#and if people think something horrible must have happened to that rug that people were throwing it away… I simply don’t care 😌

[ruegracieuse]

if I was ever gifted something by a fairy at birth I think it would have been the ability to find lovely furniture/home bits for free/very cheap. Our apartment is 90% furnished with things we’ve found on the side of the road, at op shops, given away by relatives and neighbours. we found a full beautiful Persian rug on the side of the road for council cleanup earlier this year and it cleaned up beautifully. just yesterday we found a tall dark timber shelf/drawer situation that fits in so nicely with the flat. I love it

[cosmichighpriestess]

The wounds were never my fault. But the healing was always my responsibility. Because my ancestors couldn't do it. I had to go through much more than I ever anticipated coming to this planet. Most people don't understand me because they can't compartmentalize me in their small box and label me as one thing. I'm everything and I know it. I never ever wanted to be a sheep and follow the crowd. We are all sons and daughters of God.

But I don't conform and neurotypicals don't like that so they are confused by me. It goes against my natural way of being so they are triggered that I'm not conditioned to be normal. They try to read between the lines but there's nothing there, what I say is what I mean with no hidden meaning behind it. That's how we all are, but we're outcasted because of it.

But I am truly a force to be reckoned with. They want to see me drown but I come out of the water saving everyone else drowning. Their expectations of me are not my burden to carry. They want me to be a doormat, nice, surface level people pleaser who will let them get away with murder and oppression of not just myself but everyone else they hurt. But I'm a sleeping beast you don't want to wake.

Because I will make you wish you never existed for hurting innocent children or anyone. I don't care who they are. I will always survive and I have a strong sense of justice which I think is absurd that most people don't do anything to speak up about the horrible things they witness. I understand observing to see how far they will go but at a certain point enough is enough. Speak your truth. God will make you unfuckwithable for being the only one to do something about it. That didn't hurt me today. That made me stronger and more powerful.

There's so many things that I went through that should have broken me into a million pieces, but they didn't because of my courage and determination for the evolution of humanity. I'm a protector of children, innocents and animals all the way. I've had to come up against so many people because they can't pick on someone their own size. They are truly cowards. Only cowards abuse women, children and animals. Until they meet with me they are in for a rude awakening because I'm not nice. I used to be. I treat people accordingly. Respect must be earned with me especially if I've already observed you attacking and cursing me. I walk with Yeshua and many ascended masters, angels and demons. I've been killed several times at the hands of men and brought back to life because of my purpose.

They want me to numb myself to entertain them and be their dance monkey and act like nothing happened. I feel all of my pain and I cry often but I don't drown in my tears. I just heal quickly. Until the pain comes back for another layer of healing. I just let myself feel all the pain because I know my ancestors were not allowed to. They had to suppress their pain. Otherwise they would be forced into a mental hospital. I remember one of my great aunts, my aunt Marci. Her life story was just as depressing as mine, if not more. She never received what she deserved, she could never follow her bliss and she was surrounded by men who constantly oppressed her and paid her literally two cents a month for her work. She was basically a slave manipulated with fear, shame and guilt into believing that was all she was worth. Her children who were boys abused her as well as her husband and as well as her father. All the women around her swept everything underneath the rug. She ended up shooting herself.

All the times I thought I shouldn't have survived. I actually didn't. I was just placed on another timeline. They don't understand why I'm still smiling after all of the pain. Because I'm happy out of spite. Nothing pisses them off more than you shining and radiating self-love and happiness. My abuser wants me to be quiet and get on medication but I'll never numb my pain or stay silent. My pain is what created me into this. I'm only quiet when I'm observing. I'm the opposite when it comes to injustice and exposing the truth. I'm loud as ever. I'm not embarrassed at all. And they want me to feel shame and sweep it all underneath the rug.

People always find it hard to be around me who are surface level because my authenticity demands a certain caliber of authenticity and integrity that they just don't know how to be because they use one hundred percent of their ego. Even though their ego is only one percent of what they are. I just can't relate. So I'm always alone because I won't do surface level, half conditional love with people who will end up not appreciating me anyways. I need authenticity, kindness and equal give and take to even be attracted. And also because I feel all of my pain and I don't suppress my pain and emotions.

We had such a similar situation and it just reminds me that I am strong enough to feel the pain and they wanted to feel like I was unworthy and like I didn't deserve to have support or respect, or security, or love, or a life. I didn't deserve what I went through, but I was the only one strong enough to transmute it and use all of this pain for good. In spite of everything I became better and stronger. There's so many times I wanted to give up and just find a place to die but God won't let me die. So it's either feel all the pain suppress it with alcohol and drugs which I won't do. It's been so difficult to be on a planet so alone because when I'm with people that don't support me around me and honestly people that I never deserved their neglect and lack of support.

But it's my responsibility to feel the pain of the abandonment wounds and that lack of support. Nobody can take away my true essence and I think that's why they can't stand me because they can't infiltrate or destroy that about me. I'm truly one of the most genuine, pure, kind, strongest people on the planet. It's just who I am naturally because I'm an ancient soul. I've been here since the beginning. By focusing on people that hurt me the most, I am creating more versions of them while simultaneously making them more popular. By holding up my sword I'm creating more war so I have to put my sword down and stay balanced in my light and in my darkness. I also have to define it as easy to do so. So instead I am focused on being in alignment with myself and focusing on my dreams and what I want to experience. I'm never what people expect me to be. They say I'm doing too much but they're not doing enough. I'm not creating more impact by speaking my truth and following my passions. I'm just revealing the impact that I already have by speaking my truth and following my passion.

Because I'm always exactly where I need to be and I'm always needed at that moment to share what I want to share with even just one person who needed to hear it. That one person could create massive change. That one person is needed within the cosmic web. They are triggered and they want to see the ugliest, darkest side of me because they think everyone is as ugly as they are on the inside. But I operate in the light. I'm balanced in my light and in my darkness because I'm always prepared when the pendulum swings back into my darkness. So I don't vilify my darkness, I own it without letting it own me. Like I said, I'm not nice, I'm not going to sugar-coat things to grown adults. But I am very sweet, very welcoming, very warm, forgiving, compassionate and unconditionally loving. But I don't have unconditional tolerance for disrespect and abuse. I'm grateful for the positives AND the negatives because they both serve me. Help people while they're in the fire, not just when it serves you. God says they're done. But they helped me elevate without that intention. I'm escaping the abuse once and for good. Come correct or don't come at all.

[marshmallowprotection]

How do you think the twins feel about having fans in rae? I'm sure they appreciate the public support, but going from no one knowing about you to everyone having that much information about you and your family history must be so uncomfortable

Everything there is to know about the twins is known. People think of them as celebrities by the time we return to Saeran's After Ending. As of the start of that event, it's been almost two months since the first reveal was brought to light, give or take a few days, and in that time, a lot of people have made a spectacle out of them. I mean, look at all of the buzz that happened around SevenStar drink!

Yoosung was one of the ones promoting the soda online in support of Saeyoung! People weren't buying it because they wanted to support the orphanages that the money was supposed to be going to. They were buying everything because they wanted to have a piece of the spectacle. Sure, some of them might've done that, had they known it was the deal between Saeyoung and Chairman Han... but.

I mean, the money was going to the best place it could go to, but make no mistake, I have not a single doubt in my mind that most people wanted to pick up the drink because it had to do with the publicity of all of this. the publicity of all of this. As far as I can tell, people aren't thinking about the humanity in the situation, they're thinking about everything else. 

Imagine what would happen in this universe we live in right now if the leader of a country had illegitimate children revealed, alongside the fact that he apparently kidnapped one of those kids? That's national news, if not worldwide because that kind of event is not something that you can sweep under the rug. Even if everybody thought it was hearsay or some kind of ruse from the get-go, everybody would be talking about it nonetheless.

How could you simply let it slide that a leader you voted for is implied to have done something horrible?

It's just not plausible to avoid it!

Look at this conversation you can have with Yoosung's friend from college who is a "fan" of the twins. Everyone thinks the boys are very handsome and I can't blame them for that, because it is true. But, people are interested in them because of their looks and because of the outright celebrity of the situation.

Everybody wants to be seen with them because it'll boost anything and everything on their social media. Do I think that there are people out there who heard the story that the boys went through and are sympathetic and want to support them for the right reasons?

Oh, yes, I do believe that, but in reality, I know that a lot of people are very shallow.

Unfortunately, there's only so much we hear about public opinion so I can only draw speculation from the people that we are allowed to hear from and interact with in the game when it comes to what all of these people think about the boys.

We even get a lot of support from Yoosung’s mother when we get the chance to speak to her! Her comments are the ones that remind me that not everybody is interested in the boys just because of how pretty they think they are, there are people who genuinely do not like the prime minister and always assumed something underhanded was going on, and now they only have confirmation. 

Another example is the outgoing message on Jaehee’s phone. Out of all of the questions that you could decidedly ask somebody about the boys, why are all of you calling about his hair color? 

More than anything, I know that Saeran doesn't know how to react to any of this.

All he wants to do is live an ordinary life, as an ordinary man, and now he's never going to be able to do that. People are constantly going to think about him even if the news of what he went through fades and calms down eventually, Everyone is always going to know his name and his story. It'll get easier as everything goes by and there's more time to think about the way the world is moving, but I do know one thing, from how he reacted on that phone call with Yoosung’s friend?

He's easily flustered and he doesn't know how to respond to people that supposedly support him and like him because he's not used to that. 

I think he's the kind of person who would be too nice to tell anybody no if they wanted to take a picture with him, or if they wanted to share conversation with him.

Because he is the kind of person that would like to sit down with other people and talk to them, and as long as it doesn't eat too much into his day, I feel like he wouldn't mind the celebrity too much, but if it gets in the way of him being able to have a normal life, then there would have to be a conversation about doing something or changing something to be able to get the piece of privacy he deserves. 

The only thing I'm really worried about are people who aren't going to be considered of his boundaries in the future, you know the people I'm talking about, people who will hit on or make him uncomfortable. That is something that a lot of celebrities have to go through, and we see it with Jumin and Zen, especially. I don't want to think about those details but I know it's something that could happen regardless of how many boundaries he puts up. I know him well enough to say that he would tell people like it is, but he shouldn't have to do that in the first place. 

More likely than not, he's going to be able to survive that situation through the support of everyone around him, and as long as the people around him who consider themselves his fans learn how to interact with him, it won't be a problem. Just let the man enjoy a grocery trip with his partner, please.

He's not asking much. 

God. I don't even know where to start on Saeyoung.

He has been suffering through this Non-Stop and when he is spit out on the other side, he has to learn that the entire world knows about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He is the kind of person who has lived in paranoia his entire life. He is still a paranoid man to this day.

He can't trust anybody and he doesn't want to trust anybody. The only people he can sincerely trust are those he knew before this all went wrong. He doesn't want to be a celebrity, he doesn't want people to know about him, but if it kept his brother from dying, he'll accept it as a necessary evil. 

He won't say anything at all if his brother doesn't mind. He will always put the needs of his brother before himself. If I can say anything, it's that he's not going to want to talk to anybody or give information to anyone else. I mean, think about it, he has had to live in hiding his entire life, constantly changing his name and persona to be able to survive, and now there is a speeding bullet on his back.

The agency that hired him can't destroy him and his father can't destroy him, but you know who can come after him? The countless people he pissed off when he was doing his job. There are people who know his face even if they never knew his name, and that could always be a problem for him. 

His name, his age, his face, and everything you can think of is just out there. When he subjected himself to going on video after the initial sacrifice on the second day, he knew what was going to happen to him. He knew what was going to happen to everyone else. He only did that because he thought it was the only thing that would be able to get his brother to go far, far, far away.

He sacrificed everything willingly in the name of love. He doesn't want his name and face to be out there. 

He wants to have a private life and I can see him going out of his way to wear disguises and avoid people like wildfire if humanly possible. He will spend a lot of time doing everything he can to make sure that he and his brother cannot be followed or tracked because that's just how his paranoia manifests. Until things get settled, I imagine he would spend a lot of time playing bodyguard if only because it helps him feel more in control of his situation. 

He's never going to adjust to people knowing who he is. He went from one extreme to another and there's no words to describe what that must be like. The price of freedom came at a major cost and the twins have to learn how to live with that.

[trickstarbrave]

the dan schneider thing is interesting bc i think for years he has been "the" problem to mention when it comes to child stars and this has only grown since he was fired and this documentary came out. quinton reviews already mentioned this but a lot of ppl enjoy how easy it is to blame one singular person (or even just one network, i see that a lot too with ppl being like 'glad i only watched disney!!!' like disney did not hire an open convicted child abuser who was caught assaulting a child star for another network) because it's just easier.

it is easier to think about. there is no nuance. there is no wider social issue. you can sweep all guilty feelings under the rug for being an active audience of these shows that financially supported them. it was ONE GUY'S fault and now he's fired.

and this is something that isn't unique to the conversation. many times people enjoy blaming their problems or every moral failing in an issue on one person, a handful of people, one thing, and then divorcing themselves from it. they make it black and white. dan schneider was the bad guy of nick and everything bad about the shows you love is his fault and none of the good can be attributed to him. if something bad happened on another nick show it was probably dan's fault. dan single handedly destroyed amanda bynes' entire life and none of it can be blamed on anything else.

but the fact of the matter is this does nothing to address the problems. was dan an shitty human being? absolutely. he was verbally and emotionally abusive, misogynistic, sexually harassed people on set, forced people to work long hours, and made a bunch of people absolutely miserable. even though he was not found to have sexually abused any children on set the work environment he cultivated was extremely friendly to predators. but he is NOT the only person in entertainment who was or is like this. a lot of people who made your favorite stuff from movies to tv shows were potentially like this or inspired by someone like this or wouldn't have gotten to where they were without working with people like this.

this is a pervasive issue. its not the fault of one guy. bad people can make good pieces of art that genuinely impacted you and made a difference in your life. and how and why they are bad is not unique to them. the whole system is fucked up and needs addressing. the entertainment industry is absolutely horrible and needs to be completely overhauled. but it wont be because that makes money. dan was allowed to be horrifically abusive on set because getting things done faster made the network money. children and actors and actresses are put into horrible situations because they need to support their families and speaking out could mean losing a good opportunity at best and losing your entire career and way of making money at worst.

we need to not just be calling out specific people and blaming them for everything bad and deciding retroactively everything they ever did must be bad or divorce them from it (especially when they still profit off of it like JKR). we need to be calling out specific practices. we need to be okay with not having new shows or new movies and waiting longer for less. we need to be keeping in mind the rights of workers and creatives alike and continuing to support them fighting for more protections of those rights.

[angelasscribbles]

King Breaker (A Drabble Me This Story)

Series: Drabble Me This

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Riley x Liam

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Mature Themes, Character Death, Revolution/War

Word Count: 1,479 (once again I broke the word count limit, but this story demanded it.)

A/N: Thanks @dcbbw and @harleybeaumont for listening to me excitedly ramble about this story. Thanks to @21-wishes for the ask and for pre-reading.

A/N 2: So, @21-wishes sent me this ask and my first idea was something technically treasonous but not horrible and maybe even a little funny. But then she sent me the photo you see below and everything changed. This photo launched a whole thing in my head.

My other stuff: Master List.

@21-wishes

Ask: Liam x Riley. Riley has committed high treason and everyone knows it (so no sweeping it under the rug). Liam still loves her.

Riley knelt on the cold tile floor in front of the newly minted king of Cordonia.

He held a blade to her throat.

She stared up at him, her eyes full of defiance, anger, and challenge. “Do it!”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t!” His voice was cold, harsh, angry.

Please. Make it make sense. I don’t want to do this!

The memory of her on her knees in front him in other circumstances swirled through his mind. She had gazed up at him with a completely different expression on her face then.

How had he been so easily deceived? He had truly believed she loved him back. The diamond on her left hand was proof of that.

“Do you need me to do your thinking for you, Your Majesty?” Her tone was contemptuous, “You’re the king. You have all the power here.”

“You killed my father, Riley! Or you were at least complicit in his death!”

Was Riley Brooks even her real name? Had he ever known her at all?

Liam was shaking, but Riley was calm as she replied, “Your father was an evil man. He did awful things to people. You were just insulated from it. Until the night he tried to rape me, and you stopped him. But even then, you wouldn’t go public with his crimes.”

“It would have weakened the monarchy!”

“That’s why the monarchy needs to end, Liam!”

“But I’m not my father! I want to change things! I will be a good king!”

“Maybe. But your reign will be built on atrocities that you were complicit in covering up!”

“I’ll grant you that my father may have earned his death. But what about the rest of us? Drake? My brother? Were you going to murder Leo?”

“Drake getting shot was an unfortunate accident. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Leo abdicated, he’s not a target. Now that Constantine is gone, there’s just you.”

“Why aren’t I dead then?” He asked bitterly. She’d certainly had plenty of opportunities. How many nights had he lain next to her, naked, sleeping, helpless? She could have slit his throat months ago.

The anger and defiance in her eyes were momentarily replaced by regret. But what, exactly did she regret? That she hadn’t killed him?

Riley gazed down at the sleeping form of the man next to her. The moonlight filtered through window bathing him in a soft glow, the shock of dark hair, his eyelashes as they fluttered in his sleep. The strong jawline, his bare chest against the dark maroon of the Egyptian cotton sheets.

She had her orders, she understood her objective, she believed in her cause. The monarchy was evil, and it must be stopped, at any cost. Her hand fisted around the hilt of the freshly sharpened stiletto, grasping it hard enough to bruise her palm.

She watched the rise and fall of his chest. She watched his body twitch in his sleep and a smile wash across his sleeping face as he murmured her name.

She carefully replaced the dagger in the drawer of the bedside table. She would have to come up with a plausible reason for failing in her mission. Again.

She curled her body around his and sighed as he reached for her in his sleep, his arms going instinctively around her.

“I couldn’t do it.” She answered, “I love you.”

He scoffed loudly. Right. She loved him. That’s why she had infiltrated the social season and ingratiated herself with him. That was why she had cleared the path to him by blackmailing Olivia and setting Madeleine up, that was why she had passed the palace security codes to her compatriots in The Liberation Core, a terrorist organization hell bent on destroying the monarchy.

She was the reason his father was dead, she was the reason his best friend had been shot, she was the reason The Core had gotten a foothold in Cordonia, she was the reason a civil war was now raging.

Even if he could forgive her for all of it, her role in everything had been exposed, there was no covering it up, no salvaging anything from the wreckage.

She was a traitor. She had committed high treason. Her execution was his responsibility, his duty.

Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes as he pushed the blade deeper into her previously unmarred flesh. Red blossomed from the wound and started to trickle, then run down her chest.

He took a deep, shaky breath as he stepped away. The blade clattered to the floor, well within her reach. “I can’t!” He sobbed out.

She didn’t lunge for the knife. She stayed on her knees, her eyes trained on him as unreadable emotions shifted behind them.

“Pick it up!” He yelled at her, gesturing to the dagger, “Do what you came here to do!”

He held his hands out away from his body as he told her softly, “I won’t even fight you.”

What difference did it make anyway? One of them was going to die. Who depended only on who won the battle that was currently raging through the palace. His kingdom was in ruins, the palace was literally on fire. The moment he left the throne room, he would be set on by members of The Core that had breached the capital.

The only solace he had was that Drake had taken some time off to recuperate from his wounds. He was in Texas visiting family. Both he and Leo were safely on the other side of the ocean.

Riley picked up the fallen blade and rose slowly to her feet. She laid the cool metal against Liam’s neck, the spine side of the knife flat against his jugular, “If I wanted to kill you my king, I could have done it any night for the last four months.”

She leaned her body into his, her lips inches away from his, the softness of her breasts pushed into the hardness of his chest, “I couldn’t kill you, Liam, because I love you. I don’t expect you to believe me, I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I sure as hell didn’t expect you to let me live. But maybe…is it possible? You still love me?”

The blade clattered to the floor once again as she placed a hand on either side of his face, went up on her tiptoes, and pulled his head down, into a heated kiss.

He tried to fight against it, but his hands went around her waist, jerking her closer as he deepened the kiss. For a moment he let himself get lost in her, like he always had.

Then the memory of his father’s broken body on the ground intruded and he shoved her away, “It doesn’t matter if you do it by your own hand or not! You’ve still killed me! If your friends come through that door, I’m getting dragged out in the streets and publicly executed!”

“For what it’s worth, I hope your blue coats defeat The Core.” She turned away from him, wiping at her eyes. He would never understand the reasons she had joined The Core. The promises they had made about a better future, the lure of vengeance against the crown for the atrocities Constantine had inflicted on his own people.

“Why?” He asked incredulously. “This is everything you’ve spent the last six months working for!”

“So you can live.” She shrugged, “I’m dead either way.”

“What do you mean?” He hated himself a little for the way his heart jumped in his chest at the thought of her in danger. Even after finding out she was a traitor that had used him to overthrow his own father. “You were instrumental in this little insurrection. They probably want to award you a medal or something.”

She shook her head, he still didn’t get it, “I’ve gone from their darling to first place on their kill on sight list.”

“But why?”

“Why? I failed my mission, Liam! You’re still alive and I ran out of believable excuses a long time ago!”

“Riley-“ He reached out for her.

There was a pounding on the door. On the other side was either his salvation or his damnation. He had a fifty-fifty shot at living. She didn’t.

He grabbed her by the hand, “Come on!” He dragged her onto the dais and behind the throne.

“What are you doing?” She asked, but she didn’t resist. She was done resisting. He would forgive her or he would kill her and she was ready to face her fate either way.

“Saving your life.” He replied as a previously hidden panel in the wall behind the throne slid open.

He pulled her through and the panel slid shut behind them just as the door burst open and men poured into the empty throne room.

[softboydrew]

nausea and never enough ice cream

The fire crinkled and sparked as the group sat around, marshmallows and coffee's as the cool air blew around them. The woods grew darker and the stars littered the sky causing y/n to close her eyes, feeling Drews soft caresses against her thigh.

Drew's parents decided to invite everyone for a week long cabin getaway, with sweets and boardgames included. Drew and y/n happily accepted the invention by being the first ones to arrive, their excitement bounced around every new comer making Drew's parents marvel over the fact that their loved ones were having a good time.

Today was a long day. Today consisted of fishing, hiking, cooking, and card games... lots and lots of card games. Drew, pleasantly surprised at how competitive y/n was made the games they played even better with light bickering and playful teasing.

But y/n grew tired by six o'clock and she was surprised at how tired she's been getting recently, even before their cabin getaway she'd been feeling off. Restlessness and cravings for Ben and Jerry's increased as days passed, y/n didn't really think anything about it so she never brought it up or gave it a second thought. Ben and Jerry never let her down so she welcomed the newfound cookie dough cravings.

Until two nights ago, violent nausea kicked her hard causing her to stay bedridden. She felt horrible, trying to sweep it under the rug by telling everyone it must have been something she ate. Everyone seemed to agree but not Drew's sister, she let it slide the first night but as she watched y/n worsen she knew that 'bad food' was not making y/n sick.

So, here y/n was, finally up to sitting outside with everyone, sipping on some green tea that Drew's mother had made for her, making sure to add ginger and honey to calm her nausea. She leaned into Drew and shuffled uncomfortably against him, her stomach twisting and turning at the sight of burnt, gooey marshmallows. The smell making her grow pale and groan causing Drew and his sister to snap their focus on y/n.

"What's wrong baby?" he asked in slight panic.

Y/n sat up slowly and held out her hand, motioning for him to stop talking as she set down her mug and took a deep breath to try and settle her stomach. "I- I need to go inside." she nearly whispered.

Drew quickly stood and held out his hands for y/n to hold onto as he helped her up. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt the fire in front of her spin. "It's okay y/n were gonna take you to bed." Drew said as she whimpered at the feeling.

Drew's sister stood and patted y/n's shoulder before calling over for Drew to lead y/n back inside as she held the door for them to enter the warm cabin. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I ate but I feel like it was that chicken." she gagged making him nod in response.

"Probably." Drew's sister said, pressing her lips together to hide what she was really thinking.

"Don't be sorry, you just need some water and some sleep. You'll be all good in the morning." Drew urged making y/n nod as they made their way up the stairs. Their bedroom was one of the bigger rooms, the oak floors and dark green walls called y/n to bed, plopping down onto the pillows and groaning as her stomach churned at the sudden jolt of her body hitting the bed. "I'll go get some water and pepto bismol, need anything else?" Drew asked, leaning down towards y/n and pushing her hair back from her face.

"Get a bin or something so she can have it by the bed." His sister suggested making y/n nod at him. "I've got her." she smiled.

"I'll be right back."

Y/n sighed, snuggling into her pillow as she watched Drew's sister snap her fingers, pointing towards the bathroom and motioning for her to get up.

"What?" y/n questioned as she watched her lock the bedroom door.

"Okay, listen, I have a feeling that chicken isn't making you feel like shit." she said, pulling her from the bed and dragging her to the ensuite.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this!" Drew's sister whisper yelled, pulling out a box of pregnancy tests that she bought at the supermarket earlier in the day from under the sink.

"What the fuck!" y/n nearly yelled making Drew's sister slap her hand over y/n's mouth.

"Just try! You might be pregnant and it's not like it's likely that you aren't!" She said throwing her hands up in the air.

Y/n scoffed as she shook her head and looked around the bathroom in shock at what was being said. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Drew's sister shoved the pink box into y/n's hands with wide eyes as she peered over at the bedroom door. "I suggest doing it now before he comes back. Y/n lets just see." she said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Y/n gripped onto the box and sighed, her heart fluttered at the thought of carrying a child... her and Drew's child. Her hands began to shake as she began to connect the dots of the days that lead her to this moment. "Fine!"

"Hurry, I'll distract him if he gets back."

Y/n watched as Drew's sister closed the bathroom door leaving her to stand alone in the bathroom that felt like it would cave in on her at any moment. Y/n began taking out the test as she read the instructions and gulped as she unhooked the cap to the test. She froze once she heard Drew knock on the bedroom door, groaning at it being locked.

"Go get, uh, go.. get the dog!" Drew's sister shouted.

"Why?" he yelled.

"Because we- we want him. and y/n wants to cuddle." Y/n sighed in relief as she heard him curse from behind the door and stomp off into the distance. She rolled her eyes at his childish behavior, giggling at how his sister covered for her. Y/n cleared her throat as she set the test on the toilet cover and slowly shuffled out of the bathroom with flushed cheeks and worried eyes. "Don't stress, whatever happens I know it will be alright."

Y/n nodded as she sat on the door of the bed, twiddling her thumbs to pass the time as they waited for time to pass. "I think it's ready." she said quietly.

"Okay."

The girls stood and slowly made their way to the bathroom, clutching each others hands tightly as y/n reached for the test. With a pounding heart she flipped the test in her hand, revealing two small red lines on the little circled screen. They bother gasped, the test falling out of y/n's hand and onto the tiled floor, her throat hitching as they both look at each other with disbelief in their eyes.

