#a few months ago i saw one being escorted back after a failed escape attempt

[bookwormstarwarsfan]

Randomly remembering the lockdown, when I was peacefully chopping sticks in front of the house, and out of the blue, three baby sheeps ran down the road. Too stunned to even start to think about who to call, I just stood there for a minute, then went back to chopping, but a manager woman in killer pumps run up to me asking if I saw three baby sheeps. They already caught one, her colleague is soon following her with a car. I showed her the way they went and she ran away.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi again! I come to you today with a question that may simply be a continuity error, but I'm still interested in your thoughts! In the main story, le Comte *knows* it was MC that came through the door behind him. Yet in Comte's "One Night, Beneath the Crescent Moon" POV story, he said he "...had no idea of what would happen next... That she would end up using the same door and end up stuck on the other side." What's your take on it? Thanks in advance! 💛

Hiya! First off I wanna apologize for how long it took to reply oTL I had originally drafted a response and then lost it when I accidentally closed the tab, and whenever that happens I always have to like sufficiently mourn the words I lost 😂😂😂

But to answer your question! If I’m entirely honest, I can’t remember what it was Comte said exactly in the Main Story in regards to her entering the door. There could be a lot of explanations for him saying he “knew”: continuity error, him wanting to put her at ease by seeming “in control” of the situation (while he’s screaming internally), or maybe even him wanting to cast some doubt as to whether or not he’s a person that can be trusted (aka the whole like “MC nooooooo don’t trust me I’m a vampire very bad very scary run away” kind of like Leonardo). 

All that being said, given the evidence we have and the stories I’ve read from his POV--esp that Crescent Moon one you referenced--I’m most inclined to believe that he had no idea she would follow him that day at the Louvre. If anything I really don’t think he ever anticipated any human person could follow him through the door? Because remember Sebastian (and the suitors for that matter) only manage because Comte is their escort. Sure their will to live on was strong enough that he could hear them, but they had no capacity to approach or find a door on their own as far as we currently know. The door was closed when MC found it; this suggests that Comte fully closed off that avenue to make sure nobody wayward stepped in by accident. He did the responsible thing and he left long before he could ascertain her safe journey through time, but she still managed to make it across somehow.

That’s why I think MC’s mere existence is earth-shattering to Comte. I mean we have all the good basics: a lovely lady, sweet and hard-working, means well and does her best. And these attributes all do matter, for sure. But the door is perhaps a greater catalyst in their romance than we might have first anticipated.

There will be some semi-hefty JPN rt spoilers below the cut for Dazai and Comte, so I’m just going to keep it under wraps just in case there are people who want to remained 100% unspoiled:

TW: Mentions of suicide in Dazai’s rt

The reason I say this is twofold, based on information provided by Dazai and Comte’s Main Story route. In Dazai’s route, remember that the focal point of the story is that Dazai wants to go back in time to kill himself as a baby so that he can never grow up to write his books or cause anyone pain in the near future--essentially, suicidal ideation to a frightening extreme. One of the main reasons that he fails (though MC plays a significant role in stopping him, too) is that Dazai’s will to kill himself is too weak. In simpler terms, this means that--no matter how much he insisted he wanted to die, the truth of his heart was revealed in his constant hesitating and difficulty going through with it. This is very often a reaction from people who need sizable psychological assistance to overcome trauma; they don’t usually want to die, it’s more that the pain of surviving their experiences is outweighing any possible joy they can find in living. 

But back to the most important part in bold. When Dazai asks about being able to use the door to travel through time, Charles confirms that it’s possible to travel without a pureblood escort. HOWEVER. This type of travel is very, very difficult unless you have an intense sense of willpower. I imagine the implication here is that you have to have an overwhelming desire and firmly believe it’s where you want to be in order for the travel attempt to succeed at all. (I don’t think the tethering point necessarily matters, but there is a suggestion that strong bonds between people--whether platonic or romantic--can serve as powerful guideposts when the door is distorted.) In other words, the reason Dazai relies on Charles’ moral bankruptcy is because Dazai knows he doesn’t feel strongly enough to go through with the suicide. He needs someone else who has the sheer determination and unbending will to see it through when the door opens. 

This is why Dazai is forced to ask Charles to accompany him, even though Charles doesn’t necessarily want to kill him. For Charles, this is less about a desperation to kill Dazai and more about his intense obsession-love for MC, and his willingness to do anything to receive her love/attention in return. In Charles’ view, since MC is ostensibly in love with Dazai, removing Dazai from the picture permanently is ideal. While Charles’ judgement is clouded and a little horrific, he is nonetheless rock steady in comparison to Dazai’s nonstop wavering. Dazai knows that he’s fickle on a personal level; one moment he wants to die, another he’s too afraid to let go of what he does care about or upset anyone. He’s at a point where he doesn’t know what’s right or true anymore and he’s floundering, which is honestly fairly common among those who share his lamentable condition. (Most people don’t have a death wish--it’s more a combination of circumstantial problems and healing that has remained in stasis that constitutes the extremity of that behavior.)

Moving right along, Comte’s route also features a similar testament to willpower, believe it or not. This happens in the last few chapters of the main story. Basically, Shakespeare dumps MC on Vlad’s doorstep and she’s more or less suffering the latter’s monologuing for a good while. Not long after that Comte appears and nearly shoots Vlad in the head, the bullet just grazing his cheek. Comte demands that he let MC go, and Vlad--in a classic sadistic act of compliance--wrenches open the door and just tosses MC into the freefall of distorted spacetime.

Now this is dangerous to MC’s life in and of itself, but there’s a key element there: distorted spacetime. In this main story the door never returns to its normal state after that first month period. Rather, the expanse of the door is too dangerous to be traveled even by a pureblood, let alone a human being. The chances MC will ever be able to escape in order to survive are closer to zero than any other number. Remember that Comte is immortal. If he gets stuck on his own, he can’t die and the damage to his body is always more than able to heal when he’s back to safety. (He even warns Leonardo in Leo’s MS that the danger of getting stuck in some kind of pocket in spacetime is still too significant to be ignored, though I can’t be sure if that’s due to Leonardo’s inexperience with time travel/requirement for an escort, or just an inevitable risk you juggle anytime you travel through the door.)

Of course Comte leaps in after her to try to save her, but presumably their entry point is long gone now (Vlad shut the door), so they’re just kind of floating in amorphous time. They do and don’t exist. Comte is understandably distraught because MC’s life hangs in the balance; if they don’t find a way out, she is almost certainly going to die. Comte admits that--while he hates the fact that his very existence is a danger to her, he still doesn’t regret finding her by any extension. MC protests, naturally, that there’s nothing to regret. Circumstances be what they may, she loves him. 

Now, here is the key. While Comte is trying to think of a way out, MC is thinking hard about wanting to return to the mansion. Her mind reflects an acute, intense desire to return home to the place where they both belong. And wouldn’t you know it? They both suddenly tumble out of the door in the mansion and onto the carpeted floor, whole and alive, sputtering in disbelief. Comte is baffled at first but it can only give way to immense relief that she’s safe, and he just immediately breaks down.

The only reason the two make it out unscathed is because of--I can only assume--MC’s overwhelming will to live on with Comte and return to the mansion. While it would have been natural for her to be overcome by fear to the point where she could make no productive decision, or even humor the concept of focusing on their home, she does it all the same with immediate success. That’s also part of why I think Comte just 100% caves into both of their feelings in the next chapter. He saw firsthand that, not only does MC keep a level head under duress, but she also has the overpowering will necessary to survive amongst vampires. And it was perhaps this unshakeable will in the first place that landed her in the late 19th century all those weeks ago.

It’s interesting because, honestly? Her entry through the door is more or less a hinge point for their romance. While it obviously isn’t the only reason he cares about her, it definitely is one of the bigger reasons he even feels safe enough to court her in earnest in the aftermath. It is literally only after this event that he confesses everything. Why he created the mansion and the men. How he’s really felt about her and himself all this time. What Vlad showed her and the implications of Vlad’s existence. And finally the truth about what he wants. He wants a relationship with her, but he keeps being held back by the fear that he’s too much. That the demand of being by his side will outweigh any happiness she might find choosing him. (Granted MC and I find that preposterous given how attentive and considerate he is, but you know). But after seeing her pull off surviving Vlad and traveling through the door by her own willpower again? I think it sufficiently lessens his doubts as to whether she could handle a future with him. It gives him the courage to just ask her: Do you want a future with me? Can you handle the demands of a vampire that cannot accept a mere human lifetime to be in love? 

And so this is why I have unceasing Comte brainworms ladies and gentlethem. I need to go lie down before I start crying again, I love him oTL

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Hi! I feel like we were robbed of a reunion between Aelin and Nox in KoA so could you write it, please?

Sorry for the delay, nonnie! Hope you'll like this! 💖

cinders : chapter one

post-koa rowaelin fanfic • fic masterlist • full masterlist

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Honor among thieves, Aelin remembered the phrase with wry amusement as she was kicked out of her seventh tavern that night. Thief or not, she had no qualms about her honor or the lack thereof, not when she was drunk out of her mind with not a copper in her pocket to spend.

All night, she'd cheated at cards, started four brawls and failed to pay for the ale she consumed at most establishments she'd graced with her presence. Come dawn, there would be no tavern left that she hadn't been banned from. Idly, she wondered what would happen if the barkeep found out he was kicking out adarlan's assassin—or the queen of terrasen, for that matter. He probably won't believe her, considering she looked worse than an average drunkard roaming the streets of orynth in middle of the night with a swollen eye and a busted lip. Her wrist hurt from where she'd fallen down and landed on it during one of the aforementioned brawls but she paid it no heed, already looking for another place she could waste her night away in.

Aelin steadied herself with the support of a nearby wall, head spinning and her knees buckled.

She pressed her cheek against the cool surface of the cemented wall, wondering how long she had before someone in her court would notice her absence and drag her back to the palace like she was an invalid in need of protection instead of mala's heir and the queen of one of the most prosperous kingdoms since the rebuilding finished months ago.

The scrape of boots behind her made her turn, hands already positioned in easy reach of the daggers hidden beneath her cloak.

"So this is how our queen passes her time now?" a familiar voice drawled out behind her, amusement in his tone.

That voice—her head spun as she tried to place it. Aelin turned towards him, the movement too fast for her inebriated state and nausea rose in her stomach. She squinted her eyes at the figure standing a few steps away, his own hood covering a better part of his face. The figure looked tall and lean, dressed like one of the common folk. Maybe she could outmaneuver him—

He threw his hood back and her heart stumbled. "Nox?" her voice was slurred, wonder and disbelief warring within her.

"You caught me," he said, voice filled with amusement. "When I imagined us meeting again, this is not what I had in mind."

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "You say that as if it was a sure thing we'd meet again."

"I had to. Do you know how awful it is to claim friendship with the saviour of Erilea and have them dismiss your words as a lie?" Nox said, sketching a mocking bow.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Her lips twitched up in amusement as she said, "I apologise for the inconvenience my popularity may have caused you."

Her head still spun, and she cautiously took a step forward, the moonlight illuminating her old friend's face completely. He looked just like she remembered, moderately handsome with those dark hair framing his face and a lean figure. He grinned, though there was something subdued about it now—some weight that hadn't been there before, no doubt a product of the war they'd all been a part of. When he said nothing, she added: "Lysandra told me she met you," Aelin said. "I tried to find you, after the war—but you'd vanished."

His grin widened into a wolfish one—too reminiscent of her beloved cousin's, "I helped drug the lords of terrasen—Lord Darrow would've sent me to the gallows." He stepped forward to provide support when she almost tripped over her own two feet.

Aelin let him wrap his arms around her, leaning into him. God, she'd missed the former thief and his troublesome grin, the friendship he'd offered her in a competition filled with enemies and a palace teeming with insincere people, the lighthearted air he carried with him.

"Lord Darrow needs to remove that stick shoved far up his ass," she said when she'd steadied herself again somewhat. "I tried to find you."

"I know. Thank you—for saving my life." Nox squeezed her shoulder gratefully. "You didn't have to warn me, you could've just let me stay but you didn't."

He pulled away when he smelled the ale on her breath and frowned. "You shouldn't be out here alone. I think we should take you home." Her stomach sank at the thought of the towering palace, images flashing inside her head one after another—a kitchen, low voices, blood on the bed, the healer's face, a figure clutching her abdomen in pain. Home. Home shouldn't be a place she'd be afraid of.

Her stomach churned at the thought of having to return. Aelin frowned. "I don't want to go back."

"I think you should," he said. "I saw two search parties roaming tonight."

She didn't dare look at his face, lest she might snap at him. He was yet another person who was so interested in telling her how to act. She wasn't an immature who needed instructions from others. "Fine, I should go," she conceded. "You could come with me, you know—there are a lot of open jobs around the palace—"

"I think I will," he nodded. "I don't think you should be out here alone, whatever prompted you to come here."

He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. When none came, he shrugged but the offer hung in the silence between them until she answered, "It's not so simple." Then needing to change the topic of the conversation, asked, "Where have you been—back to the same former profession?" The world spun a little, and her vision grew blurrier. Her voice sounded like a garbled mess, even to her own ears. It was a wonder Nox could make sense of her words.

"And if I did? Not all of us are secret heirs to enslaved kingdoms with kick-ass powers," he grinned.

Aelin tried to answer him but her mouth wouldn't open, her eyelids felt so heavy, half drooped and her legs gave out beneath her. Nox, as if he hadn't noticed the real extent of her inebriated state before, shifted her so she was leaning on him for support but it was a struggle to keep her upright. The palace of Orynth was only streets away now when someone—one of the guards, perhaps?—shouted something, though she couldn't make out the words.

She looked up from her half-asleep state minutes later to the sound of a familar pattern of footsteps.

Nox stiffened, two daggers identical to the ones they'd practiced with in Rifthold sometimes in his hands.

"Relax," she told him, though the words were so slurred, she couldn't be sure he understood. "Lorcan is one of the bloodsworn of my court."

Said bloodsword had his own sword out, looking furious, if not somewhat tired, though the determination shone on his face—he looked like a man on a mission. He walked towards them, movements rigid as ever, every muscle in his body tensed. Nox sheathed his daggers, though he positioned himself in front of her. Aelin rolled her eyes, wondering why everyone she befriended acted had to be a protective bastard?

"Step away from her," said Lorcan through gritted teeth.

The thief of Perranth did no such thing and she barely refrained from another eye roll. Stubborn, overprotective mother hens. "Really, Lorcan, this is one of my friends. You can put your sword away; no one is about to murder me here, I think." Her bloodsworn didn't look so amused at her attempt at humor and this time, she didn't supress her eyeroll.

If Fenrys were here, he'd have teased Lorcan for being the overbearing mother hen Elide claimed he was. Lord Lorcan Lochan—the name was a constant source of amusement for her—may not like her, but he was loyal to his queen and diligent in his duties.

And Fenrys wasn't here—seperated from her for the first time since the two of them had escaped Doranelle months ago—he was looking over the preparation of the last few details of the peace treaties in Rifthold and helping Dorian settle into his position, assisting in the rebuilding efforts there. Elide and Lysandra were at their own estates, looking over their own territories. Her cousin had accompanied Lysandra to Carraverre with a promise to return as soon as she had a routine in place. And Rowan was the farthest—in a different continent, in the city which had caused her so much pain and suffering, Aelin was still haunted by it's memories.

So it was that Aelin was left to spend time with the least favourite member of her court—Lorcan.

She wondered when her mate would be back, wondered what he'd say if he'd found her here tonight instead, wondered if she could hide what she'd heard from him—how he'd react if he found out. He won't leave her, not him. He'd tell her servants' gossip was nothing to be worried about, he'd comfort her the best he could. But over the years, he'd realise how right they were and he wouldn't say a word of his disappointment—no, he loved her too much to hurt her like that. He'd come to resent her for it though, and then immortality won't seem like the blessing it does now.

Aelin's thoughts were steered away from the dark direction by Lorcan's words. "Been dallying with the commonfolk, have you?"

"Don't be an ass," she snapped at the implication. "He's a friend from Rifthold. I won't hurt my mate like that."

Lorcan had the good sense to look apologetic as he rubbed at his face. "I know you won't—I didn't mean to say it." It was as good an apology as she'd ever receive from him.

Poor Nox had turned pale at the sight of a tall, brooding fae but he said with all the nonchalance he could muster, he said, "I saw her outside one of the taverns I frequented and I recognized her. I offered to escort her back."

Lorcan extended his hand, and the scowl on his face made her decide she'd be better off not pissing him off more. He scanned her head to toe, jaw clenching at the sight of the bruises on her face. "You're hurt," he didn't wait for a confirmation. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, "Right now, you'll come with me to the palace, you'll go to your room and you will sleep, like you should've been doing. Tomorrow, we'll talk about this."

