“It’s far too big for you by yourself.”

“Well, hopefully one day I’ll be able to fill it with kids like Pop-Pop and Nana Belle did.”

 Henry didn’t say anything further, he just sipped on his water. He could feel the anger inside of him building. Deep down, he knew that he should be happy that the house was staying in the family, but of all the people for it to go to…

 He didn’t say much else as the night went on. Instead, Henry focused on his tiny portions, disgusting wine and half-listened to Jacinda’s questions about the move, him selling his loft on the Upper East Side and more. As he sat there, he realized that he had so much anger to his son, a boy that once lit up his heart and made him smile like no one else could. Now, he was just so disappointed and no matter how hard he tried…he just couldn’t shake it.

 Eventually, the dinner came to an end. Henry was irritated, tired, buzzed and still hungry. Mat paid the check and kissed his mom’s cheek, before patting his dad on the back. He said he’d be in touch, but in the meantime, he had to get back into the city due to an “early morning”. Jacinda handed Henry the valet tag, asking him to grab the car while she went to the bathroom.

 Henry made his way outside, handing the tag to the employee. As he stood there waiting, he noticed Mat was there as well, fiddling with a cigarette.

 “They always take forever,” he mumbled when he saw his father. “Great food, shit valet.”

“Surprise you grace them with your presence,” Henry muttered.

Mat chuckled, taking a drag. “Ya know, most fathers would be glad that their sons would be moving closer, but you?” He shook his head. “Only you would be upset.”

“I’m not upset, Mat.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.” He turned to his son. “I just don’t get why you’re interested in the house of the man that you couldn’t bother to come to the funeral for.”

Mat’s lips drew a firm line. “I thought we could get past this.”

“How?” Henry felt his body trembling. “Do you know what Grandpa meant to me? He put me through school, both prep and college. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have met your mother, you kids wouldn’t even be here.”

“I’ve heard the stories, Dad.”

Henry continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I went to him for advice for so much. He was there for me, but most importantly, for all of you kids. He and Belle took you and your sisters on vacations, sleepovers, all of that. He loved you so damn much…and what do you do? You skip his funeral to attend a business trip in Tokyo.”

Mat bit his lip. “Dad…”

“But hey, don’t worry. At least we got fucking flowers, huh?”

 Mat exhaled, letting out some of the smoke he had just let in. He stared forward for a few minutes, the only sounds being the ambient noises of the restaurant behind them and the cicadas chirping in the warm, Connecticut summer air.

 “We’re doing this, huh?” Mat asked, and Henry realized he was talking to himself. “I guess we are.” He dropped the cigarette and fully faced his dad. “I talked to Pop-Pop ever day leading up to his death, ever since he got sick. I called him every single day, if I couldn’t see him in person that was.”

Henry folded his arms over his chest. “Okay?”

“You said he paid for your school, but you know he paid for mine too right? What I couldn’t. He also was the one person I could go to, for anything. He was my outlet, for my entire life.”

Henry felt his face fall and his muscles loosen. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Dad…did you ever stop to consider that I never told you what I wanted to be when I grow up?”

He paused for a moment. “When you were 5…you said you wanted to be a fireman.”

“I mean, seriously. As a teenager, you could tell that Xiomara wanted to be a lawyer, and that Lucy wanted to go into photography. But did you even know that I was interested in tech?”

“You never told me.”

“Did you ever ask?”

Henry fumbled over himself. “Well…I…” He trailed off. “We talked, about a lot of stuff.”

“I’m not denying that we did. You’d ask how my day was, but beyond “Good”, how much did you really hear?”

 Henry’s mouth dropped open. No, this wasn’t true. He knew his kids; he knew all of them. They all had a great relationship with one another, or at least they had before his son became a total snob obsessed with himself.

 “This is ridiculous. We had a good relationship, Mat. Up until you went to college, we were close. Then you got on this high horse and it was hard to get you down.”

Mat scoffed. “Right, of course that’s how you see it.”

 A black Cadillac, resembling his grandfather’s way too much, pulled up and the valet stepped out. Mat handed the guy some cash and walked over to the door, looking up at his dad.

“It was good seeing you, Dad. Say hi to Xiomara and Lucy for me.”

 He got into the car and drove away. Henry stood in the dust, feeling a mix of anger, confusion and mostly hurt.

[lindsayslife]

The Simple Wild - K. A. Tucker

Rating: 4/5 Length: 388 pages Genre: Romance, Contemporary, New Adult

CAUTION: Spoilers

This book had me in tears mixed up with all of my emotions last night when I finished it. It’s about this girl named Calla who is your typical 26 year old girl from a big city - obsessed with looks, fashion, and instagram. The book starts off with her losing her job and later on when she is going to go to a club with her friend, she finds out her dad has lung cancer. Her dad lives in Alaska and she hasn’t spoken to him since she was 12 years old so she was on the fence about going. At the club that night, she saw her boyfriend cheating on her with a coworker while when she tried to text him earlier he would barely reply to her and would say that he’s busy with work. She breaks up with him and decides to embark on a trip to Alaska.

Her dad lives in the more remote park of Alaska (Bangor) so when she arrives at Anchorage, a man who works for her dad (Jonah) has to fly a smaller plane the rest of the way. He chooses one of the smallest planes they have to be a dick to the new girl.

At first when she arrives, it’s kind of awkward between her and her dad and she is unsure whether she made the correct decision. Throughout the novel so many relationships blossom and adventures to other parts of Alaska on planes ensue. The ending is beautiful - though I wish there was an epilogue or something to make it even better.

I knocked it down a star from 5 because Calla was really annoying in the beginning of the book. All of her thoughts were “woe is me...” when I think she should’ve been stronger for a 26 year old woman.