"Holy shit! You're pregnant!" Y/n nodded, her eyes not being able to focus as she felt Drew's sister throw her arms around her in excitement. "You're gonna be a mom!" She whisper yelled.

"I-" Y/n started the they suddenly heard knocks coming from the bedroom door.

"I got the dog..."

The pair both inhaled as y/n stared at Drew's sister with panicked eyes, her hands shaking as she watched her take the test and hide it in mirrored cabinet. "You don't have to tell him right now. And you know you don't have to keep it if you don't want to." she said quickly, placing her hands on y/n's shoulders.

"thank y-you?" Y/n gulped as she watched the door being unlocked and Drew strolling in with the dog behind him.

"Goodnight guys!" his sister sang, winking at y/n before skipping down the hall.

Y/n watched as Drew placed the bin onto the floor and chucking her newly filled water bottle onto the bed. She watched as he close the door and bend down to pet the dog, cooing and laughing with him.

Drew glanced up at y/n with worried eyes as he watched her dig at her back pocket of her jeans before she quickly shuffled towards the bed. She smiled at him slightly as she watched him lean onto his side, stretching his body over the bed to look over at her. "You feeling any better?" he questioned.

"Mhm."

Drew nodded and reached for her hand, leaning back in surprise as she flinched her hand away and clutch her chest. Drew's eyebrows furrowed knowing that she did that whenever she was stressed or upset. "What?"

"Nothing!" y/n squeaked out as she sat back against the headboard, biting her bottom lip. Her chest tightened at the thought of him being upset with the news, what if he was mad? or what if he walked out? where would she go, because she's at his family's house, she'd be alone and scared if he was mad at her.

Drew chuckled, reaching for her again as he crawled closer to her, "I know you. What's on your mind, pretty girl?" Y/n jumped from the bed making Drew gasp at her sudden movements. She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath, placing her hands out for him to stay where he was. "Y/n.."

"Okay just-" Y/n sighed as she paced around the bedroom, "Just listen to what I'm going to tell you because I don't know how to tell you and I don't know how you're gonna react because we never really talked about this."

Drew started at her with pure confusion, he sat up straight as he watched her pace around the room in pure panic. he nodded and arched his hands out for her to take and in couple surprise, she took his hands into hers. He watched her take a deep breath as he smiled at her lovingly, his thumbs caressing her, encouraging her to tell him whatever she had to say.

"Okay."

"I- I love you so much." Y/n started making Drew nod, "And I know that you love me so when people love each other... they... they do things-"

"Are you giving me the sex talk?" Drew laughed loudly. "Because if you are then I'm sorry to inform you but I-"

"I'm pregnant." Y/n blurted.

Drew's eyes shot up and a gasp fell from y/n's lips as he jumped off the bed, his frame towering over her small one causing her heart to drop as she watched him walk away from her. "You're pregnant." He said with his back facing y/n.

"I just took the test. Yes.."

Drew jumped up, his fist pumping the air as he turned around, jumping side to side like a jumping bean causing y/n to cover her hands over her mouth as she laughed. Drew quickly made his way over to her and threw his arms around her, y/n squealed as he picked her up effortlessly and spun her around once, twice, three times as her laughter vibrated between them. "I'm going to be a father?"

"Yes." y/n hummed as he set her down, his hands cupping her cheeks into his hands as he watched tears pool at the corner of er eyes.

"We're going to be be parents. We made a tiny human!" Drew nearly screamed as he poked y/n's stomach lovingly.

She giggled at his touch and nodded, pulling out the test from her back jean pocket, "See!" she said holding the test in between them both.

"About time I put a baby in you." Drew smirked.

"Oh, so this was your plan all along?" y/n teased making drew chuckle as he pulled her towards the bed with a plop- causing them to both giggle in bliss.

"Definitely." he teased before tracing spongy kisses against her soft skin, y/n's giggles filling the room as she ran her fingers into his hair as he hovered over her. "Having a little you or me running around it everything." "I love you so much. And I'll love our baby... so, so much." Drew whispered.

"We know." Y/n hummed, gripping Drew's hand and placing it over her soon to be ballon like stomach. "We love you too, so much."

"We know." Y/n hummed, gripping Drew's hand and placing it over her soon to be ballon like stomach. "We love you too, so much."

-

taglist: @pogueslandia @carolineworld

[luimagines]

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

 “Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be  slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders. 

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it. 

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 14

Previous | Next | Master List

This chapter is the longest one yet with 3000 words so I hope you enjoy reading. Also thank you so much for all the notes and reblogs! I just realised that I’m not far from 100 followers and can’t thank you all enough!

TW: Injuries at the end

The cat-themed hero sat on the floor, Ladybug sat in front of him and after a big breath, he spoke. "Ladybug, I- I don't think I'm the true holder of the Black Cat miraculous"

————————————————————

Ladybug looked at her partner wide-eyed. "Wh-what?"

Chat Noir sighed. "Plagg told me that true holders gain side effects. He said that you already have yours"

The spotted heroine nodded slowly.

"From what he said, true holders get the side effects around the same time, when they acknowledge each other in a way. Plagg also said that if you weren't a true holder, using the Ladybug miraculous or the Black Cat miraculous would be...dangerous and would do more harm than good to the user" The cat-themed hero scratched the back of his neck nervously, trying to avoid eye contact with his partner.

"Okay...what does the 'more harm than good to the user' part mean?" She asked, her voice faulty in worry for her friend. Then Chat Noir looked at her in the eye, he seemed saddened and disappointed in himself.

"I... I haven't been myself. I've been treating people who are close to me as if they were...objects. Options. As if they weren't their person. And I feel horrible because of it." Ladybug reached her arm out to hold Chat Noir's shoulder, showing that she didn't judge him for it. "Plagg says it's the destruction from the miraculous, it's not natural for me"

"So you came to tell me" she concluded and the blonde hero nodded.

"I don't want my emotions to spiral out of control, I-I don't want to hurt you because of it so..." his voice trailed off. Ladybug tensed to hear what he had to say next. "I came to renounce the Black Cat miraculous"

Her eyes glinted in realisation "Y-you're sure?"

He nodded solemnly. "I don't want to risk hurting you or anyone else"

She sighed while nodding in understanding, she got up and motioned for Chat Noir to do the same.

"Plagg...claws in" Chat Noir mumbled with a heavy heart, it would be the last time he was ever going to say those words. As soon as he did, his transformation dropped gloomily, almost slower than usual. There stood Adrien Agreste, one of her best friends. He looked dejected and worried, looking at Ladybug for her approval. "Hey....bugaboo"

"Wow...you acted much more...freely as Chat, Adrien" The blonde let out a sigh of relief after seeing Ladybug's approving smile before noticing her face turned solemn in understanding once again. "I'm guessing you two want a moment to say goodbye" she glanced at Adrien and the kwami while stepping back to make space for the two.

"I guess this is goodbye, Kid" Plagg floated in front of Adrien's face, looking sadder than the blonde has seen in his entire time being with him. The kwami floated closer to hug Adrien's cheek.

"Thank you Plagg, for being my friend all this time" The blonde choked out.

"No, thank you, kid. You were one of the best Chat Noirs I've ever met" he hovered back in front of Adrien's face. "You're a good kid, Adrien. Don't forget that"

He took a shaky breath. "I won't...goodbye, Plagg"

"Let's get this over with now, or we'll make it rain" the kwami blurted out, but his voice was heavy with sadness. Slowly, Adrien pulled off the ring on his finger, watching as it turned black when Plagg got sucked in. He then handed the ring to the spotted heroine, surprisingly she took it hesitantly. She brought out her yo-yo, opened it and put the ring inside. She then looked back up to Adrien.

"Thank you" her voice was mournful. "For all, you have done as Chat Noir, all of Paris will grieve over your...retirement" She then took a deep breath trying to lighten the mood. "We need to think of a cover story that will be able to convince the Parisians as well as Hawkmoth"

The blonde put a finger on his chin. "Why don't we say that I got injured in the most recent akuma attack?"

The spotted heroine shook her head. "Hawkmoth would know that's a lie" Ladybug hummed while thinking for a valid reason which even Hawkmoth would fall for. 'Dami has good ideas, but he isn't here right now...what would he suggest?' She snapped her fingers. "I think I got it!"

"Well, what is it?"

"Let's say that as the akuma in the most recent attack had used his power to cause a defect with the Cataclysm, it was Sandboy, so that makes sense. The defect caused some damage with the Black Cat miraculous that wasn't fixable with the Miraculous Cure thus causing Chat Noir's miraculous to malfunction. This malfunction caused some physical damage to you and made you no longer compatible to use the miraculous without causing further damage, henceforth refraining you to be Chat Noir any more and forcing you into early retirement" 'If that isn't a good idea then I don't know what is' she took a deep breath. "What do you think?"

Adrien blinked once, twice before answering. "Sounds perfect M'lady". It wasn't said in a flirtatious manner he would normally use. 'No, Chat Noir used it in that way. Adrien doesn't need to any more, well at least not to me any more. Kagami probably'

"Well" Ladybug breathed in. "I'll drop you at your mansion then? I won't let my former partner walk all that way when I can easily help you get there"

Adrien flashed a friendly smile. "Yeah... I'd like that, thank you Ladybug"

~~~

A few swings later, Ladybug and Adrien arrived in front of Agreste Mansion, she settled the boy down gently on the ground.

"This is where we must depart, can't thank you enough for all that you've done. For all that you've done for Paris and for all that you've done to help me" Ladybug pulled the blonde in for a cordial hug before pulling away and looking at him in the eyes. "Just because you can no longer be Chat Noir, doesn't mean that you'll be excused from this battle permanently. If you want to, tell me now"

Adrien didn't hesitate to answer. "No, I joined the fight wanting to unmask Hawkmoth. I won't stop now just because I'm not paired with the right miraculous"

The spotted heroine smiled at the determination in her friend's voice. "Well, you can help behind the scenes. You can help the citizens out of the way of the akuma, that's all I ask of you for now. But that doesn't mean that I won't give you a miraculous if things get too out of hand. Right now it's best to focus on channelling out the destructive magic in you. Take a break from all of this" She used her arms to gesture fighting akumas and Adrien laughed.

"Don't worry I will just-" he paused. "Don't hesitate to find me if you need help, kay?"

Ladybug smiled and nodded while reaching for her yo-yo that was wrapped around her waist. She launched it at a nearby building and rugged on the rope before turning to Adrien and saying "Goodbye, Chaton"

~~~

Alya briskly walked the streets of Paris, her fingers fiddling with her phone as she was itching to talk to Ladybug. During the most recent akuma attack, while hiding from Sandboy, Alya noticed that Chat Noir seemed...unlike himself. He wasn't goofy or flirty and he wasn't cracking any puns like he usually did. The black cat-themed hero seemed worried and on edge, the aspiring reporter desperately wanted to find the spotted heroine to ask about this. As if by luck, Alya noticed a familiar figure swinging from rooftop to rooftop.

"Ladybug!" Alya called out, reaching to press the record button on her phone. "Can I ask you a question for the Ladyblog?"

Ladybug's yo-yo wrapped around a pole near the reporter which helped her gracefully land in front of the girl. "Sure, I've got time"

Alya hit the record button. "Ladybug I couldn't help but notice that Chat Noir wasn't himself during and after the latest akuma attack, is this something to be worried of or am I just overreacting?"

'I knew I had to talk about this eventually, I just didn't expect to talk about this soon. Alya would be able to spread the message clearly though' The spotted heroine took a deep breath. "During the most recent attack, something unforeseen and irreversible happened"

Alya, noticing the extra seriousness in the heroine's voice, straightened and projected the same seriousness in her own eyes.

"When Chat Noir called on his cataclysm, he was hit by one of the akuma's attacks. He and his miraculous were damaged in the process. Though I managed to fix the miraculous, Chat Noir wan't healed, even with my cure. He is currently recovering and he will no longer join me in battle. For how stable he is currently I... cannot say. I hope you understand that Chat Noir did not want to give up fighting Hawkmoth. Please do not be saddened by this as he is still helping me from behind the scenes. I hope this answers your question."

"Yes... it does. Thank you for spending your time with me today. Please send my regards to Chat"

"I will" she smiled solemnly as Alya pressed the stop record button before it morphed into a more cheerful one. "I hope you don't mind if I ever have to call you to help in an akuma attack, with Chat not being able to physically it'll be more... difficult to say the least"

"I'll always be here to help you out Ladybug!" Alya smiled proudly at the trust that Ladybug was showing her, she was one of, if not, the first to join after the original duo.

"Well I'm glad to have you as my personal reporter. Bug out!" The spotted heroine used her yo-yo as a grappling hook, leaving the stunned reporter.

'Oh my god..she called me her personal reporter! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod-'

~~~

Gabriel had a hand on his chin, smiling maliciously as the video ended. Mademoiselle Césaire has been known as Ladybug's go-to reporter, this video just proved it. Though that wasn't what the fashion designer was thinking. 'With Chat Noir out of my way, we can finally begin this experiment' The video had worked too well, Gabriel truly believed it enough to start trying a power up his miraculous had. He managed to translate a page the grimoire, and he was ready to test it out. 'Now would be the best time, Ladybug is at her most vulnerable'.

He saved the project he was working on previously before calling for his assistant. "Nathalie"

"Sir?" She entered the room immediately, expecting something to happen considering she just finished watching Alya's video which was currently the number one video trending in Paris.

"I believe it's time to move onto phase two" he answered with a smirk as he turned towards the painting of his wife.

"I shall make sure Adrien is safe in his room" Nathalie concluded before turning to leave.

Gabriel's hand brushed the portrait, reaching the familiar buttons that would lead him to his lair. 'Today will mark the beginning of your doom, Ladybug'

~~~

Marinette was sitting on the sofa in Jagged's hotel room. She had just been briefly told how Bob Roth was no longer Jagged Stone's manager and how Penny was now assuming the role. He was caught stealing from Kitty Section and was now working with XY, truthfully, Marinette was glad he was gone. Currently, she was discussing titles for all the songs that were in Jagged's up coming album, including the one she would be in.

"Marinette, have you got any ideas for your song yet?" Penny asked while setting down her clipboard. She had actually already had an idea thanks to Damian.

Marinette sang a bit of the song she wrote unknowingly. She asked Damian to skim through the lyrics sometime they went to bed and somehow she was singing the chorus. She only realised what she was doing when she felt arms wrap around her waist from behind and a husky voice whisper in her ear.

"You sing angelically, mon amour" Damian pressed his face in the space of her neck.

"You really think so?" She asked, she wasn't as tired as Damian was at that moment so she made sure to talk in a way that would soothe him to sleep.

He hummed. "I have a suggestion for a title" he murmured into her neck. "Dernière Danse"

Marinette blinked, slightly unfocused considering the fact that she could feel her boyfriend's breath on her neck, she liked the feeling. "Yeah... I like that"

She hummed and turned to face the sheets of lyrics in front of her, all of which still needed names. "Dernière Danse, Damian helped me decide last night"

"That's rock'n'roll Nettie but-" he had a knowing smirk on his face. "Who's Damian?"

'Damn, nothing gets past him' "Is he your boyfriend?" Penny asked, fond of her honorary niece. The two adults looked smugly at each other after being met with silence, practically confirming Penny question. "What's his name?"

"The sooner I find that out the sooner I can threaten that boy with Fang-" A look from Penny shut the rockstar up.

"You're not gonna threaten him anytime soon" the bluenette only continued after hearing a huffed 'fine' from Jagged. "And his name is Damian... Wayne" her voice veered of at the end and she looked to anywhere but the two adults.

"Wait Wayne? As in Brucie's youngest?!" Jagged exclaimed.

"You know his father?" Marinette tilted her head in curiosity, her honorary uncle had never mentioned him before.

"Yeah we were good friends back in the day, been a while since I've seen him actually" he smiled wistfully.

Marinette looked at the time. "Well I better get going. Bye Uncle Jagged! Bye Auntie Penny!" She turned to leave and reached the door but before she turned the handle, she turned to face Jagged and Penny, well, Jagged specifically. "Please don't tell anyone yet, Damian and I only recently got together. And no threatening him"

"I won't tell anyone" he crossed his heart with her fingers but he didn't confirm whether or not he would threaten the boy.

Marinette glared at her honorary uncle until Penny spoke up. "I'll make sure he won't do anything"

The bluenette smiled as she waved goodbye and left the room. She sent a quick text to Damian before she got on the lift and when she did, she pulled the silver ring out of her purse. It laid in the palm of her hand, Marinette glanced at it with a quizzing look on her face.

Tikki then made her presence known. "You have to find someone to use the miraculous soon Marinette" she flew in front of her holders face. "You can go without it for a few battles but then a new user has to be found, you can't fight alone"

She sighed and looked at the kwami. "I know Tikki, I'll ask Plagg if he can sense for any chosen users later"

She soon reached the floor and knocked on her boyfriend's door. He opened up immediately, the bluenette went inside and sat on the sofa. He sat next to her, wrapped his arm around her waist and gave a tender kiss on her temple.

"What happened? With Chat Noir I mean" Tikki then flew out of her owner's purse with the ring in her hands.

"Chat Noir was never destined to use the Black Cat miraculous" Tikki stated matter-of-factly "Luckily he was able to renounce Plagg before the magic corrupted him entirely"

Damian nodded slowly he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud crash in the distance. On instinct, they both rushed to the balcony to see what was going on. Channeling her energy, Marinette recognised the aura of an akuma. She ran back inside and Tikki placed the ring on the coffee table before joining her holder.

"Tikki, Spots On!" The bluenette was then engulfed by a bright light and when it subsided, there stood the spotted heroine. She walked back onto the balcony and before she used her yo-yo, she turned to her lover and spoke in a teasing manner. "Don't lose the ring"

He nodded. "I won't and-" he stared at her in the eyes. "Go show Hawkmoth whose superior"

She smiled and and yo-yo'd away. Damian sighed and went back inside, closing the balcony door behind him. He still hadn't updated the file he was working on, he knew his father and his imbecilic brothers would be on his back so he decided to do just that. He sent a quick text to the group chat he was in to buy him some time. It didn't take long for him to finish and he decided to watch the battle between Ladybug and the Akuma, he had the LadyBlog up on the flatscreen as Alya was streaming the fight. Luckily from a safe distance. Damian didn't doubt Ladybug's ability to fight, in fact, he was impressed. He just wanted to watch his girlfriend take the villain down.