His features were schooled into a cool mask of indifference. She almost snapped at being ordered to bed like a child but the concern in his voice made her reconsider her words. Still, she couldn't help it when the words escaped. "I'm not some petulant child," she said in quiet voice.

"You're certainly acting like one now," then his features softened a little. "Let's go home."

Neither said a word until Lorcan had escorted her into her chambers. At her behest, Nox was given a guest room to stay in (much to Lorcan's displeasure) while one of the healers from the royal wing tended to her. She wondered if it was this woman she'd heard talking with the cook, or if she'd even heard anyone at all. Maybe it was all some horrible nightmare she'd dreamed up? She wished it had been some nightmare—or if not, then at least that she hadn't heard the words at all and lived in blissful ignorance for however long she could.

He turned to leave and Aelin started, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have—"

He snapped. "Tomorrow. We'll talk about this tomorrow. This—" he pointed towards the bruises—"is nothing to what could've happened if someone had recognised you. You have no idea what you risked!"

"I know what I risked and what could've happened," she bit back. "This isn't the first time I've wasted my night away in tavern after tavern." Her head hammered with pain at the volume of their words but she paid it no heed in her fury. He had no right to call her out; she didn't need his permission or someone else's. What did he care if come dawn, she was found dead in a ditch somewhere? He would be able to live with Elide and still be free of the blood oath. It could be no loss to him. "I'm under no obligation to answer to you," she said.

"I'm a part of your court. If you put yourself in danger, you will answer me," he said.

"I was in danger long before I took the throne. I can handle myself."

Lorcan had either noticed how drained she felt and decided to postpone the conversation or he saw no benefit in arguing with an unreasonable drunkard further because he nodded with a terse nod and an omnious: "We're not done here," and left her room, closing the door behind him softly. She wished he'd slammed the door shut instead, yelled at her or left her on the steps of the palace to the care of some maid—almost wished he'd drawn out his sword on her instead of leaving her alone to the silence of her chambers.

Involuntarily, she recalled the sudden, sharp pains in her abdomen last week. Her cycles had been a little irregular since the war but she hadn't given it much thought until she'd stumbled upon the two gossiping servants—those cursed words she wished she'd never heard. She had come back and tried to sleep, tried to discredit the rumours as speculation but those words had haunted her until she'd escaped her room for fresh air and found herself in a cheap tavern. Those horrible visions had flashed in front of her eyes until she was too intoxicated to remember her own name. Sleep offered no solace at all, and everytime she shut her eyes, she saw a stillborn child, a bed covered in blood, an empty cradle and she'd woken up covered in sweat and her breathing harsh, heart beating wildly against her ribcage.

The bruises on her face turned darker by the morning, but the salve she applied brought her some relief from the pain. Aelin left her chambers only when necessity called for it, the bruises cleverly hidden under her golden curls arranged tactically. The third meeting with the lords of all great houses was dreadfully boring. Lorcan's piercing gaze and Darrow's inquisitive look when she didn't greet them with her usual aplomb did nothing to ease her anticipation for her confrontation. He made no allusion to it as she attended to her duties, though she wasn't naive enough to hope he'd forget. Thus, it was with no surprise that she welcomed him into the sitting room of her private chambers that afternoon when she retreated for a small break. Indeed, he looked comically out of place in the ornate, colourful chamber with his black tunic he wore.

Lorcan's dark eyes upbraided her bruises, then satisfied with the healing progress, sat down and fell into silence. She didn't dare break it—he wanted to have this conversation. She was determined not to give up.

"We need to talk," he said when he realised she won't initiate the conversation.

"We do," she agreed to his surprise, until she added: "How is Nox?"

"Nox? Made drinking buddies with the thief, did you?" he asked. His lips curled in disdain—at her actions or her choice in friends, she couldn't tell.

"Dark hair, pretty face, smiles too much?" she asked. "I'd like you to find him a job 'round here. He has skills we could use, and I'd like to have more friendly companions here."

He looked tempted to retort, but stopped in time to recognise her attempt at distracting him. "I'll see to it. Now, will you tell me why you thought sneaking out of the palace, disappearing for hours and then showing up drunk and half passed-out, with a known local thief, bruised and battered was a good idea?" It didn't sound like a good idea when he said it like that, but she hadn't planned most of it, had she? Finding Nox had been a coincidence, and she hadn't foreseen running out of coins, getting kicked out of taverns or starting those brawls.

"I survived for years in much unsavory conditions than this," said she. "I don't need you to be an overprotective mother hen to me."

He arched an eyebrow. "So you want to be difficult about this?" he leaned back in his seat and relaxed his muscles, "I know you didn't just leave because you wanted to get drunk. Something happened, and you can choose to tell me now, or we can wait here until you confess. I have infinite patience and nothing better to do." She was tempted to walk away from this conversation, little good though it would do her. He pressed, "I'll wait for your answer right here, Aelin. If you want to—that is, if you think it'll help, I'll listen." And he looked so awkward, so uncomfortable, had Aelin looked up at him then, she would have been amused to see one of the most powerful fae warriors squirm in his seat, looking alarmed at whatever it was he saw in her face.

"I'm sorry! I told you I am," she asserted. "I wish you'd leave me alone."

Lorcan didn't think she was apologising for sneaking out without telling him—hell, it seemed like she wasn't apologising to him at all. He didn't know what she meant. Maybe she didn't know either.

He awkwardly patted her arm in an effort to comfort her, though he failed miserably. He hadn't seen that haunted look in her eyes since that first month after she'd escaped that iron coffin. It had taken months of careful manuevering from Rowan to coax that light back into her eyes. He wondered what haunted her now, what bothered her so. How long would it take for her to recover should she break again—this woman who had accomplished the very impossible, turned the tide in many a war, who had defeated armies through sheer will alone? How many times could she break before it would be impossible to put her back together? He wished Rowan were here to console her—or even Fenrys or Aedion. They won't do such a lousy job at it and she certainly won't confide in him. He shouldn't have thought otherwise—

"Pardon me for the interruption, Your Majesty, Your Lordship," the maid said, "but you have visitors."

Lorcan was disinclined to allow Aelin to present herself to company now when she looked one word away from shattering but he knew better than to try to stop her. The wilful woman hardly ever listened to him though, and she was walking out of her chambers before he'd even risen from his seat. He grumbled under his breath, following after her until a sharp squeal erupted from her mouth.

Lorcan was running towards the throne room, already drawing out his sword. It was pure relief that greeted him when his eyes fell on the grinning visitor, his sharp canines gleaming under the sunlight filtering inside through the windows. He nodded in acknowledgement towards the fae warrior and he returned with a look of his own before a noisy storm of gold and green flew past him and slammed into the still awaiting arms of the warrior. A lesser male might have fallen from the force of the collision, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, as unwilling to leave her as she was.

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," Lorcan said wryly as the squeals of delight from his queen grew louder.

King-consort Rowan Whitethorn swept his mate into his arms. "Missed me so much, did you?" he chuckled.

"Understatement," she mumbled into his chest, pulling herself closer. "Tomorrow, I'll pass a decree that you're not allowed to leave me behind ever again."

Rowan mumbled promises to not go anywhere without her anytime soon. Without a care for everyone else in the room, his lips pressed hers with an incessant need, though he drew back when she winced. It was with no small amount of horror that Rowan looked at her, reallylooked at her, memorising every line on her face, the width of her grin and the delight suffused in her brilliant ashryver eyes and stopped short at the busted lip and the bruise around her eye, brushing it with a featherlight touch of his fingers.

Aelin stiffened, and he saw in her expression that she hadn't planned to inform about this misadventure of hers, whatever it was.

He shut his eyes, attempting to regain some measure of composure. "Explain," he demanded, a lethal calm seeping into his voice.

Rowan didn't miss the way his wife stiffened further at his voice, and he noticed her eyes. The emptiness in them was almost too much to bear, too painful a reminder of what she'd endured the previous year and he looked away, though his voice softened.

"Fireheart, what happened? Tell me," he urged in the softest tone he could manage, "Please?"

It was the last word he spoke—the one filled with so much concern, love and devotion that she failed to keep her tears at bay. It was a valiant attempt she made, to blink the traitorous evidence of her grief back into her eyes but then she looked at him again—her mate, her husband, her best friend.

She let Rowan pull her into another embrace; and then, Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius came undone in his arms.

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soooo new fic. hope y'all liked it!

tags: @little-crow-corvere @abookishfreak @louisleblancdiggory @courtofjurdan @queenofgreenbriar @clockworkgraystairs @julemmaes @mymultiversee @queen-of-glass @strangely-constructed-soul @mijaldraws @http-itsrebecca @aesthetics-11 @lord-douglas-the-third @flowersinvegas @aelinchocolatelover @faerie-queen-fireheart @sad-book-whore @hizqueen4life @the-gods-killer @booknerdproblems @annejulianneh111 @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @b00kworm @mysweetvillain @curlyredqueen06 @moondancer-204 @thesurielships @witchling-leonor @ladywitchling @amren-courtofdreams @ifinallygavein @jlinez @faequeenaelin @df3ndyr @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @superspiritfestival @xx-fiona-xx @stardelia @maastrash @miihlovesnoone @sanakapoor @maddymelv @rattlethestarsdarling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @morganofthewildfire

let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[hearteyesbowen]

just friends ☆ joshua bassett

you and joshua are just friends and nothing else. promise.

warnings: angsty, some swearing, some steamy writing, at this point assume anything i write may be long

part I , part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your eyes flutter open slowly, a bright yellow light blinding you as you wake up. You rub your dry eyes and smooth out your messy hair. The pounding in your head disturbs you as you clear your throat. You attempt to sit up on your bed until an a strong arm left at your hip prevents you from moving up any further. You look to your side and see a familiar hand, so you look back further and saw your best friend, Joshua. His curly brown hair covered more than half of his face, only showing his slightly open mouth. Soft snores escaped his lips as you watched his chest rise up and down slowly. You almost completely forgot you slept over at his house last night.

You laid back down and faced Josh, wanting to stare at his calming features. His arm tightened around your waist and brought you slightly closer. You felt your cheeks heat up. You did your best not to wake him as you moved your arm to snuggle into his warm body more. Your plan failed when you felt him softly shuffle above you and let out a low groan.

“Y/N?” Josh groaned lowly. His morning voice next to your ear gave you goosebumps.

“Josh?” You whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” He said as he removed his arm from your waist to rub his eyes. He moved his arms back to you and brought you back closer to him tightly. “Sorry about that, angel.”

“I’ve been awake for a bit.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Do I have to do anything today?”

You shook your head to say no.

“Do you want to go to the diner and get breakfast?” He asked sweetly, bringing your head back to look at you. You nodded and he let out a soft chuckle.

Josh arm slid off your waist. He sat up and stretched out his arm above him, letting the blanket covering his body fall off and revealed his toned stomach. You almost forgot that he went to sleep without a shirt on. You also forgot how much Josh likes to work out on his free days. He got up from the bed and went to his dresser. He noticed how you kept watching him grab clothes from his drawer.

“Are you going to keep falling in love with me or are you going to shower? Because if you don’t go now I’m going to take my sweet ass time.” He joked.

You jumped up from his cozy bed and threw the blanket at Josh, covering his body. You did a quick stretch of your body and saw Josh look you up and down. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” You strutted past him and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Yours and Josh’s friendship was odd. You’ve been friends ever since he moved to the house next to you five years ago. It started off as a normal friendship; You two would hang out all the time and even go on road trips once a month. Then about three years ago it shifted. You would always playfully flirt with each other, which confused all your friends and family. But neither of you saw it as flirting. You both somewhat understood what you were doing, but it never fully clicked as to how it actually seemed. Your parents would always tease you about him. You always went out to eat and see movies together, you would pretend to be dating if someone in public was making the other uncomfortable, and cuddling together or sleeping with each other became a norm. Either way, a relationship between you two would never work, you lived totally different lives.

Once Josh got hired to play the part of Ricky Bowen on High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, he definitely needed some help managing all of his time, and basically his life. You would offer to help him any time he needed you, so he made the best choice to hire you as his assistant. It didn’t change your friendship, it’s just that now you know his schedule and have the numbers to his manager and his publicist. This choice, however, sparked more talk between not only your family, but also his fans. If he were to post a picture with you, then his comments immediately flooded with either questions about your relationship or them “shipping” you two.

You never thought of Josh as your boyfriend. When other friends or family would ask you about him and as to whether or not you did like him, you always said no, it’s what you genuinely believed. Although thoughts of you developing feelings for him did cross your mind, you thought it was just a phase and you would get over it. And you did. The idea of ruining your friendship brought you fear, probably more than the idea of being in a relationship, which you absolutely despised.

After you both took a quick shower, you grabbed your keys from your purse and went back to Josh’s room. He was bent over, looking for something in his drawer. He turned around and instantly had a smug smile on his face as he found what he was looking for. He found the sweater he was searching for in his dresser worn on your body. It was his light beige sweatshirt that he would wear when he recorded a lot of his music. Coincidentally, it was the same one he would give you every time he saw you sad or crying, to which you grew a strong fondness for it.

“I don’t get why you like that sweater so much, it’s literally my most plain and boring one.” Josh laughed as he brought you into his side with his hand on your waist.

“I don’t know either.” You lied.

“Whatever, you always make my clothes look way better than me.” He complimented, wrapping his arms around your head and yours around his waist for a tight hug. He pulled away slightly to look down at you, your noses barely touching. “Are you ready to go out?”

➢➣ ➢➣

“Shut up, dickhead!”

Josh slammed his hands on the steering wheel of his car. His loud laugh burned into your ears with embarrassment and discomfort. He slammed his body on the back of his seat and clutched onto the sides of his stomach and the fabric of his sweatshirt. He snorted, trying to catch his breath.

“Y/N, you’re such an amazing girlfriend.” He joked

As to why Josh was now stuck in a fit of laughter was all your fault. While at the diner, Josh received a phone call from his manager, which he of course had to take. You were both waiting on any news about the show as he was promised a special announcement from Disney. He was told to come to set tomorrow to film something, but he didn’t know what yet.

The moment he left, the waitress that escorted you to your seats had come to take your orders. You told her what you wanted, and she asked about Josh, referring to him as your boyfriend. Without even thinking of what she said, you continued to tell her what you knew Josh would have wanted, which led her to believe he actually was your boyfriend. You still had not realized what happened until you were both finishing your food and the waitress came back with the check, mentioning you two as a couple. To not make it seem awkward, Josh played along ( and would not stop teasing you about it for the rest of breakfast ). So here you are now; Josh is still not able to breathe.

You shifted in your seat, “You can take me home now, Joshua.”

He wiped his teary eyes and calmed down from his fit of laughter. “Aww, I’ll stop now. I’m sorry for laughing so much.”

He placed his hand on your lower thigh and gently rubbed it. You eyed him and earned back a sincere smile. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, and placed your hand on top of his to give it a tight squeeze. He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, making you hide your flushed face. Josh noticed and let out a quiet chuckle before starting the car.

“I was writing something a few days ago. I don’t know if I should record it.” Josh spoke, glancing at you.

You sat up straight and excitedly looked at Josh, “Can I hear it?”

“It sucks, Y/N.”

“Please, Josh. Everything you write is so beautiful. You know I love all of your songs, literally all of them.” You squeezed Josh’s hand tighter that stayed on your thigh.

“Maybe when we get home. It’s not a lot, it’s basically four lines, so don’t get your hopes up.” He warned.

“I’ll love it no matter what.” You smiled.

➢➣ ➢➣

You followed Josh to the staircase of his house. He had promised to let you listen to his new song and record it if you “didn’t make a big deal out of it.” You sat two steps above Josh where you knew his phone camera wouldn’t get you in frame. He brought his ukelele out with him too, and he nervously fiddled with the strings.

“Don’t laugh, ok?” He mumbled, trying to sit on the step comfortably.

You shook your head and watched as he let out a deep breath. He scooted up to his phone and went to the camera, and hit the red record button.

“I wish you all the best,

cause lord knows you deserve it.

And it took me time to see,

but I understand,

the best just isn’t me.”

Josh finished playing the final chord and quickly stopped the video. He let out a large exhale and slowly faced you. You were in awe. You were always so greatful when he played his songs in front of you, especially because you were the first one to hear them. He was regularly writing love songs, and each time you thought for a second that he was thinking of you as he wrote it. You always convinced yourself that it was nothing or it was for someone else, but this song felt different.

“So?” He asked nervously.

“Josh,” You gasped out, “that was so beautiful.”

“Don’t lie, it sucked.”

You got up from your step and moved to sit next to him. He set his ukelele in the step above you two and faced his body towards you. You held his hands in yours and he squeezed them tightly.

“It’s an amazing song, Josh. If you put out all those songs you wrote you would understand how much of an amazing songwriter you are. You’re the best musician I know.”

