#and immediately took back control of all future hosting duties

[buckedpotato]

eddie serves pizza on a charcuterie board and that's why he's not allowed to host 118 parties anymore

[the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy]

KW 2024- Day 4: Post Battle Reunion

I know I am *technically* posting this on Friday, but whatever lol.

Anyway, my take for Day 4 of Kataang Week hosted by @kataang-week

Prompt: Post-Battle Reunion - Thursday, August 1st

Chapter Summary: Aang and Katara reunite after the Hundred-Year War is finally over.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3.2 K

It was done.

Aang had finally defeated Fire Lord Ozai.

The young airbender stood on the hills of Wulong Forest, looking at the horizon for many moments, seeing Sozin’s comet fade away into the night.

Suki, Sokka, and Toph were all celebrating and talking about Aang’s victory over Ozai. They talked about the battle, how he took his bending away, how they almost died too many times, and how much they despised the Fire Lord. Aang appreciated his friends’ enthusiasm, but he was too lost in thought to even think about it properly and be grateful for them. His mind was lingering on all the events that just happened, and couldn’t seem to focus on the present.

Aang’s mind then turned to one particular person:

Katara.

Was she okay? Is she still alive?

Aang’s heart rapidly thought at the thought of her, and these beats were filled with worry, concern, and fear. He had to go to her, immediately, but his mind was still paralyzed.

“So,” Sokka began. “I think it’s time we return to the Fire Nation now. We need to go support Zuko and Katara.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Suki chimed in. “Let’s head to one of the ships and get going. The quicker we get there, the better.”

Everyone began walking towards the remaining ship and made their way on it. Aang took a while to follow due to the exhaustion, but he eventually catched up. Suki and Sokka were preparing the ship for departure, and Toph was beside them. The young earthbender suddenly felt a strange energy coming from Aang, who was sitting a few paces behind him. She sensed his exhaustion, both spiritually and physically.

“Twinkle toes, what’s wrong?” she asked with concern. “You just saved the world just now, but you don’t look too happy. Why?”

“I don’t really know,” Aang responded. “It’s just… Everything that just happened is too hard to process. Thousands of people died, so many lost their families, their friends, loved ones, so many people had to leave their homes, and even though it’s all over, I don’t know what will happen in the future. It all feels so uncertain.”

Toph did not exactly know how to relieve Aang’s worries, for he was right. Even if the war was over, the future was drowned with uncertainty. She thought about her own life, and realized how it was also filled with a void of uncertainty.

“Well, we don’t know what’s going to happen in the future,” Toph began, “But that is not in our control. I guess we are just going to have to live the present, and live each day as if it were the last.”

Aang felt a small weight lift off his back thanks to Toph’s words. “Thank you, Toph, that really helps.” Toph smiled at him and went back to Sokka and Suki, who were starting the ship for departure, and Aang sat on the floor, thinking about was was to come.

Even if he was the Avatar, he could not control the events ahead of time, the future. He had to keep living each day as if it were the last, especially after how many times he almost died (and actually died).

In fact, Aang did not know how long he was going to live for at all, especially since he was already 112 chronological years. He was not going to be the Avatar for eternity since there would come a day were his body would not take it anymore and the spirit of the Avatar would be passed to another person. Aang’s days were already being counted, and it was clear that however long he was going to be in this world, he had to spend it well.

In the little time Aang had of life, he realized that he had to fulfill his duties as the Avatar. He had to maintain the balance until his body gave in. Being the Avatar was a huge part of his identity, a part he basically could not remove, but it was not all of it. Aang had learned from Roku that each Avatar has their own identity and personality, even if they shared the same spirit. He was more than the most powerful bender in the world.

Aang was a person, just like everyone in this world, and Aang had to live out his duties as well… Aang, himself. He had already made many friends, whom he was grateful for. These included Sokka, Toph, Zuko, Sukki, Iroh… and many others.

Aang also had a very special friend, but it was the person he basically could give up anything for.

It was Katara.

From the moment Aang saw Katara in the South Pole taking him out of the iceberg, he began loving her, but not only romantically. Aang loved Katara in all the ways possible, even if he did not yet comprehend it. She was the one who found him, saved his life countless times, comforted him, talked him into his sense, and so much more.