As he turned the television on, he observed as Ladybug and the Akuma, who called itself 'Guerrier', fought. He noticed how incredibly aware the spotted heroine was of her surroundings. She was great at multitasking as well whenever a civilian was in danger. And how she would easily switch from offensive to defensive. It appeared that she had the upper hand. Unfortunately for him though, that would soon change.

~~~

Jason felt very tempted to switch Tim's cup of coffee with the cup of decaf that he had. He was about to do just that when his phone dinged, Tim noticed it too. Huffing at the lost opportunity, he picked his phone up. "It's the demon brat" he scoffed.

"What he say?" Dick asked.

"That there's currently an attack and we can watch it if we wanna, Dickhead" he retorted.

"Tim?" Dick ignored Jason's comment and turned to where Tim was a few seconds ago, though there was only an empty seat.

"Done" Tim's voice came from the living room. 'Where the fuck did he get that energy from-'

The two eldest sons went to the living room and found Tim sitting in front of the television with a live feed from Paris displayed on the screen. There were two figures that stood out. One was in a matte black fencing suit with a long black blade. The other was a red and black spotted heroine which all in the room presumed to be the hero. They watched as the heroine, now identified as 'Ladybug', fought the villain. She was graceful, skilled and tactical. As the battle got slightly closer to the camera, Dick noticed something.

"She looks so young!" He exclaimed. "Like fifteen!"

"She got mad skill for a fifteen year old" Jason commented, slightly unnerved at the realisation of how young she was. After those words were said, the spotted heroine back flipped over the villain to avoid the blade. Ladybug gracefully landed behind him and gave a powerful kick from behind, launching the villain forward and onto the ground. Jason whistled.

The spotted heroine seemed to be in control of the whole situation, it also seemed that way to the men until the villain did something completely unexpected. His body twisted in an inhuman way to get out of Ladybug's grip. Taking advantage of the situation, the villain used his sword to impale the young heroine. The sword went deep into her chest, the handle nearly reached her back. It stabbed through her body with a horrifying and repulsive sound. The three men in the room flinches at the image, they've seen more revolting images than this but this seemed much more different. The sound the blade made, the way the heroine's body was twisted, the fact that she was so young and this was happening and all the screams and shouts in French adding to the atmosphere.They notice her face twist in surprise, pain and pure determination.

The situation in Paris was much, much more serious than they assumed.

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg, @kashlyn, @mochegato, @eggadoodle, @walkingthroughonautopilot, @toodaloo-kangaroo

[polpoka]

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman, Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi  Jung Soo, Tasha

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Kimrokberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 5

((CW. mentioned racism))

The tray made a harsh clink as Alberu set it in front of Taerang, who was sitting on the lignum vitae chair, on the coffee table which formed a complete set with the said chair.

“So, sir, in the end,” Taerang took a pause to sip on the tea the host had provided, though he was the junior, “Did you tell him your name?”

Alberu averted his eyes, before answering in a low voice, “...Yes.”

Taerang sighed. He cared about his employer a lot, especially because of the fact that they had known each other for quite some time, and in that time, he had come to realize rather early on, that Alberu was rather soft on the inside, despite his harsh mannerisms and stern appearance. He cared far too deeply for people and always hesitated to let a connection go. It would be bad in their line of work, but well, sometimes it was necessary. 

He remembered the way the younger college student had always shook his hand rather than barking at him and treating him like a meagre guard. Even though he was one, who had been given to him as a present for his achievements by his former ‘owner’, Angelica and right before Choi Jung Gun, and before that his guardian, Ahn Mon Ran. 

He was always viewed as a tool, almost always at least, Ahn Mon Ran had no other option but to give him to Choi Jung Gun because of the hand the man had on him.

He asked once again, “Did you say anything that even remotely points out the fact that made the person think that you’re part of the elite Crossman family, and not your average joe?”

Alberu still didn’t meet Taerang’s eyes. Taerang knew what that meant and unfortunately Alberu did too. 

Alberu struggled to meet Taerang’s eyes, “I’m sorry, hyung-”

“Don’t call me that right now, sir. You know you’re in trouble. Big time.”

Taerang took a sip of his lavender tea which had been poured til the brim of the teacup, “You were the one who originally asked for these rules to be made, and we can’t break them, since you specifically gave us instructions not to. No matter what you say at the time.”

Taerang looked at the man who was fidgeting anxiously. He knew why these rules were a safety precaution, and he didn’t want Alberu to go through that experience again. Well, technically speaking, he wasn’t there but he was told the story, and he didn’t like it either way, not one bit. 

Alberu also knew the reasons, and the repercussions, and yet it felt horrible. He knew why this had happened, and he didn’t want it to happen again but still. He looked at the table silently for a moment, thinking about the various possibilities which seemed to end with his heartbreak. 

Kim Rok Soo didn’t seem like the guy who would take advantage of him, he just didn’t. Not to mention, the connection- the connection felt as if he was a gust of wind that had finally found his tree, but he knew that in the end, this was the best move he could play. If he stayed, he had no idea what to do. 

Would he confront Kim Rok Soo? 

Would he pretend never to see him again, despite knowing that his heart longed for the other? 

That would just be running away, but Alberu wasn’t even sure what Kim Rok Soo would want. He thought that Kim Rok Soo was free, and that he, a caged bird could never compare, even if he liquidised all his assets he couldn’t compare with that man, and so, he might as well not trouble the other. 

Alberu was determined, yet this time he felt like he couldn’t win. A feeling he hadn’t felt for a long time. It reminded him of the time he had to deal with his dad, and those were memories he would rather not recall, but he was sure a broken person like him didn’t deserve Kim Rok Soo. 

After this short exchange with himself, he looked at Taerang, his eyes looked soulless, and his voice was brittle as he spoke, “So let’s go through with it.”

Taerang felt something inside of him break, he couldn’t do anything but agree, “...Yes, let’s go through, sir.”

Alberu took a short sip of the liquid that had been sitting in front of him untouched, “Ah look, it’s gone cold.”

***

Kim Rok Soo’s apartment was in an overly pristine condition, despite it normally being clean, Choi Jung Soo could tell that he had cleaned the place intensely a couple of hours earlier. The yellow evening lights had been switched on a few hours ago and the three men were sitting on the floor on a neatly maintained rug, with more than an average number of bottles that three men should consume in a single night being kept on the table. It seemed that they had all acknowledged that the only function of the table right now was to act as storage. 

“Rok Soo-ya?” Choi Jung Soo asked, waving his hand over the other’s face.

“Ah,” Kim Rok Soo blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light, before replying to the call of this man, “Yes?”

Choi Jung Soo took a seat next to him and could easily notice a couple of things that were odd off the bat. For example, the eyebags were deeper, he wasn’t paying attention at all, which even when separated from these discrepancies was odd. Not to mention he was drinking a lot, almost as if he was trying to get drunk. Even though Choi Jung Soo knew that Kim Rok Soo was aware of his own tolerance, which was inhumanly high, something must have happened and it was definitely not a good thing, seeing as the way Kim Rok Soo looked and acted. 

Choi Jung Soo patted the other’s head gently, you could hear the tease in his tone, “What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t really want to talk about it…Could you pour another one?” the other responded with a burnt out tone, letting the hand rest there. 

‘I guess it didn’t go well.’ Choi Jung Soo poured another cup for himself, using the nearest half filled bottle, before filling Kim Rok Soo’s cup. 

Lee Soo Hyuk on the other hand, was drinking a little too much than what a forty year old liver could take. He’d drunk two bottles. Downing them like they’re soup, well not like his dongsaeng hadn’t drunk about three bottles of the same type of strong alcohol in one sitting. 

‘Really, the people around me really don’t take care of themselves,’ thought Choi Jung Soo drinking down his seventh cup of scotch. He sighed and looked at Kim Rok Soo, he was sure it was a rejection. 

Kim Rok Soo felt like throwing up. He wanted to throw up all his feelings related to his former neighbor. It had only been a day, he wasn’t that close- So it wouldn’t be hard at all, if that was the case, right? 

“Who am I kidding, of course not.” he murmured. 

“Hmm?” the one beside him asked, “Is something wron-” Before Choi Jung Soo could finish his question, he was tackled with  a hug from the one he had presumed to be on the other end of the table. 

“Rok Soo yaaaaa~ Don’t worry, these kinds of things will always happen.” 

Choi Jung Soo struggled to escape the bear hug he had, without his knowledge, stepped into. “Hyung- Kim Rok Soo is there- There-” he tried to point to the clearly dispirited Kim Rok Soo, failing and being pinned to the floor, while Lee Soo Hyuk fell asleep on him. 

Gradually, Choi Jung Soo too, started losing consciousness, albeit something he did not sign up for, and drifting to sleep, while Kim Rok Soo was sitting in the end of the line of drunkards, well two pass outs and one drunk. 

Kim Rok Soo shuffled to get the two blankets to cover his hyungs before getting his own to join in on the pile of corpses. He shifted the table a bit, and tucked himself to make the rug a little more comfortable to lie on.  He tried to close his eyes, but he simply couldn’t. His mind was haunted by the brunette, and not in a good way. He turned to a couch, which brought back the incident that occured day before yesterday. He shifted once more, this time to look at the faces of his hyungs, this again reminded him of the time they were so excited about the whole soulmate jamboree. 

Everything reminded Kim Rok Soo of Alberu, and he didn’t like it. No matter how hard he tried he could simply not forget the man. He had a striking appearance and a discernable mark on his life, despite them knowing each other for a day. 

They hadn’t met each other since Kim Rok Soo had moved here, which was 6 years ago. Well, that was partly Kim Rok Soo’s fault for thinking that it was too much work to meet his neighbours, and he just ended it with seeing his then 24-year-old neighbour, who was too busy with his work once. 

Now, he regretted his decision. If only he had met him earlier. If only he hadn’t ignored his neighbour. These thoughts were the only ones going through his head that night, as he kept on twisting and turning, before finally finding a comfortable position to sleep in.

***

Alberu got up to an undesired nostalgia of mahogany furniture and neatly lined bookshelves along with the scent of cookies permeating the room. It wasn’t dense but rather a soft scent, being accompanied by a denser scent of black coffee. 

What was strange, was the fact that there was no coffee in the vicinity, and he knew his aunt, much like him, leaned towards tea. He was a bit curious about the fragrance but didn’t want to give it much thought as his brain was more preoccupied with other means- Kim Rok Soo. 

How would he deal with him? 

Alberu was fully aware of what a jerk he was being. He knew that it had been very unfair of him to just straight up leave.

“Aunt Tasha-” he called out to the similar looking black haired woman, her eyes glistened. Her hair was cut short which gave her a gentle look. 

“Yes?” she answered with a hum.

“So…” he couldn’t help but fidget in worry, was he allowed to ask such a thing in the first place? He knew fully well that what his aunt was doing was for his best interests, for his sake. 

Yet, it bugged him. 

He wanted to see the other man desperately. 

It nagged at him. 

Like a gnawing frostbite that never seemed to go away. 

“Speak up, Alberu. You know I’m willing to listen so take your time.” 

Alberu looked at her, always supportive of him no matter what he wanted to do. Always watching, and he felt guilty about that.

Alberu gripped his arm, he told himself that he had to remain firm. This was just a simple and easy task, so what was he getting all anxious about?

“I think I found my soulmate,” Alberu blurted out, wanting to get it over with. It made him feel a bit too bizarre, a feeling he didn't enjoy. He thought a little about the man, his calming, and sarcastic attitude. It made him smile lovingly and softly, it was almost invisible.

When he saw Tasha’s eyes, his smile fell apart, she didn’t meet his eyes with the same gaze he did. Her face was instead painted with a base of shock, and another which was an even more unfavourable expression on it; outrage. 

One glance is all it took for Tasha to assess the situation. She had already been informed by Taerang about his leaked identity, which in itself had been surprising. Tasha could smell the coffee and cookies off her nephew. She didn’t know how it got there since they had no coffee at home, and she knew her nephew didn’t drink coffee, and buttered chocolate cookies. It would have been plausible if he hadn’t come out of the bedroom.

She knew what this meant, the boy had found his soulmate, but she also knew one thing– you could have problems with your past lover. It was like any relationship, simply adding in the strong connection. It wasn’t that big of a deal as people made it up to be.

After all, her sister had also been in a similar kind of relationship and she easily got replaced. Zed had simply thrown her away when he realized that his soul mark had appeared again. It was plausible that the bad luck might have carried from the mother to the son. Even though deep down, she was sure that wasn’t the case. She was worried, and terribly, terribly protective of her nephew, for he was the only one part of her sister that had remained in the world of the living. Being a soulmate had led to her sister’s heartbreak and eventual death, and perhaps it wouldn’t be as severe in Alberu’s case, but he had suffered enough after his mother’s death, she concluded. 

“You found a soulmate?” she asked, her expression now a bit less animated than her previous one, but Alberu could tell that she was not pleased one bit. 

He had a rough idea why but he wasn’t all that into the details. He was young when his mother and ‘father’ divorced, and he knew how his mother had committed suicide after a weeks of the unusual event. After that, he knew how his life had spiralled down to. She died without gaining custody of her child because Alberu’s talents had been noteworthy and rather eye-catching and Zed thought the boy would fetch a pretty price as a showpiece. 

He wasn’t wrong per se, but the exposure to the life of adults had dimmed his young eyes that had been previously filled with life. He had gotten used to going days without proper food and water, and that he wasn’t allowed anything as an emotional support. He wasn’t allowed to have a weakness, if he wanted to stay with his worth.

He had been locked, neglected, even abused if his scores or position went a bit under than perfect. Well, that was at first, then it escalated to him being the outsider of the ‘family’. 

Alberu had noted at the ripe age of eighteen, the people he lived with were hypocrites. In private they would always say the opposite of what they said under the public eye.

‘The shame of this house.’

‘The joy of our family.’

‘You dirty leech. Shouldn’t you be working non-stop? You live here rent free anyway.’

‘He’s always such a darling brother of mine. I simply worry that he works too hard for his own good.’

‘Disgusting. That skin of yours looks so ugly, maybe it’d be better if we got rid of it’

‘He looks so handsome too! He looks just like father, well his skin tone doesn’t matter.’

‘Don’t you get it? You don’t have a place here.’

‘Even though he looks different, he fits right in. Exactly, it's petty to not care about someone who shares the same blood as your sons just because they have a different skin tone.’

They weren’t memories he would want to remember at all, even though they constantly played on his mind like a broken record player. Constantly. 

That’s why he trusted his Aunt’s judgement, for she was the only one who had helped him get out of that hellhole. It was her acceptance that Alberu wanted the most.

Alberu nodded, in return to which Tasha’s unamusement became even more apparent with a long sigh. She was very reluctant to entrust her nephew in anyone’s hand, and the thought of him getting used made her boil over with rage, and so she simply cut off the communication between the two, by a few words, “Alberu, I don’t approve.”

***

Kim Rok Soo grumbled at the white noise that was playing on repeat in the background. He could hear the chattering that was going on between the two other men in the house. He laid on the makeshift bed until he heard a ringtone. A particular ringtone which made him sure of the person on the other line. 

‘Basen.’

He stretched his hand out to reach his phone, still remaining tucked in his blanket and refusing to move. By the third ring of the phone, he had successfully maneuvered himself in a way that he could stay comfortable and pick up the phone. He finally received it.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end greeted Kim Rok Soo. 

Kim Rok Soo, still groggy and voice still unsettled, spoke in a lower tone than his usual. It sounded synonymous to the croak of a frog, “Good morning Basen. What makes you call this early?”

Basen knew that tone belonged to his uncle, and he also knew that this was the tone of voice he had in the morning before he had even gotten up from bed. He’d found out so from the several sleepovers he had with him. Still it was odd to hear his voice this deep. Had his Ahjussi been drinking? “Uncle Rok Soo, how much did you drink last night?”

“Why do you ask?” Kim Rok Soo said, shuffling in the sheets, shifting his movements ever so slightly to stay within the warmth of the blanket that covered him up completely like a cocoon.

“Have you still not gotten up?” Basen asked, his tone a bit shocked.

Kim Rok Soo hummed to give an affirmative response.

Basen sighed, “Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s...” He slurred while reordering his position to face the clock. “Three.”

Basen sighed, his voice then went low as he turned his face away from his phone “Haaaa... What’s that Pen?” 

Kim Rok Soo’s ears perked up, “Pen’s there?”

He could hear Basen crack up a bit, “Uncle Rok Soo, you attended the wedding, didn’t you? We’re married, so of course we’re living together.”

Kim Rok Soo relaxed again remembering the joyous event that had taken place a month ago, “Ah, yeah yeah.”

Basen slid the phone between his ear and shoulder, “Uncle, are you still out of it?”

Kim Rok Soo twisted his head, cocking it out of the blanket. “Maybe,” he yawned. 

“Rok Soo-ya? You’re finally up?” Kim Rok Soo saw Lee Soo Hyuk standing in front of him. 

“Um, yeah.” Kim Rok Soo lazily replied. 

“Ah,” Basen said from the other end, “If Lee Soo Hyuk Ahjussi is there, why not give him the phone, and probably freshen up.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded and handed the phone to Lee Soo Hyuk, while informing the other person about his nephew, “It’s Basen, he wants to talk to you.”

Lee Soo Hyuk’s face quirked up to form a grin, “It’s been a long time since he’s talked to me, has he been busy with his lover?”

Kim Rok Soo looked over and casually answered,“Their honeymoon did get over a few weeks earlier. So it is a  possibility.”

Lee Soo Hyuk sighed while taking the phone from Kim Rok Soo, “Aiya, I really am getting old. Everyone around me is getting married or starting to date someone. Ah, the woes of an old man.”

He heard an annoyed voice from the far side of the kitchen, “Did you forget that you’ve been with your lover for over 15 years, Mr. old man?”

The mention of Lee Soo Hyuk’s lover made Kim Rok Soo think about his friend, “Ah, I need to talk about the details about the meeting with Beacrox.”

Lee Soo Hyuk turned to him, his head tilted to the right, “He has been talking about that too. Do you have something in mind for the day?”

Kim Rok Soo could feel the headache rushing over him like a tidal wave, “I'll talk later, I need to wash my face and brush.” 

“Oh wait, before you go-” Lee Soo Hyuk stopped him, causing Kim Rok Soo to turn, “You kinda smell like aloe vera? I didn’t know you kept any plants here?”

Kim Rok Soo pulled his t-shirt to sniff it, indeed, it smelled like the said succulent. He furrowed his eyebrows. It was odd, but it was too much for his woozy head to think about. 

He pulled himself out of the mattress and walked to the bathroom, lazily scratching his hay-like hair. His eyes lazily lolled around, scanning the surroundings of his own apartment as if it was something foreign. He sighed, standing there for a moment facing his reflection in the mirror. 

He ran his fingers through the messy strands that gently lay on the shoulder, remembering Alberu’s fingers cold touch. They were hardened and felt like they had been holding a pen their entire life, never wanting to try anything else, though Kim Rok Soo thought that Alberu merely never got the time to engage in hobbies. 

‘That’s not how hair gel works, hyung.’ 

He remembered the annoyed tone the man could endlessly fill his voice with. He splashed some water on his eyes, still wondering where the other had gone. It would be quite foolish to disappear if he were fearing rejection, if that is the reason the dark man had disappeared, he would think of the said man to be quite dense to not recognize Kim Rok Soo’s feelings towards himself.

***

Alberu tried to keep the volume down as he washed the dishes in the empty and eerily huge villa’s secluded kitchen. To be fair, it wasn’t empty, there were servants and Aunt Tasha was lounging in the living room. 

His mind was currently occupied with his aunt’s reaction.

He didn’t expect such a strong rejection since he believed his aunt would be a little more liberal towards this aspect. 

However, Alberu knew the reason why his aunt was overprotective since he was well aware of what happened to his mother. Sure, he understood why she didn’t want him to date Kim Rok Soo, but she also refused to acknowledge that his soulmate was different than his mother’s and it wasn’t fair to not give him a chance. Or at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Bitten once, twice as shy, I guess.’ He thought, sighing. 

He simply wanted to meet Kim Rok Soo, simply wanted to check something, a simple gut feeling. 

An instinct. 

Normally, he would have ignored it, but it was a sensation that he couldn’t help but dwell upon. It wasn’t gripping, more like a mild fever that had come over him. He thought that it was something that would easily go away and not bother him anymore, yet it stuck persistently, that it can’t help but get noticed no matter how much he tried to look the other way. 

It felt real and that scared Alberu. 

He didn’t hate the feeling of love. 

It was just that, he was so scared of being involved with it, that it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

The so-called love he knew was only based on the last sole affection he’s gotten from his mother. 

He believed that Kim Rok Soo wouldn’t be the kind of person to ‘love’ him. Alberu wasn’t the type to have gotten everything in his life in a neatly packaged bow, and that included his relationships all the more. 

Love? He couldn't trust it nor did he have the guts to risk letting the feeling take over him.

Any relationship he tried to maintain didn’t end on a good note, for numerous reasons. Even though his face wasn’t shown and he had a fake surname, his previous partners always knew he was rich. His arranged marriage partners thought of him as a mere money milking tool or someone who would just settle for just a crumb of bread. 

The idea of that appalled Alberu. Somehow he couldn’t think of it in a good light. He didn’t want to be the sort of person who would force someone to be with him just for his money.

If that was the case he was better off without anyone. 

But why was it that he couldn’t forget about him?

That man, who had seen him in his most vulnerable state had simply accepted it. Had waved off the thought that he was odd or unbelonging. He had given him the chance to feel these new sets of emotions he thought he would never experience in his lifetime.

Unbeknownst to Alberu, his hands were working fast and intensely out of all the stress. Only when he heard a loud clang was he snapped back to reality. His eyes immediately darted to the cause of the noise, which was a plate that had slipped from his hands and had fallen into the sink. 

Alberu stared at it for a bit, sighed and washed it. 

It was a good thing it didn’t break.

After neatly placing it in the dryer, he walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in the hall on the coach facing his aunt’s. 

She tore her eyes away from the book she was reading to face him. Tasha noticed the lost look in his eyes, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Alberu blinked, turning his gaze away from the table and meeting his aunt’s, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He said, picking up a book lying on the Pacini e Cappellini coffee table to read. 

Tasha sighed, sticking a bookmark between her copy of ‘War and Peace’, marking her progress in rereading the classic, “Are you still bothered by it?”

Alberu tried to feign ignorance, “By what?”

“We both know what you’re thinking about.” Tasha knew that he wouldn’t outright address the topic. He was far too self constricted with her for that.

Alberu met her eyes, but still had his eyes glazed over, it was as if he actually had no idea of what his aunt was talking about, “Like I said, what?”

Tasha however, was having none of that, she knew Alberu since he was a baby albeit she was young during those turbulent times. She motioned her hand as if she was pointing to the person in question, “Your soulmate, whoever that may be.” 

“Huh.” Alberu mused, making it painfully obvious for Tasha to tell he was unimpressed, “What about my soulmate?” 

Tasha, also aware of his current ‘yearnings’ spoke without batting an eye, “You want to meet them.”

“I sure do, but there’s someone who's preventing that, isn’t there?” He said, finally keeping his book down and sending his aunt a glare that was trying very hard not to reveal its true intentions.

Tasha got annoyed at the misconception Alberu had of her. She was doing this for him. How couldn’t he not get it?“ You know that I’m doing this for your sake. Your mother died because–”

“–Of her soulmate.” Alberu completed her sentence. He had heard it for so many times he was sure that was what the next few words entailed. He sighed.

“Aunt,” He said in a chilling voice, he was the closest to his aunt but there was definitely a line that shouldn’t be crossed. 

Not everything was about his mother. He was well aware how his mother’s death had unfolded but not everyone was like his father, not everyone was as egregious as that man. 

“I understand your concerns but do remember.” He paused to take a good look at his aunt, “I am not my mother,” he took another pause “and I never will be.” 

Alberu could never be his mother. His mother was pure, and charismatic, not to mention she was the incarnation of beauty itself. Never attempting any foul means, she tried hard. She died protecting him. 

And he could never be, not even an inch close to being as great as her. Or so he believed.

Tasha looked the other way, “I know that…but it still scares me. What if they lose interest in you and desert you–”

Alberu sighed again. The next few words he had said out of the simple motivation to prove Tasha wrong about soulmates, and snag a lover in one quick move. “Alright, since you are so bothered by the fact that they’ll cheat on me or lose interest. Let me put forward the idea of a bet. I’ll not visit my soulmate for two months and after those two months, let’s see whether they get over me in that period of time.” ‘–well formally, I won’t be meeting him.’

Alberu thought about it for a moment. He would use himself and Kim Rok Soo as an experiment. He set a bet like that out of impulse to prove her wrong. Even though he wouldn’t mind if he had really moved on, a part of him wanted to know the outcome to all this as well.

If fate would really allow them to be together, or would it be another curse that had befallen since his mother’s time? 

Would things be different?

He didn’t know the answer to that. That was why he did this. That was why he made this stupid bet to at least convince himself that it was alright for him to love, or just have believed in his Aunt’s words in the first place.

Alberu was not the type to easily trust people but this time he wanted to try.

He wanted to try and place a bit of his faith on that man.  

Tasha, who was also right at the end of her wits from this conversation, agreed in a fit of confusion and annoyance with the flow of the conversation, wanting it to end, “Ok, fine. Let’s do just that. When should we start?”

Alberu asked, also getting riled up, “How about right this second?”

Tasha leaned back, “Alright then. For 2 months which start at 5pm December 8th, 2XXX until 5pm February 8th, 2XXX(+1). Deal?”

“Deal.” 

“Ok then. Taerang, write this down.” Tasha crossed her arms together, her eyes still lingering at her nephew who broke eye contact.

“Yes ma’am.” The mostly stationary man, who had been sitting on the chair beside Alberu finally spoke.

‘Now that this was sorted,’ thought Alberu, ‘I have to contact him, I guess. Hoo boy, this is gonna be a whole different game to play.’

[elizabeethan]

Watch The Sunlight Fade: 3 / 18

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: You may have noticed a chapter count! It’s subject to change, but I’ve outlined the whole story and have written halfway through chapter 12, so we’re getting there, friends. Reminder to check warnings and tags and message me if you have questions. There will be depictions of violence, domestic violence, very very brief discussions of non-con (kind of) and psychological abuse throughout this story.

Rated M

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Read on Ao3

~~~~

The door to his apartment slams behind her as she stumbles in, the alcohol in her veins obviously taking over as he helps to steady her. “Easy,” he warns, hand on her waist as he guides her towards the guest room. 

 “You’re not gonna let me stay in bed with you, big guy?” she slurs, giving him a flirty smile. 

 “No, love,” he answers softly. “You need rest.”

 With a giggle, she answers, “I get paid to have sex with people. Shouldn’t you be flattered that I’m soliciting you?”

 “Tink,” he laughs, “I am very flattered. But you need to go to bed.”

 “I can still give you a good time even though I’m drunk, you know,” she promises, letting her fingers dance along the lapels of his jacket. 

 “I know that, love. I just think… perhaps it’s time to… bring this arrangement to a close.”

She pouts, her bottom lip popping out and her brows furrowing. “Something I said?” she asks. 

 With a slight shake to his head, he smiles shyly down at her and brushes a wayward strand of her honey locks out of her eye. “No, but perhaps we can finish this tomorrow morning when you’re sober?”

 Tink shrugs, letting her heavy kids fall closed and turning around to stumble down the hall. “It’s okay,” she says as she finds the doorknob. “I know it’s that blonde girl.”

 “Liv…” he starts, although he isn’t sure where he’s going as he begins to speak. It’s not the blonde girl, not really. Although he felt a connection to her from the moment he saw her, he also knows that his and Tink’s fling is just that: a fling. It can’t last, and while he likes her well enough, he thinks it unfair to continue on with something to which he isn’t fully dedicated. “It’s not you.” 

 She snorts and nods her head lazily, letting it flop a bit too freely on her neck. “It’s not you, it’s me. I get it.” 

 “Hey,” he tries again, giving her a soft smile as he tucks away the same defiant strand of her hair. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that. I’ll always have love for you.”

 “Yeah,” she smiles with a soft blush, her lids looking heavier and heavier with each passing moment. “I love you, too, bud. It was probably a bad idea to sleep with your best friend anyway.” 

 “I’m not sleeping with Robin,” he deadpans, knowing with certainty that it’ll draw a hearty laugh from her. She pushes against his shoulder with more force that she was likely expecting and turns around to open the door to his guest room. 

 “You dolt.” Once she’s in the room, just as she’s about to shut the door behind her, she spins quickly to face him once more. “By the way, you’re a total idiot if you go after her.” 

 “Bloody hell, not you too,” he complains as he scratches behind his ear. 

 “She belongs to Cassidy and you know it. You know what’ll happen if you pursue her.” 

 “Aye, that’s why I have no intention of doing so. Now, go to bed, Olivia.” 

 “Ooh,” she fakes a shudder, “full name; I must've been naughty.” 

 “Aye, you were. Goodnight, love.” 

 “Night, KJ.” 

 He listens to her giggle as she stumbles through the room, one she’s stayed in countless times before. She’s right; they probably never should’ve started their affair in the first place. Sleeping with your best friend is bound to end badly. But they understand each other, each of them here with hardly a choice on whether they stay or go. It isn’t as if they’re being held against their will, but the implication is that they’ll seriously regret it if they try to leave, one way or another. They simply both took comfort in knowing that someone else felt as they did. 

 He’s about to go to bed himself, ready to rid himself of the guilt that came along with the events of the day, but he pauses as he walks by his front door just in time to hear a resounding thud coming from across the hall. He panics and swings his own door open when he hears the terrified cry in response. He heard something earlier today that sounded exactly like that terrified cry. 

 Rushing over to Neal’s apartment, he places his hand on the knob and presses his ear to the door. He doesn’t want to burst in with haste since he has no idea what he actually heard, and the door must be locked anyway. But he can’t help but recall the image of her pressed to the door looking horrified, two knives on either side of her throat. He can’t get the look in her eyes out of his head. 

 There aren’t anymore sounds resonating from the apartment, silence falling over him as he attempts to listen out for signs of trouble. After a moment, all he hears are soft, painful sobs coming from the other side of the door. 

 ~~~~

 It’s surprisingly even more terrifying to be in the shop during the day than it was at night. At least when she was here last night, the shadows kept the frightening details of the space hidden, but now that the sun is up and streaming through the small basement windows, she’s able to see too much. 

 She can see the aged and worn paint on the walls, giving her an automatic and infallible feeling of unease. She can see the decorative weapons proudly displayed on every inch of every wall. She can see the rugged violence on each of the men’s faces so clearly in the sunlight. Being here terrifies her. 

 “Morning, Miss Swan,” Peter greets as Neal leads her into the large meeting room. He’s already sitting at the table waiting for them, Gold at his right and two empty seats to his left. There are several other members at the table as well, and she can’t help but notice how bright Killian’s eyes look in the sun streaming through the windows. “Welcome to your first real family meeting.” 

 The others around the table laugh, everyone but Jones seeming to find his joke about her near death experience to be funny. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Neal asks in her ear, his voice low and his teeth clearly clenched. 

 She clears her throat and gives Peter the fakest smile she can muster. “Good morning.”

 “That’s a good lass,” he praises, setting free a flock of anxious butterflies in her stomach. “Come sit. We saved you a seat by Neal.” 

 They sit side by side, and it’s becoming easier and easier to question his ranking within the group of men at the table. She finds it impossible to see him as a simple lackey when his name is carved into the table in intricate lettering in front of his chair, directly to the left of Peter's seat at the head. 

 There are talks of their plans, and she gathers some information easily while they seem to go to great lengths to keep other things hidden from her based on the threatening glances Peter doles out from time to time. There’s a trip coming up, and it’s automatically assumed that Neal will be going with Peter and Gold will be staying behind, as if this arrangement was made and agreed upon a lifetime ago. Once the other attendees are determined, Peter turns to face her and gives her a smile. 

 “Now, a job for you, my dear. Neal tells us you have a talent in finding people.” 

 “She can find anyone,” Neal says proudly, referring to her short stint as a bail bondsperson back when she lived in Boston. When she had met Neal after he witnessed her taking down a skip, he took her under his wing and told her she didn’t have to live such a dangerous lifestyle anymore. “Well, almost anyone.” 

 Her stomach flips at his hint; at his willingness to bring up one of the most painful memories she has. She’s great at finding people, but in 25 years, she still hasn’t been able to find her parents. 

 Pan hums. “We can look past a few failed attempts. What we need from you now, Emma, is your skillset to find a certain someone who deserted our cause.”

 She gulps. “You want me to hunt down someone who doesn’t agree with you?” 

 “No love,” he laughs, and Neal’s grip on her hand tightens just a notch. “I want you to find someone who has valuable information and won’t hesitate to hand it over to a rival.” Emma bites her lip in thought, concern likely colored across her face. She hadn’t considered the existence of a rival gang before this moment, and she becomes frightened to think of there being more than one set of men like them. The thought that another gang is out there and considers themselves rivals to The Lost Boys means she’s potentially putting herself in even more danger by becoming associated with them. What will another gang do to the girlfriend of one of their rival’s members, especially a member whom she suspects is higher up in the rankings than he’s letting on? 

 “It’s not lost on me that you’re feeling uncomfortable here, Emma. The tension between you and Neal is perfectly palpable. But I’d implore you to let go of your fears; no one here will harm you. We’re here to protect you. By simply being associated with Neal, you have the protection of everyone in this club. And I’m sure it makes perfect sense that we would expect something of you in return for our unquestioning devotion to your safety.” 

 Although something about his words makes her suspicious, she suddenly feels a sense of strength at his claim that she’s a part of the group now. It’s as if he’s telling her that her thoughts and opinions matter, so she makes a bold choice and speaks up. “Can I clarify something?” she asks. 

 “Of course.” 

 “What are you protecting me from, exactly?” 

 Peter smirks and shakes his head, giving Neal a look that she can’t quite read. “I suppose Neal hasn’t informed you of how dangerous a place this world can be for a woman like you, Miss Swan. Your love for Neal makes you a target, as does Neal’s love for you. By falling for him, you’ve also fallen into our world. And because we’re so devoted to what you have to offer, we will protect you from everyone who may want to hurt Neal.” 

 “Just because I can find people pretty easily?” she asks doubtfully. His explanation isn’t making any sense to her. She can’t rectify in her head how loving Neal can equate to requiring constant protection, especially based on his claim that he’s going to be leaving soon. 

 “No, Emma,” he laughs condescendingly, as if he were talking to a child who couldn’t handle the truth. She wonders if he’s right. “Worry not; all will make sense to you as time goes by. For now, let's get started with your first assignment. Hook, show the lady to her office.” 

 ~~~~

 “Most sites are blocked here,” he explains as he powers up the old desktop, groaning softly as he stands again. “You’ll likely run into trouble if you try to find him on Facebook or anything.” 

 “Why?” she asks, and although she immediately regrets opening her mouth, the look he gives her feels more amused than anything. 

 “Why?” 

 “Um… why are they blocked?” 

 He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and looking away from her once he notices that the computer has booted up. “To keep you out of trouble, I suppose.” 

 She bites her bottom lip, squeezing her fists until she feels the sting of her nails digging into her palm. She isn’t sure that, in the last day since she’s come here, she’s been kept out of trouble at all. She’s been in trouble-- in danger-- since she heard those bikes pulling up behind her and Neal. 