I think what really made me emotional was thinking about my own father. I loved that they lived life to the fullest despite Calla’s father growing weaker by the day. Before people pass that is ideally what should happen - they should be able to live life to the fullest with their loved ones around them. But while Calla’s dad got sick quickly, my dad was sick and suffering for a long time - so for the past few years of his life is was difficult to do much.

1. If you were to move to Bangor, Alaska, what luxury would be the hardest for you to live without?

Probably decently priced grocery store foods. Even my daughter (like Mabel) brought me home a chicken to skin and cook, I don’t think I’d be able to do it. When Calla mentioned that cereal was $14, I thought of all the times I complained about NYC cereal being $6.

2. Calla and Jonah both feel strongly about the benefits of their preferred living environment. What are some of the advantages of living in the city? What are some of the upsides of living in a more rural area?

City - easier to get around to places (public transportation, and everything is closer), being close to a variety of hospitals and medical centers if you end up needing treatment, cheaper groceries, more variety of where to live and restaurants to eat at.

Rural - the biggest advantage is how everyone is like a family - when you’re in a city no one will so much as look your way (unless they’re being disgusting and trying to get your attention that way), less noise since you are more secluded, more appreciative of the things you do have (instead of feeling like you always need the newest thing so you’re never truly happy. A good example of this is cars - people in cities buy cars more often than people who live in rural areas where all cars have to be imported so they’re more expensive).

3. The book’s title “The Simple Wild” is echoed in character’s descriptions of Alaska. Discuss what you think “simple” means in this context. Why do you think the author chose this title? What is its significance in the novel?

I think this novel perfectly embodies “simplicity is best.” I think “simple” means going back to your roots - being more self sufficient and living in an intertwined community. I think the author chose “simple” to show the beauty in simplicity. When you first hear of Bangor, Alaska you think “why would anyone go there? What is there to do there? Wouldn’t you get bored living there?” but throughout the novel you hear of tourists that take trips into the remote parts of Alaska to go fishing, and what happened in that safety cabin in the middle of nowhere was nothing short of uninteresting ;). Also during the party in the book they were reminiscing about other parties they have thrown and good times they have had. The day to day is monotonous anywhere - in the city or rural. It is up to you to make your life joyful.

4. Calla goes through a number of life-changing experiences, including meeting her father in person for the 1st time since she was a toddler, traveling around rural Alaska and seeing how people live there, her father’s illness, and meeting Jonah. How do Calla, Jonah, & Wren’s characters develop over the course of the book as a result of these experiences?

Calla - I think she definitely grows up throughout the novel. She was a lot less annoying by the end of the book. What I thought was interesting was that after she broke up with the boyfriend she was with for a few years, she got over him very quickly when she started falling for Jonah. But when she left Jonah to go back home, she didn’t immediately hop back to the club to find a rebound. Sure she would still go clubbing with her friends, but it said that she would “ghost as soon as she could” to go hang at home. She also moved away from Calla and Dee - of course Dee was already more into it but you could tell that by the end, Calla saw how insignificant the website was in the realm of her new life.

Jonah - I don’t think Jonah’s core personality truly changed much. But you could see him being less mean to Calla but deep down he was really caring for her - retrieving her suitcase (even though he hid it from her for a few days), putting her groceries neatly in the fridge, getting her Silk soy milk, etc. I think the biggest change was the trying to come to a compromise with Calla in the end by moving closer to Anchorage - so she could have a city life while he can still have a rural life.

Wren - I think the biggest catalyst for Wren’s changes were Jonah - he pushed him to open up to Calla more. By talking to Calla more, he could pass with less regrets. I wished he stopped smoking in the book - his decline may have been slower. But I guess I can see the other side, if it’s something you enjoy doing and you’re going to die anyways, why not do it?

5. For Wren and Susan, their respective desires about where to live were deal breakers, despite their love for each other. What are your deal breakers? Are there things about your life that you would be unwilling to let go of if your partner wouldn’t or couldn’t agree to them, no matter how much you loved that person?

I like to think I’m pretty malleable - I’ve lived in many places and have had to adapt to a lot of different situations. This biggest thing for me is that the person has to love me for who I truly am - my quirks and all. They also have to allow me to be my own person and have some alone time. I could pretty much live anywhere (thought Alaska would be hard since I hate the cold).

6. Simon serves as a voice of reason for Calla and is able to remain objective & compassionate, despite being emotionally involved both as her stepfather and as Susan’s husband. Although he does not share his feelings with Calla, what do you think this story was like from his perspective?

Throughout Simon’s marriage to Susan (Calla’s mom), he always knew he was “second best.” That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt him any less. He even knew that Wren was talking to Susan on the phone during that period of time. Deep down, I think Simon is hurt but he also knows Susan wouldn’t leave him.

7. As Calla gets to know her father, there is a lot of discussion of regret, both his own regrets in life and the possibility that Calla could regret not spending more time with him if he doesn’t survive his illness. Do you think Calla’s decisions helped alleviate remorse on either side, or is it in some way unavoidable for each of them to experience?

I think Calla definitely alleviated some of her father’s regret but in turn she made it difficult for herself. She couldn’t alleviate the regret of so much time wasted between them but it was definitely better for them to get to know each other rather than not.

8. After Jonah’s plane crashes, Calla’s mother, Susan, tells her about the constant anxiety she had about Wren’s safety in his work as a bush pilot. Jonah plans to continue to work as a bush pilot for the rest of his life. How do you think this will affect his relationship with Calla in the future? Will Calla develop the same anxieties her mother held?