Josh looked up at you and gave you a small smile. He scooted closer to you and held your waist. You stared at him for what seemed like forever. Josh darted between your eyes and your lips. Instinctively, you slowly inched towards him, and you felt him do the same. Your lips were so close that you felt your breath fan over each other. Your mind raced with various thoughts; Just do it, if you never take the chance you will regret it. But if you take that chance and it ruins everything, then you would lose Josh.

A part of you stopped and backed away, Josh following suit. He quickly removed his hands from your waist and you scooted a few inches away from him. You cleared your throat and got up from the stairs. You held your hand out for him to grab and he hesitantly took your offer. He stood taller than you and with your chests almost touching.

“You want to watch a movie?” Josh asked, picking up his instrument.

“Sounds great. I’ll get the snacks.” You offered. You walked down the steps, leaving Josh alone to think about what just happened.

You ran down the remainder of the stairs and tried to reach the kitchen without stumbling, but you nearly ran into one of the bookshelves and almost fell over the couch. Your whole body felt lighter. You reached the kitchen counter and rested against it. Your hands grazed through your hair and roughly massaged it. The headache you felt from the past five minutes overtook you. You don’t like Josh that way, so why did you want to kiss him so badly?

Shaking your headache aside, you opened one of the wooden cabinets above you. You found the large box of popcorn that Josh bought and tried your best to reach for one of the packages. Once you did, you tore off the plastic packaging and harshly threw the bag into the microwave and set the timer. You laid back on the corner of the counter and let out a large sigh.

“Y/N?” You heard Josh’s voice from the living room and his steps that grew louder towards the kitchen. You immediately stood up straight and fixed yourself to look collected. He walked in and abruptly stopped when he saw you agaisnt his counter. You noticed his loss of words, “W-What movie do y-you want to watch”

“Anything, it’s your turn to pick the movie.” You replied.

He started to walk up to you and your breath got hitched in your throat. “Should I make hot chocolate?” He questioned.

You gave him a simple nod, trying not to stare at him for too long. He moved closer to you and you looked up at him. One of his arms gripped the counter to your side. He looked straight at you, his mouth slightly agape. You took in all his features once again.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get the mugs.” He whispered lowly, staring between you and the cabinet above you. You could have sworn he was about to lean in again.

Your head snapped back and you realized how much you overthink his little gestures. “It’s fine, I can get it.” You offered.

You turned around and stood on your toes, trying to reach for your favorite mugs. Why on the top shelf Joshua? Almost out of instinct, Josh held on to your waist to help you keep steady as you lunged for the cups. You let out a quiet gasp in shock. This isn’t new for him to do, stop overthinking. You eventually grabbed them and handed it over to Josh.

“I’ll make it just how you like it.” He smiled.

➢➣ ➢➣

Josh decided that you should finish your High School Musical marathon and watch the final movie. The first 30 minutes of the movie could not have been more dreadful to watch. The tension in the air was thick, and you were both so used to singing the songs together right next to each other. You two were almost on opposite ends of the couch, which although wasn’t too far away from each other, there was still a gap between you. The only thing separating you two was the bowl of popcorn.

Troy and Gabriella met at the rooftop of their high school, he had just asked her to prom. As much as you tried to hold it in to not seem bored, you let out a quick yawn. Josh overheard the little whimper you let out and scooted closer to your direction.

“Do you want to lay down on my shoulder?” Josh asked politely.

“You don’t have to,” You denied.

“I insist, come.” He demanded. He held out an arm for you to snuggle into.

You reluctantly got up and moved the popcorn bowl to the coffee table in front of you and sat down next to Josh. You moved the sweatshirt that he took off from behind the seat and to your lap. You left the smallest bit of space to not seem weird, although, for you, this whole situation was weird. Josh chuckled at your nervousness and scooted in closer to stop the big space. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and you laid on his. It felt as though nothing happened between you two nearly an hour ago.

Troy and Gabriella were in the middle of singing, and you hummed softly to the music. You felt Josh’s stare burn through you, but you tried to hold back from looking at him. You paid as much attention to the movie as you could. The two in the movie were in the middle of the rain, and were staring at each other intently, almost like how you and Josh were a while ago. They slowly leaned in as they were about to kiss until the bell rang, interrupting their moment.

You heard a snort come from Josh, “I swear, they’re always about to kiss every ten minutes and something always stops them at the last minute.”

You giggled, “I know, they should just finish what they were about to start.”

“Yeah, we should.” Josh replied. You turned to look at him instantly, thrown off by his remark.

“What?” You shifted your body to face him, one leg laying on the cushion and tucked under the other leg hanging off the couch.

“You know what I mean, let’s finish what we started. Your words.” He insisted. “Did you ever think we were just friends?” He whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

He altered his position to mirror you, facing your body directly. He rested his hand on your knee and moved closer to exclude any unwanted space between you two, playing with the material of the sweater still on your lap.

“Is this ok?”

“Yes.” You murmered directly.

You studied his eyes for any hint of a joke. Josh did nothing but admire you. His hand crept up to your cheek and the other around your waist. Like the staircase, you both veered towards each other. You felt his soft lips brush ever so slightly on yours, feeling his hot breath again. He drifted away the slightest to look at you, searching for any sign of discomfort or aversion. You gave a minimal nod as to let Josh continue, which was all he needed.

Josh pushed his lips onto yours for a soft and sweet kiss. The hand that wasn’t on his hot chest went to his neck. You kissed back gently. Josh pulled away extremely slow, lingering his lips on yours for however long he could. His eyes slowly fluttered open, showing an almost dreamy daze. His hands fell from your face and waist to your legs.

You stared at each other for the smallest second, before the confidence deeply hidden inside of you struck out. You pulled him back onto you, and Josh waisted no time in eagerly kissing you back. His hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. He swiftly grabbed his sweater that lay on your lap and threw it across the room. You pressed up your chest to his and tilted your head to deepen the kiss further.

Josh went to put his hand on your lower back, pushing his body weight forward. You slowly went down behind you until your back reached the couch softly. He hovered over you, passionately kissing you. You played with the curls on his hair, twirling it around your finger. You felt him bite down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue in, feeding into your teenage hormones. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it off. Josh removed your hands and pushed you back down quickly, trailing long and awfully slow kisses from your lips to your neck. You felt him bite under your ear, earning a whimper from you. You could practically feel the smirk playing on his face.

He sat up from on top of you and pulled at his shirt from the collar, removing it completely. He quickly attacked your neck again, leaving deep red marks on your neck down to your collarbone, stopping where his sweater covered the rest of your body. You bit your lip to hold back the noises begging to come out. His lips traced back up to your face, fervently kissing your swollen lips. You tugged at his hair, making him groan into the kiss, and you quickly nudged his face up and to his neck. You were able to leave two big marks under his ear before he wanted to go back to giving you attention.

You heard a vibration coming from Josh’s pants. The buzzing didn’t seem to stop him, as he kept creating new marks all over your neck. You wish you would have ignored it too, but you knew it could have been his manager again about the show. You grabbed Josh’s face and held it up to you, his face confused as to why you stopped him.

“Your phone, Josh.”

“That can wait.” Josh grumbled, desperate for his lips to be back on your body. He was stronger than you, so he easily pushed your hands aside to kiss under your ear again.

“Josh,” You moaned out, pulling his face away from your neck again, “just answer it. I’ll still be here.”

He let out a groan, and kissed your lips tenderly once more. He got out his phone that was almost about to finish ringing, and got up from your position. You sat up as well, fixing your possibly messy hair.

“Olivia?” Josh sounded in shock as he answered the phone. “What do you mean you’re here? With Matt?”

Panic took over you and Josh, and he quickly threw on his shirt. You fixed up the couch, picking up the sweater that Josh threw earlier, and bringing the dishes left on the counter to the sink.

“Yeah, I’ll get the door right now, just give me a second.” He rushed, hanging up immediately.

“Should I leave?” You asked, reaching for your bag that was left on the floor next to the couch.

Josh rapidly grabbed your arm and held it to his chest, “No, no, no, please don’t. I promise it will be quick. You can stay.”

“They’re going to see your neck, and worst of all, mine.” You said in fear.

“Please, Y/N. Stay.” He begged.

You let out a sigh, holding his face in your hands to kiss his cheek, “I’ll be in your room.”

➢➣ ➢➣

Josh had been gone for about 10 minutes, leaving you to hear them scream in joy for something you have yet to find out about. After a while it got quiet, which made you as to wonder if they had left or if they were still talking. Either way, you didn’t want to go down and check.

You took that time alone to really grasp what just happened. Everything moved so fast, and you weren’t prepared to face it. In the moment, you would have thought nothing of it, just pushing aside the reality of the situation and focusing on Josh’s body on yours. Now the guilt has come flooding in, overwhelmingly. You didn’t want to like Josh, it would just over complicate you relationship, as if it weren’t already. You hated the idea of dating, it was never something you were good at. All of your relationships ended with you being cheated on or lied to. You know Josh isn’t like that, but the memories it brings back is like nightmare fuel. And now you almost possibly hooked up with your friend ( and kind of your boss ).

You heard footsteps rushing up closer to Josh’s room, sending nerves to your body. The door swung open, making you jump in fear. Josh saw you lying on his bed, almost like this morning, and he tried to catch his breath.

“What happened, Josh?” You wondered, sitting up on the bed and walking up to him.

“We start shooting for our second season tomorrow!” He yelled out, a large smile built upon his face.

The anxiety somewhat washed away, leaving excitement for your friend. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

Josh brought you back in for a tight embrace, picking you up off the floor. As he set you back down, he moved his head back to look at you. He leaned down again to try and kiss you, but you stopped him.

“I think we should talk about what happened.” Josh pulled away awkwardly, nodding.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sat down on his bed, “Listen, I’m sorry if I took things too far. I honestly don’t know what came over me, it was kind of an ‘in the moment’ type of thing. I’m not usually like that.”

You sat down directly next to him, “I’m not saying I didn’t like it, because I sort of liked it a lot. But I’m more worried about what this means for us. We’ve been just friends for years, so why did today feel different.”

“It’s been feeling different, Y/N. Don’t lie to me and tell me you haven’t felt something change between us.” He argued.

“Josh, I know things have changed, but we can’t do this. We’re friends, and worse, I’m your assistant, too. How could that ever work out?” You whined.

“You being my assistant has changed nothing, absolutely nothing. And ‘only friends’ don’t sleep in the same bed together, or constantly flirt with each other, or make out on one’s couch.”

“What are you saying, Josh?” You asked reluctantly.

“I’m saying that I feel something for you that I know is wrong, but I have to express. Y/N, I like you, and maybe it took me a long time to realize but, fuck, you’re the best thing in my life.” He angrily blurted out. “All those songs I wrote, I always thought of you. I know you don’t like relationships, I know that. I’m so sorry I put you in this position, but please, let me try.”

You felt your eyes water, “This is all moving too fast for me. Josh, we can’t do this.”

“You couldn’t have said that before we made out?” He cried, rubbing his head restlessly.

“That was my fault. But I can’t, Josh. I’m sorry. I really want to say yes, but it’s all too much to handle at once. I’m so sorry.” You choked out, getting up from his bed.

“Y/N,” Josh stood up and grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn around.

“Just give me some time, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You yanked your arm out of Josh’s grasp and walked out the door, leaving Josh alone in his room to think if he ruined his life.

A/N - so this is probably has the most sexual-ish writing i can do without feeling like ive sinned ( ironic ) . i took the inspo of his music from his instagram , just not in the same order (: hope u like this little story , planning on making it a small series , so let me know what u think !! love y���all xx

[dendrite-lover]

Life After The Cordon – Part 1/?

Jake Riley x Reader, Jana x Lex

Warnings: Extreme SPOILERS! I don’t think there are any other, but to be safe, 18+

A/N: I recommend reading after you have completed watching at least episode 11, of Containment. Also, this is my first fic ever. Therefore, I totally welcome all constructive criticism, writing tips, etc. Shit, I cannot believe I am actually making this public.

It had been a year since the H7N2 influenza strain had been successfully eradicated after Dr. Cannerts was able to develop a cure that produced the appropriate response level of IFNs needed to kill the virus without causing a hyperimmune response in the patient. In the light of charges against Dr. Cannert being dropped due to the fact that he thought naming Sayid as patient zero would prevent a national outcry instead of creating one, he was nominated the Nobel Prize for Medicine for the following year. After all, when a top government official tells you to do something to protect the nation, you do it. Dr. Lommers was found guilty on several criminal accounts, including the attempt of starting an International war. Those bribed by Dr. Lommers faced similar charges.

*****

Six months after full H7N2 eradication…

Jake awoke like he did for the past several of months. To say he was still traumatized, was an understatement. He hated the neurons responsible for forming the memories. His dreams weren’t always bad ones though. Sometimes there were happy memories playing in his dreams, but last night was not one of those times. Holding Y/N’s dead body in his arms, the pain and fear of sending Quentin with Jana to escape the Cordon, and worrying about the future were visions haunting his dreams every so often for months. Laying pained in his bed, Jake didn’t want to get up. Lately, it had been a chore to even breathe, but he made a promise he would keep moving so that’s what he’s been doing. Remembering that promise, he begun to rise from his bed, allowing the pressure from his tears ducts to be released.

After getting dressed and preparing for the day. Jake walked down the quiet hall of his house until he reached the room he was looking for. Slowly opening the door, he stared at the face lying in the bed for a moment before reluctantly walking over to it. “Hey Q, time to get up buddy, todays the day, remember?” Jake said as he sat on the bed, shaking Quentin awake.

Quentin slowly opened his eyes, smiling widely when he saw Jake. “Yes, I remember, but I’m still sad. I know this is a good thing, it just feels s-so...I don’t know.” Quentin’s eyes were sad and begun to form tears as he stared at Jake.

Jake sighed heavily, trying not to fall apart in front of Quentin. “I kn-, I know, me too, but we said one day at a time. We keep moving, alright.” Quentin nodded in agreement while Jake kissed him on his forehead. “Hey Quentin, I love you.” He said before pulling back and heading out the door. “I love you too Jake.”

Jake stopped at another door down the hall, one only a few steps away from Quentins. Peeking in, he saw a pair of brown eyes looking towards the door he was now walking through.

“How’s my superhero? How’d you sleep?” Jake asked as he sat on the bed.

“Not well, but I’m alright. Is Quentin up yet?” Thomas sat up from his bed. A hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah he is and you can see him downstairs after you get dressed, but listen. If you ever have trouble sleeping, you come wake me or lay your sleeping bag next to Quentins bed, okay?” Jake gave Thomas a moment to respond, but he said nothing as he busied himself, playing with his fingers. “Hey, I love you, you know that right?” Jake was searching his eyes. The features on his beautiful face were that of concern and sincerity.

Thomas then threw his arms around Jakes neck. Jake responded in kind, holding the boy close. “I love you too.” Thomas said before jumping off the bed as he prepared to get dressed for the day as well, but before Jake walked out the door, Thomas stopped him. “I still get scared of being so close.”

Jake then walked back to Thomas, gently gripping his shoulder. “Hey…hey, none of what happened was your fault. You did nothing wrong. You saved everyone.” Jake looked down and sighed shaking his head. “I know what happened hurts, but you have to stop blaming yourself, T. The virus was responsible, not you. Okay?”

With a half-smile, Thomas nodded. “Okay”

After Zone 6 inside the cordon was back to civilization, it was discovered that Quentins grandma and Aunt Sally were robbed and killed by an escapee. Thomas had been in close contact with his family during the quarantine, therefore unknowingly exposing them to the virus through cuts that he tended to. Jake had known no matter what he wanted to remain in Quentin’s life, but when it was understood that neither boys had a family to go to, Jake immediately went to Lex. Lex had used the perks of his promotion as Chief to ensure Jake was granted custody of both boys with no complications.

In the kitchen, Jake started a pot of coffee and began to work on making pancakes with blueberry smiley faces, scrambled eggs, and breakfast sausages. Immediately after Jake began to plate breakfast, the boys came walking down the stairs to eat, discussing last night’s game. Jake had been wanting to take them to a home game, but being in public was sometimes difficult.

They sat at the kitchen table as they usually did. “I hope you guys are hungry because I over did it this morning.” Jake said with enthusiasm, watching them eat with adoration in his eyes before sitting across from them with his plate and doing the same. “So we have a busy day today and we’ll need to pick up flowers before we head to the cemetery.”

Quentin looked up from his plate. “Mom always loved peonies and lilies.” He said with a faint smile.

“Alright, we’ll see if we can find her some.” Jake said while nodding.

“I wrote her a note, may I give it to her?” Thomas asked.

“Of course you can, she’ll love that.” Jake responded. Looking between both boys, he saw such innocence in their eyes, such hope. He knew that it was now up to him to see them through. To ensure they had a better life than he did, but he had already felt that he failed before he even begun. Jake was away on an assignment when Thomas’s dad showed up to take him out of isolation and was split from Y/N to ditch his gear when she was exposed. He hated the circumstances of it all. “Thomas, Quentin, look I’m trying so hard to be what you both need, okay? I don’t want to fail you. I know it has been rough still, but we will get through this. Together.”