Apart from the world, which he had to protect, Katara was everything to him.

With a pain in his chest, Aang remembered the last conversation they had before the battle on Ember Island. He had gotten in a fight with her, and in the simplest terms, told her that she was not helping him at all. The young airbender felt guilt build inside of him, and he knew he had to immediately talk to her and apologize, if she was still alive. If Katara was not alive, the guilt from their fight would probably kill him.

“How long will it be until we get to the Fire Nation?” Aang asked anxiously.

“Probably many hours,” Sokka responded. “But thanks to the airship, it won’t take weeks to get there. We will probably get there by the time the sun is up in the sky.

The Avatar nodded, and the ship began flying in the air. After a few minutes of being up in the sky, Aang’s body became heavy, and he immediately fell into a deep sleep.

When Aang awokened, he found himself in a similar landscape to the one in the Eastern Air Temple. It was nighttime, and there were thousands of skies in the sky. The moon was full, casting a silvery glow over the serene surroundings. A gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine, adding to the dreamlike quality of the scene.

Aang gazed up, mesmerized by the celestial display above. Comets streaked across the sky, their tails leaving trails of shimmering light, as if inviting him to make a wish. The beauty of it all was almost overwhelming, and he felt a profound sense of peace.

“Aang!” a familiar voice exclaimed behind him, except that it sounded older. Approaching him was a beautiful, tall woman dressed in elegant Water Tribe attire. Her long, flowing hair framed her face, and her stunning sapphire eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and wisdom.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said with a warm smile, kneeling down to his level. Her voice carried a soothing, melodic quality that resonated deeply within him.

“Wait… who are you?” Aang asked, puzzled. The image then clicked in his mind, and he immediately knew who this woman from the Water Tribe was.

You’re… Katara!” Aang exclaimed, his heart pounding in his chest. “But you’re all grown up. What kind of vision is this?”

Katara chuckled softly, her laughter like the gentle tinkling of wind chimes. “This is simply a glimpse of the future, Aang; a future where we’ve both grown and faced many challenges together.”

Aang reached out tentatively, his hand trembling slightly as he touched her face. She felt real, solid, and her skin was warm under his fingers. “I don’t understand. How is this possible?”

Katara took his hand in hers, holding it gently. “Sometimes, the Spirit World reveals things to us that we need to see for ourselves, to give us hope and guidance. This is one of those moments.”

Aang looked into her eyes, feeling a deep connection that transcended time and space. “You look so… strong… and beautiful. I can’t believe this is real.”

Katara’s eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s as real as you need it to be, Aang. The future is not set in stone, and it never is, but this vision shows the potential of what can be if you and I stay true to our path.”

Aang felt waves of emotion fill his body: a mixture of hope, love, and determination. “I’ve always known we’re meant to be together, but seeing this… it makes me believe it even more.”

Katara placed reassuring hands on Aang’s shoulders. “Aang, We have a long journey ahead of us, with many trials and triumphs, but remember, no matter what happens, you will not face them along; we’ll face it together.”

Aang closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her presence and the strength of their bond. “Thank you, Katara. This vision means more to me than you can imagine.”

As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, the dream began to fade. The landscape blurred, and the stars dimmed, but the feeling of love and reassurance lingered in Aang’s heart.

When Aang woke up from his sleep, the emotions he felt in his dream were still within him, and the first thing that came to his wind as it awakened was his love: Katara. He HAD to talk to her, specially after seeing her in his vision. Now that the war was over, he knew that he had ot be with her, any way or another. Katara reciprocated her feelings for Aang, but had made it clear some time before that they could not be together yet because of the circumstances happening in the moment, but now that the war was all over, there was a big possibility that something between them could happen, something special… unless Katara changed her mind, and in that case, his vision meant absolutely nothing and his mind was just playingtricks on him.

“Oh! You’re awake now!” Sokka went to Aang and helped him get up from the ground. “May I present you, Avatar, the Fire Nation!” Sokka dramatically pointed at the landscape ahead of them. The Fire Nation Capital looked the same, except that it had suffered lots of damage from the war.

“We’ll be landing in the capital in a few minutes, so just make sure you’re fully awake by the time we get there.” Aang simply nodded, and went back to his trail of thought until they landed.