I absolutely think Calla will have the same anxieties as her mother - even when Jonah had that accident Calla’s anxiety was through the roof. I don’t know if Susan worked for Wren at Alaska Wild, but maybe is Calla is involved with Jonah’s business and sees how often it goes okay, it may ease it a little bit.

9. Ultimately, Jonah attempts to find a compromise that he and Calla will both be happy with. Do you think they will be able to make their relationship work?

I think if Calla gives a little too and is willing to give it a try - their relationship will work.

[xaz-fr]

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Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

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My favorite thing about Spayar is that no matter how cool he is or becomes this chapter still happens and shows he’a fucking idiot lols.

On the few clear days in the Meltong Basin during the wet season Assarus came to life like an ant hive. Most people tried to stay indoors as often as possible in the autumn because it rained nearly every day, so when the sky was clear and the weather warlockd predicted no rain everyone made sure to make the most of it. Spayar was on his mare in traffic, Duren sitting in front of him, sitting straight up and looking all around. Thankfully Spayar still had several inches on him or it would be a problem. 

His mare barely noticed the extra weight. She had a deep brown coat, thick legs, and great big hooves with great feathering. She was a horse who's ancestors had once worked the fields and now were the mounts of royalty and their favored. Von had gifted her to Spayar three years ago when Spayar complained about always having different horses wherever they went. Now she was his, he couldn't even begin to think of how expensive a horse like Spayar's was, trained for battle and didn't even flinch when her rider used magic. Not to mention the size, she was massive, and everyone got out of her way.

"Where are we going?"  Duren asked, turning around to look at Spayar, holding onto the pommel to keep from falling off.

"You'll see," though of course Duren knew why. He'd begged and begged Spayar over breakfast to show him how to ride and Spayar had given in if only to just make him shut up. By now they were leaving Bellringer and into South Garden which looked like it was trying very hard to mimic the style of Nedrag and the Garden with it's clean, boxy, buildings and covered in fauna. The city of Assarus or Surassa themselves had no one culture. They were a melting pot of all the provinces, and thus all the kingdoms the Alliance had conquered in its two thousand year being. Parts of South Garden looked like Nedalia or Dalican, there were motifs from the Yellow Hills in South Garden and he saw symbols from the city Peonia painted on the sides of buildings. People from the west of the Alliance had settled South Garden, much like the east had settled in Bellringer with it's gray stone buildings and clocks and its focus on craft rather than aesthetic.

"Shouldn't we be going outside the city?" Duren asked since South Garden was further in and really Spayar just wanted to get to Tradesmens as quickly as possible since unlike Peonia it sometimes mimicked itself after South Garden was one of the most twisting and confusing districts in the capital other than perhaps Cat's Cradle, even the Mire and Downriver were more organized than this.

"You'll see," Spayar just said again pushing his mare through a busy intersection full of people. When they saw his big war horse they jumped out of the way. Spayar was trying to be nice but he was getting annoyed with how busy this damn city was and he had a big horse. Big horses won over busy pedestrians.

"I can see Swan Island from here," Duren pointed once they finally got through South Garden and into Tradesmens. Spayar looked and indeed they could see the holy island from here over the low buildings and warehouses of Tradesmens, meaning Spayar was way off course. "Are we going to Swan Island?" Duren asked, confused.

"No," even as he made his mare head for the river. They came up to the walled bank of the Meltong and could see Swan Island easily. A small lake had formed here in the Meltong river in a low part of the land before it continued its journey south to the Break and the Fea’staal Sea. behind. Swan Island sat in the middle of the lake and it was a large, beautiful park, filled with temples. From here they could see people going in and out of them and people on horses or people enjoying the sunlight on the grass or under the trees. 

"Can we go to Swan Island?" Duren asked.

"I thought you wanted to learn to ride," Spayar said.

"Yeah I know, but we rarely go to Swan Island."

"Another time. I'll take you and the girls on Asumsest if you want," and he turned his horse to start down the road, running parallel to the river, towards the Winter Palace at the top of the hill in the distance. Tradesmens was full of canals that went into warehouses from the river and looked more like something from the country of Tipin or even Joti than anything else. Bridges spanned every canal for horses and pedestrians, though they were too steep and high to allow bigger boats through, so carriages had to take other routes. Few people were on the River Road but there were a lot of boats in the river. The Meltong was always full of boats and today was especially bad since it was full of trade ships and barges as well as personal boats with brightly colored sails or sides. At the very least both the river and the river road were orderly. 

The River Road wound north and east, through parts of South Garden, where Spayar didn’t let anyone get in his way lest they get trampled by war horse hooves, and then through the entire length of Uptown. The Hillsman children all went to school in Uptown. Mostly because their father could afford the cabby ride there and back every day and Anora’s private secondary schooling there. It was a wealthy neighborhood and it seemed like the was a bank on every street from every major city in the Alliance. At the last everyone moved with purpose here, no dawdling or frolicking about like in South Garden. Here people were all business and people stayed on the side walks and out of the traffic of horses, carriages, and some strange two wheeled contraption Spayar had never seen but flew down the street as quick as any horse. It looked like a buggy but wasn't pulled by a horse. He have to look into that.

When the River Road finally dumped them into Fey's Shadow Duren turned to Spayar accusingly. Spayar just rose his brows at his brother. Duren frowned the Hillsman frown at Spayar and turned back around. In Fey's Shadow the roads were wide and well kept, the manses behind their tall, thick, walls, were every style in the Alliance. The wealthiest people lived in Fey's Shadow and most nobles had houses here as well, and built their mansions in the style of their home province. You could see the entire gambit of architectural styles in Fey's Shadow from the low, spider web-like dwellings of the Wren-Kel, to the tall, low eaved, state house of the Peony. Spayar kept his horse on still and Duren's head kept moving, looking all around, trying to see everything. A lot of the houses were out of sight behind the walls but he tried, to caught glimpses of them through the gates.