“You won’t. Mom told me you have a good heart. And I heard you when you told her you’ll never run.” Quentin said weakly.

“Yeah. You’ve already done so much. We’ll get through the rest together.” Thomas added with such optimism.

Jake walked over to the other side of the table, scooping them into his arms for a group hug. “My boys are so strong and I love you both so much. With everything that I have. I’ll never run” After several seconds, he released them, sniffling, and flexed both of his arms on either side of his head. “Put ‘em up, huh?” Both boys smiled while repeating the actions of Jake.

“Alright, alright, put them away.”

Jake begun collecting the plates from the table. “You guys go upstairs, finish getting ready, and pack for your sleepover, I’ll clean up down here.”

While cleaning, he replayed what Quentin and Thomas had said. Hearing the words from their mouths, he couldn’t believe how much things in his life had changed. It warmed his heart to hear their words, but he needed to know that Y/N was proud of him. It broke his heart so much, you not being there with him and your family. He swore he would be more and so far, he was off to a great start. He was promoted to detective and was granted six months off with pay, in addition to specialty and overtime pay.

****

With a pair of peonies and lilies in either of the two little boys hand and with the urn containing Y/N’s ashes in Jakes hand, they all followed closely behind the person escorting them to her headstone, where your ashes would now lay. A few minutes later, they were stopped a few paces away from the site.

“Well here you fellas are, the third stone here to the left is where you’ll find what you’re looking for. I’ll leave you all to it.” The escort said, clearing his throat, and excusing himself.

Jake inhaled sharply, as they approached the granite headstone, that read Y/F/N, Y/L/N “Strong, Courageous, Honest” engraved in the center. Two months ago, Jake felt it may be best to finally place Y/N’s ashes to rest. He wanted a place where they could visit her, talk with her, and it is what she deserved. After discussing it with Quentin and Thomas, he started making the necessary arrangements.

Looking between both boys, he asked, “Are we ready to do this?” Quentin and Thomas nodded with gloomy expressions on their face.

“Ok. Let’s lay the ashes first.” Jake whispered as he lifted the lid from the urn and started to pour the ashes into the small grave. After the ashes were laid out in the grave, Jake turned his attention to Thomas. “Do you want to place your letter still?”

Thomas was too hurt to speak, so he gently laid the letter on top of the ashes in the shallow grave.

They all placed the patches of grass over the hole before Thomas and Quentin laid the flowers in their hands over the grave.

“You guys still okay?” Jake asked, trying to hold it together, but when he looked down at them and saw them trying to do the same, he couldn’t help but let out a whine that was quickly followed by tears. “I’m sorry, I know I need to be strong for you.” Regaining composure, he now held a sobbing Thomas and Quentin.

Quentin tightened his grip around Jakes neck.

“It hurts so much, Jake.”

“I miss her.” Thomas added.

“I know. Me too, but you know what?” Jake asked, now facing them, and placing his hands on each of their hearts. “She’ll always be here.”

The remainder of the day went by quickly. Filled with fun activities and learning at the Museum of Health. Jake ensured they were constantly exposed to learning opportunities. He knew it was what Y/N would do if she were here. Every day in the Cordon, despite the uncertainty of a future, she would teach, or give them stimulating tasks like creating board games.

Jake decided to take the boys out for dinner since it had been so long since they’ve been able to. They were usually too heartbroken to be out in public if they didn’t need to be, and it was also difficult to do so because Jakes work while in the Cordon made him very popular. Him, Y/N, Lex, and Leo were seen as heroes for their persistence in uncovering the truth. Luckily tonight, there didn’t seem to be many people out. Dinner was spent talking about only happy memories and Jake noticed the boys were able to eat more than they had in months.

****

Before ringing the doorbell, Jake kneeled to look at the two boys beside him. “Okay listen, I’ll be by tomorrow to pick you guys up, but I need you both to behave for Uncle Lex and Aunt Jana.” Jake said to Quentin and Thomas. “We will.” said Thomas with a smile. “We promise” Quentin added, nodding.

Jake then stood reaching out to ring the doorbell. As soon as the door opened, the boys greeted Lex and Jana, and then went off running up the stairs to the game room.

“Remember, behave!“ Jake called out to them before turning his attention back to the recently engaged couple standing in the doorway. “Hey Lex, Jana, thank you both for agreeing to watch my boys.”

“Your boys, huh? It’s no problem Jake, we’re happy to help.” Jana said, smiling proudly at Jake “Besides, we could use the practice” she said as she rubbed the round of her belly.

“Hey man, you know we are always here for you, that’s what family does.” Lex stated while squeezing Jakes shoulder. “How did it go today?” Lex asked sincerely.

“I kind of fell apart. It is so hard to be strong in front of them. Especially Quentin,” Jake sighed “he reminds me of her so much.”

“How are you sleeping?” Jana had a concerned and pained look on her face.

“Like crap, but I hope having tonight will help.”

Lex pulled Jake in for a hug. “Well go on then, we’ll take good care of your boys.” Jake pulled away, laughing, but it quickly turned into a half whimper.

Jake looked down, trying to keep the tears forming in his eyes from falling before he turned back to Jana and Lex. With a hint of sadness in his voice. “Hey, thanks again. I really need this. See you tomorrow.”

“We know” Lex and Jana whispered to themselves at the same time as they watched him get into his SUV.

Tag List: @heythereelejah @taylordrunkonwhiskey

[theysaywhatasadsight]

The Misfit: Prologue (Peter Parker X Reader)

A/N: WHAT’S UP YOU BITCHES!! Ya gurl is back with a series, written in collab with @sectumsempra-beaches , this one is based on the film Khoobsurat, the trailer for which (if you wanna see the direction this will go in, is here . Tell moi if Y’all wanna be tagged!

Summary: (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is the quirky, no-nonsense assigned physiotherapist to Tony Stark, a crippled and cranky billionaire and his house full of weird people who lead a completely different life to hers. She must survive the constant glares from his wife, the pleading eyes of his daughter, and his son’s half-teasing, half-contempt filled eyes that keep seeking her out. (KHOOBSURAT AU)

Taglist: @messy-adiness12345​

The man in the doctor’s apron hurried along the corridors beside the stadium, trying desperately to ignore the various catcalls, screams and shouts that were thrown at him by the fans of the player. He dodged a shabbily thrown water bottle, nearly slipped after someone pushed at him from the side, and muttered a few ‘excuse me’s’ as he finally reached the door marked ‘PRIVATE’.

Inside, the  player was lying on a bed, grunting in agony at his leg which, by the looks of it, was mildly sprained. A woman stood over him, hands on her hips, eyebrows scrunched as she tried to figure out how to fix what was wrong with him with as less pain as possible.

“It hurts too damn much,(Y/N).I won’t be able to play.”He begged.

The woman, (Y/N), whirled around to look at Michael, her assistant, enter.She nodded at him and motioned him to hold Peterson’s shoulder down while  she tried to fix his ankle.She knew that if she screwed thisup, she'd have toface the wrath of his dedicated army. As they were working on the patient, Micheal spoke up.

“Hey, (Y/N)?" (Y/N) hummed, her primary attention on her patient's aching ankle."You remember the Stark case? It came in a few days ago. Yeah, they need us to confirm the therapist today itself. Apparently, even though the position is temporary someone's urgently required. Are you listening?" She hummed again in reply and signaled him to continue. "Yeah, so. Can you please go? Please? Under no circumstance can I go there. I really can't."Michael pleaded.

She made a face. “You know I can’t deal with those stuck up idiots. Why can’t you go?”

“This is the third time I have rescheduled my France trip! My wife will leave me!”

“Really seeing the love there, Michael.”

“Please, please, please.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Uhhh, you guys, discuss your plans later please. My ankle hurts like a bitch.”

(Y/N) sighed and unwrapped the bag of ice she had covered his ankle with. She asked Michael to pass a roll of elastic bandage from their stock and wound it around Peterson's sprain. She patted the bandaged area slightly, satisfied with her work and turned towards the player.

"You're supposed to rest for quite a few days now, you understand? I'll schedule your appointments with your agent. Off the bed now, tiger."

“Hey! Thanks,(Y/N)."

“That’s what they pay me for,bud. Now, in the next match, go out there and bajade unki.”

He blinked twice trying to comprehend what she had said."What?”

“Uhh…nothing. Break a leg!”She smiled meekly at him, mentally face palming at the poor pun.

(Y/N) was on the last day of her duty and had full-on plans to fly back home, relax for a month and splurge the fees she had earned for being a physiotherapist for a well-known cricket team. Although she had no knowledge of the game, (much to the despair of her father Steve, who despite the fact that he was born and brought up in America, was a hardcore cricket fan and a sucker for Indian sweets, thanks to (Y/N)'s late mother.)

The young physiotherapist had forgotten that Micheal was still present in the room and jumped when he spoke up.“You’re saving my marriage, (Y/N).”

She laughed along with him as she replied, “Yeah, yeah. That's the least I can do.”

The rest of the conversation was drowned out by the commentators as they cheered Peterson's team for their victory.

Absolutely ecstatic that her mom's favourite team won, (Y/N) did a happy dance with her assistant as she resigned for the day.

                                                     X-X-X-X

"There is absolutely no need for you to go all the way to Los Angeles to meet with Mr. Odinson. As your lawyer, I can assure you that I will bring him to New York soon. We have been trying for three months now and he will surely yield. He has just been very evasive. Rest assured, Mr. Stark."

The young man sitting across from his lawyer looked up from the papers he was reading and smiled. "Thank you for your advice, Mr. Stane. You have had me waiting for three months but personally, I believe that there is no need to wait. Since it is clear that our views have long since diverged, I believe so should our paths."

As the older man absorbed the news an airport staff member walked up to them. "Mr. Peter Stark? Your seat for the next flight to Los Angeles has been confirmed." She handed the ticket to him and left. Peter turned around and waved the ticket at the lawyer. "Mr. Stane, you will be respectfully escorted to your house by my driver. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to catch. I believe if I talk to Mr. Odinson when he can't escape, he would have to yield. And certainly, what's a better place than a seat right next to him on a five hour flight?"

                                               X-X-X

 At 7:50 PM exactly, Virginia “Pepper” Stark walked out of her rooms after changing for dinner and a phone call with her son, Peter. At 7:55 PM, she fired two servants who were not up to task, signed a few files and sat down to dinner, greeting her husband Tony, and sighed about her daughter who was late again. At 7:56 PM exactly, Wanda Stark rushed into the dining room, saw her mother’s frown, silently scolding her for leaving her hair open, tied it up and stepped back into the room with all the grace she could muster and at 8:00 PM, her mother motioned for dinner to be served.

“Good Evening, Dad, Mother.”

“Good Evening dear.” Tony beamed at her.

“Discipline is not a bad thing, dear.”Pepper softly chastised her daughter.

“Sorry, mother.”

“Tony, by the way, Dr. Chopra had called. Your new physiotherapist, Dr. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), arrives the day after tomorrow. She is a sports physiotherapist. If you at least try once…”she pleaded at her husband.

“I have not called anyone, neither chased them away. Jarvis?”

“Yes, Sir?”Their butler promptly replied.

“What’s the score? 40, 42?”

“No idea, sir.”

Wanda glanced quickly at her mother who was glaring daggers at her husband while he sipped wine and smiled at her. She wondered just what the hell a normal life felt like.

                                                                                  X-X-X-X

“Dear god, you know me, why would I be formal with you? All I want in life is for (Y/N) to be happy and find a nice, well-mannered boy she'll be in love with for the rest of her life. Then at the wedding, I’ll have a huge thank you party for you.”

“Dear God, please don’t listen to him, especially the last line.”(Y/N) glared at her father and sent a silent plea to his husband, Bucky. She knew it was useless when she saw Bucky trying to hide his laughter, failing miserably and choking on the chicken.

“Why? Since the last two years, husband toh chodho, you don’t even have a boyfriend! You have become so famous now, working with so many cricket teams. I admit that Peterson is elderly and married, but you could’ve at least come in the news with a hot new player! And that Greenberg’s son, he also has become an actor! Your love life is so barren that even I have the extreme urge to just set you up with someone.”

“Baba Yaar, don’t start this please.” In an attempt to avoid further conversation with Steve, (Y/N) turned to face Sam who had been on cooking duty that day.

“Tu toh chah gaya yaar! The chicken is top class!”She grinned at Sam with such fake sweetness that Sam started laughing loudly.

Steve grumbled under his breath while Bucky snickered at his husband’s life long wish to see his daughter happily married after he had had to deal with her numerous break up sagas.

                                                        X-X-X

“Is September fine?”

“Yes. My planners will be here by then. Have we decided a venue yet?” Michelle Jones, MJ only to her friends and the fiancée of Peter Stark, the heir of Stark Industries, was stirring her tea with a dainty hand while the other pointed at available dates in her planner.

Their elaborate planning was disrupted by a booking voice. The man, seemingly Peter's age, sat across them, a warm and homely aura arriving with him.

“Stark, man! You’re in LA and didn’t call? But then, how can anyone compete with you?”The man smiled at Peter and Michelle. Peter, who perked up mildly, as much as his controlled expression would allow, and replied, “Michelle, meet Ned Leeds. My best friend since 5th grade. Ned, my fiancée, Michelle.”He introduced the two strangers.

“Congratulations, and my sympathies, Michelle. You are marrying a work machine."Ned joked. He then faced Peter and added, "Still, great that you’re finally settling down. God knows how I would have tolerated you, alone and lonely at 75.Anyway, I have a business meet in five minutes. I saw you here and thought that maybe we could catch up. Call me later, Peter, and nice to meet you, Michelle.”Ned bid a good day and left the soon-to-be married couple together.

“He’s really sweet.”Michelle smiled.

“Yes.” Peter replied, lost in old memories.

                                                   X-X-X

“Look, if you want to marry some boring doctor or banker, I won’t attend that marriage. Now if you manage to snag someone who is adventurous and charming just like you, that would be a match made in heaven."

“Nobody stays, Steve.” She remembered the various times she had been dumped on pretense of being ‘too loud, not simple enough, not having a control on her tongue' etc. She frowned and looked down at her chicken.

“Don’t take old breakups to heart kiddo." Bucky joined in the conversation."Besides, those fools weren’t good enough for you. You see, your good luck will just start.” After Steve and his daughter had moved to the US, he had met James “Call me Bucky” Barnes, with a prosthetic arm and one hell of an attitude. Steve fell for it like a ton of bricks, of course.

"You mother would have beaten all your ex-boyfriends to pulp." Steve joked.

(Y/N) laughed. "Yeah, she would have also put a lot more of an effort to find me a guy, now that I have my dream job."

"So you're saying that I should put more efforts?" Steve glanced at her hopefully.

"She probably trying to tell you that she can handle these things when they come her way, punk."

"Shut up, jerk."

(Y/N)and Sam exchanged glances and merely shook their heads at the couple's antics.

Glossary:

bajade unki : Literally, blow them up. It's slang for “best of luck”

husband toh chodho: Leave a husband, (here it means leave a husband, you haven’t even found a boyfriend)

A/N:

So a note about why Steve can speak Hindi. According to this canon, he moved to India and married Reader’s mother. They lived in India for 10 years, where he picked up the language and culture. After his wife’s death, he moved back to the US with his daughter, where he married Bucky.

[inkslingerharry]

Carefully

ATTENTION: This piece contains sensitive material involving abuse in a relationship. Even though I wrote this, I have no experience in this situation, and this piece is fully fictional.

Description: Y/N is getting over some kind of abuse, whether it be an old relationship or abuse at home or something along those lines and harry and her are in an argument and he scares her or something?

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Harry

Word Count: 1,408

“I’ll be back later, love,” Harry said, kissing your cheek before grabbing his wallet and keys and shutting the door.

You sighed, not sure what you were to do alone for the entire day. You didn’t mind spending days by yourself. Loneliness wasn’t an issue for you. The silence wasn’t horrible. The boredom, however, was a problem. You have already tried beading, embroidery, sewing, painting, drawing, baking, anything to help the time pass by. Hell, even masturbating seemed to be boring after a while.

Today, you weren’t sure what you were going to do. The house was already fairly clean, so you didn’t feel like cleaning. You knew you had to do something, though. Harry had already scolded you before for laying around the house all day.

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling of your living room, you grabbed the remote to the television and turned it on, switching on Netflix. Surely a few episodes could help you. While you were watching, you would work on the scarf you started for Harry seven months ago.

Soon, you were completely in the zone; your hands were working and your eyes would shift from the television to your work every few seconds. You were feeling accomplished. You were feeling proud of yourself for making this scarf for your love.

You were always grateful for Harry. He brought you out of your shell, convinced you to do stuff you wouldn’t have done two years ago. You two met when you bumped into him at a grocery store. You were reaching high up to grab a box off the top shelf. However, being as you were short, you couldn’t reach it. You considered not even trying to get it anymore. Because if you asked someone, you would… well, have to ask someone.