 “Right,” she says softly, sarcastically, and again, she kicks herself for opening her mouth. She wonders what would have happened to her by now if she was with anyone but Jones in this moment. 

 “Love,” he starts, his voice soft and tender, and she almost wonders if he intends to step close to her. Perhaps he means to comfort her. “I’m--” he clears his throat, “If you need anything…” 

 Their eyes meet, and it’s like the first time again. His azure stare bores into her in a way that makes her shudder, but not out of fear this time. She feels seen, understood, and while it’s only been a day since her traumatic greeting from the club, it feels like a lifetime since she’s felt a sense of safety. It feels comforting to meet his gaze, and she suddenly lets her breathing steady and her heart rate settle. “Thank you,” she whispers genuinely. She isn’t sure how she could relay it to him if she does need something, but the way he looks at her tells her that he’ll know. 

 For the first time since she’s been here, her safety appears to be a priority to someone. Relief washes over her and she lets it, despite knowing that it will dissipate the moment he walks out the door.

 ~~~~

 “How’s it goin’ in here, my little worker bee?”

 She looks up from the computer she’s been staring at, met by Neal leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed. The dinosaur she’s working on is hardly functioning, most sites she’s tried blocked and inaccessible and the speed at which it loads each page almost painful. After almost a week of working on the assignment they’ve given her, she’s found almost nothing.

 “Hi,” she mumbles, turning back to the screen. All they had given her was a name and a last known location, and she’s struggling to find more.

 “Doing alright?”

 “I can’t find much,” she says. 

 “You’ll find him; you’re smart. I wonder if that’s genetic,” he says with a laugh and a smirk in her direction. She isn’t sure what he means or how to respond, so she simply smiles somewhat awkwardly and moves on. She refuses to let herself wonder if this is another dig at her for being parentless. 

 “It just feels impossible. This guy, Graham… are you sure he even exists?” she jokes. 

 He laughs, but it’s forced and she doesn't detect a genuine smile. “Are you doubting Peter?” 

 Emma looks up at him, meeting his eyes with confusion colored in her own. “No,” she starts, although she isn’t sure if she’s being truthful in her answer. “It’s just…”

 Neal shoves away from the door and slinks closer to her, bending at his knees and squatting until his eyes meet her level. “Ems,” he starts, his hand landing on hers and applying what she thinks is meant to be a comforting amount of pressure. “Don’t start.” 

 “What…?” 

 He groans and leans away from her. “It's not a damn secret that you aren’t happy to be here. I need you to be better about that.” 

 She lets her jaw hang open for a bit longer than she means to, shock taking over her as he confirms what she’s been suspecting since the meeting she attended. “Neal,” she starts, “you’re the one who said you want to get out. You said we could leave after a few weeks.” 

 “And?” 

 “Uh… and… it’s been a week and you don’t seem like you’re… I mean… it seems like you're happy here.” 

 “So what?” 

 “What do you-- so what? You said we were leaving and now it’s like they're your family!” 

 Neal stands quickly, spinning from her in exasperation as he thrusts his hands into his hair. “You’re being so-- stop judging me! What do you even have to complain about?! They’re being nothing but nice to you. You have a home now, I feed you, I love you, we protect you… I don’t get what your damn problem is!” 

 “The knives, Neal!” she shouts, unable to hold back the emotional response to his nonsensical claims. “You threw knives at my head!” 

 There's a loud smack against the desk she sits at, and she’s brought back to the reality of her experience and out of the false sense of control that she let herself believe she had. She has to force herself to move on from the thought that she and Neal are able to have a conversation. When she looks down to where his hand met the surface, she sees his gun held beneath his palm. She pales. 

 “It’s time to move on,” he hisses quietly, his voice taking over the silence of the room. It’s another threat. Another convenient way to show her that he has power over her. That he can take everything away from her, even her life, in a second if she gives him a reason to. “You weren’t in danger, baby,” he says, his voice more soothing this time, drawing from her that feeling again. The feeling that she’s overreacting. “I had it under control, remember?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

 She sighs heavily at the feeling of his lips tracing along her jaw until he reaches her neck. “You did?” she asks weakly. With his sudden change in demeanor, his obvious desire not to make her feel unsafe anymore, she feels something shift between them. 

 “Of course I did; don’t be stupid. You know I did.” 

 It feels good, she lets herself realize. As her eyes slip closed and a soft breath escapes her lips, she makes herself relax into his touch. With her sense of sight cut off, she feels herself giving in to his touch in favor of feeling some sense of relaxation after a week of hypervigilance. His rough stubble scratches at her skin, something she normally doesn’t like, but right now, she doesn’t think she minds too much. With her eyes shut, the rest of the world closed off from her mind, she thinks she could appreciate some stubble. 

 She feels the smooth leather of his sleeve under her fingertips and she likes it. Sure, she’s always thought the leather jackets were sexy, but here and now, something about him in it becomes more appealing. But when his hand creeps up her waist, his touch a bit too rough, too domineering, she flinches. 

 “Shh,” he hisses softly, attempting to soothe her. “It’s alright.” 

 At the sound of his voice, something snaps within her and she stiffens. It sounds wrong, she realizes. “Wait,” she murmurs as his hand creeps under her shirt. 

 He breathes out a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously?”

 “I just,” she starts, nervous as he pushes away. “We’re… I mean, we’re here.” She gestures around the room, hopeful that her discomfort at the thought of sleeping with him in this office where anyone could walk in is clear. 

 “Right. So when we get home, you’ll be more than willing?” he asks doubtfully, rolling his eyes. 

 “Neal,” she begs softly, unsure of where she went wrong. She’s unsure of how she could have messed this up when she was the one to express her own discomfort. “Please.” 

 “Please,” he mimics, his voice rising in pitch. “I’ll see you in a week.” 

 With that, confusing words exchanged between them, he’s out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

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[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Abort?”

Happy Tuesday guys, I hope you are all enjoying your week. Forgive me any mistakes I make here as I only have a few hours to write before work, and I am usually in a rush.

“Both of you get your suits back on.”

“What the hell is going on!” Richards demanded 

Adam took a deep breath, “Captain Richards that was not an opening for a discussion, that was an order. Now put the damn suit on, or I swear I will knock you out and do it myself. The three of them were floating in the module staring at each other, hands resting against what must have been no more than a few millimeters of aluminum. 

He stared at them, and they stared back.

Adam did not break eye contact willing the two willing them to do as they were told. Chavez was the first to move, hurrying over to her space suit and struggling to pull it on in a near panic as bright lights flashed from outside. Inside his heart was pounding but he tried to remain calm for the two standing before him.

He hurried over to help Chavez pull on her gear, finally sealing the helmet in place as Richards finally moved to do the same.

Adam helped pull the hard torso over the man’s head and link it to the waist before helping him pull on his gloves and, eventually the helmet. Before he let go, he kept hold of Richards by either side of the helmet staring at him through the glass, “I promise, if you listen to me, I will keep you safe.”

He kept eye contact with the other man until Richards finally nodded, and Adam let him go to float over and put on his own suit. His hands were steady, for now, but he knew as soon as the crisis was over he'd be shaking like a leaf.

If he survived.

He gritted his teeth, cursing himself for thinking like that. He was Admiral VIr for crying out loud. He had survived far too much to go and die now. He returned to the helm of the command module as he looked out the thick window at the lights flashing on either side of them. Despite the war that was raging around them, everything seemed so strangely quiet. There was no sound no rumbling, not even a vibration as one of the jets flew past.

Despite being at the controls of the vehicle, there was nothing he could do. They only had a certain amount of fuel to get them to the lunar surface, and if he wasted any of it at all, they would be either caught in orbit, or miss the moon entirely.

He had to keep his cool.

Another bright burst of light lit the window to his right. This one was closer this time.

His heart leaped up into his throat.

Richards and Chaves joined him buckling into their seats.

“What is going on.” Richards demanded again, his mike distant and tinny with the sound of very old technology.

“I believe anti alliance forces are attempting to assassinate me. They have been trying for months now, and I think they are being encouraged by very powerful members of  the government.”

They watched as another set of ships zoomed past.

He saw a flash of a silhouette, just enough to know that one of them was a thunderhawk and the other was a silver Rundi drone.

It confirmed his worst fears. The Chairwoman had been behind this the whole time.

***

Red nearly collided with the rocket. The Thunderhawk had pulled up the last minute, but he had almost been too late. He jerked the stick to the side, throwing up his wing ust in time to avoid hitting the rocket as it made it’s slow way through space. He dove down on the other side forced to break off pursuit and cut in front of another thunderhawk coming in from above. He made to look like he was going to ram them, playing a dangerous game of chicken which he won at the last second as the other pilot panicked and cut to the left.

There were too many of them. Only five out of the original twenty had been destroyed, and he and the rest of their pilots were busy just keeping  the thunderhawks away from the rocket, much less to have any time of firing at them.He had sent one of his people down to earth and one of them off towards the moon for backup. The moon was still hours away yet, so the hope that some help would be sent from them was unlikely, and even the man he had sent down to earth’s surface was cutting it close.

He didn’t have much hopes that they would be able to hold out that long.

Inside the cockpit his  warning lights began to blink and blair as one of the other jets got a lock on hi. He rolled right to avoid them and dove down, cutting off the lock but still being pursued by those behind him. Up ahead he saw one of the silver balls erupt into flames as it was targeted by an expert hit from one of the thunderhawk pilots.

He rolled right.

Someone else rolled left. He cut up just in time to avoid being hit and raced forward to cut off another bird that was heading directly towards the rocket.

***

Eris hurried down the hallway, her knees screaming as she did her very best to sprint, but despite her human anatomy, she was a little too much like a starborn.  With a cry of frustration she reached up and tore off her hoodie, throwing it to the ground and engaging her anti gravity belt. The ribbons on her back billowed out behind her.

Light spilled in from the windows on either side of the catwalk she was now on, filling her with a buzzing energy that she could feel radiating through the ribbons like electricity. She knew from her study of starborn that they could travel at thousands of miles an hour in the vacuum of  space, especially when under the power of a star. She didn’t think she needed to go THAT fast, but anything would be better  than what she was doing now.

As if in response to her will, she suddenly began to glide forward, picking up speed as she swooped towards the end of the hall, wind catching her in the face and roaring along her cheeks. WIth her starborn skin, she barely felt a thing as she raced around the corner and out of the waiting door. Two men dressed in military ACUs dived to the side as she blew past them crying out in alarm and confusion as the “Alien” floated by.

Somewhere distantly, she could sense Conn racing in the opposite direction towards the  base.

Sunny and captain kelly had Admiral Massie in their custody and were dragging him out into the hallway.

She blew across the open ground her ribbons snapping and billowing behind her as she did. She didn’t even have time to imagine what she looked like as she roared over the open field and towards  the waiting news vans which were just beginning to pack up their things. They were close to leaving, but she set out a sharp hard telepathic pulse ordering them to stop.

Compelling them to stop.

They froze in their tracks and looked up to see her coming.

Someone scrambled to turn on their camera, not sure what was going on but sure it had to be something good.

She tried not to think about what they would see as the camera flared to life following her approach.

“Make us live.” She ordered 

The news people glanced between each other in confusion, “But no, we aren;t”

“What are-”

She came to a sudden jolting stop before them, her billowing black hair fanning out behind her like a curling halo.

“I said, put us on air.”

This time the telepathic pulse was too strong to resist. Mostly that pair with the fact that none of them were sure they wanted to resist. She was too interesting to pass up. They hurried to do what they were doing, and Eris was given just enough time to feel nervous before the camera was turned to her.

They were live.

She read it in the minds of those behind camera who she cut off as she began to speak, “Citizens of Earth, there has been a horrible conspiracy against you. The UN president has ordered the assasination of Admiral Adam Vir  and has continually attempted to sabotage the mission. Just now General massie was taken into custody after ordering the deployment of twenty thunderhawks to harass the rocket and make its destruction look like some sort of collision with space debris.”

The group gawked at her as she raised her hand with the small silver device and began playing the recording. She knew something like this would never be admissible in court. She was pretty sure it would be considered entrapment of some kind, which is why it must be heard now, before everyone, so that the actions of the president could be judged by a jury of the world where it could not be hidden by political machinations.

“Communications have been lost with Apollo 11. And it is….. Well…. It is likely that he is already dead…..” Her voice broke, “No matter what happens, I need you, and this nation to understand what is happening before it gets swept under the rug. I saw it with my own eyes, heard it with my own ears and experienced their meeting in the thoughts of a man who is both xenophobic and hateful to his own humankind.”

She kept talking trying to give them all the information she could, spilling thoughts she had heard in the head of the UN president. Every meeting, every liaison, every name until her voice was beginning to crack.

***

The UN president was just standing to enter her vehicle when a slow muttering began in the crowd behind her. SHe turned as the ground before her went silent. She watched as a wave ran through the people. A wave of nudging and whispering and showing off news feeds they had pulled up on their wrist implants. It wasn’t long before the entire crowd was either staring down at their arms or clustered around someone else for viewing.

“What is going on.” She wondered turning to one of her men who was staring down at her own wrist.

“Madame president?” He said with a look of confusion.

She could hear it now.

“Her and general massie have ordered members of the UNSC to adjust funds in order to hide the twenty thunderhawks they were squirting away for just such an event.” She hurried forward grabbing the secret serviceman by the arm staring at it as she watched the streaming newsfeed and the freaky white alien with the large dark eyes and flowing black hair.

“She is afraid of aliens, she wishes to isolate and eventually use humanity’s superior forces to overtake trade in the galaxy-”

The muttering behind her had turned into an angry grumbling, and she turned to see the eyes of hundreds hat turned towards her. 

“Get me out of here.” She hissed 

The Secret Serviceman took a step back with a look of confusion and indecision on his face.

“It’s your job.” he snarled 

He just stared at her. 

She hurriedly ran over to her car as the crowd began to filter in around them pressing close. A few of the secret service men pulled guns but a large majority of them were frozen with indecision and were taken over by the crowd. She scrambled into the back seat of her vehicle and slammed the door shut screaming at the driver to get moving.

The crowd was surrounding them now pounding at the glass.

She could hear their angry voices raised for her to be heard behind bullet proof glass.

Outside, she watched a lone figure step onto the platform where the lectern was and stare at her with it’s beady black eyes. The Chairwoman of the GA stood over the crowd like it’s filthy alien lord.

And even though Rundi could not smile, she could swear it was smiling.

***

Baby K hit a rough patch of turbulence coming down from the atmosphere. She struggled with the controls as she was thrown left and right inside the cockpit of her rickety shuttle. Donovan red had ordered her down here to grab the UNSC, but she was so scared and full of adrenaline that she had dropped it at too steep an angle. The ride was much bumpier than it was supposed to be, and her teeth were rattling inside her head.

“Unidentified vessel, you have crossed into UNSC airspace, identify yourself or be destroyed.”

She scrambled for her communications, but her fingers felt as stiff as wood as she scrambled for the button.

“I repeat, unidentified vessel, you have entered UNSC airspace, you are ordered to identify yourself or be destroyed.”

She slammed her first into the comms button nearly panicking, “UNSC.” Her voice was rattling, “This is B-baby K, and I….. The Apollo 11 is under attack!” she was breathless as she forced the words out.

There was silence over the coombs, “Say again.”

“Apollo 11 is under attack!”

More silence, “Roger that.”

Two jets pulled up to the side of her, those she recognized as two F-90 Darkfires.

One of them adjusted its angle and cut engines before switching to the fusion engine that rocketed it up and out of site.

The other stayed for a moment, “Unidentified vessel, please land on UNSC base airstrip one.” Before turning and following it’s comrade.

***

Conn raced towards the airstrip feeling the wind in the ribbons at his back. He couldn’t go nearly as fast as he wanted too with air resistance . Wythe hell did Adam always have to get into so much trouble, why did he always have to be the center of attention.

Everyone either hated him or loved him, but the problem was people who hated him also wanted to kill him.

Why did he have to be so controversial?

Why did he have to be hated for something that was such a big deal. Why couldn't he be hated for having controversial political opinions . Conn paused.

On second thought, controversial political opinions were kind of what had gotten them here in the first place, so he guessed that was kind of a useless comparison. How about being the kind of guy who liked to talk too much about fishing. That was a great way to make people hate you for being boring, but it didn’t usually mean that people wanted to kill you.

Maybe they could get the man a hobby doing something that wasn’t  so controversial. 

Like 

Kicking small Animals or.

Cannibalism.

He came roaring to the stop at the edge of the airfield ust in time to watch an entire platoon of pilots racing towards jets. He could hear their minds and looked up to see a rather dinky shuttle descending from the sky. He floated forward towards one of the jets as a pilot leaped inside.

He was going to need a ride.

The pilot turned to look at him but Conn just shook his head.

The pilot decided to ignore him in the confusion and Conn Grabbed on tight.

Starborn he had come to learn were a very interesting species in comparison to others. Vertically as from the top down he was very fragile and likely to break his neck or collapse his spine if there was any undue pressure, but with horizontal forces, he was practically indestructible. Below him the ship roared to life and soon they were gathering speed along the runway.

His grip was tight, and he used the extra energy from his ribbons to sped himself up along with the jet to reduce the pull on his arms.

His brip wasn’t that strong.

They went vertical almost immediately, and he made sure to orient his body in the correct direction as they went hurtling into the sky.

***

Red’s right wing had been hit. If there had been atmosphere around him he would have been a goner, but there was no air resistance here, so once he regained control of his roll, he pulled back into position  and fired one last shot as the opportunity arose. The sixth thunderhawk was destroyed in an eruption of debris, which he dodged only with difficulty limping without the aid of the maneuvering jet on the end of his one wing. Things were only speeding up now, the Runid were almost gone and the pressure was being laid thick on his people. They were hard to hit but the pursuit made it almost impossible for them to do any real maneuvering of their own. He was almost hit again as another darkfire sped underneath him. They rolled this way and that rocking from one side to the other. Flying through debris and over strips of silver metal.

Below them the earth hung as a clowning orb.

Red cut in a wide circle coming in with the sun at his back using it to blind one of the enemy darkfires as he came in. he watched the group of them form up suddenly as a ring around the slow moving rocket intending quite certainly to rush it all at once. He screamed into the comm trying to order his men around, but it was going to be too late, he could already see it coming.

The jets rushed forward, and he did too screaming inside his helmet as they went to broadside Apollo 11.

And then with all the silence of space, sixteen F-90 Dark Fires came spitting overhead all at once raining down a line of ordinance that cut through the group of unsuspecting thunderhawks. Space around them was filled with a silent explosion as each and every one of them was ripped to shreds.

All except one.

He saw it at the last moment.

It had been hit in the tail and had gone wildly off course.

It turned sideways, but had just enough force….. For its wing to tear straight through the aluminum siding of the rocket.

Chavez and Richards had been ordered to strap into their seats. Adam had taken it upon himself to lock down the rest of the main cabin. Outside the flashing lights were like a fireworks display without sound. He grabbed onto one of the rails, forcing equipment back into the palace so that if anything happened it wouldn’t fly out.

His legs were kicked up behind him as he floated forward reaching for some of the controls as a sudden bright wash of light filtered in through the windows. He heard a scream over his com, and then the air around him was rent with a horrific tearing noise, which suddenly went silent. There was a rush, and he jerked forward as he was sucked back….. And out of the ship entirely.

His hands and legs kicked and flailed  as he tried to right himself, hearing his own breathing as the only sound as he watched the rocket begin to spin debris erupting around him as air, and whatever wasn’t strapped down was sucked through the small opening.

The rocket was spinning wildly, he was spinning wildly in a silent abyss. Grunting against the force of his spin, he reached down for the controls to the CO2 canister built into the pack of his spacesuit.

He groaned not sure which way was up or down or back. He tried to right himself against the spin by firing in the opposite direction to slow his spin.he could see the rocket now spinning in the opposite direction with the sudden loss of oxygen. He hoped the other astronauts were ok. He saw the silhouette of a jet fly past in the distance making its way towards the spinning rocket.

At least there was someone here to help.

Maybe the others would survive-

And then he stopped, coming to a confusing halt in the middle of space.

That shouldn’t have been right. He should have kept going forever. He tried turning his head, but he felt like the pillsbury doughboy in this two thousand year old suit. 

What was happening 

“Did you miss me.”

Well shit, now he sort of wished he could keep spinning.

There was a tugging on the outside of his suit, and Conn floated into view in front of his helmet.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“You are probably the last person I wanted to see.” he said though he didn’t entirely mean it, and unfortunately Conn knew that too the mindreading asshole that he was.

I could hardly let the father of my child go spinning off into space without taking accountability for his family.”

“Shove it up your ass Conn.”

“No really, not even the vacuum of space is going to save you from your responsibilities. Now, about custody, I was thinking you could have every other weekend  and a couple of major holidays”

He gave a ruful sort of smile as Conn grabbed him by the life support pack and started floating them towards the rocket, which the F-90s had somehow managed to slow the spin of the rocket, and pull it back on course with grappling magnets.

All around them space was filled with debris. No more darkfires were present and those that were were quickly being grappled. One sleek racing jet slowly cruises past them. One of its wings was damaged, but whoever was inside waved with one hand  as he rolled past.

Adam lifted a hand as Conn brought him the last few hundred feet to the torn opening in the side of the ship, allowing him to step through.

Conn patted him on the side of the helmet, “make sure to be home by dinnertime sweetie.” Before blowing him a kiss and vanishing back out the hole.

Adam floated there a bit nonplussed for a moment before turning back to the front of the ship where Chaves and Richards were still strapped into their seats. He floated over to strap himself in.

“Admiral! You’re ok.”

“Yes, it seems that I am, thanks to a….. Friend of mine.”

Just then Conn appeared again just before their right side window, and like the classy gentlemen that he was began rubbing his butt up against the glass.

He sighed, “Friend is kind of stretching it.”

“Apollo 11 this is Houston, do you copy!”

The man on the other end of the line sounded close to tears, and Adam hurried to respond, “Houston this is Apollo 11.”

On the other side he thought he heard the sound of voices cheering in relief.

“What is your status, over.”

“We are a bit beat up Houston, we have a tear in our hull, but our suits are ok, and we have help.”

“Prepare to abort mission.”

Adam frowned, “Now wait a second there Houston, I didn’t get sucked out the side of my own rocket to just quit now. Tell the boys to come up here and patch us up and we can finish the mission. All systems are still functioning, and we are back on course.” he glanced over at the others, “That is, if the crew wants to continue.”

There was a pause and then Chavez timidly piped in, “I’d be ok with that.”

Richards sighed, “Roger Houston, patch us up.”

Granted it may have been cheating. Apollo 11 hadn’t had support with special tools that cold just patch a space ship within ten minutes, but then again the original Apollo 11 hadn’t been in the middle of a firefight while on their journey to the moon. So it was with some trepidation that Houston allowed it, and before long they had air back inside the cabin back up to pressure, but they also had a sixteen man rotating escort for the rest of the way.

The group of them were even shocked to see Rundi drones join the formation only to learn that it had been the UN president who had allegedly called the hit on him. It was hard to believe, but they were only getting snippets here and then from over radio and from Conn, who floated around occasionally to rub another part of his anatomy against the window and give them teasing updates

The moon was growing slowly in their vision.

“I can see my house from here.” Adam remarked as they prepared to detach the lunar module from the rest of the ship.

They landed without incident observed by mobile camera crews  and news reporters as he made his own footprint on the never changing dust of the moon’s surface. He gave them a thumbs up to let them know he was fine and hesitated only once before setting up the UN flag in the dirt. He refused to let his enthusiasm be dampened by the day’s events and hopped around dancing and leaping for joy as another one of his childhood dreams was fulfilled. That was before he plowed face first into the moon’s surface and required help from Richards to stand back up again.

They left soon after taking another three days of escort back to earth before strapping themselves in for final entry. 

Conn left them just as they were entering orbit with a middle finger for all three of them.

“Your friend is super delightful isn’t it.’

“Try having a child with him.” Adam muttered refusing to elaborate even as they stared at him in confusion.

They fell from the sky and landed somewhere in the Pacific ocean, picked up by the waiting navy vessel who was within nine miles of their landing site. They were fished from the water and returned safe and sound to the ship to cheers and cameras. Adam’s legs felt a little like jelly after days of not using them, and he was finally able to relax lying on the deck of the ship under the sun as people ran around them on either side.

His hands shook slowly building up after the stress of the last week. He took long deep breaths and closed his eyes.

The next few days were going to be a real shit show.

[artemis-entreri]

Joining the crowd of " I admire your endurance " wrt keeping up with the Drizzt saga. For me the 'Vengeance of the Iron dwarf ' was the straw that broke the cammel's back. Salvatore has a bad habit of coming up with interesting premises, and then not delivering on them, imho. I was in love with Obould and his orcs , despite how flawed I think the execution was. And then it was all pushed under the rug in a way that I have found rather undignified. This was overshadowed by my feelings about the whole resurrection thing. Just like you , I deeply care about some of the characters . Keep up the good work, I come to lurk on your blog regularly.

PS. The companions of the Hall should have stayed dead.

[[ Haha, thanks!

Yeah, I hear ya about Vengeance of the Iron Dwarf. Other than wiping out a neat establishment, that book and Rise of the King were really boring and not at all memorable. It was a good point for you to stop reading, as Archmage kicked off the beginning of the sharp downward spiral, the only thing good about the books in the Homecoming Trilogy is are the cover artworks. The sad thing is, looking back now, they don't feel as horrible as I thought they were at the time, but that's not really due to my feelings about them having changed. I've simply found a new low with the more recent books.

I'm honestly not even sure that Salvatore is responsible for some of the interesting premises, Obould being one of those. I've never been much interested in orcs in any franchise, so I didn't look into whether the Obould nation was something the TTRPG spawned. I did like that Obould used a combination of brains and brawn to carve out a nation for his people right in the middle of a bunch of "civilized" strongholds, it's one of the more nuanced things that Salvatore has ever done. Obould was presented as an antagonist but at least for me, it was difficult to dislike him. The Kingdom of Many-Arrows felt like an unfamiliar addition to the Silver Marches, but it was unfamiliar in a good way; I felt like we could sense some of the other kingdoms' discomfort in having the whole area so drastically changed. There's one scene that sticks in my mind about an orc girl preparing for her wedding to a human and her mother tells her to not be subservient to her husband because her race is not inferior to his just as their kingdom is not inferior to his. It would've been neat to see Obould's people staunchly defend their claims and their legacy, forcing those around them to recognize and accept them.