When they got out of the ship, Aang didn’t hesitate in running ahead of the others towards the Royal Palace, which could be seen from afar. He ran and ran through the Earth Kingdom nad Fire Nation troops and through the crowds of people until he got to the palace gates. There were many Fire Nation guards standing at the main gates, making sure no one got in or out of the palace. Aang hurried to the door, but was stopped by the guards.

“Stop there!” one of them snapped. “No one is aloud in or out of the palace!”

“I have to get in there! It’s really urgent!” Aang pleaded. “I’m looking for Prince Zuko! It’s really important!”

“No one is allowed in!” responded the guards. Aang didn’t know what to do, and he tried frantically to think of a solution. In a few moments, a solution occurred to him, even if he hated it.

“Tell Prince Zuko that the AVATAR is here!” Aang demanded, with a bit too much aggression. The guards let him in with hesitation, and Aang ran through the gates. He asked around the guards for Prince Zuko since he would know where Katara was. One of them led them to a room with wounded people. Zuko was standing there in the room, making sure every person in there was treated and cured.

“Aang?!” Zuko turned around and saw Aang, shock coming over him. He could not believe the Avatar had done the job: defeat his father.

“Zuko, where is Katara?” Aang asked urgently, his voice laced with anxiety. He scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

Zuko approached Aang, his face a mix of relief and concern. “She’s safe, Aang. She’s with the other healers, tending to the wounded. But… you did it? You defeated my father?”

Aang nodded, still trying to catch his breath. “Yes, but it wasn’t easy. I need to see Katara. I need to make sure she’s alright.”

Zuko placed a hand on Aang’s shoulder, his expression softening. “She’s fine, Aang. She’s been working non-stop to help everyone here. She’s incredible.”

Aang’s tension began to ease, but a new worry crept into his mind. “Zuko, what happens now? The Fire Lord is defeated, but the Fire Nation still needs a leader. The world needs to heal.”

Zuko took a deep breath, the weight of responsibility clear on his face. “I know. I’ve been preparing for this moment, but it’s still overwhelming. I want to do what’s right, to bring peace and balance, but I can’t do it alone.”

Aang looked at Zuko, seeing the determination and uncertainty in his eyes. “You won’t be alone. We’ll rebuild together. We’ll make things right, but you have to promise me something.”

“What is it?” Zuko asked, his voice steady but curious.

“Promise me you’ll lead with kindness and fairness, that you’ll honor the memory of those who suffered under your father’s rule,” Aang said, his tone earnest.

Zuko nodded solemnly. “I promise, Aang. I’ve seen the damage my father has caused. I want to be a different kind of Fire Lord, one who brings hope instead of fear.”

Aang smiled, feeling a renewed sense of hope. “I believe in you, Zuko. And I’ll be here to help every step of the way.”

Just then, Katara appeared in the doorway, not believing the sight in front of her. It was Aang, and he was alright. Her heart rapidly pounded in her ears as she saw the airbender in front of her beside the future Fire Lord. She thought she had lost Aang almost permanently, for she had not seen him since he disappeared mysteriously from Ember Island, but now, he was here, standing in front of her.

Aang turned around and saw a petrified Katara standing just a few paces away from him. Her cerulean blue eyes were open wide, as if she had seen a ghost.

“Aang,” she breathed, not sure what to say next. Aang began to approach her slowly, as if he were approaching a tiny bird who was ready to flee any moment, but Katara had other plans, and she almost tackled Aang to the ground with the tight and strong embrace she gave him.

Katara basically cried into Aang’s shoulders once she held him, afraid he could fade away any minute. Aang however, was perfectly fine for the most part. He came in one piece, and did not have severe damage on his body. Aang was also relieved to finally see her, hold her in his arms.

“You did it!” she loudly exclaimed with joy. “You saved the world, and you’re safe!” She hugged him again, as tightly as the first hug. Aang retuned the hug back, but he could not find the right words for what he was going to say after he let her go of his embrace. “I… I did,” Aang replied, not sure how to continue. “I’m okay, Katara. And so are you.”

“I am so proud of you,” Katara whispered, getting closer to him, and holding his shoulders.

Aang smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you. You gave me the strength to keep going.”