After entering your last relationship, you became nervous, scared, and uneasy around certain situations. Sometimes, you didn’t feel like you could even make it to the grocery store. However, you knew that that was one of your only chances to get away from him. So, you would leave the house anyway.

You could feel the edge of the box, it was right there, just a little farther…

“Excuse me, do you need some help?” A voice asked.

You stepped back immediately, your eyes wide. Realizing you were scared of nothing, you gave a small smiled and nodded. The man reached up, easily grabbing the box and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, holding the box close. The man simply gave a wide smile and nodded, walking away.

You two bumped into each other the next four times you went there. You joked with him that he was a disguised employee. He laughed it off, shaking his head. His name was Harry, and he had beautiful green eyes.

Soon, you were secretly leaving your house to see Harry, meeting at the public library or the grocery store, anywhere that wasn’t too suspicious. If he knew what you were doing, you couldn’t even think of what would happen. Every time you left the house, you thought your pulse would give you away. But, when you were with Harry, every doubt in your mind left. You were actually happy with Harry.

The end of your relationship was messy, and you moved into Harry’s house with a black eye and a police escort.

It took months to simply get used to sleeping in your own room with a door that locked. Harry respected your privacy, and did everything carefully, so carefully. His attention was gentle, and he made sure you were comfortable before he did anything.

He convinced you to talk to your friends again, your parents, and actually do things outside of the house—not as an escape, but for joy. He never held anything against you.

Now, you were helplessly in love with him.

A scarf was a good present, right? You looked closely at your finished product. A few things were out of place, but it would warm him up. You looked at the time: just after noon. You stood, stretching your back. Placing the scarf on the couch, you walked to the kitchen, dragging your fingers along the wall lightly. You and Harry had been too lazy to clean up your dishes from breakfast; so, there they sat on the kitchen table.

Your hip brushed against the table lightly, bumping the table and shaking it. You had already taken two steps before you heard a crash behind you. You gasped and turned around, your heart jumping to your throat, tears threatening to well. You glanced at the shattered dish on the floor. Shards were spread out along the kitchen floor.

“No, no, no, no,” you choked, picking up the larger pieces. Seeing the pattern on the outer edge of the dish, you cursed. It was the dish Harry’s mom had given him for his birthday. He loved it because of the pattern. It was special to him.

Tears now spilled down your cheeks. You were terrified for the first time in years. What would Harry do?

What would Harry do? What would Harry do? Your mind raced as you picked up the larger pieces, hoping you could do so through the tears. You placed the shards on the table again, standing and getting a broom for the smaller pieces. Harry would be home in a few hours.

——————

Harry would be home any minute now, and you were pacing back and forth in the kitchen. You were panting, tears again threatening to spill.

Before too much longer, you heard Harry’s car drive up to the house. You tried bringing your breathing down to normal, but with every attempt, you failed. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose, silently hoping Harry wouldn’t notice, even though it was impossible not to.

Harry entered the house, kicking off his shoes and coming around the corner into the kitchen, smiling when he saw you. However, after hearing you and truly looking at your face, concern filled his face as he walked over.

“What’s wrong, love? What is it? You know you can talk to me if you’re comfortable,” he soothed, rubbing your arm.

You wiped your cheeks. “I broke the plate your mom got you for your birthday. The one with the orange and black pattern around the edge,” you said, pointing to the table.

Harry walked to the table, picking up a piece and sighing.

“It was an accident,” you whispered. Harry didn’t say anything, simply stared at the shard he held in his hand.

He looked at you, slight anger in his eyes. “What were you doing to cause this? You know this is my favorite dish. I can’t go out and buy this anywhere. My mum had it, her mum, her mum. It’s a family thing, Y/N.”

“I didn’t mean to. I walked by the table and it must not have been on there as far as I thought-“

“Obviously!” Harry raised his voice, not quite yelling but just enough to cause you to flinch. He threw the piece back onto the table, causing you to duck and cower into yourself. Watching you, Harry’s eyes softened. He sighed.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice. I know it was an accident. I just,” he paused, fidgeting with his hands, “I didn’t have a great day at the studio. I’m in a rut, so I’m just in a mood. It’s a dish. My mum can get me another one.”

Harry walked over to you, standing a few inches away. “Can I please hug you?” He asked carefully.

You nodded, keeping your arms crossed to protect you. You knew Harry would never hurt you, but you were far more comfortable this way. Harry slowly wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back with his palms.

“I’m sorry, again, Y/N. It was clearly an accident. It’s not like you would smash a dish on purpose.”

“I’m sorry for breaking your dish,” it was all you could say.

“Forget the dish. I care more about you than a dish. How was your day otherwise?” Harry stepped back, keeping his hands on your arms, but in a comforting way.

“I made you a scarf,” you smiled.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really? What? I need to see this scarf right now.”

You smiled and started walking to the living room. Harry’s arm was wrapped around your waist, but so carefully.

[coruscantexpat]

Bonds Unbroken - Chapter 15: “Warm” Welcome

“I gotta say, if this is going to be a pattern, I almost wish I’d stayed on Peragus.”

Meetra glared at Atton through the fields of their force cages, but she had to concede his point. The instant the Ebon Hawk had touched down in the Citadel Station’s hangar, Telosian security officers swarmed the ship. Led by the taciturn Lieutenant Dol Grenn, a man who exuded military background like a strong cologne, the officers swept the trio through the station to the TSF’s main office and imprisoned them in force cages. Grenn confiscated their equipment, informed them of the Ebon Hawk and T3’s impoundment, accused them (albeit diplomatically) of destroying the Peragus mining facility, and then he left with the promise of proper lodgings. That had been three hours ago.

All things considered, Meetra had experienced worse welcomes, but it didn’t exactly leave them with a lot of options.

Atton leaned against the flat panel at the back of his force cage and slid down to sit on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, knees bent and boots flat on the ground, and closed his eyes. With any luck, his nonstop complaining from the hangar to the security station had exhausted his supply of hot air. Meetra glanced to her other side, but Kreia had long since settled into a meditative pose on the floor of her own force cage and it was doubtful she would be good conversation anyway. Meetra lowered herself to the floor and mimicked Kreia’s posture. Her knee creaked under the pressure, but the few hours of rest on the Ebon Hawk had made a marked improvement; it was almost worth the crick in her neck from sleeping in the co-pilot’s chair. Meetra closed her eyes, but clearing her mind was difficult. She was out of practice and meditation had never been a strong suit for her, to the frustration of several of her teachers.

“Didn’t get enough sleep on the ride over?” Meetra opened her eyes and found Atton watching her, lids half open and mouth curved up in a crooked smirk. “You snore, by the way.”

“I do no - ” Meetra broke off and rolled her eyes as his grin stretched into a full smile. “Hilarious.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,”

“Are you twelve?”

“Geez, cranky. Guess you do need more sleep.” He closed his eyes and turned his face away before she could retort, but it was more a dismissal of the conversation than an indication he was tired. And if he felt anything like she did, he must be exhausted. After a moment, he spoke again, eyes still shut. “You ever been to Telos?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never done well in crowds; Telos was heavily populated, so…” Meetra shrugged, good shoulder rising higher than the other. The excuse was mostly the truth, but her Exile status made Telos off-limits regardless. The Jedi had built an agricultural compound on the planet, staffed by failed padawans, and even there she would have been less than welcome. “But that was… before.” Before Alek - no, Malak - devastated the planet’s surface while she’d been meandering around the furthest reaches of civilized space.

“Where were you before the Harbinger ?”

The abrupt subject change threatened to give her mental whiplash, but Meetra could see it for what it was: a combination of boredom and anxiety. Atton might be familiar with detainment, but he wasn’t comfortable with it. “Like I said before, I traveled a lot. Never stayed in one place long.” She counted off planets on her fingers as she spoke them aloud. “Spent a few months on Tatooine - wouldn’t recommend, unless having sand in literally every crevasse does it for you. Kamino’s nice, but the storms are too frequent and unpredictable. Went to Belsavis for a few we-”

“ Belsavis ?” Atton repeated. He was looking at her now, brows and mouth drawn down with confusion. “Why the hell would you go there - to play in the snow?” He shuddered, as if the thought alone summoned the icy planet’s chill. “Tatooine’s backwater, but at least there’s people on it.”

His reaction pulled a laugh from her. “There were people on Belsavis. A Republic outpost - a science project really. Trying to find a way harness the planet’s geothermal energy efficiently enough to power a settlement.” Meetra’s smile slipped as she thought of Kyne - and vanished entirely when Jazala and Dekar came to mind. “I needed a place to stay. They needed another free pair of hands.”

Atton’s expression was still dubious. “Running from a Sith Lord, crawling through fuel lines, flying through a volatile asteroid field, and now I find out you willingly set foot on that frozen wasteland - not exactly reassuring vis á vis you not being crazy.”

“Hey, I got us off Peragus. Crazy can’t be all bad.”

He grinned. “ You did, huh? I must have taken a hit to the head then, ‘cause I seem to recall helping at least a little bit.”

Meetra raised a hand, index finger and thumb held only an inch or so apart. “A very little bit.”

Atton clutched the front of his shirt dramatically. “Cut me to the quick, Jedi. Here I thought I had your respect, but I’m just a pre-”

“Silence.” Kreia’s voice was quiet, but commanding, and Atton fell silent, glaring over Meetra’s shoulder. She turned to find Kreia on her feet, sightless eyes locked on the door across the room. Meetra struggled to her feet, heard Atton do the same. Kreia’s milky gaze flicked to her briefly and then back to the door. “Someone comes.”

“‘Bout time.” Atton stretched, one arm pulled high over his head. “Remind me to file a hell of complaint with the TSF; this has gotta be against at least one of the Republic’s humanitarian laws.”

The holding door shivered and then slid open to admit a young man in TSF garb. He strolled over to the command console for the force cages, a swagger in his step and blaster held loosely at his side, and leaned against the edge, turning to face Meetra. The officer’s mouth twisted in a sneer as he looked her up and down. “ This is the ‘last of the Jedi?’” He shook his head, shoulders shaking with a silent chuckle. “I’m almost disappointed.”

Meetra’s heart hammered a staccato against her rhythm against her sternum, but she kept her face carefully blank. She felt rather than saw Atton and Kreia tense in their cells, but she didn’t let her focus waver. “I think you’re confused. There are no Jedi here.” She took a breath, forced herself to relax. “Did Grenn send you to escort us?”

The man’s smirk widened and he gestured toward his face. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you. Too much wisdom behind the eyes.” He straightened, one hand drifting back to rest on the console. “Well, Jedi or no - regardless of what you want to call yourself - there is no confusion.” He gestured toward her with the blaster. “You’re the one I’ve pledged to kill.”

“Care to tell me who ordered my death?”

Atton answered instead. “The Exchange.”

The assassin tipped his head in assent. “Who else? Jedi are worth quite a bit of money to the Exchange - dead or alive. I think you can understand my eagerness.”

“What I can’t understand is why they’d send a two-bit pistol jockey like you.” Atton’s voice was calm, her tone nearly as playful as it had been during their early conversation, but Meetra sensed the hard edge under the surface. “Their talent recruitment must be slipping. I mean, is the safety even off on that thing?”

To the bounty hunter’s credit, he didn’t take the bait and glance down at the blaster. However, his focus, and the weapon by extension, shifted to Atton, signaling the insult had gotten under his skin. “What do you know? My skills are far beyond the Exchange; if it weren’t for the price on her head, I wouldn’t be here.”

“If they expected someone to succeed, they’d have hired a Mandalorian.” Atton smirked. “Not some cheap Nar Shaddaa back-alley mercenary scum.”

“A Mandalorian wouldn’t have the brain capacity to get further than the hangar,” the bounty hunter snapped. He was visibly agitated now, blaster waving wildly with every punctuation. “A Mandalorian couldn’t have been subtle enough to infiltrate the station, take the identity of a TSF officer, and get close enough to - “

“Overload the cages’ fields and make it look like tragic negligence?” Meetra glanced sideways at Atton. Judging from the disguised bounty hunter’s slack-jawed expression, Atton’s prediction was dead on. More unnerving to her was how easily he’d come to it. “You’re right. A Mandalorian would have had the guts, the honor, to face us in combat. Hell, you probably can’t even fight me .”

“While overloading the cages had occurred to me, at least one of you is wanted alive.” The man shifted back to Meetra. “However, even if I bring them a corpse, I still get the bounty. So, by all means, continue allowing him to insult me.”

“My companions tend to do as they please,” Meetra said, one shoulder lifting in a helpless shrug. “Our imminent doom aside, how do you expect to get away with this? We’re in the middle of the TSF station - you can’t exactly walk out with me. Or my corpse, for that matter.”

“Fortunately, a power surge seems to have temporarily knocked out the cameras.” Now that he believed himself back in control, the bounty hunter’s smugness came back in full force. “So there will be no witnesses to the escape attempt that forced me to kill your friends. Grenn will have me escort you to the safe house, but I’ll arrange for a little detour to the hanger first, and we’ll be on Nar Shaddaa before he realizes we never made it.”

“Sounds like you’ve got everything planned out.”

He shrugged. “It was less difficult than you might imagine. Grenn is so preoccupied with the station’s little black market problem these days, so his attention to detail regarding his officers has been a little lax.” He gestured to the console with his free hand. “Now, I’m going to power down the fields. Do me a favor and hold still while I kill the other two. Remember: I don’t need you alive.”

“I won’t let you hurt them.” It was strange how easily the quiet authority crept into her voice. A decade’s worth of disuse, and yet it slid into place as if she still had the Order’s power at her back. “I don’t want to fight you, but I’m not going anywhere.”

He shrugged. “You’ll not hear me complain, ‘Jedi.’ Frankly, it’ll be easier for me to get you off the station dead. I’ll ask you to put forth some effort, though; Grenn will need a show if he’s to believe you tried to escape.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want him pointing out how pathetic you are for attacking an injured woman,” Atton interjected. Meetra gave him side-eye for the comment, but he studiously ignored her.

The bounty hunter rounded on Atton again, fury flashing in his dark eyes. “You’ve goaded me twice; a third time will not go without response. Consider your name on the first round.” The fingers of his free hand danced over the console’s surface, entering in the sequence to power down the force fields. “Now, please, try to make it look good. My skills are more than a match for an old woman, a fool, and a broken Jedi, but that’s no excuse.”

Full chapter on AO3 and FF.net.

[photosandlyrics10]

Small Steps~Shuichi Hishikura

Sorry for the late delay on many of my projects, I’ve been busy with a lot of my schoolwork. Well..here’s a Shuichi Fanfic for you! It may be a while before I post something again...the problems with writer's block.

But who am I, without you?

Pair: Shuichi Hishikura x MC

Type: Fluff/Angst (You can consider it as a rom-com)

Warning: For a future reference, I may have used other side characters from other routes in this. Also, Shuichi’s background story is not the same as the KBTBB one. Also, I may have changed the preview of the story. The story takes place in Seattle and other places in the US. Also, please be aware of some pretty intense language...the MC is a lawyer.

*Osciopothis is not a real disease.

Y/N’s POV

It was pouring rain as I looked out the coffee shop’s window. Sighing to myself as the waiter came back to refill my mug. I looked down at my cases again. There was something off about it, something that just didn’t make any sense. Soon, a familiar figure appeared in front of me.

“Hello Y/N, nice to see you here.”

I looked up to see Shuichi smirking at me as I sipped my coffee. He slid into the chair in front of me while I looked out the window. He sighed as he attempted to rest his hand upon mine as I slid back. I felt my heart ache as he looked at me with hurt in his gaze. He hurt you multiple times, don’t go back.

“It’s too late for that, isn’t it?” I coldly said, continuing to gaze out the window without making eye contact.

“I’m sorry.” He said as I began to stand up before stopping midway. I looked into gray eyes, full of regret and sadness. Scoffing as I got up, the only thing I told him, “You knew it wouldn’t work out, but you continue to try anyways.”

Shuichi’s POV

It had been 3 months since Y/N had filed a divorce against Shuichi. But no matter how long he looked at those papers, he could never bring himself to do it, it always hurt him in the end. Even with his father’s accumulating wealth, there was always something missing in his life. Shuichi couldn’t remember if there was ever a time when he didn’t make her cry. If the one person who was supposed to be there for his or her beloved, he was the complete opposite.

Shuichi entered his apartment, soon collapsing onto his sofa. He felt the tears come down the face as he broke out into a sob. He looked up to see their wedding picture, both of them smiled, but only one of them shared a sad smile. Sniffling, he pulled out their old wedding album. To anyone, they looked like the idealistic happy couple. But behind the scenes, Shuichi just couldn’t stand her. All those times he screamed at her, the too many times he made her cry, and the too many times she looked like she gave up. Shuichi felt his heart harden as the painful memories continued to replay in his mind as if it was a sad movie on loop. He didn’t deserve her, but he felt like he did.