But instead, we have what happened in the books. What I find the most disturbing about all of that was Catti-brie murdering goblin infants, justifying her doing as by saying they're a race that's inherently evil. Now it's established that no race is inherently evil, but all Catti-brie gets is a slap on the wrist because she's a Companion of the Hall and also the hottest woman of all time. And instead of Obould's kingdom of a misunderstood group of people proud of their heritage and fighting for acceptance, we get an impossibly and ridiculously utopic city that no one's heard of before just popping into place because it's convenient. Salvatore might not have been the one behind the creation of Callidae, but it was his choice to make it as over the top as he did.

The Companions of the Hall definitely should've stayed dead. Their stories were already told and told to excess prior to the Spellplague, all they serve to accomplish now is act as Salvatore's mouthpieces and make everything that they're involved with worse. I really don't understand how those who still can't get enough of them are that way, the only reasoning I can come up with is that those people must be of the same sort as the ones in the movie "Idiocracy" responsible for the in-universe movie "Ass" being the number one movie and winning eight Oscars including best screenplay. ]]

[girlboss-molina]

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 6: Growing Pains

AO3 Link

Words: 16340

-----

Alex POV

… 

Alex was surprisingly calm. The pressed white dress shirt was cool against his skin, the slim-fitting blue vest with subtle gold embroidery a calming pressure over his chest. He was anxious, of course, but not nearly as much as he would’ve expected, given the situation. He felt free, light…

And then he was drowning.

His lungs closed, refusing the air he tried to gulp down, throwing away a lifeline. Everything burned, like fiery needles stabbing into him at the speed of sound, not enough to bleed but somehow even more painful. His vision blurred, dizziness or tears, he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t hear his own breathing, or lack thereof, over the pounding of his heart in his ears. Everything was wrong. 

Then, the pounding of his heart silenced, his head felt lighter than air. He couldn’t move. He felt like he was in a cloud, no, like he was a cloud, floating in the sky but losing parts of himself as he passed, unable to control what happened, a bystander left helpless to watch havoc. 

Alex tried to move, tried to think, but his brain felt like ice, flaming with shivers as he shook, his lungs leaving no room for air between the panic. 

Something is going to go wrong, he thought. He had a feeling in his gut that fueled his panic, telling him that someone would get hurt tonight, or that something horrible would happen, a feeling he couldn’t shake no matter how unrealistic it might’ve been. He knew Caleb wouldn’t try anything at the ball. It was a huge event, and tons of people would be there. 

He couldn’t sort out his thoughts, though, so he had no choice but to let this panic attack run its course. It felt surreal but painfully there, like when you’re so cold that you feel like you’re on fire. His hands shook, and he barely registered the salty tears coating his lips as he paced across the floor, back and forth until there was a groove in the rug. 

He made his way back to his bed, shaking, barely able to get the breath to fake three sneezes. He almost worried that it didn’t work, but then his door opened, Luke abandoning his post and sinking down next to him. He felt Luke’s arms wrap around him, and the touch immediately grounded him. Rather than a helpless cloud, he was the icy snow crusting the tops of the mountains behind the palace, unable to do anything but laying a foundation for something. And as Luke’s hands traced circles on his shoulder blades, he became the water rushing down the cliff sides, rapid and unpredictable, his breathing quickening but the panic subsiding. And when Luke pressed a gentle, calming kiss to his temple, Alex’s breathing finally slowed, his lungs letting in the air they so craved, and he calmed as the rushing water flowed into a clear pond, each reassuring touch from his best friend like a lily floating on the surface. 

He could hear, finally aware of Luke’s soft whispers of “it’ll be okay,” and “just breathe.” 

“Sorry,” he choked out, seeing Luke shake his head out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t be,” he said. “This is a nerve-racking thing. I’m super nervous too.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Alex said dryly, wiping his tears. 

“Really?” Luke challenged, a quiver in his voice, extending a hand in front of Alex, which was trembling. “You’re not alone, I promise.”

“Thanks.” Alex tore a hand through his hair, taking his turn to wrap Luke in a hug and let him let out his emotions. He felt him shake against his chest, but his breathing stayed relatively even. Alex was never great at the whole physical contact thing. His parents were never touchy, to the point where hugs were always a rarity. But Luke was a touchy person, and soon Alex was comfortable with his spontaneous embraces and casual, platonic affection. 

“Okay,” Luke finally said. “It’s almost time. Let’s get ourselves fixed up.” Alex nodded, squeezing him tighter before letting go. They both wandered to the bathroom, gently wiping their faces of tears and fixing their hair. Alex tugged on his sleeves, eliminating any wrinkles, and readjusted his snug vest. 

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m ready.”

“Me too.”

They both knew it was a lie. But their steps were steady as they walked to the ballroom. 

…

The food was delicious, especially the dessert, and Alex’s cheeks flushed as he wondered if Willie had made it. The expertly piped frosting seemed familiar, and he was almost sure that it was he who had carefully crafted it. 

And if he got emotional over a beautifully piped flower because of the slight possibility that it was made by his crush, no he didn’t. 

Eventually, the dancing started, and Alex had to suffer through. He plastered on an unconvincing smile and did his best to waltz around the ballroom with random Nobility who were chatting non-fucking-stop about how excited he must be for the marriage, and how was he liking it in Dahlia, and did he mind the cold, and what his relationship with Julie was like. Soon, he’d had it, and made some lame excuse about feeling a bit light-headed. Thankfully, he’d been able to ditch them and sit down along the side of the room. 

Reggie plopped down next to him, sitting sideways with his arm draped over the back of the chair. 

“Tired of the Nobles prying?” he assumed. Alex nodded, snorting. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that they have no gaydar, but it’s still super annoying being asked about my supposed girlfriend,” he added. “But playing heterosexual is still a pain in the ass.”

“Tell me about it,” Reggie agreed. “Every time I have an interview, it’s all, ‘any special lady in your life?’ or ‘have you taken an interest in any ladies of different kingdoms?’ but never ‘what’s your favorite pizza topping’ or ‘why are you the amazing bisexual that you are?’” Alex nodded sarcastically. 

“Of course.” 

“I know I joke,” Reggie added, “but I feel for you, man. It must be super hard.” 

“Yeah. And I do appreciate the attempts to lighten the mood, too.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” 

…

It was nearly eleven when the screaming started. 

Alex’s heart jumped to his throat, his stomach plummeted, and he simultaneously felt like everything was happening at once, and like it was moving in slow motion.

He remembered the sound of people running. Cries of the few children in attendance. Shouts of furious Nobility. Hushed, terrified breathing of the council members. Caleb’s velvety, disgusting voice as he lounged on Ray’s throne. The pounding of his heart in his ears. 

But what he remembered most vividly was the glint of the daggers pressed against each of the council members’ throats. 

“Why?” someone asked. It took a few seconds for Alex to realize that he was the one who’d spoken. Caleb quirked an eyebrow and gave him the side-eye.

“Why what?” Alex was shocked by his sudden swell of angry confidence. 

“You know damn well what I mean. Why are you doing this? We’ve been allies for a century, and you’re going to try to overthrow us and put daggers at the throats of our council members?”

“You know, Alexander, it really is adorable how you talk about Dahlia as if it’s your country. You are, until the wedding, the Tamborian prince.” Caleb twirled an extra dagger around his fingers. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that what you’re doing is wrong, and you know it. You just want more power, clearly, but do you really think people will stand for this and accept you as their leader? Do you really think that anyone with half a mind will be okay with this?”

“Alexander, the beauty of youth also comes with naivete. I wouldn’t expect you to understand yet. But the fact of the matter is that, in life, you must deal with growing pains. This will all be for the better.”

“No,” Julie interrupted, “it won’t. There is a huge difference between growing pains and whatever the hell you’re trying to do, and you know it.” 

Before Alex could add to what she said, he saw the back door of the ballroom open silently, revealing Lilian - the tall, dark-haired woman he’d met when looking for Willie - stalking in, a gleaming knife in her hand. She was followed by a short, plump woman with purple hair, a line of various chefs and bakers, each armed with metal frying pans, and-

No. 

He tried to hide the fear in his eyes as Willie walked in, his brow furrowed and hands steady, wrapped around the knife in his hand. But when their eyes met, and Alex tried to give him the tiniest of head shakes, Willie mouthed something that Alex couldn’t make out before Caleb spoke again.

“I can see you’re all a bit tense,” he said silkily, “so here’s how this will go. Ray here is going to surrender, and I’ll let your precious council members live.” 

Alex watched as the group behind Lilian - thankfully not including Willie - silently lined up behind the seven Kryptonians holding daggers to the council. They made eye contact with one another before simultaneously bringing their frying pans down on their heads as hard as they could, causing everyone to erupt in shouts and screams, some of joy, some of rage, some of fear. Caleb’s head snapped over, and then Lilian spoke. 

“Or,” she said smoothly, “you could surrender, and go back to your own country.” She had the knife trained on his back, the blade gleaming in the lantern-lit room. Willie was in front of Caleb, popping out from behind the throne. Alex’s heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to pound louder or silence itself completely as he saw the terror in Willie’s eyes that he tried to mask. 

“Don’t hurt these people,” Willie said, his voice steadier than Alex would’ve expected. 

“A few bakers trying to save their precious leaders,” Caleb purred, but the malice in his voice was like venom. “How sweet. Unfortunately for you, I have this”- he pulled a small remote out of his pocket -”and while I would rather not use it, I will if I must.” Alex’s stomach dropped. 

A bomb.

“That’s right,” Caleb said over the terrified screams, people running for the doors. “If any of you here have any sense, you’ll run. You shouldn’t have to, of course, but if your leaders continue to be stubborn, it might be for the best.”

“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience. “You’re in this room too.”

“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and Alex’s face warped with confusion, until he saw a flicker. 

A hologram. 

“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”

“But what about your representatives?” Reggie asked. 

“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Alex noticed one of them tremble. 

“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Alex’s face reddened with fury. 

“What did you do to my dad?” Julie shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking. 

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”

Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Alex watched as Julie stepped up to the royals’ table. 

“Leave my people alone.” The words were cold, harsh, but clear and steady. “Get out of our kingdom. You have no place here.”

“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” 

“You can’t make us surrender,” Luke informed him. Alex nodded, standing as tall as he could. 

“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.” 

“NO,” Alex yelled, his eyes flicking from Luke to Julie to Carlos to Willie to Reggie, trying to find all of them and get them out of here.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors, 

“Everyone get out of here, now!” Luke’s voice echoed throughout the ballroom, and Alex barely saw him run after Julie. Reggie ran out another door, and Alex searched for Willie. 

At least thirty seconds had to have passed, searching the ballroom and crowded hallways, ushering people out.

“WILLIE!” his voice was louder than he’d ever known it could be, and he shouted a couple more times, finally meeting a dark brown gaze, panicked and full of all the words they’d left unsaid. Everything moved in slow motion, his legs like lead and air as he sprinted towards him.

The shockwave knocked him backwards, leaving him deaf and blind, barely registering when his back hit the ground, not even noticing the air forced out of his lungs. Alex felt like he was floating, every nerve in his body stretched along a cloud of light.

If this is dying, he thought, it’s not so bad. People don’t need to be so scared. 

His mind was trapped in a void of dark brights, blinding and comforting at the same time, like he was hovering in an endless state of between. Between fire and ice, ground and sky, life and death. He floated, wondering just how long it had been. It felt like minutes but it couldn’t have been, because that was only the shockwave.

Because then came the fire. 

The heat licked at his skin, and Alex was snapped back to reality. 

He wasn’t sure if he was burning or if it was just the air around him, which was now thick with smoke and dust. Bits of debris scattered all around, and he only saw Willie’s face one more time before falling into oblivion.

…

When Alex awoke, the sky was dark, twinkling with stars, but the faint light of sunrise teased the horizon. He was on his back, next to a giant slab of concrete, his face covered in dust. He did his best to sit up, a sharp pain on his arm. He winced, grabbing his bicep, grimacing when his palm came away soaked with blood. And his ankle hurt when he tried to stand. He tested it, but by some miracle, it didn’t feel broken. 

He stood, shaking the dust off of him and limping around, searching for other people. 

For survivors. 

Alex’s breath caught when he saw a group of people farther down the hill. He ran to them, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he bounded down. 

He saw Reggie first. His wrist was wrapped in a bandage, and a streak of red adorned his pale forehead, but he was alive. 

“REGGIE!” he shouted, running, tears blurring his eyes. Reggie’s head snapped towards him. 

“ALEX!” he cried, standing and dashing closer. They met in a hug, collapsing in each others’ arms, sobbing into their shoulders. 

“When we didn’t find you with the survivors we thought-”

“Shh, no, I’m okay,” he said. “A little roughed up, but I’ll live.” He turned his head to the palace, hundreds of feet behind him. He had a clear view of the destruction. 

He’d really underestimated the size of the palace. The ballroom was in the bottom right corner, and was blown to bits. More of the palace was scorched and crumbling, but it appeared the left half had been preserved, somehow. 

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked, refusing to give in to the panic rising in his chest. “Are they okay?”

“Julie’s with Carlos and Ray over where I was,” Reggie said. 

“Wait, Ray survived?” Relief washed over him. “But I thought-”

“I’m not sure how, but he made it,” Reggie said with an incredulous laugh, more tears running down his soot-covered face. “And Erik, Mira, Flynn and Carrie are also okay, same with Luke.” Alex sighed, smiling despite himself. They’d survived. 

“ALEX!” his head snapped to Luke’s voice, and he ran to him, once again ignoring the pain in his ankle. Luke tackled him with a hug despite the sling around his arm. “We thought you were-”

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m okay.” 

…

Alex ran through the gardens, offering quick aid to anyone he could. But he was only half-paying attention, which might’ve made him the worst prince ever. But he needed to find Willie. 

He searched, tears blurring his eyes as he made his way to the last place he needed to search, but also the one he was dreading. 

As he ran into the park, he searched the lawn and sidewalks, nearly dying of relief when he saw Willie, sitting in the middle of the field, his knees hugged to his chest…

Shaking with sobs. 

“Willie!” he called, racing over. Willie’s head snapped up, his eyes red and puffy. His face went from shock to happiness to confusion to incredulity within half a second, and he stood, shaking and walking to Alex. 

A swell of confidence, probably tied with a huge rush of adrenaline, sent Alex running forward, wrapping Willie in a hug, who sobbed into his shoulder. Soon, Alex was crying too. 

“I’m sorry,” Willie whispered shakily. Alex shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was doing, I should’ve grabbed you and ran…” His eyes met Willie’s, and he leaned a little closer, his heart racing until he was just a hairsbreadth away. 

Then, when Willie didn’t pull away, he pressed their lips together. 

Willie’s lips tasted like chocolate and salty tears, chapped and warm. He kissed back almost immediately, Willie’s hands tangling in Alex’s hair, Alex’s arms around his waist, pulling him closer. It might not have been a movie-worthy kiss, between the sobs, soot, and blood, but Alex couldn’t think, too caught up in the euphoria of Willie being alive, and of kissing him. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds when they came up for air, foreheads pressed together. 

“When you weren’t with the survivors, I-” Willie choked off into another sob. “I thought I’d lost you,” he finally whispered. Alex shook, hugging him tighter. 

“You’ll never lose me.” 

-----

Julie POV

…

Julie smoothed the front of her violet ball gown, letting the layers of tulle float gently to the floor. Straightening the silky bodice, her hands shook with anxiety, but she didn’t let herself succumb to it. The gown was identical to the one she’d worn to the welcome feast a week ago, only rather than navy blue, this one was violet. Otherwise, though, it was the same; a silky, strapless dress with layers of tulle, one layer going over her chest and collarbone in a halter neckline. However, while the blue one had tiny starlike diamonds sewn into the skirt, this one had no jewels, but the tulle halter was embroidered with dahlia designs. 

She walked to her vanity, twisting her hair into two braids, tying them together and letting the rest of her hair poof at the base of her neck. She drew her eyeliner into a small, sharp wing, brushed on mascara, and painted her lips with a shimmery gloss. She massaged a bit of lotion into her arms and spritzed some perfume into the air, walking through the mist so that it was subtle. 

Her low heels made quiet tapping noises as she walked across her bathroom, examining her reflection to make sure she looked perfect. 

Once she’d made sure her dress wasn’t crooked and that her eyeliner was even, Julie sat on the foot of her bed and grabbed her phone. The time read 19:44. 16 minutes until the ball. 

A knock on her door drew her attention. 

“Come in.” She gave a weak smile when her dad walked through the doorway. 

“Hey, mija,” he said, “you okay?” Julie shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’m nervous, but also just anxious to get this over with. With any luck, it’ll go well, and Caleb will revoke his declaration.”

“That’s the plan,” Ray agreed. A wistful smile spread on his face, and his eyes turned glassy. 

“You look beautiful,” he told her. Julie smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Your mother had a dress just like that,” he added. “You look just like her.” Julie stood, blinking back a tear as she hugged him. He squeezed back, finally letting go with a sigh. 

“Everything will be okay.”

“Here’s hoping. And if not, we’ll make it.” Ray nodded, his expression unreadable as he left, closing her door, almost seeming like he wasn’t sure if it was true.

Right at that moment, Julie decided that it would be. If things went south, no matter what, she would fight to make sure they all made it out alive. She would fight in any way she had to if it meant her family stayed safe.

She would fight, and she would win.

…

As she walked into the ballroom, she found her assigned seat, in the center of the long royal table, just beside her father. To her right was Luke, then Alex, Carrie, Flynn, Erik, Mira, and Carlos. To her left, after Ray, was Reggie, Councilwoman Noah, Councilman Richard, Councilperson Aster, Councilwoman Mei Lin, Councilwoman Anika, Councilman Ryan, and Councilman Trevor. 

The council members weren’t technically royalty, but they were the next tier of leaders in Dahlia, and the royal table was very long, so they got to sit there as well. 

Around the perimeter, circular tables were arranged with white tablecloths draping over them, and as the Dahlian Nobility flooded in, many of the seats filled. Soon, though, King Covington arrived.

He was dressed in a black three-piece, a black and violet cloak over his shoulders. His top hat was still perched on his expertly-styled hair, and his blue eyes pierced Julie’s before travelling to Ray. Ray stood, his face neutral. Covington took off his hat and pressed it to his chest, dipping in an elaborate bow. 

“It is an honor to be here, King Molina,” he purred. “I do hope we can resolve this quickly.”

“As do I. Hopefully it will be easy. We have been allies for over a century, after all.” Covington’s smile morphed into a sneer.

“Indeed.” He flourished to his table, Kryptonian representatives right behind him, as they arranged themselves. Ray cleared his throat, and Julie took a deep breath. 

“Welcome,” he said, “to the ball. This event is a celebration of allyship, a hope for peace, and a symbol of unity amongst our people. I hope all of you in attendance will find yourselves comfortable. Please, do not hesitate to speak up if you are not. Now please, enjoy the feast.”

Soft chatter echoed in the grand room, the clicking of cutlery on plates ringing in Julie’s ears. She did her best to focus on her food, but her eyes kept flicking to Covington. He was very shady. She couldn’t decide if he was always like that, or if something was off tonight, but he spoke in hushed tones to his representatives, glancing furtively around the room. Julie turned back to her food.

“How are you holding up?” Luke’s voice snapped her out of her daze. 

“Alright,” she said after a moment. “You?”

“Alright.” 

It was a lie, of course. Neither of them were alright, but they had to pretend to be. 

Julie noticed Luke’s eyes flicker to Caleb. 

“Something seems off,” he murmured. “I’m not sure if he’s always like this, but my gut tells me something’s wrong.”

“I had the same feeling,” Julie admitted, looking at her food so people wouldn’t notice her occasional glances to Covington and Luke. 

“Hey, dad?” she asked after a moment, her voice hushed. Ray looked at her. 

“Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my gut is telling me that something bad is going to happen. Look at Covington,” she added when he looked skeptical. “He’s glancing around like he expects someone to sneak up on him, and he’s hunched. He looks so secretive, but he’s usually flamboyant.”

“Hmm,” Ray murmured. “You’re right, he is acting strange. But I’m sure everything’s fine, mija.” He patted her hand. “Your dad’s got this.” Julie offered half a smile in reply, but met Luke’s eyes nervously. 

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he finally said. “He’s probably plotting what ridiculous outfit he’ll wear tomorrow.” The joke lightened the mood, and Julie giggled. Luke smiled, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. 

They finished their dinner, and then, the mingling began. Dessert would be brought up soon, but this was an opportunity for everyone to stand and walk around to see other people. Julie roamed the room, shaking hands and speaking cordially with the Nobility, exchanging a couple jokes with Lady Cadence. 

When butlers brought dessert from the kitchens, Julie gave a friendly curtsy to the people around her before making her way back to the table. The dessert was a mixture of mini red velvet cupcakes, piped with cream cheese frosting, and beautifully decorated cakes. Thin layers of fondant gave them warm pastel coloring, and frosting had been piped into flowers and swirls. 

She helped herself to a slice of cake, but didn’t finish it. Nerves were taking up more room in her stomach than she’d thought. So, she opted to sip her water, scanning the crowd. She noticed Lady Amara holding hands with Lady Sierra and smiled. She’d known they’d liked each other, so that warmed her heart. 

Soon, everyone had finished dessert, and the music volume increased, slow and rhythmic. People made their way to the dance floor with partners, waltzing around gracefully. Julie smiled as Carrie dragged Flynn over, spinning her around and catching her. Flynn protested but laughed. 

Soon, Julie was twirling around the dance floor, making idle chatter as she slowly waltzed with kind Nobility, talking cordially about political affairs. 

As she sat down on one of the free chairs at the edge of the ballroom, she sighed. Thankfully, everything seemed to be going well. She smoothed the tulle of her dress, fixing a curl back into a braid, when Luke’s voice caught her attention.

“My lady,” he said with a grin, dipped in a bow. “May I have this dance?” Julie stifled a laugh. He was such a dork. But she nodded, putting her hand in his and letting him pull her closer, hoping she hid her shiver when he gently placed his hand on her waist, the other holding her hand up as they danced.

“I’m surprised at how well this has gone so far,” he told her. She couldn’t help but nod, making sure nobody was paying attention.

“I half suspected Caleb would’ve tried something by now.” 

“Same.”

“But I still have a nagging feeling in my gut,” Julie admitted. Luke nodded, quiet for a moment. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. They held each other's gaze, and Julie’s hand felt right at home on his shoulder as she swayed. 

“There’s nothing to do about it now, though,” Luke reasoned, and Julie smiled, grinning wider when he twirled her. Her heart fluttered, but sank when Luke frowned. Half of his smile returned.

“We should probably trade off, now,” he sighed. Julie nodded disappointedly. Nobody could suspect that they didn’t want to go along with the arranged marriage. And besides, Luke might like her, but probably not how she liked him. He just cared about people’s reputations. 

She gave half a smile and twirled again, before someone took her wrist. 

“Your highness, may I have this dance?” The sickening voice of Caleb Covington filled Julie’s ears, and she wanted nothing more than to rip away from his clammy clutch and walk away. But this was for diplomacy, so she suppressed her shudder and offered a smile.

“Of course.”

“You know,” Covington said silkily, “this is a beautiful palace.” Julie nodded.

“Yes, I believe your grandfather helped my great-grandfather design it once we became allies,” she pointed out. “It has architectural properties that were inspired by Kryptonian styles, but was also its own thing.”

“Yes, one might say that,” Caleb agreed. “But, isn’t it ironic that my own grandfather, who was the king of the most prolific country in the world, held no reservations against designing a palace for a new ‘country’ that never should have existed?” Julie bit back a sarcastic remark. 

“With all due respect, your majesty”- she twirled, grateful for the moment without Caleb’s hand on her waist -”At that time, Dahlia had already been founded over a century earlier, and relations had stabled. Our resources were significant, and our citizens had settled in an unoccupied land. The Dahlian revolution was a revolution purely because Krypto’s king at the time was too stubborn in the years before his passing to let go.”

“You’ve studied your history, I see,” Caleb remarked. 

“I have been raised for this,” Julie agreed with half a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. “Your grandfather ascended over a century ago, and his goal was always peace, which was why he worked so hard to forge an allyship between Krypto and Dahlia. Relations have been stable between us ever since. We would rather keep it that way.”

“You know,” Caleb said with a click, “the funny thing about running a country is that you must always aim for growth. In that growth lies certain… growing pains, shall we say? Krypto is destined for greatness, and Dahlia is the rebellious teenager who was once an obedient child, and will soon be the respectful adult with familial ties.”

“Or,” Julie countered smoothly, “if you’re so set on growth, you could expand on uninhabited land. More resources means more wealth, and more land means more growth for your borders and space for your people. Holding onto a grudge that was resolved before you were born will only hold you back.”

She knew the words were risky, and might be perceived as disrespectful, but Caleb’s smirk grew into a laugh.

“My dear Julie, you are too smart for your own good. And yet,” he added, “there is still so much you don’t understand. You’re so young, I wouldn’t expect you to understand it in the first place.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I am just as qualified as anyone else in this room.” 

“But you don’t know what it’s like to lead a country on your own-”

“And I’ll never have to, because I have the sense to not distance myself from my people.”

“You’re marching into dangerous territory,” Covington warned, but Julie didn’t care. 

“Like I said,” she said with finality, “our goal is to resolve things peacefully and go back to our allyship. Please enjoy the ball.”

…

Julie had taken her chance to escape Caleb, and she was grateful that she did, because she got room to breathe, and got to hang out with her friends. 

She danced with Alex, chatting idly about the ball, and about a certain baker with whom Alex was absolutely smitten. She grinned to herself, asking questions to make sure that this baker was actually worthy of Alex. She knew he could be a bit… simpy, so she had to make sure she had the brain cell, and then approve of his future boyfriend. But, if Alex was to be believed, the baker - Willie, as she learned - was one of the sweetest people to ever walk the Earth, just shy of Reggie. So, Julie took his word for it. 

She twirled, letting the skirt of her dress flare outwards. 

“Okay, bro, that dress is amazing,” Alex noted. “It looks like the one you wore last week.”

“That’s because it is! Well, the same style at least. It’s a different color.”

“Well, same or different, it looks great.”

“Thanks,” she said with a grin. She noticed Alex’s eyes flicking around the room, scanning the people as if he was searching for someone.

“Looking for someone?” she asked, a shit-eating grin on her face. Alex’s face turned bright red as he stammered in denial. Julie laughed. 

“You know what? We’re done dancing, you can come back after you quit being an asshole,” he decided, flicking his wrist. Julie snorted; his gay panic was hilarious. 

She found herself dancing with Flynn, who gave her The Look, glancing at Luke, who was playfully dancing with Alex. They weren’t even dancing, it was more just… messing around in a rhythmic formation. But when Luke’s eyes caught Julie’s, she quickly looked away. Flynn rolled her eyes as she twirled Julie.