At some point they came to the Twin Switches bridges, where the Meltong looped back around to itself and were only a few hundred feet apart. Two identical bridges built in a northern style spanned both parts of the Meltong and as they crossed the first bridge you could sort of see over the thick, protective, wall of the North estate. Duren raised himself up in the saddle a bit as though to see better before sitting back down. The North estate was the most heavily fortified estate they’d seen thus far, and the largest. Spayar knew there were bigger ones than the North’s, but it was up there.

“Who lives there?” Duren asked Spayar.

“The Norths,” Spayar said.

“Wow,” he said, “Do you know them?”

“By reputation, now sit down I can’t see,” and Duren turned right way round and sat properly as they started to cross the second Switch. Very shortly after they’d passed the North estate the road started to slant upwards to the Palace which gleamed like a snow capped mountain from the peak. 

There were no walls around the grounds of the Winter Palace, just like the rest of Assarus. There hadn't been an attack on the capital in two thousand years when neighboring nations had thought the young Alliance weak. Even the Federation wasn't stupid enough to attack their northern capital. You touched Assarus and a wrath that couldn't be imagined was unleashed. Not since Sinou's death had anyone tried to take Assarus or rather, Surassa, with any serious intent. The first Asuras had made sure the fear of what the Le'Acard could do would be felt through the ages until the end of time.

No one stopped Spayar as he rode up to the palace and Duren started to shift in front of him in wonder. It was above Duren to ever think of coming to the Winter Palace. His brother had been born and raised in Bellringer and he wasn't a knight, or a courtier or anyone of importance really.

Spayar didn't get too close to the Palace, instead he went around to the side where the stables were, where his own horse had been bred. A stable hand came out to see him when he got closer. "Sir," he bowed when he saw Spayar. Spayar recognized him.

"Oh stand up Jill," Spayar said, unimpressed. The stable hand, Jill, looked up, a rueful smile on his face like what Spayar did to Von Jill bowed to Spayar to annoy him.

The oldest son of a talented seamstress Jill was a spry young man Spayar's age with a gap in his front teeth, large ears, big green eyes, and hair the color of a carrot that stuck out wildly from any hat he tried to wear. They'd been sort of friends before Spayar had met Von, more friends because their mothers were friends. After Jill had finished his mandatory schooling in Bellringer he’d begged Spayar to get him a job in the Palace. So Spayar had and now he worked in the stables, right where Jill wanted to be with his love of animals. "You ain't impression' no one,” casually taking on the low born drawl of those in Middleton where he knew Jill lived, across the river from Bellringer.

Jill laughed and stood up straight, walking over to take the mare's bridle as Spayar dismounted with a grunt. Damn horse sometimes felt too big for him, even with his long legs. "Wha'cha here for?" Jill asked.

"Riding lessons, c'mon Duren," he held his arms up for his little brother. Duren dragged one leg over the saddle so he was sitting with both on the same side and then slid down into Spayar's arms. He wasn't strong enough to catch Duren anymore, his brother too big for that, but he could make sure he got to the ground safely.

"For who? You? You’re one of the best riders I know," and Jill sucked on his gap.

"No no, for my brother," Duren stood behind Spayar. He didn't know Jill, Spayar wasn't surprised, the damn guy slept with the horses now and rarely went home to Middleton despite talking like he'd lived there his entire life. Spayar also didn’t see or mention Jill like he did his actual friends. They’d been boys together but had nothing in common anymore and didn’t really interact except for times like these. "I need an easy horse, lower to the ground than her," he patted his mare's neck fondly.

"Wan’a pony?" he asked, "We have a few of ‘em marshy geldings.”

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

"You got it," and then he turned back towards the stables, leading Spayar's horse away. As he did Jill yelled, "Mavok, get one of the ponies saddled up!"

"Who was that?" Duren asked him.

"A friend," Spayar said, Duren just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"You have other friends other than the prince?" Duren asked.

"Of course I do," Spayar said irritably. Spayar had a lot of friends, though few good ones, and countless acquaintances he knew more about than he had any right to. "Vondugard isn't my only friend."

"Seems like," Duren said, making a face, "dooim says so a least."

"Dad doesn't know half the things I do," thank the gods for that. “Don’t listen to everything dad says, he’s not always right.”

Duren frowned, not liking Spayar talking about their dad in any negative light. “Why do I have to ride a pony? I want to ride a horse," Duren decided to complain about that instead.

"A pony is fine to start with and probably as much as a horse as you'll ever ride," he patted Duren's shoulder. Duren looked at him sourly. "You're a smith brother, not a knight, you got no need for a horse."

"What about you then? Are you a knight?"

"No," Spayar agreed. Gods no he wasn't a knight.

"Then why do you have a horse?"

Spayar laughed, "More than just knights own horses, Duren. You see people not knights on horses don't you?" Duren nodded slowly. "A horse is just expensive. Expensive to buy, expensive to care for, expensive to house. I'm really lucky to have a horse like mine. But you," he tapped his brother's nose, "will be fine with a pony for today. Once you get better we'll move you to a horse."

"Okay," Duren said, Spayar could see the wheels of Duren's mind turning. But before he could figure it all out Jill was back leading a pony, fully saddled. It was a fairly tall pony, rather thin, with long, narrow, legs, but still many hands shorter than Spayar’s mare.

"Here w’are, one of them marshy ponies of LoHanJo'in," meaning it was a Adoshade horse. They'd bred them from the water ponies who lived in and around the Boggart swamps that took up most of LoHanJo'in province. They were just tall enough to stand above the water line most places and short enough to stay out of the way of the lower branches of the trees in the swamps and small enough to squeeze between trees to escape predators.