Y/N’s POV

After running into Shuichi, I walked to the nearest bookstore for therapy. How does the sight of novels attract people? It’s like I could just escape into a different world, a world where Shuichi doesn’t exist and my own past doesn’t haunt me.

While purchasing a few books, I pulled out my umbrella and braced myself for the hard rain. Cars passed by, splashing water everywhere as I tried avoid to being near the street. I looked straight ahead to the see the too familiar skating rink. Sighing before I got a hit by a memory.

[FLASHBACK]

It was December as the temperature continued to drop in the mid 20’s. Shuichi had taken you to the nearby Skating rink, while you went to get both of you coffee. As you came back, you accidently tripped and poured coffee over Shuichi’s peacoat.

“I’m so sor-” Before you could finish you sentence, Shuichi began to scream in your face.

“You idiot! Do you know how long it’s going to take to get this cleaned off? Do you not understand that my cashmere sweater is underneath this?! CASHMERE!”

People began to look at both of you as heavy flow of tears came down your face. You began to run out the doors as Shuichi grumbled and ran after you. As you ran, Shuichi kept screaming for you to slow down. You ran to the nearby park and sat down on one of the benches. Shuichi’s figure began to take shape as he came closer towards the bench. Sobbing quietly, Shuichi sat down next to you.

“Y/N?” You heard Shuichi say as you turned away from him. He placed his hand upon your shoulder as you sniffled slightly.

“Y/N, please look at me. I’m so-”

You whipped your face around, your eyes swollen but your eyes are full of hurt and anger.

“Don’t even start, don’t say you’re fucking sorry. You wanna know why? You never mean it! I have tried to love you, but that’s never the case. What’s the point in trying if just going to get hurt in the end? Especially being with a fucked up bastard like you.”

Shuichi remained speechless as you scoffed at his stupidity. “That’s it, I want a damn divorce.”

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Sighing, I continued to walk on, unsure of my destination. Unsure of a lot of things actually. What happened? How did it come to this? I soon fell into another memory.

[FLASHBACK]

“Y/N! I will not let you divorce me! You can’t do this to me! I nee-”

“No!” You screamed as you picked up your wedding picture. “Do you see this fucking picture? This was supposed to be my special day where I would marry the love of my life! Clearly that didn’t fucking happen since I’m married to you! DON’T EVEN TO TELL ME THAT YOU NEED ME! YOU FUCKING HATE ME! HATE ME BECAUSE I’M NOT LIKE ALL THOSE SILICONE BARBIE DOLLS! I’M DONE, JUST FUCKING DONE! Listen, I’m sorry that I’m not the “perfect” girl for you, since I’m not up in your standards.” You smashed the picture on the ground while you handed Shuichi a large stack of papers. “Sign these paper and send them to my office. This is the only real gift you can give me.”

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Shuichi’s POV

Shuichi woke up to find his alarm clock screaming as he began to get up. As he got ready for the day, he wore his usual grey suit and brown tie. He took one last look in his mirror as he gave himself a sad smile.

As Shuichi entered the office’s lobby, he saw a familiar woman with brown hair. As she turned to the side, it was Y/N, although she was with a larger man. The man looked to be around 6’1 with a masculine build, in a dark black suit. His hair was slicked back with his fierce auburn eyes. Her facial expressions remained neutral while her friend’s seemed to be cold.

“Y/N?”He whispered to himself as Y/N turned to look at him. Their eyes met as she remained a serious posture. She wore a black blazer with a white button up shirt underneath. She also wore a black pencil skirt and pumps.

“Mr.Hishikura, it’s nice seeing you here.” Shuichi felt his heart clench as she remained neutral about her greeting as her friend stared daggers at him.

“It’s quite nice to see you as well  Ms.Y/N.” Shuichi felt tension rising as Y/N gave him a fake smile.

“Well Mr.Hishikura, I have some private disclosures to talk about with you. Do you mind if we use your office?”

As they both settled into their chairs, Y/N began to take out many different papers. As she laid them all out, Shuichi began to form beads of sweat above his forehead.

“Mr.Hishikura, there have been a few people who have wanted to file these charges upon you. I’m not here as a lawyer, I’m here as a citizen who’s trying to help you. Anyways, these all look like they’re dated back to 12 years ago. These people are charging you with the following violations: Trespassing on private property, assault, and robbery. Also, you must appear in court by 4 pm tomorrow. If you fail to appeal, the law will not hesitate to bring you in handcuffs.”

Y/N continued to remain her stiff posture as he remained quiet. Why is she even doing this? He thought to himself as Y/N sighed.

“For your information, I just came here to warn you about what’s going on. You’re a powerful man, powerful people have powerful enemies. This could be seen as a potential weakness, I suggest that you tread quietly.”

As Y/N began to get up, I quickly said,

“Wait.”

She remained frozen as I asked her,

“I was wondering if you wanted to go do something Friday night?”

His heart began to clench as anxiety soon swept over him. He watched as her face turn pale as she trudged silently out of the room, only whispering,

“I’m sorry…”

Shuichi felt his heart sank as he looked at his picture of Y/N on her graduation day. She was smiling with so much joy on her face, the only joy she ever had. His face soon drain all of it’s color as he felt a tear roll down his face. I’ll win you back. He thought. I’ll continue to fight for you, even if it takes me eternity. Shuichi turned to look at the window as he began to reminisce about what happened.

[FLASHBACK]

He was only 15 years old at the time, living in a cheap apartment on the outskirts of Seattle. Shuichi’s mother had been diagnosed with ‘Osciopothis*,’ a strange disease that his father couldn’t understand although he was a doctor. His father couldn’t afford buy proper medical equipment, although he worked at a small clinic.

It was a fateful day when Shuichi saw his mother develop an unusually high fever, as it soon became unbearable. Shuichi’s father often looked at his failed life and often left to the bar, where he often got hungover the next day.

Shuichi waited until his father left to the bar before sneaking out of his house. He knew that there was a research center across town that he could go to. He had also heard that there was a special medicine that could help remove the headache or fever.

It was 10 minutes before closing by the time Shuichi arrived at the research center. As he asked the receptionist about meeting the doctor, she soon escorted him to his office.

Shuichi walked into a large room filled with book cases, as well as many test tubes and liquids. Steam began to come out of one of the tubes as a man in a white lab coat stood behind it with large black gloves and protective eye-wear stood behind it.

“Are you Dr.Witterman?” Shuichi asked as the man removed his eye-wear.

“Indeed I am. How may I assist you today young man?” The doctor gave Shuichi a kind smile as he began to pour a strange green liquid into a blue vial glass.

“Well...my mother has this high fever, it’s beginning to become unbearable. I heard that there was a cure that can help someone recover from it.”

The doctor nodded his head as he made his way to one of his cabinets. He opened it and pulled out a small box that said ‘Jungle tea’ on it.

“Young man, this medicine may help your mother recover from it. It’s made by the freshest leaves of the Amazon jungle as well as other extracts that were conducted in our labs.”

The doctor handed Shuichi the box as he said, “That will be $4,600. Would that be cash or check?”

Shuichi felt his stomach churn as his face became pale. “But that’s so expensive!”

The doctor sighed as he closed the cabinet. “Young man, this is a very ra-”

It didn’t take long before Shuichi’s fist collided against the doctor's face. He immediately fell back as Shuichi dashed towards the exit. As he ran out of the office, he heard the receptionist yelling at him before he dashed out the door.

“HEY! COME BACK HERE WITH THAT MEDICINE!”

Shuichi heard the doctor yell at him before running after him. He soon saw his bike within 100 feet as he dashed towards it. The doctor was nearly out the door as Shuichi jumped up to climb a private property fence. A voice soon called out to him,

“HEY YOU! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!”

Shuichi didn’t stop running until he reached his bike, panting from running so hard.

By the time he got home, it was already dark outside. He entered his mother’s room, he noticed how pale she was. He checked for her pulse as his heart shattered. He collapsed on the ground, before sobbing and crying out for his mother. “Mom!” He cried out, gripping onto her lifeless hand. The tears wouldn’t stop coming down as he cried harder each time he screamed. “MOM! MOM! PLEASE! PLEASE COME BACK!” His sobs grew even more and more.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Shuichi sighed as he looked up towards the sky, looking beyond the clouds.

“I’m sorry Mom.”

He said, a tear rolling down his face. His mother’s death impacted his father the hardest. He threw himself into his work, always in his small clinic. Drowning himself into his work, never stopping until the cure to his mother’s illness.

The day finally came that his Father had did it with success. They both moved out of their terrible apartment and moved into a penthouse in Seattle. His father soon created a company before he passed away when Shuichi was 19, placing him as CEO. The young Shuichi then pursued business school to achieve a better understanding of the business world. By the time he graduated, he had expanded the company to make billions of dollars.

It wasn’t until this moment that Shuichi learned the monster he has soon become.

Y/N’s POV

At my apartment, I was getting ready for a meeting with my co-worker and his clients about their case with Shuichi. We were all planning on meeting at ‘Canlis’ near Lake Union. I inserted a pink pearl earring into my ear as draped my light pink cardigan over my cream colored dress with a white flower patterns on it. I applied an elegant styled makeup as I placed my feet into my nude pumps. Taking a final look in the mirror, I grabbed my light pink purse and phone, made my way towards the door.

As I entered the restaurant, I stopped in my tracks. Shuichi was having dinner with another woman, I felt my heart tightened as I brushed it off. They’re probably just friends. I thought to myself as I made my way to the receptionist.

The waiter soon escorted me to a large circular table as I greeted the clients and my co-workers. We all began to get down to business before I noticed Shuichi and his friend come to our table. “Ah, Ms.Y/N! I want you to come meet my fiancee Samantha!” Samantha smirked at me as she twirled her auburn curls in her tight mini velvet dress. I gave her a deadly smile as I said,

“It’s quite nice to meet you, but if you do ex-”

Suddenly, a flash appeared as more flashes came. A sudden mob of paparazzi came and started asking questions.

“Mr.Hishikura, are you getting back with Y/N?”

“Is it true that you have a new fiancee?”

“Y/N! What can you tell us about your brutal divorce?”

I felt my head became dizzy as I began to stand up. The cameras continued to flash as I tried to make my way through the crowd.

The minute I made my way towards the exit, I bolted to the nearest park I could find. The sun was setting as I made my way to Lake Union park, I stood in front of the fountain. Couples sat together on benches that overlooked the lake as I looked at them with envy. I turned to look at my reflection of myself in the fountain, while a familiar figure appeared next to me.

“Rough day?” He asked as I looked away from him.

“I guess you could say that…”

"You know, my mom used to tell me stories about these stars. 2 people will look up and somehow, they'll end up together. She always had the right thing to say." I felt my heart race as Shuichi began to turn away. Without thinking, I quickly called out to him.

“Shuichi!”

He paused and looked at me with full curiosity, as if he was trying to figure me out.

“About that date, how about Friday? At this park around 5?”

Shuichi’s POV

Shuichi felt his heart began to race as he felt his face turn red. She had finally agreed! He felt his face flush red as he said,

"Uh..yeah, sure..why not?"

She gave him a sad smile as she began to walk away. Shuichi stood there as he watched her walk away. This is your chance to prove yourself. He thought to himself as he watched Y/N’s figure walk off into the distance. Tomorrow was Friday as Shuichi walked away with triumph.

Y/N’s POV

I couldn’t believe what I said until I made it back to my car. Are you seriously this stupid? I thought to myself as I unlocked my door. As much as I wanted to punch myself in the face, I refrained from doing so. Why do you keep going back to him? I gazed sadly out the window before driving back to my apartment.

The next day, I arrived early to the court house. Wearing a cream colored pencil skirt with a white button up blouse, I wore a cream colored sweater over it with nude pumps. I placed my hair into bun as I took a seat in one of the rows. I looked up to find Shuichi with one of his lawyers as he turned to smirk at me. As I rolled my eyes, the case soon took order.

Dr.Witterman was at least in his 70’s as he declared Shuichi of the many accusations. Luckily not that many people were present to watch the scene unfold. It didn’t take long before the judge made her final ruling as she expressed that there was not much evidence to prove any of these. The man who claimed that Shuichi had trespassed on his property was also denied. I watched as my co-worker grew agitated as well as his clients.

As people began to file out of the court room, I watched as the Doctor went up to Shuichi and point at him accusingly. Shuichi just smiled at him cunningly as he walked away before flashing me a triumphant smirk.

Later on that day, I was rummaging through my closet, looking for clothing to wear as I stumbled upon an old picture of my family. I slid my finger over the picture frame as I felt tears stream down my face before I could stop it from happening.

[Flashback]

“It’s ok sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are just going to to be gone for a couple of months.” Your mother said as you clung onto her even tighter. Your brother walked in as he sighed and crossed his arms.

“You’ll be gone for 9 months! You’re gonna miss all of my soccer games!”

“It’s alright Danny, we’re going to be protecting our country! Aren’t you proud of both of us?” Your father soon stepped into the living room as he walked towards both of you. He knelt down near you as he placed half of a gold medallion into your hand.

“One half is for you, the other half belongs to your brother. Both halves represent unity and prosperity, while we’re away, you’ll protect each other.”  Your father turned to place the other medallion into your hand as your grandparents walked into the living room.

As your parents rose to hug them, they both turned to look down upon both of you. You found yourself running towards as you broke into a sob.

“It’s ok angel, we’ll be back soon. Be good and listen to your older brother. I love you.” Your mother began to wipe your tears away as she turned to Danny.

“If anything ever happens, you will always protect your little sister. I don’t care where you are, protect each other.” Your father kneeled down as he captured both of his children for the very last time.

It had been only 3 months that you had heard that both of your parents had been killed on enemy territory, while trying to rescue a hostage.

At the funeral, Danny stood there, emotionless. His eyes full of dullness, he had soon lost his passion in everything. The world seemed to crash down on you as you stood in front of your parent’s casket. The U.S flag was placed on both of them as you sobbed even harder. Both of you were given a flag, a sign of gratitude and remorsement.

Time quickly went by as Danny was soon going to graduate high school. It was his senior year as he made his choice to enroll into the army after graduation.

*3 months later*

“You know Mom and Dad would be so proud of you. If Grandpa was here, he’d be so proud of you.”

Danny straightened his uniform as he looked at both your Grandmother and sister. He began to grab his duffel bag as he looked towards the long lines of people.

“I should probably get going, the line’s getting pretty long.” Danny said as he looked at the growing line of people.

He pulled you in a tight hug as you felt the tears stream down your face. Danny began to wipe the tears away from your eyes as he calmly said,

“I’m just going to be away for a few months! I’ll be back soon and everything will be alright!”

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Danny was sent overseas again a few days before I had graduated from college. I wiped my tears away as my phone began ring.

Shuichi’s POV

“Hello?” She answered as he felt a rush of joy surge through his heart.

“Oh, uh...hey there! It’s um..Shuichi.” Idiot. He thought to himself. Now she’ll know that I’ve been waiting to talk to her. He felt his face turn crimson as Y/N cleared her throat.

“So...Are you still up for that date at the park at 5?”

“Uh..Yeah, sure.” Y/N awkwardly responded.

“Ok, I’ll see you there!”

“Okay..bye.”

It was 4:56 PM as Shuichi made his way towards a bench as he held onto a bouquet of red roses. He wore a blue polo shirt with cream colored slacks. Y/N soon made her way to the bench as she wore a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket. She wore black skinny jeans with a white Hi-Tops.

“Hey…” She casually said as Shuichi felt his heart began to race. Y/N took the seat next to him as he handed her the flowers.

“These were actually for you.” He said as his face flushed slightly.

“Um..was there something you wanted to discuss?” Y/N asked, her brown eyes gleamed with curiosity.

“Well..” Here’s my chance. He thought to himself. I wonder how she’ll take this.

Suddenly, Y’N’s phone began to ring as she excused herself. As she began to walk towards the lake, Shuichi noticed as her shoulders began to tremble. It was less than 2 minutes that she collapsed onto her knees.

“Y/N!” He screamed as he rushed over to her.

Y/N’s POV

Meanwhile, I excused myself before answering my phone. As I made my way towards the lake, I began to feel an unsettling feeling.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I apologize for interrupting your evening. Are Y/N Smith? This is General Hank Anderson.”

“This is she.” I answered as tension began to grow. “May I ask what this is about?”

There was a small pause before General Anderson responded.

“I regret to inform you that your brother Daniel Smith, is not coming home. I apol”

“WHAT?” I felt my knees collapse as I heard Shuichi yell in the distance. A surge of tears rolled down my face as I felt Shuichi wrap his arms around me.

“H-h-he’s n-not d-de-dead! P-pl-please do-do-don’t say t-that! He’s a-a-alive!”

“Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Shuichi began to wipe my tears away with his handkerchief as General Anderson continued.