“Jules, I know I can’t yell at you about this since we’re at a ball, but come on. You have to know he’s absolutely smitten with you.” Julie sighed.

“Or he’s just a dork. Which is very, very possible. I mean, have you met him?”

“Then tell me why he doesn’t act like that around anybody else?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But even if he does like me, there’s nothing we can do about it. It would be a disaster.” 

“Jules, you have to go for what you want!” Flynn took a breath as she twirled, giving an awkward smile to anybody looking their way. “Talk to your dad,” she added quietly. 

“What? Flynn, are you fucking insane?” Julie looked around; it was her turn to give an awkward smile. “I can’t tell dad about this.” 

“Can’t tell me about what?” Ray’s voice was in a normal tone and volume, but he looked concerned as he walked towards them. “Mijas, are you alright?” Julie opened her mouth, trying to speak, glancing to Flynn.

“We’re fine,” she said at last. Ray quirked an eyebrow. 

“Honey, you know I would never judge you, right?” Julie sighed, letting Flynn hand her over to dance with her dad. 

“I know. It’s just…” she couldn’t find the right words. 

“Is this about Caleb? Did he do something to you?”

“No, no,” she assured him, “it’s not about that. It’s about something else.” Her heart sank when he looked down.

“The marriage?” he asked quietly. She sighed. 

“Yeah.” 

“I know.” 

“No, that’s the thing, dad, you don’t know. You know that Alex and I don’t want to get married, and I know that you tried to get us out of it, but it just hurts so much more now that…”

“No, mija, I know. You aren’t as subtle as you think.” Julie’s jaw dropped, and she stuttered for words, refusing to glance over to Luke. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally sighed, “I’m so, so sorry. This isn’t something you need added to your plate.”

“Julie, you have nothing to apologize for. I know you can’t control feelings. I’ve tried. Did I ever tell you how your mother and I met?” Julie shook her head. 

“She was about your age,” Ray began. “I met her at a cafe, while she was out in the city taking a break from being a princess. I didn’t even know it was her. But as soon as I did know, I immediately tried to ignore my feelings for her. But every time I saw her, I remembered her smile, and how kind she was when we spoke.

“Well, I would occasionally see her in person. We got to know each other, and no matter how much I tried to repress how I felt and insist that I just wanted to be friends with her, it didn’t work. But it all worked out in the end.”

“Yeah, well, Mom wasn’t in an arranged marriage. Her falling in love with you wasn’t treason.”

“Maybe, but…” Ray trailed off. “I’m still trying to get you out of it, I promise.”

“Thanks, Papá.”

“Of course. But you have my word that, should you choose to stand up and face these feelings, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I can’t promise that if people find out there won’t be trouble, but I’ll do anything I can.”

“Only if you extend the same courtesy to Alex,” Julie told him. “As well as whoever either of us might love.” He nodded.

“Of course, mija.” He pulled her in for a hug. “It’ll all be okay.” She nodded against his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

…

Julie was exhausted. She must’ve danced with everyone in attendance, plastering on a smile and talking about whatever. But now, she could’ve collapsed and fallen asleep. 

That is, until she heard the screaming. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her heart pounding in her ears as she ran to the end of the ballroom, stopping in her tracks when she saw Covington dramatically sitting in her father’s thronelike chair. He sat sideways, leaning on one armrest with his legs over the other, looking very pleased with himself. And next to him…

Next to him, all seven council members were trapped in their chairs, with daggers pressed to their throats. None of them made a sound, but the fear in their eyes was heartbreaking. Everyone in the ballroom shouted, screamed, and cried for justice.

“Like I said,” Covington shouted over the din, “you will either surrender peacefully to Kryptonian rule, or we will take it by force.”

…

A bomb. 

Julie could barely think. 

She took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she clenched them into fists and released, finally clearing her head. Normally she worked well under pressure, but this? This was something else entirely. 

The chaos of people shouting and running, trying to escape the ballroom gave her a chance to run for Carlos.

“JULIE!” he shouted, tears running down his face. Julie grabbed his wrist, running out the door of the ballroom. 

“I’m going to get more people out,” she said. “I want you to grab whoever you see on your way and run straight out the front gates as far as you can, okay? But-” Carlos shook his head, inhaling to interject, but Julie cut him off -”No, Carlos, listen to me. Do not try to be a hero. I want you to run as fast as you can, okay?”

Carlos finally nodded, wrapping Julie in a hug and leaving the chest of her dress soaked with tears. 

“I love you,” he choked out before running.

“I love you too,” she told him, never having meant the words more than she did in that moment. 

“Julie,” came Luke’s voice from behind her, his eyes filled with panic. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, traitorous tears finally leaking down her face. “You should be running, you should get out of here, get Alex, get Reggie, get anyone you can and get out!”

“No,” Luke said firmly, “I’m staying with you. But please, just-” 

“No! You need to get out of here! I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a supply closet as more people ran by. Julie gasped in the dark.

“Please,” he said as her eyes adjusted. “Please, Julie. In case I don't make it, there’s something you need to know.” He took a breath, but Julie cut him off.

“No, don’t even go there.” She shook her head, letting her curls fly in the air.  

“Please,” he whispered. Julie couldn’t speak, just shaking her head. More shouts and screams echoed from the hallway. Luke’s eyes met Julie’s, and she couldn’t find the right words to describe the intensity and swirling, indescribable emotions in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Then, Julie met him halfway. 

When her lips met his, they tasted salty from tears, and her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His hand cupped her jaw, and she sank into the touch. 

“I had to do that,” he told her when they pulled away, another tear rolling down his face. “At least once.” 

Then, he ran out of the closet, nobody noticing within the chaos. Julie chased after him, running back into the mostly-empty ballroom. The Kryptonian representatives - or criminals - had let the council members go, and were running as fast as they could. A few Nobles were also running, but one line of Caleb’s kept echoing in Julie’s mind. 

“I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”

Caleb was about to press the button. 

He was about to kill her father. 

“DAD!” she screamed. 

“JULIE!” it was Luke who shouted it, and Julie’s eyes blurred, spilling tears as she sobbed into his shoulder. 

“We have to get out of here,” he told her, and she nodded, running as fast as she could, her hand clasped in his. They’d made it to the front gates before the shockwave hit them, quickly followed by fire which licked at their skin, the heat making it hard to breathe; not that they were able to breathe, the shockwave having knocked the wind out of them. They flew down the steps, and Julie was barely able to roll in time to not break her neck. Luke was behind her, and she did her best to catch him as they scrambled, making it to the hill before blacking out. 

…

When Julie awoke, it was to her father’s voice, blinded by light and grief and hope. 

I’m dead, she thought. But the grass under her back was cold and wet and very much making a bruise form on her spine, and the whooshing air in her ears felt real as well, and the sound of people crying and talking was heartbreaking but brought her back to reality, however horrible it might’ve been. 

She blearily opened her eyes, seeing her dad and Carlos, ashen, dirty faces streaked with tears. They wrapped her in a hug, and she sobbed into their shoulders. 

“Dad-”

“I’m here, mija.”

“But I thought you were dead! Caleb said-”

“I was able to make it out,” he assured her. “I’m a little beaten up, but I’m alive.”

“Where’s Luke?” she asked, choked up with smoke and fear. 

“Right here.” Luke’s voice was choked up, and he wrapped her in a gentle hug. She cried into his shoulder for a moment.

“He’s okay,” Carlos said. “We’re okay.” Julie cried harder, standing and collapsing into Luke’s arms, running to Reggie and Carrie and Flynn and Mira and Erik and-

“Wait,” she said, trying to convince her eyes that she’d seen wrong. 

“Where’s Alex?”

“He’s okay,” Reggie said. Julie hadn’t even noticed that he’d walked away. But now, his face was covered with happy tears, and he had Alex’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, helping him walk with a sprained ankle. Julie rushed to him and hugged him as tightly as she could, finally letting her tears break free.

They were okay. 

-----

Luke POV

...

When Alex’s breathing quickened, Luke had a feeling this would be one of the worst panic attacks yet. So, it was no surprise when three fake sneezes echoed in the room, Luke was prepared to walk in and sit next to his best friend. 

He wrapped his arms around Alex, trying to calm his trembling. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but Alex didn’t hear him. Luke kept holding him, trying to stay steady for him, letting Alex bury his head in his shoulder. He traced circles on Alex’s shoulder blades, thankful when he calmed a bit, but his breathing was rapid and shaky. 

“Everything will be okay, Lex,” he said. “I promise.”

Luke leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Alex’s temple, tracing gentle circles along his shoulders. 

“Just breathe,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.” Alex hugged him tighter, and Luke patted his back.

“Sorry,” he choked out, and Luke immediately shook his head.

“Don’t be. This is a nerve-racking thing. I’m super nervous too.” It wasn’t a lie. Luke had always been good at holding himself together when he was scared or anxious, but he was still trembling. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Alex said dryly, wiping his tears. 

“Really?” Luke challenged, hating how his voice quivered, even though it proved his point. He showed Alex his shaking hands. “You’re not alone,” he reminded him. “I promise.”

“Thanks.” Then, it was Alex’s turn to wrap him in a hug, and Luke was surprised but comforted by it. He let himself sink into the embrace, sure he was shaking, but he didn’t care. That was his best friend, and he was warm, and Luke needed a hug. He held him tighter, shaking, finally letting go, his heart protesting the lack of hugs.

“Okay, it’s almost time. Let’s get ourselves fixed up.” Alex nodded, squeezing him tighter before letting go. Luke followed him to the bathroom, fixing his heather grey vest and readjusting his sleeves, fixing a loose strand of hair. 

Neither of them were ready, but they nodded to each other and walked to the ballroom. 

…

Luke was rather surprised when he saw that his assigned seat was between Julie and Alex. It would’ve made more sense for Julie to be next to Alex, since they were supposed to be getting married. Not that Luke was complaining, of course.

“How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.

“Alright,” Julie replied after hesitating. Luke knew it was a lie. “You?”

“Alright.” 

Luke’s eyes flickered to Caleb against his will. Something in his gut was nagging at him that something was wrong.

“Something seems off,” he murmured. “I’m not sure if he’s always like this, but my gut tells me something’s wrong.”

“I had the same feeling,” Julie admitted, confirming Luke’s anxieties. He did his best to calm the swelling bubble of worries in his stomach, taking another bite of his food. He heard Julie whisper to her dad, mentioning that she felt like something was off. Luke kept glancing at her, never lingering for more than a moment before looking away, usually to see if Caleb was still acting sketchy.

Of course, he was. 

Julie caught his eye, and he couldn’t ignore how nervous she looked. He bit his lip, hating how anxious this was all making her. She didn’t deserve this distress. Luke had to fight the urge to reach and take her hand; even under the table, it would be a super risky move.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he finally said. “He’s probably plotting what ridiculous outfit he’ll wear tomorrow.” Luke grinned when she laughed, for once not minding the butterflies in his stomach and how his heart started doing flips when she smiled. 

When the dancing started, Julie went to the large floor, speaking cordially with Nobles, and Luke was entranced. She flitted around the room like a butterfly. Her sparkly dress caught the light as she twirled, and the violet coloring made her look like she’d been dipped in twilight, with the softness of the clouds but the ferocity of a raging hurricane, the strength of a rushing river but the gentle touch of a feathery breeze. 

Luke stood at the edge of the floor, dancing with many people, including an overeager middle school girl who was both shy and enthusiastic. He gave her a smile and moved on to the next person. 

At some point, he ended up dancing with Mira, whose shimmery aquamarine gown had flecks of gold sewn in, glinting in the light. But he kept trying to subtly spot Julie in the crowd. Mira laughed.

“Dude, you’re killing me,” she said with an exasperated grin. “Go find her and ask her to dance!” Luke shook his head.

“We’re in a public setting,” he reasoned. It definitely wasn’t because of the nerves swelling in his chest. The eye roll Mira gave him was legendary. 

“And? It’s a ball! People dance! Alex has had to dance with a ton of people already, but nobody suspects him of treason, right? So who’s to say you can’t dance with Jules?” Luke sighed. 

“I know, I know, it’s just…” he trailed off, searching for the right words as he twirled Mira. “I feel weird,” he told her. “I’m normally really confident and can just go for things, but for some reason I just… can’t. I hate this feeling,” he added. “Nervousness does not fit me.” 

“It doesn’t,” Mira agreed. “But it is sweet. And I can guarantee you that she wants to dance with you too.” Luke’s eyes widened.

“How do you know? Wait,” he said, a huge grin spreading on his face as he lowered his voice, “do you think she likes me like I like her?” He shook his head, trying to get rid of those horrible, treasonous thoughts.

“I’m not going to betray Julie’s trust,” Mira said, “but I am going to call you an oblivious, pining dumbass.” When Luke didn’t respond, she added, “get it together! Go tell her how you feel!”

“I can’t do that,” he sighed. “Even if I really, really want to. We both know what would happen, Mira.”

“I know, I just…” Mira sighed. “I hate seeing her so doubtful. She’s confident in herself, and she doesn’t need a guy to tell her she’s amazing. But watching one of my best friends wonder whether someone she’s totally gone for feels the same, asking herself why would he be, when the answer is so obvious… I just hate it. You make her happy, Patterson.” Mira twirled, giving him a knowing look. “And I know she makes you happy, too.

“Things are happening, and the situation is awful,” she told him, giving a smile and encouraging nod to the other side of the ballroom. “Make sure it’s worth it.”

And then she was gone, having vanished into the crowd, leaving Luke with a goal and a pounding heart. 

But he wasn’t a quitter, so he made his way across the room, his heart fluttering when he found Julie. 

“My lady,” he said with a grin, dipped in a bow. “May I have this dance?” 

He heard Julie laugh, briefly saw her head bounce in a nod, and then her hand was in his. Everywhere she touched felt warm and cold at the same time, and Luke smiled to himself as he pulled her closer, gently putting his hand on her waist as they danced. 

Julie’s eyes shone in the light, deep brown with flecks of inky black and shimmering gold. 

“I’m surprised at how well this has gone so far,” he said. Julie nodded, glancing around.

“I half suspected Caleb would’ve tried something by now.” Luke agreed.

“Same.”

“But I still have a nagging feeling in my gut,” Julie admitted. He nodded, smiling at her. The butterflies in his stomach were steady but light, and the small pressure of her hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. He had a feeling he would’ve floated away otherwise. 

“There’s nothing to do about it now, though,” Luke reasoned, and Julie smiled, grinning wider when he twirled her. Luke noticed Covington staring at him, a frown on his face and one eyebrow quirked. Luke’s face fell.

“We should probably trade off now.” He hated the coldness in his hand and on his shoulder as she let go, hated Julie’s disappointed frown, and most of all, he hated Caleb’s slimy smile as he took Julie’s wrist, and how pleased with himself he looked when she danced with him out of politeness. Luke could see how uncomfortable she was. Her whole body tensed, and her smile was extremely forced. He wanted nothing more than to get him away from her, to get him to stop touching her when she clearly wasn’t okay with it. But that would’ve caused a huge spectacle, and Julie wouldn’t want him to cause drama. So he walked away. 

…

When the screaming began, Luke’s stomach dropped. 

Then when he turned and saw all seven council members with daggers pressed to their throats, he nearly vomited. 

And when Caleb pulled out a small remote, threatening to detonate a bomb, anger contorted all of his features, his fists shaking, fingers tracing the outlines of two daggers inside his vest. His eyes flicked to Reggie, then Alex, then Julie, all of whom were terrified, confused, and angry.

“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience after Caleb made his threat about the bomb. “You’re in this room too.” Luke nodded. 

“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and it took Luke a moment to realize that he was a hologram. A terrifyingly real one, too. 

“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”

“But what about your representatives?” Reggie asked. 

“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” 

“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Luke gasped, running to Julie, whispering that it would be okay. She barely noticed him. 

“What did you do to my dad?” she shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking, a couple tears running down her face. 

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”

Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, large in part from Luke himself. Jule shrugged his hand off her shoulder, stepping up to the royals’ table. 

“Leave my people alone. Get out of our kingdom,” she instructed. “You have no place here.”

“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” 

“You can’t make us surrender,” Luke added loudly, squaring his shoulders. 

“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.” 

Luke sprinted towards the doors next to Julie.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors, 

“Everyone get out of here, now!” Luke’s voice was louder than he’d ever known it could be, or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He ran out the door, ushering people away, directing them to the nearest exit and telling them to run as far as they could. But his mind was still on Julie.

He searched the crowd, craning his neck before he found her talking to Carlos and hugging her. He raced towards her.

“Julie,” he said quietly. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. “You should be running, you should get out of here, get Alex, get Reggie, get anyone you can and get out!” Luke shook his head.

“No,” Luke said firmly, “I’m staying with you. But please, just-” 

“No! You need to get out of here! I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a supply closet as more people ran by, hating the way he was shaking.

“Please,” he said, blinking as his eyes adjusted, and blinking back tears. “Please, Julie. In case I don't make it, there’s something you need to know.” He took a breath, but Julie cut him off.

“No, don’t even go there.” She shook her head, but Luke couldn’t think.

“Please,” he whispered. He looked at her, trying to take in every beautiful detail; the deep brown of her eyes, the curls of hair draped over her shoulders, the small gap in her teeth, the curve of her collarbone, the beautiful melody of her voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Julie leaned forward as he did, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss was brief and tasted like chocolate, full of all the emotions he couldn’t find the words for. She kissed him back, and he couldn’t explain how much it hurt knowing that it might be the last time.

“I had to do that,” he whispered when they pulled away, another tear rolling down his face. “At least once.” 

Then, he ran out of the closet, right into the mostly-empty ballroom to get everybody out and search for Ray. Caleb’s hologram smiled maliciously at him. Luke ignored it, running and helping people up as they fell, before Julie’s voice pierced the air. 

“DAD!” she screamed. No! Why was she here? She was supposed to run!

“JULIE!” he shouted, running to her.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, and thankfully she didn’t protest. She took his hand and he ran with her as fast as he could without pulling her over, making it to the front gates when the shockwave hit him. Heat from the raging fire burned the air and made it impossible to breathe, and Luke did his best to land steadily as Julie caught him after rolling. He ran as fast as he could, and everything seemed to move in slow motion as he looked back at Julie, her hand slipping from his, the final shockwave blasting him backwards.

He was blacked out before he hit the ground. 

…

When Luke awoke, he coughed, pain in his chest from the smoke and debris. His head was pounding, a drop of blood rolling down his cheek. As he sat up, a sharp pain in his shoulder told him he’d dislocated it. He grimaced, testing it; thankfully it wasn’t severe, and he bit down on torn fabric of his vest as he popped it back into place, using the rest as a sling he hastily tied. 

He stood, running down the pile of debris as he found Reggie. 

“REGGIE!” he shouted, running as fast as he could. Reggie’s face was streaked with tears, and he ran to him. Luke wrapped him in a one-armed hug, a sob escaping his lips. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Reggie nodded. 

“I’m okay,” he choked out. “Sprained my wrist, but I’m okay.” 

“Where’s Julie?” he asked, looking around. 

“She’s okay, don’t worry,” Reggie told him, another tear streaking down the dust on his face. “But we haven’t found Alex yet.” Luke’s stomach dropped.

He was supposed to be Alex’s guard. He was supposed to protect him, and now he might not even be alive. Luke’s eyes blurred with tears and his chest heaved with sobs. 

“That doesn’t mean he’s…” Reggie trailed off. “We haven’t searched all of the grounds yet, so there’s still a good chance he’s alright and we just haven’t found him.” The words helped, but Luke couldn’t stop crying. Alex was missing. 

“Ray’s also alive,” Reggie added, and Luke was shocked enough to dry his tears. 

“But I thought-”

“He made it, somehow.” Reggie’s laugh was incredulous. “Everyone else is okay, too.” 

But not Alex. 

…

Luke practically flew down the hill to Julie, who was still passed out, her gown tattered and skin covered in soot and dust. A few streaks of blood marred her arms, but she seemed okay other than that, and Luke was too relieved to explain when he noticed that her breathing was steady. 

Ray wrapped him in a hug, which took Luke by surprise, but he hugged back. 

“I’m so sorry, mijo,” he said. “I should’ve-”

“No,” Luke said. “No, you did everything you could’ve. And we just need to find Alex.” He willed the words to be true, but Ray shook his head. 

“There were four casualties,” he whispered. “Four of my people, gone, because I couldn’t…”

“That was not your fault,” Luke told him sharply. “You hear me? Not. Your. Fault. It was Covington who did that, not you. You did everything you could.” Ray nodded.

“Okay.” He shook more, but stood, patting Luke on the shoulders, looking back down to Julie. Flynn was knelt next to her, holding her hand and whispering for her to please wake up. 

“She’s okay,” Luke whispered to himself. Then, he noticed Reggie was gone, and-

When he looked up the hill, he saw Reggie with a familiar tall, blonde boy in a torn blue suit.

“ALEX!” Luke ignored the pain in his shoulder as he bolted, running and tackling his best friend in a hug. He choked back sobs, but some tears still made their way through. “We thought you were-”

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “I’m okay.” Luke nodded into his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, man, I should’ve been with you, I should’ve-”

 “No,” Alex said. “We’re okay. You have nothing to apologize for.” Luke nodded. 

“Everyone else is okay, too,” he said. “Come on.” 

Luke ran back down the hill, followed by Alex and Reggie. But Luke sprinted as fast as he could when he noticed that Julie was stirring. He blinked back tears, a huge grin on his face.

“Where’s Luke?” he heard her ask. 

“Right here.” He leaned down and gently wrapped her in a hug, helping her up. She was shaky but didn’t fall, finally tackling him in a huge hug, crying into his shoulder. Luke cried into the top of her head, pressing a kiss to her hair, not caring who was watching. He let her to the others. 

“Where’s Alex?” she asked, her voice trembling. 

“He’s okay,” Reggie said from a few feet away as he helped Alex, who seemed to have sprained his ankle.

“We’re all okay,” Luke told her, wrapping them all in a giant hug.

We’re okay. 

-----

Reggie POV

…

Reggie’s hands shook as he fastened the buttons on his silky red vest, adjusting and readjusting the dark sleeves of his shirt. He took a deep breath, stretching and grabbing his bass to calm him down. He ran through the notes for Icarus, sliding down the A string and adding in some extra notes for funsies. He grinned to himself as he spun, tapping his foot with the music. 

Humming to himself, Reggie glanced out the window. The sun hadn’t set, but it was going to soon. It was retreating west, preparing to dive behind the mountains. And the time on his phone told him that he needed to be in the ballroom in ten minutes. He sighed and decided to go now. It was on the other side of the palace, and he might as well go early. 

…

When Reggie had settled into his seat next to Ray, Councilwoman Noah soon sat next to him. 

“Hi, Reggie,” she said with a smile. “How are you?”

“Pretty nervous,” he admitted, “but excited. I love balls. They’re so fun, even if we have to dress all fancy.” Councilwoman Noah laughed.

“Well, you look wonderful,” she told him. Reggie beamed. 

“Thanks! You do too!” 

“Thanks, hon.” She shook her head wistfully. “You’re so young. You shouldn’t have to deal with such a stressful situation,” Noah said. “None of you should.” Reggie knew she was thinking about Flynn.

“Flynn’s strong,” he reminded her. “And she’s Julie’s best friend. Plus, she knows that she doesn’t have to deal with all of the stress. She does it because she can handle it, and because she wants to.” Noah nodded. 

“Plus, she probably likes being able to say she’s best friends with the princess,” he added as an afterthought. Councilwoman Noah laughed, and Reggie felt very accomplished. 

“Thanks. I always have to remind myself that she’s grown up,” she admitted. “It feels like only yesterday her hair was just long enough to braid.”

“I know,” Reggie said. “Even though Julie’s only a year younger than me, every time I see her in the meeting room, I worry that she’s going to get too stressed. I don’t know how she handles it.”

“She’ll make a great queen one day,” Noah said softly. Reggie nodded. 

“Yeah. She will.” 

…

The food was delicious. Reggie couldn’t help but smile as he finished, leaving room for dessert. He might’ve been a prince, but he had his priorities in order. And dessert was very high up there. 

As people began mingling before dessert, Reggie wandered around as well, chatting with random Nobles. Lady Cadence asked how his music was going. Sir Blake quipped about the ironic circumstances of such a wonderful event. Mx. Genevieve brought up some interesting points about constitutional technicalities that Reggie would be sure to bring up when they met with Covington; something about allyship and unnecessary tension. Xe’d suggested that Reggie write it down; xe was one of Ray’s close friends, so xe knew about Reggie’s ADHD. It was probably a good idea, too, so Reggie took xer advice and jotted it down in his notes app. 

Then, dessert was served, and Reggie was in heaven with the mini cupcakes. They were red velvet with cream cheese frosting, and he probably ate more than he should’ve, but if he did, that was nobody’s business but his. 

That’s code for, yes, he did eat too many cupcakes. 

Soon, the dancing began. Reggie loved dancing. Didn’t matter what kind, either; he would waltz in the ballroom, jump around whilst playing the bass, twirl around the studio as Julie played the piano, or dance by himself in the middle of the night with his earbuds in. 

Reggie made his way to the open floor, cordially waltzing with random Nobles who wanted to know more about the current political situation, dancing with Alex to hype him up and reassure him everything would be okay, twirling Julie to give her a break from stuffy Nobles who kept pestering her, and letting Carlos stand on his toes as they danced, chatting animatedly about Minecraft and Star Wars. 

Carlos eventually left to go dance with Nick’s younger sister, Annie Danforth-Evans. They were the same age, and Reggie definitely didn’t miss Annie’s blush when Carlos twirled her. He grinned to himself and kept dancing around the ballroom. 

…

When the shouting started, Reggie’s mind flashed back to the day he ran away.

It was a cold, rainy day in October. Reggie’s parents had been fighting more and more for months, and it had gotten so bad that he couldn’t fall asleep at night without wondering when he would be woken up at some early hour by shouts and screams. A stray piece of stuffing floated in the corner of his eye. It was from a small stuffed penguin he’d had, one that he hadn’t seen in weeks after one of his parents’ fights. 

It was early evening, though the dark, cloudy sky and pouring rain could’ve fooled someone into thinking it was night. His parents were screaming at each other again, and Reggie was wrapped in a blanket and huddled in the corner of his bedroom, surrounded by pillows from his unmade bed, trying to focus on the sound of the rain instead of the cruel words from the living room. 

He blinked back tears and sucked on the inside of his lip. There was a swollen patch of skin next to his teeth. He never bit it, just sucked on it to give him something to do instead of trying to speak. His ear was pressed to the window, sending a numbing chill through his head and making his ear hurt, but it made it easier to let the sounds of the torrential storm drown out his parents’ argument. 

When the sound of a shattering glass caught Reggie’s attention, he jumped and whimpered, his tiny hands clutching into fists. He couldn’t take this. 

Gathering up a drawstring bag, he stuffed in the tattered blanket, a small first-aid kit, his favorite book, and an extra hoodie. It was a little small, but it was warm. He put on his bigger hoodie, a thick grey one with a big pocket over the stomach, put up the hood, and shoved earplugs into his ears. He struggled to tie his beat-up converse and peeked out the door, running out the front door when they started shouting especially loud. He doubted they heard the quick, quiet opening and closing from the entryway, but if they did, they didn’t bother investigating. 