Katara’s expression softened even more. “We believed in you, Aang. We always knew you could do it. But now… now you need to rest. You’ve been through so much.”

Aang nodded, the weight of his journey finally settling in. “I know. But there’s still so much to do. We have to rebuild, to heal the world.”

Katara gently cupped his face in her hands, her touch soothing. “And we will, but you don’t have to carry the burden alone anymore. We’re all here to help. You’ve done enough for now.”

Aang closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of her touch. “Thank you, Katara. For everything.”

Katara leaned in and rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling. “We’re in this together, Aang. Always.”

Aang let go of her quickly, remembering what he had to do. “Also… I need to talk to you really quickly… about something.”

Katara’s brow furrowed with concern. “What is it, Aang? Is everything okay?”

Aang took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I wanted to apologize for all the things I told you back on Ember Island. I know you were trying to help, and I feel so guilty for screaming at you and-”

“Aang!” Katara laughed. “It’s all fine now! You don’t have to apologize. I know you were just stressed and didn’t know what to do-”

“I also need to talk to you about… the future,” Aang interrupted. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what comes next, now that the war is over.”

Katara nodded, her expression softening. “I’ve been thinking about that too. There’s so much to rebuild, so many people to help.”

Aang looked into her ocean blue eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Exactly, and I know it won’t be easy, but I can’t do it alone. I need you, Katara. Not just as a friend or a healer or a waterbending teacher, but… as someone who’s always by my side.”

Katara’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing. “Aang, I… I’ve always been by your side, and I always will be. You’re not alone.”

Aang smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “I know, and I’m grateful for that, but there’s more. I… I love you, Katara. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I can’t imagine facing the future without you.”

Katara’s breath caught in her throat. She looked at Aang, her eyes searching his for sincerity. “Aang, I… I love you too. I’ve always cared about you, more than I can put into words.”

Aang’s heart soared, relief washing over him. “You do?”

Katara nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “Yes, Aang. I do. I’ve been so worried about you, about us, but now, standing here with you, I know we can face anything together.”

Aang took her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. “Then let’s face it together. Let’s rebuild this world and make it a place where everyone can live in peace.”

Katara squeezed his hands, her smile growing. “Together.”

They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading away as they shared this intimate connection. Then, Katara took a step back, her practical side kicking in.

“But first, we need to find the others and make sure everyone is safe. We have a lot of work to do,” she said, leading Aang back to the room where Zuko was.

Aang nodded, coming back to reality. “Right. Let’s go.”

As they walked hand in hand through the corridors, they felt a renewed sense of purpose and strength. Together, they would rebuild their world, one step at a time.

[fallen-in-dreams]

Moving On

Also on AO3. Pairing: Sasuke/Hinata. Summary: Everyone was lying to her. Killing her with kindness. Shielding her from the pain they all know is coming. But now it was time for some hard-hitting truths. And from the most unlikely source. SasuHina.Post-war. Prompt: Day 25: The Season of Grief. Rated: T. Words: 7,566. Status: Complete.

Author note: Angst and Hinata POV as she slowly comes to the realisation that she can’t have the life she’d been planning for. The Season of Grief = The Five Stages of Grief. The grief of losing the love she used to have.

Warnings/tags: One-sided SasuSaku. One-sided NaruHina. Naruto/OC. Angst with denial, pining, and romantic existential crisis. But with a happy ending.

Thank-you so much @sasuhinamonth​ for hosting this. I'm later than I’d planned, sorry. Hope that’s okay. :)

“There comes a time when you have to stop crossing oceans for people who wouldn't even jump puddles for you.” – Unknown

.

Denial.

.

Life was a series of choices.

For example, Hinata Hyuuga could choose to accept the arranged marriage her father had planned for her, or she could refuse to sign on the dotted line and hold out for love. She chose the latter. She was sure that fourth cousin her father had in mind for her was a nice man, but she wasn’t interested. And after surviving the war and learning to defend herself better emotionally, the last thing she wanted was to regress into the dutiful daughter who never complained. She was finally in control of her own life.

And she was still waiting on Naruto-kun.

Hinata was tired of the sad looks her clansmen would give her when she rebuffed their advances. Centuries of marrying their third or fourth cousins had instilled it too deeply in them that they couldn’t live any other way. Naruto had taught her she could do better, and she was determined to do so.