"Thanks," Spayar said and Jill handed him the lead.

"His name's Ollie, ‘e's a good boy," and Jill patted the pony's rump, Ollie swished his tail.

"We'll have him back before lunch probably," Spayar said.

"No rush. Hillsman can take him out as long as he wants, Stablemaster said that."

“Really?’ Spayar asked, raising his brows at Jill.

“Aaaah, not in so many words,” Jill said, grinning a gap toothed grin.

“Great,” Spayar said, half laughing, “Take care of my horse while I'm out."

Jill laughed, "She'll be a princess while she's here," he promised.

Spayar grinned and motioned to his brother to follow him as he led him and the pony away from the stables. "Spayar," Duren asked as they went to a field. Unlike most of the land around the capital the hill the palace sat on was hard ground. It was why Spayar had picked up here and not just anywhere, Duren wouldn't have to worry about potholes or wetland.

"Yeah?" Spayar asked.

"Does your horse have a name?"

Spayar looked up from where he was checking the pony's bridal, "Uh... no," he realized. He'd never named his horse. Three years and his horse didn't have a name. It had honestly never occurred to him.

Duren hadn’t been expecting Spayar to actually agree with him that his horse didn’t have a name. "It doesn't?"

"I guess not," Spayar admitted and looked back on his life choices where he hadn’t named his own horse.

"You should name her," Duren insisted.

"I wouldn't even know what to call her," Spayar said, "I always just call her girl."

"That's a terrible name." Spayar frowned, now he felt weird about it. How had he not noticed he'd never named his own horse? He’d had her for three years. How hadn't anyone noticed? Or what if they had but had felt like it wasn’t their place to point it out? Maybe everyone knew Spayar’s horse didn’t have a name and wondered what was wrong with him. It made Spayar feel self conscious about the entire thing. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they knew his horse’s name either because then if they didn’t know then they would. "You should think of a name for her," Duren said.

"I guess," Spayar said, though honestly giving his horse a name now would be more weird since he was so used to her not having one. "I'll think about it, now lets get you up.” Mainly he just wanted to get off the subject of his horse not having a name. Hopefully Duren would forget that they’d ever had this conversation.

He showed Duren how to mount a horse. Duren climbed onto Ollie's back with only a bit of trouble. Spayar handed Duren the reigns and saw that Jill had also given him a long lead line as well. Thanks Jill. "Marshy ponies are really well trained," Spayar told his brother to continue to stay off the subject of his own horse. “So you just need to give it a little nudge to get him going. With your heel... yeah like that," and Duren got the pony to start to walk. "Not so tight on the reins," he said as he let the lead rope out.

"How do I turn?" Duren asked.

"Pull them the direction you want them to go. Not too hard," and Duren did so. The pony started to moved in an arc with Spayar as it's center point. Spayar turned as the pony walked and Duren was so focused on the pony it was like he’d forgotten his brother was an absolute idiot.

"Spayar," Duren said after he'd walked the pony around Spayar in a circle a few times "what's a gelding?"

"It's a boy horse that can't have children."

Duren was paying attention to the pony when he asked, "Like you?"

"What! No. I'm not a gelding," thank the gods he wasn't. He rather enjoyed all his equipment, and all their functions.

"But you can't have children," Duren looked at Spayar.

"I am fully capable," Spayar said, trying not to be irritated. Duren was only eight, he was allowed to be stupid. It was surprisingly difficult to not be angry though. "I just won't."

"Cause boys can't have babies?"

"Exactly," Spayar said, "And a gelding is a horse who's been castrated. It's different."

"Well what's castrated mean?"

"It means they cut the balls off." Spayar laughed at Duren's horrified face. His brother looked down at his lap like to assure himself he was still in one piece. "They only do it to horses,” he assured Duren. That didn't mean Spayar couldn't think of at least a dozen reasons or crimes that would get a man castrated, and not just the balls either.

"Why do they do that?"

"To make them calmer."

"But what about making more horses?"

"They don't geld all the stallions Duren," Spayar sighed, "and the Adoshade only gift out or sell gelded marshy ponies, so other places can't breed them."

"Why?"

"Politics, don't worry about it," yeah only Spayar had to worry about that sort of stuff. "Try and make your pony go faster," Spayar encouraged to get them off the talk of horse balls. First making Spayar come to the realization his horse didn’t have a name and now horse balls. Something was wrong with his little brother. Duren tapped the pony again and Ollie started to go faster.

They were out there for a while until Duren said his legs hurt. "Owww," he complained as he got off Ollie. "Why does that hurt so much?"

"You aren't used to it," Spayar said, patting Ollie who looked ready for a rest and to not go in circles anymore. Duren was rubbing the inside of his thighs, looking pained. "Lets head back to the stable, I'm sure Ollie wants his lunch," and he started to walk, Duren rubbed for a few more seconds before following.

"You rode all the way to Peonia and back in like two weeks,” Duren said, looking at Spayar with something like awe.

"I did," he agreed.

"Didn't it hurt?"

Spayar shrugged, "It's just uncomfortable. You get used to it honestly, from being in the saddle so much."

"Doesn't your dick hurt though?"

Spayar snorted, "Usually the whole area just goes numb before it starts to hurt."

"You've ridden a horse with a numb butt?" Duren cried, eyes wide.

"Yeap," Spayar said. "But I ride all the time. The more you do the less it hurts."

"Oh," Duren looked contemplative a moment. "You're not a knight, right Spayar?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you? You can fight and do magic like a knight and a  warlock, but you aren't are you?"

"I'm not a knight," Spayar said, "all magic users are warlocks, you know that."