Reggie ran. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he knew the city well enough to find a familiar bench that was shaded by the roof of a cafe. He sat, grateful for the dry area, ignoring the cold wind on his nose. Huddled with his knees to his chest, earplugs making him deaf to the world, he didn’t notice the old woman handing him a small bag with a cinnamon roll inside of it until she tapped his shoulder. He jumped, flinching but quickly recovering. He mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to her, digging into the sweet pastry. Looking back on it, it probably wasn’t a good idea to accept food from a stranger, but the pangs of hunger in his stomach said otherwise. 

He’d dozed off, using the drawstring bag as a pillow as he laid across the bench, when a gentle hand on his shoulder startled him awake. 

‘Are you okay?’ the man asked. ‘Where are your parents?’ Reggie looked down. 

‘I ran away,” he whispered. 

‘Why?’ 

‘They kept yelling,’ he sniffed, ‘and I hated it. They never stop.’ Worry and confusion and a little bit of anger showed on the man’s face, and Reggie retracted a couple inches, before the man knelt down. 

‘Is it okay if I give you a hug?’ he asked. Reggie nodded, hesitating for a moment. But when the man’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, his own skinny arms bolted up and wrapped around his neck, and before he knew it, he was crying into his shoulder, letting the man gently pat his back. 

‘Do you know who I am, mijo?’ he asked. Reggie shook his head. He looked familiar, but his head was too muddled to place him. 

‘I’m King Ray,’ he said. Reggie scrambled into a bow, but Ray’s hands immediately steadied him. ‘Everything’s okay,’ he assured him. ‘If you don’t want to go back to your parents, I could bring you to the palace,’ he offered. Reggie’s eyes lit up. 

‘Really?’

‘Yeah! You could meet Queen Rose and my daughter, Julie. She’s about your age. You’d love her.’ He stood, offering his hand. Reggie hesitated but took it, a slow smile on his face.

Ever since that day, he hadn’t heard his parents shouts, because he hadn’t actually seen them. But Ray was the best father he could’ve ever asked for. 

These furious shouts from the ballroom brought back that one memory, and even though it happened in a split second, he felt every effect in its whole, and it struck him like a well-aimed blow. But he was distracted by the sight before him.

All seven council members with daggers to their throats. 

Reggie wasn’t sure what he was feeling at that moment. It was a mix of confusion, anger, fear, and resolve, though that might’ve just been the adrenaline. 

“Like I said,” Covington shouted over the rising screams of everyone in the room, “you will either surrender peacefully to Kryptonian rule, or we will take it by force.”

More shouts echoed throughout the huge ballroom, arguments and cries of fear, anger, and betrayal. Some bakers and chefs snuck in from the kitchens and saved the council members, which was a huge relief. But when Covington pulled the small remote out of his pocket, and revealed that he was a hologram, everything silenced in Reggie’s ears.

Reggie had heard of seeing red, but this wasn’t the passionate scarlet of anger. This was pure, black, hate. Covington was threatening his people, including the people he cared most about in the entire world. Julie and Carlos, Luke and Alex, Erik, Mira, Carrie and Flynn, and the entire council.  His hands clenched into fists.

“But what about your representatives?” Reggie finally asked. Surely Covington wouldn’t be willing to kill his own people of such high ranking. 

“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Reggie’s stomach dropped. Nobody deserved a death penalty, and given his impressions of Covington, he doubted their crimes were even that severe. 

“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, Reggie’s heart plummeted. Tears welled in his eyes.

Ray. 

“What did you do to my dad?” Julie yelled, being held back by Luke.

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”

Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Reggie was one of the loudest among them despite his aversion to raising his voice. Covington didn’t get to waltz into Dahlia, declare war, and threaten all of these people and just get away with it. He didn’t get to threaten Reggie’s own family without facing consequences.

“Leave my people alone. Get out of our kingdom,” Julie instructed angrily, her voice clear and sharp as a dagger. “You have no place here.”

“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” It wasn’t a lie, either; Reggie was a sincere person, but he’d never meant anything as much as he meant those words. He would not give up on his people. Not ever.

And he wouldn’t give up on his family, either. 

“I truly hate to do this,” Covington said, and Reggie was pretty sure his stomach was at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. But he sprinted to the doors, hauling them open and helping people out as they ran. 

“Everyone out!” he called desperately, tears rimming his vision. “Get as far away as you can.”

“Your highness, where should we go?” Lady Sierra asked, her voice terrified. 

“Run out the front gates,” he instructed, “then through the city. It’s late, but it isn’t raining. Just be careful.” He patted her shoulder and rushed past her, picking up a small child, barely older than six, who was struggling to hold on to his mother’s hand in the chaos. 

“I’ve got him,” he called to her, calming her frantic shouts for her son. Reggie cradled him as gently as he could, bearing a few bruises as he guarded the child from the stampede of terrified Nobles. He ran as quickly as he could and handed him over to his mother, sprinting along the side of the hallway and opening more doors, yelling into the kitchens to any chefs still in there to get out. He did the same as he passed the guards’ quarters, gesturing wildly and helping people out as they jumped from their beds. 

Reggie found Carlos as he ran to the front gate, wrapping him in a huge hug and picking him up over his shoulders, his legs carrying him as fast as he could possibly run. Bounding out the front gate, Carlos over his shoulder, he made it down the hill and put him down. 

“Lead the others as far away as you can, okay?” Carlos nodded, wrapping him in a quick hug.

“I love you,” he said. Reggie nodded.

“Love you too. Now go!” When Carlos took off, Reggie bounded backwards towards the hill. 

“Run through the city,” he instructed as loudly as he could. “Just go straight but keep the palace in view, then wait for further instructions.” People nodded as they ran, and Reggie directed them in the way Carlos had gone. 

“It’ll be okay,” he assured a sobbing woman as she jogged past him. But the tremble in his voice probably wasn’t very convincing. 

Neither was the shockwave that knocked them backwards.

Reggie’s ears were both ringing and silent. He couldn’t tell when or even if he hit the ground, though he had to have, if the sudden blast of cold on his back was any indication, same with the sharp pain on his wrist. It took a moment, but he was finally able to open his eyes, quickly shutting them as a tiny piece of concrete flew over him and sliced open his forehead. He groaned, reaching up to test the wound. It didn’t feel that deep, thankfully, but his dusty fingers still came away streaked with blood. And when he looked back up the hill…

He’d been lucky enough to avoid the fire. His clothes were torn but not singed like so many others. Reggie stood shakily, jumping over bits of debris as he raced back up the hill. 

“JULIE?” he shouted, looking around. “ALEX? LUKE? ERIK?” His shouting didn’t seem to be of any use until he heard a familiar voice to his right. 

“REGGIE?” it called. His head whipped around, worsening his headache, but he didn’t care, because Erik’s tarnished but handsome face was visible across the hill. 

“ERIK!” Reggie sprinted to him, tackling him in a hug, trying to choke back his tears. “I’m so sorry, I-” 

“No,” Erik whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Everything’s okay, I promise.” Reggie nodded into his shoulder. 

“Guys?” someone called. When Reggie’s eyes snapped open to a familiar redheaded girl in a tattered aquamarine dress, a grin broke out on his face. 

“Mira!” They both ran to her, picking her up in a hug and spinning. Reggie pressed a kiss to her hair. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Erik told her, and Reggie nodded his agreement. 

“Me too,” she whispered, smudging the soot on her face as she wiped away tears. “We should look for others.” Reggie nodded, blinking back more tears as he let go, scanning around him. Dozens of battered but breathing Nobles were littered around the field, sitting, standing, and walking, helping each other. 

“Are you okay?” Reggie asked Mx. Genevieve, helping xem up. 

“I think so,” xe coughed. “My head hurts, but I guess that’s to be expected after a bomb.”

“Probably.” Reggie made sure they were steady. “Make sure you’re alright, then try to help anyone else you find, okay? I’m doing the same.” Xe nodded, patting his shoulder. 

As he searched more rubble, he found Flynn and Carrie, clinging to each other and shaking behind a huge piece of debris. They were rattled but uninjured, thankfully. And soon, he found Julie, passed out near the stairs, the violet tulle and silk of her dress torn and dirty. He scooped her up as gently as he could, brushing a curl off her face. She coughed, and Reggie half-hoped she would wake up, but she stayed asleep.

“REGGIE!” His head whipped towards the familiar sound of Carlos’s voice, as well as the voices of the other Nobles who’d escaped in time, rushing back to the palace. He gently set down Julie, leaving her with Mira, and took off towards Carlos, who jumped into his arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. Reggie nodded. 

“I’m okay,” he confirmed. “And hey, if Han Solo can survive it, so can we.” Carlos laughed, but there were still tears streaming down his face. And they just quickened, until they heard an impossibly amazing voice behind them.

“Mijos?” Ray asked, coughing up dust.

“DAD!” they shouted, running to him, hugging him gently but tightly. Reggie sobbed into his chest. 

“We thought you were-”

“I’m okay,” he assured them. “Just a bit rattled. Where’s Julie?”

“She’s over there,” he pointed. “By the stairs.”

“I’ve been around the back of the damage site,” Ray explained, “which is why I hadn’t seen you yet. Almost everyone is okay, which is a relief, but…” he waited until Carlos had walked out of earshot before adding, “there were four confirmed casualties.” Reggie’s heart shattered.

“No,” he whispered. “No, that can’t be right, everyone-”

“It’s nobody we knew,” Ray added, but his eyes glistened with melancholy. Reggie nodded, hugging him again. 

“Can you take me to see Julie?” he asked. Reggie nodded, taking his hand and leading him to the small, clear patch he’d set her down in. Mira and Flynn were both by her side. 

“Has she woken up?” Ray asked. Reggie noticed the looks of shock on the girls’ faces, but they didn’t say anything, just shaking their heads. 

…

Finding Alex and Luke had been a huge relief, and when Julie woke up, something in Reggie’s heart clicked into place. 

There were shattered pieces of hearts throughout their family, found or blood, but those pieces combined into a beautiful mosaic of people who were scarred but lovely, bruised but kind, and loved each other with a passion and gentle nature that would bring them closer. 

----- 

Willie POV

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“Okay,” Lilian called through the large room full of bakers and chefs, “get to your usual posts and finish up any extra dishes for tonight. Then, Alyssa, Conley, Ever, Jenna, Mark, Tori, Aaliyah, and CoCo, you’re in charge of distribution and waiting during the ball. Everyone else, be on standby, but if things go smoothly, you should be able to have an early night.” Willie smiled, but his heart fell.

He’d really hoped he’d be chosen to go to the ball and wait tables. He knew it was stupid, but he really wanted to see Alex. Even if they wouldn’t get to interact, it still would’ve been nice. And he’d spent the whole time he was baking thinking through tons of what-ifs. What if Alex noticed him there? What if they got to chat? If he was lucky, what if they got to dance? What if…

Willie shut down the thoughts. It wasn’t happening anyway. 

He redid his hair in the knot at the nape of his neck, sighing and heading back to the kitchens to make sure the cupcakes were perfect. They were, of course; he’d practiced piping cupcakes since he was little. Eva always loved cupcakes. Her favorite of his were the lemon ones, with the yellow and pink sprinkles. He’d made them on her eighth birthday, and her face lit up when he brought them out, complete with striped candles. Willie grinned at the memory of her trying to blow them out with her missing two front teeth, singing, ‘happy birthday to me, I’m a hundred and three, I’m getting tho old and thoon I’ll be wrinkly!’ It wasn’t the same song that a lot of kids sang, but it was Eva’s. She refused to sing it any other way. Of course, Willie still teased her about her then-inability to pronounce her S’s, and any time it was her birthday, he’d say ‘it’th your birthday, Eva! You’re getting tho old, thoon you’ll be wrinkly!’ It drove her absolutely insane. 

Willie missed those days. 

…

The ball seemed to be going smoothly, so Willie took it upon himself to make a batch of key lime tarts. He hummed to himself, letting his mind wander to all sorts of things (Alex, mostly), shaping the dough into the tins.

That was, until he heard the screaming. 

His stomach dropped and he dashed to the other side of the kitchen, where Alyssa was standing in a defensive position as if someone was about to attack her. Willie joined her, before Lilian snuck back in through the back door. She didn’t say a word, but pointed Alyssa to the frying pan shelf and Willie…

To the knife rack. 

Willie’s hands shook and a cold sweat dripped down his back, but he obeyed Lilian’s grim nod and took one, gripping it in his palm and watching light glint on the blade. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. 

Lilian led everyone in the kitchens to the door, surreptitiously walking out in a single-file line, all the way down the hall to the ballroom. Willie never knew Lilian could be so silent; her steps were completely inaudible. 

As Lilian pushed open the door, eyes flicked their way, and Willie silenced his breathing as he searched for a familiar blue-green-grey pair. And when he finally found them, they were fraught with terror, hope, confusion, and something else that Willie couldn’t quite place. Something lighter but heavier at the same time. 

Alex gave him the tiniest of head-shakes, but he was too far in to stop. 

I’m sorry, Willie mouthed. I care about you, Alex. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to understand what he so desperately wanted to tell him, but Willie did see a resigned nod and a plea for him to be careful coming from Alex’s direction. 

Things seemed to move in slow motion. By some miracle, Covington, who was draped over King Ray’s throne, didn’t notice the nervous glances their way. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though; he was a very self-absorbed person. 

Then, all hell broke loose when Alyssa and six other cooks brought down their pans on the representatives’ heads at once, knocking them out cold and freeing the council members. Willie’s heart raced as he hid behind the throne as Lilian trained her knife on Covington’s back. He was astonished at how steady her voice was, how tall she stood (not just because she was over six feet; she was scarily confident). 

“Or,” she said smoothly, “you could surrender, and go back to your own country.” The knife in her hand didn’t waver, but Covington recoiled. He hadn’t heard her coming. Willie took his chance and got on the other side, his knife pointed at Covington as well. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to use it.

“Don’t hurt these people,” he instructed, proud of how clear and steady his own voice was. 

“A few bakers trying to save their precious leaders,” Caleb purred, but the malice in his voice was like venom. “How sweet. Unfortunately for you, I have this”- he pulled a small remote out of his pocket -”and while I would rather not use it, I will if I must.” Willie’s heart leaped to his throat, and he was achingly aware of the sweat on his back, the curl of hair that had loosened from his bun, the pebble in his shoe.

None of that compared to what he would soon feel if Covington pressed that button, though. Willie had never seen one before, but he knew exactly what it was.

A bomb.

The next minute was chaos. His knife clattered to the floor, heart pounding in his ears, and he jumped backwards, hating his fearful reaction. Lilian, to her credit, held her ground nicely, but the tension in her shoulders had returned in full effect, and her eyebrows creased in the middle. 

“That’s right,” Caleb said over the terrified screams, people running for the doors. “If any of you here have any sense, you’ll run. You shouldn’t have to, of course, but if your leaders continue to be stubborn, it might be for the best.” Willie shook his head. Covington wouldn’t just… do that. 

“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience. “You’re in this room too.”

“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and Willie could’ve sworn he’d seen wrong, but he didn’t. A flicker of transparency, proving that Covington was actually somewhere else. 

A hologram. 

“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”

“But what about your representatives?” a man asked. Willie recognized him as Princess Julie’s older brother, though he couldn’t remember his name.

“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Willie’s hands curled into fists. Was he really willing to just… sacrifice those people? Criminals or not, Willie couldn’t stomach the idea of sacrificing seven people. 

“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Willie’s stomach dropped. 

“What did you do to my dad?” Julie shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking. Willie scanned the crowd, but didn’t find the king. 

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”

Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Willie watched as Princess Julie walked towards the royals’ table, getting in Covington’s face. Willie ducked his head in a bow.  

“Leave my people alone.” Her voice was cold, harsh, but clear and steady. “Get out of our kingdom. You have no place here.”

“Yeah,” her brother interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” Willie nodded

“You can’t make us surrender,” another man informed Covington. Alex nodded, standing as tall as he could, and Willie tried to do the same, swallowing the bile rising in his throat.

“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.” 

“NO,” Alex yelled, and Willie’s stomach dropped. His eyes darted to Alex, wide with fear. If Alex…

Willie shoved away the thought.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors, and Willie did his best to get people out. 

“LILIAN!” he screamed, rushing to her. “Grab Alyssa and the others, then get out as fast as you can!” She shook her head. 

“No, you need to leave too,” she told him. Willie shook his head.

“I’m going to try to get people out of here,” he decided. “I can run fast, don’t worry.”

“What are the odds of getting you to listen to me?”

“Slim to none.” Lilian sighed.

“Be fast.” He nodded, patting her shoulder and letting her dash away. 

Willie sprinted to the hallway outside the ballroom, shouting for people to get out of there, searching for Alex. Hopefully, he’d run, and would be far away by the time Covington made good on his promise. 

But, of course, a familiar voice echoed through his ears.

“WILLIE!” Alex sprinted to him, and Willie’s eyes widened. 

“GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” he said, trying to urge Alex out. “You need to get out before this place blows!” Tears streamed down his face but he ignored them, running to Alex. 

When the shockwave hit him, he was a few meters away from the man he was trying to reach. Willie was pretty sure he’d phased into a different dimension when it passed through his head, leaving it fuzzy and burning but also clear, cold, and sharp. 

He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was; there was no way to know. He felt disconnected from his body. The matter making him up wasn’t really his, it was just his turn to use it before he would inevitably die and be reabsorbed into the world, waiting for some other creature to be reborn from the ashes of his demise. 

When his back hit the ground, Willie felt it, but in the way you feel a headache when you’re half asleep. He registered it, knew he was in pain, but didn’t feel it as much as he should’ve. He barely registered the bruises forming on his shoulders, the heat from the fire on his skin, the flecks of concrete bouncing across his face. He was feeling everything and nothing at all, like a frozen fire, a breeze barely detectable as it rushed against a hurricane. 

Willie caught the faint glinting of a few stars in the sky before blacking out. 

…

When he awoke, it was to shouts. They weren’t urgent, but searching, calling, asking, hoping. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open. It was still night, so he couldn’t have been out for long. What had even happened? Why was he collapsed in the middle of a field full of bits of concrete, wood, fabric, and debris?

Then, everything came rushing back in an instant.

Screams.

Knives.

The shockwave.

Fire. 

Alex. 

Willie bolted upright, ignoring the pounding headache between his temples. Standing shakily, he ran to the first person he could find, which happened to be Alyssa.

“Willie? Is that you?” she called, her purple hair caked with dirt. He nodded, tears blurring his vision as he wrapped her in a hug.

“Are you okay?” he asked. When she nodded against his shoulder, he sighed in relief. 

“Thank God. Have you seen anyone else? Where’s Lilian?”

“She’s helping pass out medical supplies to anyone who was injured,” Alyssa explained. “I’m scanning the grounds for others.” He nodded. 

“Has anyone…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Alyssa looked away, nodding.

“Four people. But everyone else was lucky, as far as we know?”

“Has anybody found King Ray yet?”

“No, but we’re looking. It’ll be okay, I promise.” 

“I know, I just… This is horrible.”

“It really is,” Alyssa agreed. “I’m so sorry you had to go through it.”

“You too.”

She reached up and patted his shoulder, and Willie dashed around the grounds, searching for people, taking extra time to look for a certain blonde prince.

He helped a mother and her daughter up out of a ditch where they’d fallen after avoiding a huge concrete slab, assuring them that everything would be okay. After he’d sent them on their way down the hill, he continued his search. But no matter where he looked, he never found Alex. 

Tears blurred in his eyes, but Willie blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to cry. It wasn’t the time to grieve someone who could be alive. 

He climbed over piles of broken concrete and stone, stamping out small fires along the way, leaving nothing but crumbling, charred ash. 

But no matter where he searched, he couldn’t find Alex. 

He doubled back multiple times, scanning the grounds and looking in every nook and cranny he could find, even going as far as to search the other half of the grounds where the bomb hadn’t affected. But there was no familiar sweep of blonde hair, no sarcastic remark, no eyes that shifted from blue to green to grey, no golden embroidery on a blue suit. 

Then, he found himself running through the gardens again, searching, and ending up all the way at the back end in the park where he’d tried to teach Alex to skate. 

Willie brushed the petals of one of the roses between his fingers, the sweet aroma floating to his head and making him dizzy. The grass was cold and wet with dew, but he didn’t care, embracing the chill rather than the fire he’d been so close to. He sank to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest.

Alex was gone.

And there was nothing Willie could do. 

He was heartbroken. He didn’t know Alex as well as he wanted to. He wanted to get to know every aspect of him, every quirk and flaw and edge, no matter what, but now he was gone, a memory floating away on a wind, gentle but cruel and unrelenting. Willie ducked his head into his knees, letting his emotions flow as he sobbed.

He was always a quiet crier, and it made him feel insignificant and forgettable. For once, though, he didn’t care. Let the universe forget him. Let him flow through the galaxy as nothing more than a speck, a dot on a timeline, a splash of color in an ever-growing sea of humanity. 

He cursed himself for falling in love so quickly, for not trying harder to get Alex to leave before the blast. He cursed himself for ever having met him at all, maybe then they’d both be alive, and it would be better in the long run. But nothing could ever be perfect. Willie knew that. So why, why did it hurt so badly when the one thing he knew would never work out ended so abruptly?

He tugged on the key on his necklace, the familiar grooves indenting his skin. He was shaking, the cold darkness like a blanket, fading as the sky gradually lightened, barely noticeable even as the sun began to paint the horizon with streaks of gold. 

Then, the impossible happened. At least, it should’ve been impossible.

He heard Alex calling his name.

He knew it couldn’t be real, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his head snapped up, half-sure he was hallucinating. But Alex was running closer, and soon Willie was standing up, walking slowly, tentatively towards him, like if he moved too fast it might scare away the slim possibility that he was real, and not a cruel trick of the light.

It might’ve worked, too, because when he leaped into Alex’s hug, he didn’t phase through him, didn’t collapse back to the ground. Alex caught him, and Willie couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Probably both, he decided as he wrapped his arms tighter around Alex’s back. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered shakily, feeling Alex’s head shake over his. 

“No,” he said. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was doing, I should’ve grabbed you and ran…” Then it was Willie’s turn to shake his head. His breath hitched as he realized just how close they were. He could’ve counted the faint freckles dotting the prince’s nose, traced constellations into his skin, searched his eyes for answers he didn’t know existed. 

And then, he kissed him. 

Willie had always thought that, when people described sparks flying during a kiss, they were exaggerating, but in that moment he realized that it was incredibly, beautifully real. Sparks flew from his heart, leaving flecks of light and euphoria on his skin. Alex’s lips were soft and warm over his, slick with tears. It was broken and imperfect, but Willie wouldn’t change a second of it.

When they came up for air, Willie was smiling, but more tears were rolling down his face. 

“When you weren’t with the survivors, I-” he choked off into another sob. “I thought I’d lost you,” he finally whispered. Alex shook his head, and Willie delved deeper into the embrace, memorizing every detail that he could, the way Alex’s hands felt on his back, the fabric of his suit, how his shoulder was perfectly level with Willie’s mouth.

“You’ll never lose me,” Alex whispered to him.

A few moments later, Willie breathed back, “I hope not.” 

[offda-rails-art]

Been a while since I’ve enjoyed art. I finally finished my story-no color becuase paint is expensive and I can expand more by doing what I love most-sketching. Slight gore warning, like typical horror movie gore⚠️

Thank you for anyone following me recently, even though I haven’t been very active. I hope this makes up for it. Peace and love. Lochlan’s story part one👇

The countryside of Hennessy had a horrible storm roll in. It poured endlessly all night and into morning. The seemingly endless pounding rain made everything a muddy slippery mess, and with that the tracks were overflowed with water. Travel for any engine was dangerous so it was decided that everyone would take the day off and wait out the storm inside. Old Red, Donner, and Cracker Jack had already been in the roundhouse that night and early in the morning they were told “no work for today. Too dangerous.”

Lochlan had still been on his job pulling a long train all night. Something that had been expected to be finished by early morning was delayed by the rain. Lochlan went along the tracks carefully and managed to deliver his train by late afternoon meanwhile the rest of the engines back at the roundhouse were confined to their berths all day. And with that the group of 3 were very bored.

Lochlan backed his way into his respective berth, he was soaked from being in the down pour all day. He was also visibly tired from his tedious journey of start stop all through the wet slippery tracks. Before the poor big engine could get a word out Cracker Jack piped up. “About time! Reds been going on and on about silly stories. We’ve traded back and forth on interesting ones of our own. Well, Donner and I at least. Reds giving the whole “Wild West romance, forbidden engine/human love” spiel again.” Cracker Jack groaned.

“My recounts of pistol packing cowgirls are not romance stories! I’m simply making it clear that women are just as dangerous as men! That’s all!” Red growled quick to defend himself. His face turning slightly pink.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that you old fart.” Cracker Jack smirked. Even Donner gave a slight chuckle in agreement.

Lochlan smiled and shook what water dripped down his face off. Cracker Jack grinned up at Lochlan expectantly. “Suppose you have anything of your own to share?” Cracker Jack asked, his grin widened hoping that Lochlan would have a story to tell. At least one that wouldn’t put him to sleep. Or any about his love interests.

“Me? What kind of story? I don’t do much that interesting.” Lochlan sighed and tried to think of anything worth telling.

“Lochlan. You’re huge. You see the world from a different point of view everyday. You do the more than any other engine on the railway. You’ve been everywhere, you must have something?” Cracker Jack retorted. Lochlan frowned and clicked his tongue in thought. A loud crack of thunder boomed in the background and shook the roundhouse. The 4 engines jumped at the sudden loud noise. The natural fearful reaction to the loud noise gave Lochlan an idea.

“What about a scary story?” He smiled and knew exactly what to share. The other three raised their brows in interest. Cracker Jack noticeably grew attentive.

“Yes! I think we can all agree that horror over a whole romance novel is sure to help pass the time!” Cracker Jack grinned. It took Red a second to process the slight dig made at him. He only grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Good! I have just the one! It happened the very first week I arrived here.” Lochlan grinned and cleared his throat to begin.

When Lochlan first arrived at Hennessy he was immediately tasked with pulling long trains of heavy and important cargo for distances many other engines couldn’t travel. He traveled from late at night till very early morning so naturally his rest time in the afternoon was spent in any noisy bustling yard he could manage to get a break in. Most of the time Lochlan couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He didn’t mind not napping but peace and quiet was something he could definitely enjoy. It seemed that wouldn’t be an option for a while with his break schedule. So, Lochlan decided to eavesdrop on his human counterparts. They did after all have interesting things to share. While in a yard one afternoon the prefect opportunity to eavesdrop came in, a group of engineers decided to take their break not far away from him. They sat down on some old flatbeds and joked around for a while. The oldest man in the group began talking about his past colleague who was a Native American. He recounted all kinds of interesting things his colleague shared. From ancestral meanings to cultural symbols, but then he brought up something strange. Lochlan grew curious and listened in best he could. The engineer asked the others if they ever heard what a “wendigo” was. The two men shook their heads. Lochlan listened in as the man explained to them what it was, and the reason for bringing it up.