All of her choices to move forward were the reason Hanabi had been named Clan Heiress. She was already being prepped for it before the war, but their father’s insistence on an arranged marriage was the final straw. Hinata had been officially removed from the running. She would’ve been concerned about being branded with the Branch’s Curse Seal if Naruto hadn’t been so vocal in his disagreement about the practice. The Leaf hero’s words resonated with the village, and Lord Hokage started negotiations to prevent further sealings. Kakashi had also made motions to have those who currently bore the juinjutsu to be released from it. It would take a few more years to fully circumvent it, as the seal hadn’t been designed to be removed, but it was a step forward for the clan. A hope for a better future.

Everything Neji had wanted.

Hinata couldn’t be happier. She only wished to share in that future with Naruto. He was her hero. And the love of her life. She just needed to be more patient with him. But it was frustrating some days. She tried to talk to him and only succeeded when they were alone. Around friends and in crowds, he was so distracted by everyone. One-on-one he became fidgety, but she just chalked that up to him not being very good with girls. He’d stopped asking Sakura out, and the two were nothing more than friends, and he hadn’t asked anyone out. He was just shy.

Hinata already had a plan in place to ask him out herself. She just needed to work up for her own confidence to do so. Someone had to get this relationship going. In the meantime, she daydreamed about how it was going to go. But her days were lonely right now. Waiting. Patiently. And never quite making that important step forward. She had her family and friends and teammates but wanted more.

Her heart could only take so much.

“I just need to be brave.”

Hinata wasn’t brave, emotionally. In dire moments and with important things and people on the line, she knew how to be brave. Adrenaline and determination got her a long way. But in the aftermath, she found herself succumbing to the fear of rejection and crippling shyness.

“Yes, you do.”

She started, realising she’d said that out loud, in front of her sister. She’d been so lost in her thoughts and forgotten where she was for a moment. Hanabi was sitting across from her, the low serving table between them, ignoring the servants as they poured the tea for her before turning to her older sister. Hinata’s sister was clutching a half-finished kimono to her lap and lazily sewing at the hem of it. For such a skilled fighter, her movements were surprisingly delicate.

This was a weekly thing for them. Every Sunday at lunch, when their father was too busy with clan duties to interrupt or overhear them, they would talk to each other about anything or anyone, and when the Hyuuga servants left, even gossip sometimes. Hanabi had been carrying that kimono around all week, taking her time with building on it. Hinata knew her sister well enough to know it was a project with no defined outcome. She was just adding to it at her own leisure. Who knew what it would look like when she was finally done?

Hinata delicately sipped at her tea as Hanabi continued to ignore her own; her eyes narrowing as she focused intensely on the needle and thread. Her sister had developed a habit of people watching, since the war ended. And her insight was far sharper than anyone that Hinata knew. It made her feel insignificant.

“Spoken to Naruto lately?”

Hinata nodded. It was a silent lie. But she could’ve easily ran into him a few days ago if she wanted to so she didn’t see the point in saying otherwise. He was very busy with missions and handling Sasuke. The Uchiha’s release from jail had come as no surprise, given who was Hokage now. Kakashi had always had unwavering faith that he’d return. Just as Naruto did. Sakura… Hinata had seen her waver. But she was more confident now than ever about their team returning as family. Hinata only hoped that when she started dating Naruto herself, that it didn’t upset their dynamic.

“You’re grieving.”

Hinata raised an eyebrow at that. “What am I grieving?”

Her sister smiled. “Love.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Naruto-kun isn’t the smartest person,” Hanabi said. “And I think you know that.”

“He doesn’t have to be.”

Her sister smiled. Again. A knowing smile that Hinata didn’t appreciate. But she said nothing of it and returned to watching Hanabi’s expert hands as she weaved the thread in and out of the kimono. This was a hobby for the younger sister. They’d both learned how to sew traditional garments as well as fix them, when they were still barely able to fight. It was second nature to them both. But Hanabi found a kind of peace to the process that Hinata never could.

“Father wishes you to marry soon.”

“And you?”

Hanabi shook her head. “A few more years, perhaps. When I’m ready to begin training to take over the clan.”