"Then what are you?" Spayar thought about that a moment. What was he? "Spayar?"

"I'm thinkin'," Spayar said as they approached the stables. Jill didn't meet them this time and they entered the building. "Hello," he called. The royal stables were huge and each stall had a name plaque beside the door. Despite that it was easy to get lost and it wasn’t best to wander without a stablehand to guide you. "Hello," he called again. It'd take them forever to find Ollie's stall on their own. He sighed and started down the stall lined corridor, at the very least he could find Ollie's stall. Though he also needed to find his horse. This was probably a horrible idea. Where was everyone?

They walked through the stables to the other side where there was a covered area that led to one of the two large courtyards that stood guard next to the large looping drive at the front of the palace. There they found seemingly all the stable hands, standing back and out of the way. In front of them was a gilt carriage pulled by a team of four, black, horses of the same sick as his own made and standing beside it was a fair haired woman who was yelling at the holsters. Spayar recognized her by voice alone, it was Von's second oldest sister; Obi. 

"What's going on?" Spayar asked one of the stable hands quietly, thankfully Duren had enough sense to be silent.

"Her highness keeps changing her mind about what she wants," they said, frowning. "First she wanted white horses, than brown horses, now black horses, and only females. Something' wrong with the carriage, this or that uhg.” 

"Well... I have a pony that needs to be put away," Spayar said.

"At least it's something to do, what's his name?"

"Ollie."

"Right, I'll take him. You got a horse, sir?” they said and took Ollie’s lead. Meanwhile Obi was still yelling, irritated something wasn't happening fast enough. Spayar hated Obi. Spayar genuinely hated few people, but Obi was one of them. She was a handful.

“Yes, she’s a royal breed, dark brown coat, white hairs, Jill put her away for me.”

“Ah, I know that one. I’ll bring her here, sir,” and they left with Ollie.

Spayar turned around when he heard Obi crack one stable hand across the face. "Do not talk back to me," she yelled at the man who was now on the ground, hand over one side of their face.

"Apologizes your highness, I was merely-

She stepped on him, stomped was more a correct term honestly. The stable hand cried out, his sound of pain startling the horses. "I said do not talk back to me!" 

"I'm sorry," the stable hand stammered. Spayar knew he shouldn’t intervene. He didn’t really have much to do with the other royals unless they put themselves in front of him. It was less messy and he wouldn’t get to know them and feel bad when he plotted their murder. He was about to turn away and take Duren with him when he recognized the stablehand. He cursed to himself. Of course it had to be Jill. Of course it had to be because Can’dhe liked to torment him. Liked to put things in his way and test his character.

He looked down at his brother and saw his brother recognized Jill as well. What would it look like if Spayar just turned a blind eye? How could he explain to his baby brother that it was better if he didn’t get involved? He couldn’t. Not after Spayar had called Jill his friend. What sort of person left their ‘friend’ to be beat over nothing. He sighed a little. He was about to do something stupid and reckless and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Learn to listen when your betters speak," Obi spat made to stomp on Jill again. This time Spayar flicked his hand to cast a spell and caught her heeled foot in mid air with a messy weave that clung to the air on spider silk connections. It did hold her though. She whirled on the stable hands accusingly, fire in her cerulean blue eyes. "Who's doing that?" she demanded.

Nothing for it. He’d started this, he had to finish it. Spayar stepped forward, leaving Duren with another stable hand who didn't need to be told to hold his brother back. "Hello your highness," he bowed to her neatly, extending his arms a bit and wishing he was wearing a bit nicer clothes. Anyone watching saw it as mocking but Obi, unobservant as always, saw it as respectful. What she did see was that he didn’t bow nearly as low as he would to Von or even the king. The king. Her nostrils flared angrily.

Obi was the prettiest of Von’s siblings and loved the gut, emulating all the most popular styles from there. Obi had long, delicate, golden locks she wore in immaculate ringlets of the Dalicites. Her nails were always freshly manicured and painted like a Nedalian. Today they were apple red with yellow tips. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in Aldashi style liner, the wings conservative like she’d done them herself and was intimidated by them. They weren’t nearly as long or elegant as Tassa’s. Even her clothes were western Alliance with a high hem on her skirt over a pair of lace tights and a bodice that showed off her flat, golden, stomach and pushed her breasts together while keeping her shoulders bare. For the aesthetics she was lovely. Under that gilded facade she was a miasma of stupidity and temper made of methane that just needed the slightest spark to erupt in either spouting off something so ignorant it actually gave you pause, or she’d turn you inside out with a temper tantrum.

"Spayar," she said his name like he was a piece of shit on her shoe, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you from hurting an innocent man," Spayar said calmly, standing up again. He didn't avert his eyes when he spoke to Obi either, he didn't know how to anymore. Von demanded that Spayar looked at him on level when they spoke and he did it out of habit to all people of standing.

Obi looked down and sneered at Jill who swallowed. "If I want to it's my prerogative," she said and snapped Spayar's weave holding her leg like he knew she would. This time when Obi made to stomp on Jill Spayar uttered one word and Obi lost her footing and fell ass up on her back. There was a stunned silence in the courtyard. Here Spayar had to play carefully or he’d have a fire on his hands. He wasn’t a pyromacer either and Von want here.

"That man is under your mother's employ and thus under the protection of the Le'Acard," Spayar said, hands behind his back so no one could see how hard they were trembling. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of much but pissing off someone who could kill him effortlessly was one of them. Von wasn't around to protect him from his sister like sometimes. It was one thing to kill your brother’s best friend when he was alone, it was quite another to do it in front of him. Especially a d’aelar. Normally that would make him immune from most attacks by the Le’Acard. Not from Obi. Obi didn’t care. When she was angry or insulted and not handled carefully she’d take on anyone.