The engineer grew serious before beginning, “ a couple years back a rancher went missing out by his home just a good ten miles from the south side of Hennessy. No one knew how he could possibly go missing, he was in touch with the locals and was a very smart man. He knew the wildlife and his homeland well enough to where an animal attack was ruled out. He carried a gun on him all the time to stay safe and no one would want to harm a lonely rancher with not much of anything to give anyway. Robbery and murder was ruled out too, especially after his home was found kept well with nothing out of the ordinary or missing. He just seemed to have vanished along with his horse and dog. The sheriff decided he could’ve left unannounced for private reasons and perhaps he would turn up soon. It wasn’t until a week later a hunter stumbled across what was left of the poor rancher. He was so severely mangled that the only thing that showed proof it was him was his hat, horse and dog. Whatever creature that did that couldn’t possibly be a bear, or even a pack of wolves. Only the rancher looked like something had eaten parts of him. His horse and dog were for the most part untouched, the possibility a rabid bear attacked him was brought up due to the massive claw marks and slashes embedded in his horse and dog. And how badly the man was shredded. But what bear could be that big? A search for whatever rabid bear or sick pack of wolves was put out but nothing was recovered.

No one wanted to admit but they were scared. The scene was so brutal it seemed almost impossible another living thing could do that. It was swept under the rug and everyone tried to forget about it in hopes it would just go away. It seems there’s no answer for what happened right? Well your wrong, that’s were this “wendigo” comes in. Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh, they crave taunting people and torturing them until giving them a brutal horrible death only to feast on their scared poor souls. They tower above the tallest pine trees, make blood curdling screams, and can strip the flesh from your bones instantly. He wasn’t attacked by a rabid animal, he was murdered and eaten alive by one of those foul beasts. Only something that big and mercilessly brutal could’ve done such a thing. And why eat just the person? An animal would’ve taken all it could get. Dog and horse would’ve been part of the main course as well.”

The two other men who listened in shuddered upon the end of the tale. Lochlan was intrigued but was interrupted by his crew coming to fetch him from his break. He needed to get back to work and couldn’t listen in anymore. He sighed and set off to collect his train, he had plenty of time to ponder what he just heard on his long quiet journey.

Lochlan enjoyed the unexplainable, everything had an explanation. An answer. While the story of the wendigo was interesting to him he couldn’t help but believe it was simply a tall tale. Even with how big and goofy the engine could be, he wasn’t gullible. The only way he’d believe something is if he witnessed it first hand. And as far as he knew he never saw any forest animal that towered over pine trees or had a specific desire for human flesh. But for some reason something inside him wouldn’t let go of it. The story was kept in the back of his mind and not forgotten.

Lochlans first week on Hennessy’s railway was almost over. He already gotten familiar with the area and his routes in the short time he was there. His job went swillingly and it was something he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days doing. Oh, and no strange gigantic monsters hungry for human flesh appeared. There was one route Lochlan hadn’t traveled yet, and the unkept longer line of tracks was only taken if necessary but no reason was ever really given as to why it wasn’t used. But with only almost a week of experience on the railway he had a lot more to learn and explore.

While Lochlan pulled a long train of cargo with the morning newspaper edition, important mail, and dairy that needed to get to its destination quickly in order to not spoil he came to a stop when he realized his normal route back into Hennessy was blocked. Someone had derailed and a big mess of tar trucks were scattered everywhere. Lochlans engineers grew frustrated and argued with the crewmen in charge of cleaning up the wreck. “Listen pal, it’s going to take all night to clean this mess up. You’ll just have to wait until morning to pass through or go through the south side.” The agitated worker groaned and pointed up ahead to a route Lochlan wasn’t familiar with.

“Well. We most certainly ain’t got time to wait. I’ve got the morning paper to deliver and dairy that will spoil! Come on big feller we’ll just have to go through the south side which will still delay our schedule because some incompetent idiot can’t operate an engine worth Jack shit.” Lochlans engineer growled and made his way back to his cab. Lochlan looked on curiously up ahead at this new route. The grass ahead was severely overgrown, and by the looks of the track no one seemed to have been down it for a decade. His cow plow would come in handy to shove away any overgrowth that littered the track up ahead. Lochlan puffed down the track without incident. He sliced through any overgrowth that littered his path, and was thankful for his bright headlamp because it seemed any lights that lit up the track before had been left not repaired. Lochlan had come upon something odd as he plunged further down the unused route. A herd of deer were stopped close by the tracks, what was odd to him was that the animals didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. It was normal for the forest animals to hurriedly clear the way when any loud engine chuffed close, to the animals an engine was another predator to run away from. But the large herd of deer stood stalk still, their backs turned towards him and their heads cocked up looking into the distance at something. They didn’t dare move and their fear was focused on something Lochlan couldn’t see. Lochlan raised a brow and chuffed by but the deer didn’t move. Even as steam whooshed out and his own massive frame rumbled on the rails shaking the ground. The deer seemed to care less about him. It was one of the most peculiar things he had seen, but he had no idea it was about to get worse.

Tumblr limits posts and I have to many illustrations to do one part. So I’ll have to skeet part two in another separate post. Stick around for the second part if you enjoy so far. Thanks so much for people who’ve stuck around my blog and actually wanted to read my stories. I really really appreciate it.

[august-bleeds-red]

Be A Good Boy, Brahms - Chapter Two

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four

~

You don’t know how for long you’ve been walking. You don’t even know where you are. The time was 02:47 when your phone died. What time was it when you left the station? You don’t remember. You only had time to grab a handful of things before the crowd started gathering around the body.

 The body you’d left there.

 The rain is starting to come down in earnest now. You’re soaked to the bone and tired to the point of exhaustion, the soles of your shoes feeling ready to peel away at any moment. Part of you wants to simply curl up at the side of the road and sleep, hardly caring if the cold or a passing car takes you once your eyes close. How long would it be until the police found you?

 You’d been as careful as you could on the journey to . . . wherever this was. You’d left your car at home, picked a train almost at random and bought a ticket to the end of the line. The sprawling metropolis of the city faded away to dark countryside, the lights of civilisation becoming more sporadic as you travelled deeper into rural England. You didn’t even recognise the name of the village as it flashed past the window. You pulled the hood of your jacket down further over your face as you left the carriage, but nobody stopped you or even glanced your way. It was nearing midnight – far too late to be paying attention to trainline stragglers. You could have hailed a taxi from the rank outside the station, asked the driver to drop you off as far as the cash in your pocket would allow, but that would be another person to remember your face, so you hitched your rucksack further up your shoulders and headed off into the misty night on foot.

 The distant sound of an approaching engine sets your heart racing and your eyes dart through the drizzly gloom for a place to hide. The road forks not ten metres ahead, a narrower path leading off towards the left. You start to run, rucksack bouncing against your back, shoes slapping against the tarmac. The new path slopes uphill, but you keep running, until the surrounding trees start to thicken, and you feel suitably distanced from anyone who might be passing via the main road. The slim trunks give way to broad pines, casting thick beams of moonlight across the ground ahead of you. Shielded by the overhanging branches, the rain eases from a ceaseless torrent to heavy droplets, splashing down around you. As you were leaving the flat, you had the sense to grab the sleeping-bag you once used to go camping with your dad, but don’t want to stop and set up base just yet. Another mile or so away from the road and you should be good for now. Then, come the light of morning, you can take stock and decide what you’re going to do.

 Maybe you shouldn’t have run. Guilty people always run, right? Maybe if you’d just stayed and explained what happened . . . but no, who would have listened? Who would have believed that an officer so upstanding and respected as your stepfather could be guilty of such a crime as attempted murder? It was what had kept your mother from reporting him for so long. He was clever – never bruising her in places it would easily show – but his rage towards you made him sloppy tonight. But even the bruises you’d seen around your little brother’s neck would not be evidence enough to condemn him, you knew that. The law would never act against one of their own, so you’d had to.

 Which moment had made you a murderer? When you’d crossed the balcony to where he stood, puffing on one of those disgusting cigars like he hadn’t just tried to kill your brother? When your hands had pushed against the broad space of his back, catching him off balance and sending him stumbling over the rail? Or when his flailing body had landed with a sickening crunch on the pavement seventeen stories below?

 Something large begins to loom out of the shadows ahead of you and you slow. It’s a set of huge, wrought-iron gates, supported by two intimidating brick pillars, open wide enough for a car to pass easily through. There’s no name or number, no indication as to what may lie beyond. Curiosity has always been your fatal flaw, so you approach, keeping an ear out for the sound of tires or footsteps. The house that awaits at the end of the long driveway is unlike any you’ve seen in the city or the surrounding boroughs; it’s tall and grand, the liquid light of dawn illuminating what seem to be turrets in the architecture. It’s beautiful, in an American gothic style of build. Certainly not the kind of English manor you’re used to in period dramas. The moment you stop before the front steps, your feet and calves begin screaming in protest, as though sensing the possibility of a place to rest. Even if you could just sit on the porch for a while, at least until the sun rose.

 The moment your butt hits the floor, the weight of the last twenty-four hours’ events settles on you like a heavy blanket. You’re hungry, thirsty, but all you can think of doing right now is getting an hour or two of sleep. You unravel your sleeping bag and crawl inside, resting your shoes atop your folded jacket beside you. Your sodden T-shirt and jeans don’t make for very comfortable sleepwear, but you’re certainly not about to strip to your skivvies on some stranger’s porch, especially if the milkman may be along within the next couple of hours.

 You sleep fitfully, the image of your stepfather’s face floating repeatedly to the surface of your mind like a photograph in water, and you’ll awake scared and sweating, despite the bone-chilling cold. The sun rises milky yellow just beyond the treeline, and you decide it must be late enough for you to risk knocking on the door. With any luck, they might be able to tell you how to reach the nearest village, where you can . . . you don’t know. Gathering your things, you shoulder your pack and approach the heavy wooden door, plucking the dampest patches of your T-shirt from your body.

 You notice the door is open just as you raise your fist to knock. Perhaps they forgot to lock up last night – a huge house like this in the middle of nowhere, probably not much foot traffic to run the risk of burglars. You give a few loud knocks, anyway, but no response comes.

 “Um, hello?” you call, pushing the door open just a little further.

 The inside of the house is as impressive as its exterior, all dark wood and teal blue rugs, and quiet as a graveyard. There is a blanket of stillness everywhere, giving the place an air of abandonment. You walk further into the entrance hall, staring up the grand staircase to where a semi-circular balcony overlooks the lower floor.

 “Hello?”

 Nothing – no movement, no sound; not the grumbling of pipes nor the hum of a heating system. You drop your rucksack on the floor beside a great stone fireplace and take a few tentative steps up the stairs. As you reach the top, you notice a large portrait hanging on the opposite wall of three people – a man, a woman and a small, angelic-looking boy. You wonder if this is the family of the house.

 “Hello?”

 Your third attempt also goes unanswered and, with no cars parked outside and the open door, you’re convinced the place truly is empty, at least for now. Your feet make no sound on the carpet stair-runner as you descend, picking up your pack by one strap and going in search of the kitchen. It’s quite small and surprisingly modern for such a grand mansion and, with only the smallest twinge of guilt, you conceal some packaged foods from the cupboards and fridge in your pack. You pick an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and take a bite, the crunching of your jaw loud in the silent room. You didn’t realise just how hungry you were and tuck a second apple into your coat pocket. Through the window, you can see a rambling garden stretching out across the grounds, the grass and leaves tinted blue in the dawn light.

 Leaving your pack by the front door, you decide to have a look around. A great house like this must have at least twenty rooms, and its unlikely you’ll get another chance to explore anywhere so richly furnished. You briefly wonder how far the behind you the police might be, but try to calm the panic that rises at that particularly thought. You’re no good half-dead on the run, and this might be your last safe space for a while.

 Heading back upstairs, you decide to investigate the nearest bedroom. It looks like it might belong – or at least once belonged – to a child, but there aren’t any toys you’d recognise from a modern child’s nursery. The clockwork figures and wooden mannequins look like objects from the 1950’s, as do the books on the shelves. Some of the toys are scattered over the floor by the bed, in contrast to the almost military neatness of the rest of the room, and one of the frames pictures is hanging askew on the wall. Almost automatically, you reach across and straighten it, and that’s when you see it – on the rug, a small, dark red stain, about the size of a side plate. A ripple of unease passes through you, though you know it could be something as innocuous as cranberry juice or ink.  

 As you’re about to exit the room, you notice something else – one of the doors on the opposite side of the landing has a large hole through it. The edges are rough, as though someone had forced their fist through in an attempt to reach whoever was on the other side. You wonder if there was some kind of a burglary, and you’re ten steps away from discovering the horribly mangled bodies of the man, woman and boy you saw in the portrait. Perhaps the assailant is still here, lurking behind one of these doors. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something a little unusual – on a large wooden trunk at the foot of the child’s bed is a long metal pipe with a curved end, kind of like the head of a harpoon. Picking this up, you venture out into the hall and move, as quietly as you can, towards the broken door. The room beyond is trashed – clothes scattered everywhere, and an old-fashioned telephone lying broken on the floor. The wardrobe door is standing open, and as you move closer, you see a strange panel standing open at the back. Glancing over your shoulder to make sure the room is still deserted, you push open the panel to reveal a passageway, just wide enough for a grown man to move through, built into the inside frame of the house. Part of you knows it would be an incredibly bad idea, but the other part of you that’s holding the makeshift weapon, allows your feet to lead you inside the secret passage.

 The tunnel is dark and dusty, dimly illuminated by the light of the rooms outside and the occasional electric light bracketed to the brick interior. A couple of times, you come across large gaps in the walls, where the wooden slats have been shattered by a great force. By peeping through the slats, you can see exactly whereabouts in the house you are. After ten or so minutes of sneaking, you spy a bright shaft of electric light coming from beneath a door ahead of you. Like Alice venturing further down the rabbit hole, you reach out and push against the wood.

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 31

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30

The Lan Sect camp is small. It is also a bit pitiful, with a distinct lack of tents, bedrolls, or any other necessary accommodations.

Still, Wei Ying is impressed by their diligence. Long before he is aware that there is a camp in the vicinity, a lookout has already spotted them and signaled their approach. The location had not been carelessly chosen either. The sight lines to the north, east, and south are clear, and to the west, a rugged hill rises sharply, hiding the camp from the Immortal Mountain watchtowers.  

He does not have to ask how the site for the camp was chosen. He is already beginning to suspect that Lan QiRen has many more layers than he lets on, aside from the unexpected sense of humor.

Three other Nie Sect disciples have caught up with them on the outskirts of YiLing, providing a small escort. According to Nie XuanYu, another dozen are following a distance behind, ensuring that the Emperor’s presence remains a secret. Lan Zhan is walking by his side, his posture dignified and reserved. He does not speak.  

Despite clearly intending to remain out of sight, the Lan Sect disciples have not gone as far as to trade in their white uniforms for something a little less obtrusive. Among them, it is easy to pick out Nie MingJue’s dark shape, which makes the figure next to him that of Lan XiChen. The two people across from them are unfamiliar. He takes one of them for a Lan Sect disciple precisely due to the color of robes, the white layers glowing brightly in the darkness. It is not until the figure turns, displaying an equally white blindfold, that Wei Ying stumbles a step.

“Uncle?”

The answering grin, visible even in the gloom, propels him forward.

“Uncle!”

Forgetting he is no longer twelve years old, he crosses the last bit of distance at a run, and nearly knocks Xiao XingChen over with his exuberance. XingChen laughs, his grip as tight as Wei Ying’s.

Oh, but when had uncle become so small?

Nearly four years have passed since their last parting. Is it possible that Wei Ying had grown so much, that he no longer has to lift his gaze to see XingChen smile? Unexpectedly, he feels his eyes prickle, and rubs his face with both hands, covering the sudden wistfulness with a laugh. He is happy to see that uncle’s faithful shadow had not grown smaller, still towering over them both.

The man attempts to bow, and Wei Ying latches on to his forearms, keeping him upright.

“Song Lan. Did I not say my uncles should never bow to me?”

A ripple of shock travels through the surrounding Lan disciples. The Empress’ brother is conspicuous enough, his sword and blindfold easily giving him away, but the man at his side had been taken for a simple bodyguard. To hear the Emperor address him as family raises more than one speculative whisper.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Song Lan says, “I had forgotten.”

“Ah, ah, now I am Your Majesty, but the last time you were at the Immortal Mountain, you called me a rotten little troublemaker. You threatened to kick my royal backside off the rooftop if I insisted on staying out past midnight. Do you remember that?”

The politely respectful expression on Song Lan’s face shifts into fond exasperation, “I am afraid my memory is especially poor lately, Your Majesty.”

Before he could think of a way to respond, Wei Ying suddenly realizes that Lan Zhan’s presence, which had been steady at his side since YiLing, is no longer there.

He turns to find him standing a few steps back with Lan XiChen and Nie MingJue, obviously attempting to remain invisible.

“Lan Zhan!”

Although he thinks he has never seen Lan Zhan look this alarmed, not even when he had mistaken Wei Ying for an assassin, he grabs the edge of the voluminous sleeve anyway, excited to introduce the man he means to marry.

“Come meet my uncle.”

Lan Zhan allows himself to be tugged forward, and offers a formal greeting, his posture rigid, his face unreadable.

Uncle is all gentle politeness, admitting that he had been the one to send the Lan Sect disciples into YiLing, unaware that his request had gone directly against the Sect Leader’s orders. He expresses regret for having placed them at risk, and from Lan XiChen’s expression, Wei Ying surmises that uncle had already apologized once.

XingChen inquires after a few of the Lan Sect members he had met on his travels, mentions that he dearly misses the excellent cuisine at CaiYi town, and compliments the Lan Sect efforts in LianYi during the drought.

In short, uncle is trying, to the best of his ability, to put Lan Zhan at ease. But although Lan Zhan is unfailingly courteous in return, his palpable discomfort does not wane.

Suddenly, Wei Ying feels guilty.

It occurs to him that he has done nothing but pull and push Lan Zhan in every possible direction for the past five days. Less than an hour ago, he had done a terrible job of confessing how he feels, managing to not give voice to any of his carefully planned out, honorable intentions. His fumbling is unlikely to have produced anything other than frustration and confusion, to which now, Lan Zhan must add a dose of casual banter with the Shan Empire’s notorious Rogue Prince.

The moment XingChen runs out of pleasantries, Wei Ying tugs on Lan Zhan’s sleeve again, but gently this time, trying to convey an apology, “Lan Zhan, we should go sit by the fire. The night is getting cold. Uncle, come sit down and tell me what brings you to YiLing.”

“Your Majesty,” Nie MingJue cuts in, “it is quite late. If you mean to enter by the Five Phoenix Gate instead of sneaking in the same way we had snuck out, I am afraid that delaying your return will only work to our disadvantage. We should start back the moment the rest of the Nie Sect arrives from YiLing.”

Wei Ying cringes. He had not even considered the mechanics of returning with the rest of the Lan Sect disciples, let alone with uncle in tow. Uncle Jiang will be upset, and Madam Yu-- he shudders. Best to not think of unpleasant things until they are upon him.

“Very well, please instruct the Lan Sect to break camp. Uncle, will you come with us?”

XingChen turns to Song Lan, and Wei Ying thinks that even after all these years, it is still eerie to see, how they seem to share a look of understanding.

“We are hunting,” XingChen says, “so our stay must be short.”

Wei Ying waves his hand, “I knew that much without being told. You are terrible uncles, both of you. I know you would not have come all the way to YiLing just for my birthday.”

The fond exasperation on their faces is now identical.  

“Tell us what you are hunting,” Wei Ying grins, “Perhaps we can help.”

“Not what,” XingChen says, “but who.”

“A person?” Wei Ying exclaims in surprise, “an ordinary person?”

“There is nothing ordinary about this person,” Song Lan says, his expression turning hard, “So far, over three hundred people have been slaughtered by him. He has obliterated four villages and two small clans, leaving no one behind.”

Wei Ying feels a chill, “Who is he?”

“We do not know,” XingChen says, his calm edged with frustration, “He leaves no witnesses. One merchant, who had happened upon a village not long after everyone in it had been killed, spoke of seeing a young man, a boy, still alive. He could have been a lone survivor, or he could have been the perpetrator, but he was long gone by the time we arrived. So far, we have been following the trail of dead bodies across the Empire, but know little more than we did months ago.”

“You think he is here,” Lan Zhan asks, his discomfort seemingly forgotten, “In YiLing?”

“The trail had gone cold in LanLing,” Song Lan says, “but there was an incident between LanLing and YiLing, a group of bodies discovered in an old barn. The method by which they were killed was similar enough to bring us here.”

“I do not understand,” Wei Ying says slowly, “There are appropriate channels in place to deal with ordinary murders, even if they are beyond gruesome. What are you not telling me?”

Song Lan glances at XingChen again, but this time, XingChen ignores him, the twist of his mouth tight and unhappy.

“You know why the murders are occurring,” Lan Zhan says coldly, “There is a purpose to them.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is hard and determined, as if he means to shake them both until the information they are holding back flows forth. He looks grim, his spine straight, his fingers tightly wrapped around the sword. He looks dangerous. He looks regal.

Wei Ying feels his face tingle. There is an uncomfortable coil of heat building in his stomach at the sight, and he bites his tongue, hoping the flash of pain will stop the heat from spreading.

“Resentful energy,” Song Lan says.

XingChen looks even more unhappy now, but he does not make a move to stop Song Lan from speaking.

“We think he has found a way to harvest and store resentful energy.”

“Impossible,” Lan Zhan breathes, “even YanLing DaoRen himself could not--“ he cuts off abruptly, mouth snapping shut.

Wei Ying is still reeling from the information, not quite able to come up with the right words. But he immediately understands why Lan Zhan has fallen silent. YanLing DaoRen could not store resentful energy, but his failed attempts are the stuff of nightmares. Raving mad, he had threatened to shift rivers and level mountains once his experiments were complete. But in the end, the only place he had ever been able to store resentful energy was his own fragile human shell, which had rotted from inside out, unable to contain the power he craved.

Wei Ying clears his throat, “How can you be sure he has found a way to store it? Perhaps he is only following in YanLing DaoRen’s footsteps.”

Song Lan shakes his head, “Over three hundred people gruesomely slaughtered by him alone? Taking in that much resentful energy would have driven him mad. He could not have passed all this time unnoticed. The signs of his deterioration would be obvious to anyone who crosses his path. No,” he shakes his head, “I am afraid we must assume that he has succeeded where YanLing DaoRen has failed.”

“The greatest threat since YanLing DaoRen,” Lan Zhan says softly, “and you did not inform anyone. You did not send a word of warning to the Emperor.”

His voice is soft, but the grip on his sword is now so tight, that Wei Ying can see his fingers turning white from strain. He has seen Lan Zhan angry before, but never like this. This fury is cold, and devastating, and magnificent to behold.  

“Did it not occur to you,” Lan Zhan says, “that he is heading towards YiLing for a reason? That the Emperor’s birthday festival in YiLing is precisely the sort of chaos in which he can be easily concealed? That hundreds of visitors are entering and exiting the Immortal Mountain City each day, being screened by ordinary guards who would never sense an object filled with resentful energy? Did it not occur to you that the Emperor is the most likely target of this creature, and that he should be warned?”

“WangJi,” XiChen’s voice comes from behind them, a gentle warning.

He moves to stand by Lan Zhan’s shoulder, a calming presence next to Lan Zhan’s cold fury.

“Please forgive my brother,” XiChen says, “he spoke in haste. He means no disrespect.”

Lan Zhan’s expression clearly states that he may have spoken in haste, but that the disrespect was meant and well deserved.

Wei Ying does not want Lan Zhan upset with uncle. He does not want Song Lan angry with Lan Zhan for disrespecting uncle. But he can do absolutely nothing about either of those things, because his mind is utterly preoccupied by the fact that Lan Zhan is dangerous, and beautiful, and incensed on his behalf.

Lan Zhan is afraid that this madman means to hurt Wei Ying. Lan Zhan is worried about him. Lan Zhan cares about him. Lan Zhan cares about him.

He feels his mouth trying to stretch into a smile, and curses himself six times over. Everyone around him is tense enough to draw swords, he should not be grinning like an idiot.

Lan Zhan cares about him!

“Your Majesty.”

XiChen is looking at him. There is something uncomfortably knowing in his gaze.

Wei Ying clears his throat, then does it again. He is afraid his voice will come out hoarse and obviously besotted.

“Lan Zhan is right,” he says, “I may be well protected, but every Sect Leader and Young Master in the Empire is currently residing at the Immortal Mountain. They may all be at risk. Why would you not send word?”

Song Lan has moved closer to XingChen, as if he means to protect him from Lan Zhan’s fierce gaze. He opens his mouth to speak, but XingChen silences him with a touch to the elbow.

“I believe the Young Master is correct,” XingChen sighs, “We were wrong to conceal it for so long. It has been a frequent subject of discord between us, this decision. But Song Lan does not understand the power dynamics at court. He does not understand the precarious balance involved in ruling all the Sects in the cultivation world. YanLing DaoRen’s name still invokes fear and mistrust. I was afraid-- I was afraid that the truth would sow panic. Worse, that it may give some of the Sects an opportunity they have long sought, to remove YanLing DaoRen’s bloodline from the seat of power, and take the throne for themselves.”

“We intended to catch him long before now,” Song Lan says roughly, “We could only be certain that he is heading in the direction of YiLing on the second day of the festival. The trail was days old by then.”

“I am sorry to have placed the Lan disciples at risk,” XingChen says softly, “but once we learned that you were wandering around YiLing on your own, unprotected, we used whatever means we had at our disposal.”

“I was not unprotected,” Wei Ying says absently, “Lan Zhan was with me.”

He spends a few moments preoccupied with the idea that the incidents at the Immortal Mountain and the man uncle is hunting must somehow be connected. But no matter how he turns the events over, he cannot see that they have anything in common. A man who had slaughtered over three hundred people in order to collect the resentful energy from their corpses does not seem like someone who would go through the trouble of coating Lan Zhan’s teacup with poison.

Still thinking so, he realizes that everyone else has fallen silent. Song Lan is frowning at Lan Zhan. Xiao XingChen is smiling softly, his head turned in the direction of the camp, as if privy to something amusing that only he can hear. XiChen is smiling softly too, his eyes trained in the opposite direction.

Lan Zhan is not smiling. He is staring at Wei Ying, his ears red, his expression somehow lost, as if Wei Ying had done something preposterous again.

Wei Ying is pretty sure he has not done anything to merit that expression.

“Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head and looks away. Behind them, Nie MingJue clears his throat.

“Your Majesty, I do not mean to interrupt, but the Nie Sect is all accounted for, and the Lan Sect is ready as well. We should head back.”

Wei Ying nods. During all the fascinating revelations, he has managed to forget what waits for him at the Immortal Mountain.

He thinks he would rather face a mass-murdering madman than Madam Yu.