She was still too young to learn everything. Given that Hiashi was nowhere near retiring, it didn’t serve any purpose to put her through those rigorous trials just yet. But Hinata was surprised their father wasn’t thinking about grandchildren yet. At least not from his heiress.

Hanabi put the kimono down and finally sipped at her tea. “How do you feel about Naruto-kun?”

“I love him?”

It was immediate and instinctive, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. Hanabi didn’t react to the questioning tone of her voice. She just gave her older sister a look that told her she was questioning her for more than just curiosity.

“Are you sure, Oneesan?”

She had convinced herself so thoroughly that it was going to happen. Hinata brushed at the hem of the sleeve of her Yukata. Was she? Did she?

Yes.

She still loved Naruto-kun. Of course, she did. She’d gone through too much to just suddenly stop caring about him. He was in her heart. Just like Neji still was.

Was.

“I asked him out.”

“What did he say?”

“He said ‘let’s go to Ichiraku’.” He also said, “that bum Sasuke can pay for mine this time,” but she didn’t see how that was relevant. It was a date. And only two people could go on a date at the same time.

Right?

“Will the rest of Team Kakashi be there?”

Hinata opened her mouth to answer then shut it, her eye twitching in annoyance. She calmed herself and shook her head. “Of course not.”

She didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Hinata glanced at the clock on the wall. They normally took tea, and then lunch, all awhile talking of friends and goals. It was funny to her that they’d never done this until recently. What exactly was the point before now?

Hanabi placed her tea down, almost finished. “We should have the food brought in, before it gets cold.”

Hinata nodded mechanically and waited for the servants to finish setting the table before disappearing. They could not be overheard in this room by anyone who wasn’t already in it. The jutsu that allowed this privacy had been in place since long before either of them were born.

Hanabi started talking about a jutsu that their father wanted to teach them and Hinata calmly dug into her Udon noodles. Silence eventually fell until they were both done. After the servants retrieved the plates, Hanabi went right back to pressing and hemming the edges of the kimono in her hand.

“Sasuke-kun walked by the compound again this morning.”

“Hm?” Hinata sat up straighter at that.

“He’s been doing that a lot lately,” Hanabi mused. “But not last week when you were staying over Sakura’s.”

For Ino’s surprise party sleepover. Which was Sakura’s idea.

Hinata hadn’t slept in her own bed for two nights. It was a first for her, for a long time.

“Sasuke-kun looks in here too. Like he’s searching for something. It’s a barely noticeable glance, but I’ve been staking out the gates.”

“Do you like him?” Hinata was surprised at her sister as well as the strange clenching of her gut.

Hanabi scoffed. “No. But ever since I first saw him watching you training with your team after he got out of prison, I’ve been noticing he does that with you a lot.”

Hinata scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s probably just plotting to kill you.” Hanabi ignored her sister’s worried expression. “Or wondering why you always look so sad these days.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

Hanabi set the unfinished kimono down and stared her sister straight in the eyes. “Do you love him?”

“Who?” Hinata hated how her voice rose a few octaves.

“Naruto-kun.”

“Yes,” she said. “I love him.”

She would wait for Naruto. For him to come to terms with what had happened and realise they were meant to be together. Hinata would be the quiet voice he can’t block out because he loves her so much. No matter that he had already had numerous occasions to prove it to her. Even someone as clueless as him couldn’t not know how she felt. She just needed to give him a push in the right direction.

That’s what I have to do.

And she went right on back to pretending she didn’t see the pitying look on her sister’s face.

  .:.

  Anger.

.

The restaurant was noisy by the time Hinata arrived, dressed up and twisting her fingers nervously. She looked up into the colourful lights that decorated the restaurant of choice. Night-time made this place come alive in a way that surprised patrons that saw it for the first time. This was also one of the newer restaurants that opened after the war. So many things had changed, and so fast and it felt like Konoha was quickly becoming a very different village. Kakashi had authorised integral changes and Hinata could see the village one day becoming as large as a city. She was kind of nervous about that. Their population was steadily growing too, even only a year out.

She sighed and stepped forward in the waiting line. Naruto had said he’d come about seven and it was only a few minutes before. Hinata had spent the last hour already dressed for this date. Her stomach had twisted, making her throw up twice, before that. The line moved again, and she found herself at the head of it faster than her nerves could handle.