“I am to inform you that that your brother’s funeral is to be held in Washington DC, for his act of bravery. We are holding the funeral this Sunday, perhaps you and your pa-”

“My parents are dead!” Y/N exclaimed as she began to sob even harder.

“I am terribly sorry for your loss ma’am. You have lost so much, I apologize for failing to understand that. I hope to see you on Sunday.” Click.

Shuichi’s POV

[FLASHBACK]

He found her in her bedroom, she was a complete mess. Tissues were scattered everywhere as she held onto a photograph.

“What’s that?” He asked her as her face became pale. As she turned around, her eyes were swollen and a flow of tears ran down her face.

“Oh..um..it’s nothing.” She gave him a sad smile and begin to walk past him. Shuichi made sure she had left to go see the photograph.

It was a man and a woman who held 2 children, a boy and a girl. The boy looked to be around 5 as the girl looked at least 4. It was probably Y/N when she was younger. Shuichi thought as he quickly sat the photograph down.

Y/N walked into the room as Shuichi gave her a stern look as he picked up the photograph again.

“Who are these people?” Dead silence filled the air as Y/N looked down at the ground. Now irritated, Shuichi asked again.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my parents before they passed away. The boy is my brother Danny and that’s me standing next to him. I don’t expect you to understand the values we used to hold.” Before he could say anything, Y/N burst into tears and ran towards the restroom.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Y/N’s POV

I soon began to feel a surge of mixed feelings as I felt my face lose some of it’s color. Shuichi was rocking me back and forth as I suddenly pulled away from his grasp.

“Y/N?” He asked with concern in his eyes. I sighed deeply as I looked away. Who are you?

“Who are you?” I asked, as Shuichi tried to lift my chin up as I quickly turned away.

“What do y-”

“Shuichi please! Who the hell are you? One day you’re screaming at my face, the next, you act as if you actually care about me! I’m tired of all of this! Why the hell did I agree to this?” I got up and began walking towards my car before Shuichi grabbed my wrist and pulled me to look at him.

“Don’t leave me. Please..I know our relationship was no-”

I felt my hand collide with his face as he stumbled to the side.

“Don’t touch me. You know my name, but you don’t know my fucking story.”

As I walked through my apartment doors, I made my way to the home phone to call my law firm. As soon as I finished, I began to searching for flights to DC. The next flight was at 8:10 as it was already 6:21.

Pulling out a large black suitcase, I began to pack to DC. After checking for all of my things, I locked my door and made my way to the airport.

As I finally arrived at the airport, I made sure to book a hotel near the White House. As I made my way through the gates, I was attacked by a memory, a memory I thought I had forgotten a long time ago.

[FLASHBACK]

Her phone began to buzz as she looked down upon it. It was one of those awkward days where Shuichi would cook food and they would eat together.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Shuichi asked coldly as Y/N reached out for her phone.

“Hello?” The conversation began to build tension as Y/N’s face became more and more pale.

“Bu-b-but that’s not possible!” She screamed as Shuichi looked up from his food. Y/N stood up from her seat and ran towards her room as Shuichi watched the entire scene unfold.

He sighed as he got up from his chair and walked towards her bedroom. As he opened the door, he saw Y/N’s pale face looking at a picture of an old couple.

“I’m sorry Grandma...I’m sorry for failing you as your granddaughter!”She sighed as Shuichi coldly asked,

“Who are they?”Y/N’s pale face turned into a sneer as she looked at him.

“And what use would it be to you? It’s not like you care, let alone, understand.” Shuichi’s face turned red with anger as he began to yell.

“DON’T USE THA-”

“WHAT? ARE YOU OFFENDED?WHY WOULD YOU BE? YOU’RE A COLD HEARTED IDIOT WHO HAS NO LIFE! YOU’RE PATHETIC! YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND ME, LET ALONE STAND ME! TELL ME! JUST SAY IT! YOU HAVE HATED ME SINCE THE DAY WE’VE GOTTEN MARRIED.”

With that, Y/N shoved past Shuichi and walked out the door. As soon as Shuichi heard the door slam, he ran after Y/N. Y/N was pretty far ahead as he pulled her around.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Y/N’s face remained cold as she turned around.

“Well...I just learned that my Grandmother died! YOU HAPPY NOW?!” Y/N asked as tears began to stream down her face. “THE ONLY PERSON WHO CARED ABOUT MY BROTHER AND I IS GONE! GONE! NOW IT’S JUST MY BROTHER AND  I ALL OVER AGAIN. BY OURSELVES...LOOK, YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS, SO YOU CAN JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

[END OF FLASHBACK]

“Ladies and gentleman, we will now be boarding. Please bring all of your carry on luggages with you.” Y/N began to board onto the plane, unsure for what the future held for her next.

Shuichi’s POV

He had tried to call her multiple times, but she still didn’t answer. Texting wasn’t much help either, as she was either ignoring him completely or was busy. Shuichi soon gave up and finally retired to his bed.

The next day, he made a trip to her law firm. As Shuichi made his way through the doors, a rush of men in black suits and briefcases ran past him. Shuichi gave them a hard stare as he made his way to the front desk.

“Hello.” The receptionist said as she stared from her computer screen.

“Hello there, I’m looking for a Y/N Smith-Hishikura.” A strained look crossed the receptionists face as everyone else in the lobby had the same reaction. A tall man walked up to the desk as he said,

“Nancy, I think you should let him hear the message.” The he sadly walked away from the scene. Nancy pressed a few buttons on the phone as Y/N’s voice came on.

“Hello, this is Y/N Smith-Hishikura. I am calling to inform you that I will not be able to come to work on Saturday through Tuesday. I am to be attending my brother’s funeral in DC, he was killed on the battlefield. I apologize for the late delay of this message, I just found out today.” Y/N choked out, but you could hear her sobs. “Thank you.”

Then the call ended as the same man walked back to the desk.

“Poor kid, she was going through a lot. Everyone knew she was married to this rich jerk, whom she also divorced. Only to find out that her brother was killed, that’s just too much for her. You know, you should see her in court. That kid has so much passion for her job, she’s just, on fire. Especially on her rebuttals, she just throws something solid and more intense. I’m amazed on how strong that kid is. Well, you have a nice day sir.” The man walked off, as Shuichi began running to his car.

“Siri!” He yelled as he began to start the ignition.

“When’s the next flight to DC?” Siri paused as she replied,

“In the next 3 hours.”

Shuichi began to drive as fast as the speed limit permitted him. He soon found himself panting as he ran to buy a ticket.

As soon as he got the ticket, he made his way towards the gates. He soon collapsed into one of the seats of the waiting area. This was going to be long trip.

[facarous]

THE ADVENTURES OF NYAN NYAN KAMEN|PART 1

by Facarous & Sophcaro

Hi! Facarous here. This little baby is a collaboration project between Sophcaro and I. We are posting in Spanish and English, and it will be a 3-part fanfic. Please enjoy it!

It was a beautiful day: the sun was shining, the wind rocked the treetops, the birds chirped and she had won a coupon with 50% discount for her next visit to the Doki Doki bar. It was a quiet and peaceful Sunday with nothing to do at the police station…

It was.

Who the hell was in charge of the weather section in the newspaper?

Sunny all day long or at least that's what they promised. She didn’t remember reading anything about a sudden 'apocalyptic storm' on the forecast today. It had to be a joke designed by a very sick mind.

So there she was: in a dumpster, completely soaked from head to toe, thunder echoing in the background, and lightning flashing as cameras trying to immortalize her moment of shame.

Could this get any worse?

“Senpai, are you all right?”

Oh, of course it could be worse!

“Of course, officer Matsui. I'm just enjoying the view from here. It's so…” she took a deep breath, “refreshing…”

“I only smell garbage…”

“Shut up and help me out!” Wan Wan Yuko stamped her feet, exasperated. She surely didn’t want to stay stuck there. Soon, a pair of restless ears with dark fur appeared, followed by two sparkling brown eyes. Her partner smiled cheerfully.

“Hai, hai…” A pair of hands began to pull her out forcibly. After several failed attempts - and covering her with even more garbage from various and very suspect origins - she managed to stand up at her full height. Which was not much considering she was only 4 feet 11 inches tall.

“Oh, senpai… you have a banana peel on the top of your head…”

“Stop it, stop it!!” Yuko slapped her hands away to try and stop her partner who was clumsily attempting to clean her up. “Puppy, stop it!”

Yuko had a headache. Her brown fur was a mess, and she smelled so bad she was pretty sure she would need at least two showers to get completely rid of the smell.

“I’m not a puppy anymore,” Her partner frowned, “I’ve not been wagging my tail in days.”

Yuko looked at her in skepticism. Despite her vehement protests, the young officer was wagging her tail in excitement.

“Sure, sure,” Yuko waved her hand at her to calm her down, “What about that cat. I suppose you did not catch it?”

“She is very fast! Bad cat! Daring to steal from the cute shop owner…” the puppy-not puppy pouted in displeasure.

Yuko sighed. That was the third store in a week that was stolen by a mysterious - and sexy - looking-cat thief.

One hour and two showers later...

 No money stolen. She had only emptied the cat food section. Well, apart from a certain brand, the whole cat food had been stolen. Just like with every shop in the neighborhood.

“That’s suspicious…” Yuko massaged her forehead as she waved her tail lazily, “Why did she leave that brand behind?”

“It’s the cheapest and less popular brand,” Yuko turned around to meet with the owner of the shop, immediately noticing her elegance and beautiful features. Thin ears, black curly fur nicely brushed, serene eyes and short tail. A real ojou-sama, Yuko thought.

Her partner was following the owner of the shop's every move, her eyes glued on her with a sparkling intensity. Yuko could almost see small hearts emerging from her chest, and flying around in the sky as butterflies.

She sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

“Don’t worry, miss!" Her partner suddenly exclaimed. "We’ll catch that thief! She’ll never set a foot in your shop again.”

Yuko raised an eyebrow and growled at her enthusiastic words. The puppy had a silly expression on her face, and was waving her tail cheerfully. Why couldn't she have a normal partner?

She cleared her throat, and addressed the owner of the shop once again. "You're saying you didn’t notice anything unusual in your store, until the thief ran out with all the food?”

“I don’t understand how she managed to enter," The princess replied. "Believe me officer; if I had seen her before, she would never have set foot in this place. Would you let someone wearing a mask and with a huge bag in her hand enter your shop?”

“Definitely not,” Yuko wrote down in her notebook, while sniffing the air here and now to try and capture the scent of the thief better. “Well, miss… uh… uh…”

“Matsui. Matsui Rena.”

 “I’m Matsui too! Matsui Jurina!” Jurina, who had been in her own dreamy little world until now - and staring almost obsessively at the shop owner - suddenly exclaimed while agitating her hands in the air.

The victim of the theft and owner of the shop, Matsui Rena, raised an eyebrow at the young officer's childish enthusiasm. Now, she was truly starting to doubt those two officers' ability to solve the mystery of this theft.

As of Yuko, she took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves at her partner's impossible behavior.

Kojima Haruna was not very happy right now. She adjusted as best as she could the huge bag on her back, and began looking for her keys. She was completely wet… and her damn keys were nowhere to be found.

She felt the pain in her arms once she finally dropped the bag inside the hall. A small sigh escaped her lips in relief before her attention got caught by a strange, strong smell.

“Guys?” She called, slightly apprehensive about what she was going to see. She took a few hesitant steps towards the living room, her eyes widening in shock at the terrible sight in front of her.

Chaos… that was the correct word to describe what she was seeing. It was as if a hurricane had suddenly invaded her apartment and destroyed everything on its passage.

"What did you do!" Haruna protested.

Soon, several meows could be heard, and a few pair of ears appeared behind furniture and at every corner of the room. "Mou... I told you I wouldn't be long... I went to look for some food!"

Meows increased and soon a mountain of fur, claws and tails approached her.

CATS.

Dozens of cats approached the newcomer. With their large, bright and hypnotics expectant eyes never leaving her.

"I brought food... lots of food." Haruna said with a proud smile. "This time, it was a big success!"

Walking into the kitchen she cleverly jumped over clothes spread onto the floor and avoided puddles of water, all along while trying not to step onto any of the little fur balls that were following her closely and wagging their tails.

She took multiple bowls that she brought back to the living room, doing her best not to trip on any cat in the process.

Kojima Haruna also known as ‘Nyan Nyan Kamen’ for the police and media - but more known as ‘mom’ for all those cats she has rescued and were homeless until two months ago - slumped into a chair. Well, one of the chairs that was not already occupied by one of her adopted cats.

It had not been an easy task to enter that store. Not since pictures of her wearing her legendary mask were posted everywhere in the city. The police was clearly adamant to catch her, and doing everything in their power to reach their objective.

She had to sneak discreetly into an alley, climb on garbage cans and jump into one of the windows that she knew belonged to the store. Or at least, that was what her logic was telling her. She was very happy when she realized that she was not mistaken. She was successful in finding the small storehouse.

There she found enough of everything. She opened her bag and grabbed all the cat food she could, only leaving behind the cheap brand her children didn’t like. When the bag was about to burst, she decided it was time to go. Lightning could be heard from afar, and it was obvious a storm was coming.

And the storm did come sooner than expected.

She hated rain. Her cat part bristled and hissed. She didn't want to get wet, of this she was certain. She couldn't stay here much longer. It was a matter of time until the staff or the owner of the shop would find her with her large bag full of cat food she had stolen.

She was trapped.

But she could not give up. After all, she was Nyan Nyan Kamen: the very sexy and elusive thief who had emptied two stores in solely one day. She had a reputation to maintain, and staying here waiting for people to catch her was not an option.

So, she did the first thing her brain could come up with…

RUN!

She opened the door of the storehouse, and ran through the store without looking back once. Police was shouting and ordering her to stop, but she successfully managed to make her way out and slip through their fingers.

Once outside, she ran like hell with the bag secured on her back.

The last thing she saw before jumping over a fence and finally losing her pursuers was a cute and small police officer falling into a dumpster.

She smiled.

It had been a piece of cake.

Rena counted once again the money in the cash register. She was about to close the shop, but the whole thing about the theft had left her nervous enough to keep an eye on the door every five seconds. In addition to that, she had this annoying feeling that every one of her movements was being watched.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable she massaged her neck, before clearing her throat and finally tearing her eyes away from the money when she was done counting. A pair of lively and big brown eyes stared back at her. Silence enveloped her for a little while, not sure what she was supposed to do. She sent a desperate glance at her employee who was cleaning the window glasses, but she didn’t get the expected help.

"Officer, is there something I can help you with?" Jurina's tail stirred warmly when she was called. She shook her head vigorously.

"No, I'm just doing my job. I’m looking after the shop in case the thief tries to come back." Rena gave her a somewhat cautious look.

"Officer... don’t you think..."

"Jurina," the officer stopped her abruptly. "You can call me by my name... and so I could call you Rena-chan."

"Eh?"

"By the way Rena-chan, when you close the shop, I have orders to escort you home." A huge bright smile was the perfect finale for such a claim.

"EH?"

Yuko was looking with displeasure at the infamous cat-food bag resting on her desk. It didn’t seem to have anything special; it was blue and had a photograph of a grey cat with blue eyes, long whiskers and a focused look on it. Yuko raised an eyebrow... the latest victim of the thief who was named by the press as Nyan Nyan Kamen, had mentioned that this was the less popular brand of cat food. It had to be very bad to sell so less despite its low cost.

How badly could it taste?

She smiled.

There was only one way to know.

"Takamina..." she called the catlike officer who was sitting at the desk next to her.

"Hmm?" It was a disinterested response, but Yuko could see the ears moving in curiosity.

"Have you ever heard about this brand of cereals?"

"Cereals?"

"Humm, it’s a new brand. Yesterday, they gave us a bag at the store where we went to investigate."

"Ah, you're in charge of the case of this Nyan Nyan, right?" The honey-colored eyes of her partner looked back at her.

"Hmm... yes... Would you like to taste it? There’s a picture of a cat on the bag."

"Doesn't sound bad. Today, I didn’t have time for breakfast and I was thinking of going out to buy something." The catlike ears’ twitched happy. Takahashi Minami better known as Takamina by her friends, got up from her desk and grabbed the bag under the expectant look of Yuko. "It really won’t cause any problem if I take some?"

"No, no, go ahead."

Smiling, Minami opened the bag and slipped her hand inside, only to grab a handful of the croquettes and unceremoniously throw them at her partner’s face.

"Hey!" Yuko got up quickly from her seat, wiping off her uniform.

"Do you think I'm stupid? This is cat food!”

"I just wanted to know how bad the taste is..."

"Am I a guinea pig?"

"No, you're half cat...” Yuko started amusingly, before clearing her throat nervously under Minami’s angry gaze. “Okay, bad joke...”

Haruna walked around the neighborhood with attentive ears and her eyes checking every centimeter of the place.

"Brandy!" she shouted for the umpteenth time. She kept quiet for a moment, attentive to any reply. "Brandy!"