Obi stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd really just done that. He'd just humiliated her in front of a bunch of stable hands. "What are you looking at?" she snarled at Jill who was also staring, slightly slack jawed.

"Nothing, your highness," he looked away quickly

She got to her feet and marched over to Spayar. Obi was shorter than him, but it didn't matter, she was like fire. Literally she was fire and was a pyromacer like her brother Von. For a second Spayar thought the tips of her coiled hair sparked and became flame. Not unheard of for a powerful pyromacer. "You would do such a thing?" she hissed.

Spayar kept very calm. Obi won when you talked back, when you got angry. He'd seen enough of her fighting with Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin to know how she was, what she did, and how temperamental she was. When Obi started to smolder if you struck back in anger like she did she’d just ignite and you’d lose. It was something that happened often enough and only staying perfectly calm in the face of her wrath would see her be handled out of that spark of rage. “I would," he said. 

"I am a Le'Acard, you would lay a hand on me?" she demanded, fire in her eyes, her breath as hot as a forge on his face.

"I did no such thing-

"You still-

"I simply stopped you from making a mistake," he just talked right over her. The only way for Obi to hear you was to just talk over her.

"Me? A mistake?" she laughed.

"So you would rather me tell the stable master you beat one of his best stable boys and then he would tell your mother?" Spayar asked her curiously.

Obi froze. She hadn't thought of that. Of course she hadn't. Obi was an idiot of the first degree. Of Von's siblings she was the least he was worried about because Obi didn't have the patience or brain power to plan a coup, let alone the temperament to see it through to completion. She might know Tallalsala was meeting with the Clan and Teldin had the White Foot and Wren-Kal in his pocket, but that meant nothing to Obi. It was like telling her there was a particular bad thunderstorm outside. It would pass, as it always did. "My mother?" she asked and it was like Spayar had dropped a block of ice on white hot iron.

"Yes," Spayar said, "Asuras Virilia takes great pride in the horses her stable breeds, and thus those who work there. You wouldn't want her to know you were abusing them would you?" Spayar was talking out of his ass of course. Obi was too dumb to know differently. She believed everything people told her. A temper with gullibility did not make a good match and was how you threw sand over the tinder of her temper. He looked at the carriage, "Didn't you have somewhere to be, my lady?" he asked her rather innocently, switching topics and confusing her by now being worried for her well being and her time table.

"I do," she said slowly, unsure what he was doing or how to react appropriately since just a moment ago she’d been ready to burn him alive.

"I would hate for you to be late," there was a driver already sitting in the seat up front, staring at Spayar like he was crazy. "Since I'm sure it's terribly important if you need to go."

"It is," she said and pursed her lips at him. She hadn't even realized what he was doing. How did Von have a sibling like Obi?

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he moved his fingers and the carriage door opened, beckoning Obi.

"This idiot-

"Had the best intentions your highness. You really shouldn't worry about such trvilalries," and already Obi had gone from being mad at him for humiliating her to complacent and ready to do what he said. If you didn’t set her off Obi was actually very easy to deal with. It was just she was easily set off. You just had to use a certain tone with her and she cooled down and did what you said once you showed her that yes; you were the boss here, not her. Honestly she was a bit like a horse. If the rumors were true she was ridden about as much as the common use horses in the stables too. "Driver," he called, "where are you going?"

"We're going to Mirin, my lord," the driver said. The capital of Kou. That made Spayar slightly uneasy. A million possibilities ran through his head about why Obi would be going to the capital of Kou. She had to have a handler, behind the scenes, trying to put her on the throne. If only so she’d be a figurehead.

"That's a long way," Spayar said, “Who are you going to see?”

“The Lady Lenni,” she said. Spayar wracked his brain. Who was the Lady Lenni?

“Well if you don’t leave soon it’ll be too late in the day to make any way down the Westernlance. You wouldn’t want to put off seeing her another day would you?”

“No,” Obi said adamantly.

“Then we should get you on your way,” he said, barely even in the moment with Obi. He was thinking of who the Lady Lenni was. He helped her into the carriage and Spayar closed the door with a pleasant smile. He waved to the driver once he stepped back and the driver, who finally had to look away from his stupefied amazement at Spayar, flicked the reins to put the horses into a trot. Obi would be out of the city before she realized Spayar had manipulated her and she’d told him where she was going and who she was seeing.

"That was amazing," Jill said from the ground. "How'd you do that?"

"I have a lot of practice dealing with Le'Acard," Spayar offered Jill his hand. Jill took it and Spayar hauled him to his feet. Jill wasn't  really wounded, but he was a bit battered. "Go to the palace healer, get healed up, if they throw a fuss say I sent you."

"You're right amazing Spayar," Jill said.

Spayar just shrugged, "Go on, me and Duren are for home."

"Right right," Jill said, and dusted himself off a bit. "Thanks," he said again, grinning his gap toothed grin at Spayar. Spayar went back to find his brother, "What you lot standing around for?" Jill cried at the other stable hands, "You gots stuff to do, so go do it!" and they scattered.

Duren was standing with his mare and another man that made Spayar stop dead, the warm feeling of victory over Obi leeching away instantly. 

Teldin was holding onto Spayar's horse’s reins and standing next to Duren like it was the most natural thing he could do. "Your highness," he bowed to Teldin much lower than he had for Obi. Unlike her Teldin actually garnered real respect. 