Think, think... if you were a naughty kitten, where would you go?

She sighed. She had repeated over and over to her cats that they were not supposed to go too far away from the apartment. They were still small, and could get lost very easily. Her missing kitten had missed lunch, and she was beginning to fear the worst. It wouldn’t be the first time a cat ended up under the wheels of a car.

She felt a lump in her throat. She had to stay positive.

"Brandy!"

A very soft mewing stopped her immediately.

"Brandy? Brandy!" she shouted in hope, hearing the same mewing a few meters forward. Haruna smiled in relief... but that smile faded when she noticed where her little friend was. Indeed, the small Brandy was trapped inside a sewer. How on earth did it get there? Haruna had no idea how long the cat had been trapped inside but it was wet and looked very scared, ears pulled back and eyes anxious and wide open.

"Brandy? It’s me... I'm going to get you out of there."

Haruna, not caring in the least if she was in the middle of the street, lifted the grid and laid down on the pavement to try and catch the little animal inside. Everything would be much easier if her arms were longer and Brandy wasn’t moving backwards, completely scared.

"Brandy, It’s me. Come closer, let’s go home."

"S-Sorry...” a tentative voice interrupted her desperate attempts to convince Brandy that it was much safer to come back with her than to stay in the sewer.

"Can’t you see I'm busy?" she replied without looking away from the small and wet hairball. "Brandy! It’s me! You need to get out of there."

"Miss... I must insist..."

Haruna ignored again the unwelcomed interruption, instead focusing on trying to get her hand closer to the kitten. She pushed her arm further inside, ignoring the pain of her skin scratching against the pavement. She was just a few centimeters away from the scared kitten.

"Miss, this is very dangerous..."

"I’m really busy here," she said in annoyance, finally turning around to look at the person who was constantly interrupting her. Behind her, was standing a blushing police officer. Haruna frowned at the sight of the visibly hesitant and uncomfortable officer. That’s when she realized her embarrassing position - her behind was raised in the air with her tail wagging from side to side - and her cheeks colored immediately. Hurriedly, she stood up from the floor and adjusted her skirt as best as he could. "I’m sorry, officer…"

"You can't stay in middle of the street like that... it's dangerous."

"I’m really sorry, but Brandy is trapped in there," she explained, pointing at the sewer. "My cat is very scared, and doesn't seem to recognize me. I've been looking for him all day long."

"I understand, but you could have called the fire department for help."

The cat-girl kept silent at the suggestion. She had not thought of that.

"I’m officer Oshima. Let me take care of the situation."

Haruna was about to scream. She knew that police officer: she was the one who had chased her the other day. Oh yes, she remembered her perfectly.

"Of course…" she replied, even though her guts were telling her to run away as fast as she could. The officer didn't seem to recognize her, but she was sure it was just a matter of time.

Three hours, two firetrucks and an ambulance later, the small Brandy was purring inside Haruna's lap. The police officer had a slight nervous tic in one eye as she thanked and dismissed the poor injured firefighters who had received more than a few scratches thanks to the wild hairball.

Yuko looked up to the sky and thanked the gods who had so generously given her such a beautiful view of the girl’s ass. To be honest, she had to use all her self-control to face the situation with professionalism.

Her day had not started well. Takamina had technically kicked her out of the police station, and her interview with the owner of the brand of cat food Cat Chow Chow had simply been unproductive. The whole thing did nothing but reaffirm her suspicions of the possibility that the brand was probably launching a campaign of sabotage against its competitors.

It was obvious that, if there were no other brands in the stores, customers would be forced to buy their food of dubious origin.

However, her day improved greatly with that glorious vision. That cat girl had a very nice ass, and what about the rest? She was just stunning.

"Yuko... concentrate, you're on duty," she scolded herself as she approached her.

"Thank you very much…" the cat girl smiled and Yuko believed that was the most beautiful smile on earth.

"Yuko, Yuko Oshima..."

"Ah... yes, sure... Oshima-san, thank you very much but I have to go."

"If you want, I can walk you home. It’s my duty to protect citizens from any danger..."

"Uh... well... but my apartment... is really close..." Haruna was starting to feel really nervous, every second spent with that officer putting her in danger of having her identity revealed. The police officer was very insistent, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she had already been recognized.

"At least, tell me your name," Yuko inched closer to her and looked straight into her eyes. For a moment, Haruna was mesmerized by those brown, clean and crystalline orbs. She had to admit that since the first time she saw her, she found her very cute.

Officer Oshima suddenly stepped back, and her eyes widened in amazement. Haruna hugged tightly Brandy against her... That’s it, she had discovered her! She needed to escape as soon as possible! She stepped back slightly, ready to turn around, when two hands grabbed her shoulders and the officer’s deep look made her freeze.

"Your eyes..." Yuko seemed so focused, "your eyes..."

"Officer... you’re hurting me..."

"Your eyes are beautiful!” Yuko exclaimed. “My decision is made! Please go on a date with me!"

Haruna wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh, cry or run away.

[contrastbalance]

rap under trump

Things are escalating. The post election void evaporated before too long, after the new President found difficulty enlisting the neighbourhood watch hobbit of the hymen of his choice, he again took to Twitter. He put forth his usual utmost to befuddle the washed – a clearly conscience-capable mouth trying to save it all by sinking into the assisting gullet, artificially blemished bingo wings flapping akimbo against oversized Brioni. The many accounts of his attempts to thwart any possible escape an established model or escort could make transfer figuratively into the everyday perception of him. Any display of old fashioned dominance or transparent abuse of power ensures middle aged men are ejected from social surroundings as a student in a Sky Ferreira t-shirt advises them to do some buttons back up.

It’s different and more difficult to remove someone in political surroundings, which rely on systems of varied historic torch-bearing that couldn’t correlate today. It’s also different and more difficult when he’s somehow the most powerful person in the world. People know he won’t be removed just yet, so there’s less blowback for the time being because the public know their voices haven’t and won’t be fully heard. Sit back to watch and wonder; when will this feel real? In mid-March 2017 it still doesn’t.

Trump does escalate. In a 2011 Comedy Central roast, Snoop Dogg offered probably the best input, but that wasn’t going to be hard when Jersey Shore’s version of your neighbour’s stepdad who you let your pitbull attack was present. The Long Beach native didn’t even see the very foundation of the Don Juan ego as off limits – Trump giggled, plodding along, sort of resembling Thomas the Tank Engine after fracking under the Boots makeup corner. During the subject’s summary, Donnie even went so far as to call Snoop “my friend” praising him as a great example of entrepreneurship. This month Badbadnotgood and Kaytranada released a Snoop Dogg remix of their song ‘Lavender’ along with visuals. You wouldn’t be forgiven for suspecting Mr Trump would be able to easily identify and fully appreciate any semblance of artistic direction and he doesn’t give you the slightest chance of doing so. The video in question is reminiscent of Natural Born Killers abrupt, almost cartoonish scene changes with some of last years infamous clown pranks thrown into the creepy mix, it takes a few watches to piece together all of it’s happenings. A family with a baby held dangerously close to a stove, a police officer, a skateboarding bystander, a newsreader, a car winning gameshow contestant, obligatory vixens and a portrayal of Trump – every member of the community except Snoop Dogg is adorned in clown face paint. After recent indictments and arrests of debatably self-incriminating major rap artists, the likelihood of prop guns in their videos has become a conversation. The hardware that’s caused the issue this time is a plastic onomatopoeic toy.

Three days after the video was released, mango mist Tweeted “Can you imagine what the outcry would be if @SnoopDogg, failing career and all, had aimed and fired the gun at President Obama? Jail time!” Snoop is arguably one the biggest rap artist of all time, his leaf might not burn as brightly as it did 20 years ago, but the US President tweeted at him. The Donald is either wrong when making a negative remark about the state of his career, or wrong to Tweet at him in the first place, if he is irrelevant. This is something of a theme throughout his campaign to run for office and his career as President so far – something is wrong. This isn’t because of the intensely bipolar movements in current affairs that challenge world leaders, like portrayed with great excruciation in large portions of Veep. It’s not because of outlying, outdated systemic habits that would lodge any budding change advocate’s enthusiasm firmly into the sand, not because of miscommunication with his team – because of him. His ideas sound like the way vegan Lunchables sell.

When the 70s Alfa Romeo salesman edition of the troll doll accepted the Republican nomination, the US ranked 64th in a table of world taxation rates – lower than Namibia and Kazakhstan – and levels of illegal immigration were at the lowest point since 2003. The rollout of his jazz policies has rolled as smoothly as a Megabus in Nepal.

Some of the storm in his trail just really isn’t funny. Predominantly in groups who wouldn’t identify as the Walker Texas Ranger type of white Christian masculine, the level of fear is something similar to when a parent shouts on you including your middle name.

Under Bush, Kanye became one of the biggest artists in the world, he seems to have comparatively transitioned from Leo DiCaprio to Mel Gibson. Leading up to this campaign he’s made his main focus area a seemingly Revenant inspired moodboard, leaving models to resemble Chupa Chips entombed in apocalypse era bandages. More than a decade since the hurricane Katrina statement (which Bush would go on to call the worst moment of his time as President, despite committing a collection of probably the worst crimes against millions of foreigners since slavery) Kanye has yet to make defining comments in support of Black people other than himself or his very close social circle. He is an admittedly arrogant, selfish, single-minded superstar capable of creating more unity within one race than Morrisey.

It is noted that to live in California for a certain amount of time you gain otherworldly, further alternative secular views on the world – while you may feel 50 years ahead by making certain statements and acting in your particular way, you may be drawing an increasingly wider divide from those with the collective reach and autonomy to find and secure the best options for large groups. You might also lose a bit of common sense living there, which was a theme of Kanye’s most recent winter. He kicked off this period by taking a meeting at Trump Towers, showing support for the new President. In since deleted Tweets he said; “I wanted to meet with Trump today to discuss multicultural issues.These issues included bullying, supporting teachers, modernizing curriculums, and violence in Chicago. I feel it is important to have a direct line of communication with our future President if we truly want change.” He then capped off his rant with “#2024” seemingly a statement saying he’ll postpone his previously announced 2020 campaign. Many were confused as to why a once self made hero would want to do the same thing Jeff Sessions does all the time.

Trump is just like the rappers that gave rappers bad names. Using dying seagull-like integrity, he has continuously lied about the weight of his worth in Trump Tower toilet material, slandered any hint of an opponent using disproportionate response tactics favoured by internationally feared gang members, reduced the worth of females with varying relevance in his life to something close to a serviette, even deploying shallow selection tactics to determine which girls feature in a filmed production. In between he’s bragged incoherently about his financial standing as a response to anything about him that has been even slightly questioned. He may have also taken part in a legendary threesome that involves a golden component. A differently worn component. It’s strange that through all the articles, interviews, debates, idiocy – all the pandemonium available – probably the most salacious story is the most believable. About the leader of the free world and pee.

The late 90s in New York saw an insane amount of money pour into the pockets of city’s elite, much of it into those of Jay-Z, Nas and Diddy – just as Notorious BIG had his clear ascent into the mainstream widespread genres of taste and financial reward. In 1997 Trump was the same part of the New York scene of materialist glamour at the turn of the century as Peter Stringfellow has been to the world of undertaker pimps for imaginably his entire life. As to be expected he crossed paths with similar heir, Paris Hilton and went on to sign her to T Modelling Management. He’s the only President to have ever been featured on a Method Man song and has even been spotted at private Justin Timberlake shows.

The most tangible and long running link between Trump and African Americans is David Duke. I’ve made a couple of physical appearance based statements in this article and here’s one about the facial arrangement of the former KKK Grand Wizard. To look into the eyes of David Duke is to put yourself in the crocs of a mortician, unzipping the bag containing the stinking carcass of someone hit by a bus while looking at a bus tracker app. In line with conversations that need to happen with historical debt in the US, people don’t always have a short memory, a child absorbs debt left by previous generations. A man named Fred Trump was arrested alongside KKK members following a 1927 altercation with police – the arrest took place at the registered address of the President’s father in Queens, New York. This was 19 years before Donald’s birth, so blame for his father’s seeming involvement in the group would be completely unfair. You’d like to think he knows though, he’s been asked about the group enough.

In an interview regarding Trump’s membership of the Republican party, another roast attendee, Larry King asked Trump, “Did the David Duke thing bother you? Fifty-five percent of the whites in Louisiana voted for him. Trump’s response; “I hate seeing what it represents, but I guess it shows there’s a lot of hostility in this country. There’s an incredible amount of hostility in the United States.” In an NBC interview with Matt Lauer in 2000 the host asked; “When you say the (Reform) party is self destructing, what do you see as the biggest problem with the Reform Party right now?” The response was, “Well, you’ve got David Duke (who) just joined – a bigot, a racist, a problem. I mean, this is not exactly the people you want in your party.”

In February 2016, CNN’s Jake Tapper’s soul left his body – that body showed the same level of understanding of his current situation as a University Challenge contestant in a strip club. “I want to ask you about the Anti-Defamation League, which this week called on you to publicly condemn unequivocally the racism of former KKK grand wizard David Duke, who recently said that voting against you at this point would be ‘treason to your heritage.’ Will you unequivocally condemn David Duke and say that you don’t want his vote or that of other white supremacists in this election?”

Trump began with; “Well, just so you understand, I don’t know anything about David Duke. Okay? I don’t know anything about what you’re even talking about with white supremacy or white supremacists. So, I don’t know. I don’t know, did he endorse me or what’s going on, because, you know, I know nothing about David Duke. I know nothing about white supremacists. And so you’re asking me a question that I’m supposed to be talking about people that I know nothing about.”

“But I guess the question from the Anti-Defamation League is, even if you don’t know about their endorsement, there are these groups and individuals endorsing you. Would you just say unequivocally you condemn them and you don’t want their support?”

“Well, I have to look at the group. I mean, I don’t know what group you’re talking about. You wouldn’t want me to condemn a group that I know nothing about. I would have to look. If you would send me a list of the groups, I will do research on them. And, certainly, I would disavow if I thought there was something wrong.”

“The Ku Klux Klan?”

“But you may have groups in there that are totally fine, and it would be very unfair. So, give me a list of the groups, and I will let you know.”

“Okay. I mean, I’m just talking about David Duke and the Ku Klux Klan here, but…”

The republican candidate concluded with “I don’t know any — honestly, I don’t know David Duke. I don’t believe I have ever met him. I’m pretty sure I didn’t meet him. And I just don’t know anything about him.”

Just like the way he began his political career questioning Obama’s nationality, just like when he started operation “lock her up”, just like the Central Park jogger case – there’s absolutely no way he could be correct. For a President to be completely unaware of the biggest terrorist organisation on US soil would render him further unqualified and incompetent to do his main job – which he says in a punchline in most speeches to date is to “keep all of our citizens safe.” But he knows. Surely his team would’ve highlighted all possible attack options from the media – surely he has been reminded of previous statements that he himself has made. The timeline of those statements show him to be unable of maintaining surely lifelong ethics, like an irrationally startled old man swinging small fists at a relatively calm sea.

While Trump plays to his strength of being incredibly shallow minded, David Duke is the extreme, strategic evil who gets accordingly slammed for his wasting of oxygen while researching the opposite of logic using his chosen devices, probably throwing a puppy down a quarry and agreeing with the screams. While in Raleigh, North Carolina on his campaign trail, Trump took a stance against Jay-Z and Beyonce’s performance at Hillary Clinton’s promotional event and seemingly hinted that he is the victim of reverse racism. “Isn’t it amazing that when Jay Z and Beyonce use the filthy language they use in the songs – using words that if I ever said those words, it would be the reinstitution of the electric chair, right? Right?”

David appears to be aiming for the kids, to build, to create. On the 16h of March he tweeted a picture of Soundcloud hit machines Famous Dex and Lil Tracy with a white female fan, an intimate pose, with any knowledge of the seriousness in which these 2 artists conduct themselves in filmed social surroundings – you’d know there was humour involved, an inside joke that if you weren’t in on you would shut the entire fuck up about. The caption read “Interesting what FaceBook deems appropriate, up to (their) standards – and then, what they don’t. Her parents failed, miserably.”

The world is waiting for what modern artists will make of living Black in America under Trump’s Presidency. The hardest punch yet was provided by YG and Nipsey Hussle who made the new most bleepable song possible with “FDT.” Those bleeps, as YG states in an ever-impromptu interview with TMZ, were forced by Homeland Security, who contacted the rapper’s manager as soon as the song was released, leading it to suffer certain airtime sanctions. Going into the Trump era, rap is in good shape. The genre features some of the most talented, plentiful, diverse, believable, self-aware, controversial acts possible and the audiences have the same qualities. Just as concerns somehow grow more everyday about the hands the country is in, rappers are reaching people they never thought they would, further maintaining the role of leaders who have the chance to start anything. Escalation is set to continue.

I take credit for the articles words and zero of it’s pictures.