As with the rest of the past few generations of Le’Acard Teldin was fair and blonde, his hair in last decade’s style of long and slicked back. Unlike some of his siblings his skin was the color of flour and his eyes were such a brown they were practically black. He had mean eyes like an owl's and a long, proud looking face. He was well built and filled his autumn coat well. This was the man who threatened Von's life, and thus Spayar's own life; the oldest son of the Asuras.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Spayar asked, straightening. As he did he noticed that twined around Teldin’s neck was a long, leaf green, snake with eyes too smart to be an animal. A shapeshifter. Spayar knew who it was instantly and it put him on more edge than he already was with Teldin’s appearance. Sade was a powerful warlock and shifter and practically Teldin’s second in command. She was practically another Spayar. Why would she be here with Teldin now?

"That was very impressive," Teldin said, he had the voice of a singer, the type you could listen to forever. "Not many people can so expertly manipulate Obi out of a rage," he said it thoughtfully but also like he didn’t actually care.

"You're too kind, your highness," Spayar said.

"Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Vondugard, your highness?"

"Who else would I ask you about?" though they both knew realistically Spayar probably knew the whereabouts of all the Le'Acard children despite only having been in Assarus a few days since his trip to the gut.

"I don't know. I just came home from serving time a few days ago. He wasn't here when I arrived,” he lied.

Teldin put a mean stare onto Spayar but he didn't flinch, didn't move a single inch. "You're a good d'alaer," Teldin said and cocked his head at Spayar in a very predatory fashion. "But you're wasted on my brother." Teldin knew Spayar was lying. He knew and knew Spayar knew he knew but pushing Spayar to answer would get him no where nor would it actually help him. He was just testing Spayar, like he always did, to see what he could get out of him.

"Your brother takes very good care of me," Spayar swallowed. This wasn't the first time Teldin had approached Spayar about changing his alliances. Teldin and Tallalsala had both done it, since they were the two better players on the field. They knew what it meant that Von had a d'alaer and they didn't. Sinou had had a famous d'alaer who helped him conquer the first realms of the Alliance. It was the opinion of most of the Alliance and especially the Le'Acard that Asuras who had a d'alaer on their sides were more competent rulers, better  in every way. That they could instill such zealous devotion in someone meant they knew what they were doing. Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin all hated Von in equal measure they were jealous of him because he had Spayar; his d'alaer.

Spayar was the d'aelar of this generation, the first one since since the early eighteen hundreds. His kind weren’t common and there was only ever one at a time. If there were more they’d constantly be compared until one was proclaimed the true d'aelar in the style of the d'aelar of old. The only way to get the benefit of a d'aelar now was to either kill Spayar and get your own or convince him that it was in his best interest to side with them. He’d been on the end of enough threats to himself and his family and promises of the world, stars and everything in between to know that it was serious for the Le’Acard. They knew the importance of his title, what it meant for them and the nobles, commoners and soldiers of the Alliance in the coming Conflict. The greatest Asuri had d’aelar. They wanted one too. Unfortunately there was only one Spayar.

"I would do better," Teldin said, "whatever he does for you I can do better.” Not the first promise Teldin had ever given him. “Or whatever he doesn’t do for you,” and Spayar did his best not to just grab his brother and bolt. It sounded like he was being courted and not asked to betray his best friend. Knowing Teldin there was all sorts of meaning behind those words and promises he’d follow up on to get the advantage over his siblings. Spayar did his best to not think about Von like that, let alone his viper of a brother.

"I'm not interested," Spayar said instead, once again putting his hands behind his back so Teldin wouldn’t see how they trembled. He just wanted Teldin to leave him alone. "I am Vondugard's d’aelar. His d'aelar I shall stay. As I’ve said before, I want nothing from you, Teldin,” he said. Sade’s body extended out towards Spayar a bit and the human eyes in a snake’s head were reproachful.

Teldin frowned, “You’re sure? Now’s the time to pick sides, d’aelar. Do you really want to be one of those who visits a temple of Lemp?” All the hair stood up on Spayar’s body. Most of the time just the presence of a d'aelar by a Le’Acard’s side was enough to rally most of the nation to them and they’d come through and sit on the throne. But sometimes, it wasn’t. The crown heir in question was killed. D’aelar knew they wouldn’t be spared after a Conflict’s close like their donalim. The only way out was to leave the Alliance and never return, leaving behind everything and one you’d ever known, or kill yourself. Since suicide was against their religion and the will of Lemp necromancers would assist people in their suicides. The d'aelar who went to temples of Lemp were a select few, and they all did so out of shame and grief when their best friends, or - in one case - their lover, had lost the Conflict.

“Careful,” Spayar said slowly, to not betray the hard beating of his heart. “Your dread is showing, your highness,” he said and bowed a little. Sade flicked her tongue at Spayar hatefully and he wondered what the hell had just gotten into him to say that to Teldin’s face. The prince wasn’t the least bit amused.

Teldin dropped his mare's lead and walked away without goodbye. Spayar's heart was all the way up in his throat as he walked away. He lurched forward, grabbed his horse’s lead and his brother’s hand and dragged them away.

"Spayar-

"Later," and Spayar said and stopped long enough to help Duren onto his horse. He scrambled up after his brother.

"But who was that-

"Duren," Spayar said sharply and kicked his mare into a canter to get away from the stables. “Not. Now.” He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see Teldin. Thankfully Duren didn’t ask any more questions and Spayar could focus on putting as much distance between them and the Palace as humanely possible. It was of course this time, when Spayar felt the stress of Teldin and the Conflict on his shoulders, that he remembered that Lady Lenni was the name of a the High Priestess of Belladha, goddess of wisdom. What a stupid thing he’d think of now and what a pointless person Obi was going to see. Spayar didn’t know if he was more annoyed with himself for knowing who Lenni even was, or for thinking about that instead of the fact that Teldin had just promised him if he didn’t join him that he’d make sure Spayar visited a temple of Lemp.

He really hated the royals.