It’s finally happening.

“May I help you?”

Hinata cleared her throat. “Party for two. Under the name Hinata Hyuuga.”

The server looked through her list and her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, we were told that was a party of four.”

“A-are you sure?”

The woman turned the clipboard to show her. When Hinata had asked Naruto to make the arrangement, because she’d been called away by her father, she’d assumed he had made it just for the two of them. It was supposed to be a date… right? When the venue was changed from Ichiraku to The Sannin Sushi House she assumed this was finally going to be more intimate.

Hinata swallowed heavily. “I-I, uh. He must’ve made a mistake.”

The server nodded her head in understanding. “Yes, but unfortunately, we can’t change your table. There aren’t any spare ones tonight.”

The sound of the other patrons hit her then, reminding her of how loud and full the restaurant was. She just nodded and Hinata went along with it, hiding her disappointment. They would just have to do with a larger table between them. A voice in the back of her head scoffed at her.

Who else is coming tonight?

Maybe Naruto had misheard her? She didn’t understand how he could have but it had to have been a mistake. She shook her head, chastising herself for worrying over something so trivial. She was stronger than this.

“Thank-you,” she bowed to the server. “Where is the table?”

Hinata followed the woman and settled into the chair that gave her the best view of the restaurant entrance. She was already on edge, with the change in her plans, and worried that something else might sneak up behind her if she wasn’t careful. All the courage she’d learned from Naruto-kun had boiled off and she needed to get a hold of herself.

“Dining alone, again?”

Hinata gave a start at the familiar voice. “Sasuke-kun,” she said softly.

Why is he here?

Did this mean Naruto had invited him too? No, that didn’t make any sense.

The Uchiha slid into the chair across from her. This was one of the non-self-serve restaurants that had popped up in Konoha in the last twelve months and as a result the space between them, under the table, was minimal. His foot accidentally brushed against hers and she started again.

“A-are you here–”

“Hm. Naruto said he’d pay this time if I turned up early.”

They got dinner together a lot, then? Hinata struggled not to lose the soft smile she’d plastered to her face. It was only natural that Naruto would make time for his former teammate who was also his best friend. This didn’t mean he was avoiding her.

Of course not. Why would I even think such a thing?

“W-where is Sakura-san?”

Sasuke picked up the menu in front of him and lazily perused it, not answering her question. He didn’t look over at her when she repeated the question and began tapping the table with the menu absentmindedly. She wondered what was going through his head. After a few minutes, she’d had enough.

“Why are you here?”

Now, he looked up at her. “There are no more free tables.”

Is he making fun of me?

She assumed he was a joking. He had to be. This was supposed to be just her and Naruto. Sasuke was ruining everything. She didn’t want to burst that out at him, but it did really feel like he was getting in the way deliberately. Hanabi’s words to her the other day about Sasuke following her around popped into her head, but that was ridiculous. Everyone knew he was dating Sakura, just like Hinata hoped to begin dating Naruto. Why else would Sakura be so adamant something was going to happen between them?

“He’s just shy, Hinata,” the pinkette had told her yesterday. “And we’re going out tomorrow night anyway.”

Tomorrow night is tonight, she reminded herself. So where is Sakura?

A waitress sidled up to their table, giving Sasuke a once over with her eyes before asking them for their orders.

“Pork Katsu Curry,” Sasuke said. “With a side of Kani Salad and Green Tea.”

“Certainly, handsome.” The waitress turned to Hinata. “And you, sweetie?”

Hinata felt very uncomfortable under the stare they were both giving her. It felt like she was on a date with Sasuke, not Naruto. She didn’t know how to handle this. It felt like the world had just tipped on its axis. When she was this uncomfortable, Hinata usually just caved to whatever was expected of her. But she didn’t want to keep doing that with the important things in her life. However, this was too public and sensitive a venue for her to start putting her foot down without repercussions. Saying anything about her disappointment and desire to get rid of them both would only make her regret it later.

She blinked heavily. Uh, right. They were still looking at her expectantly. Though Sasuke’s eyes were occasionally drifting off to the side like he was embarrassed, but he still looked more bored than anything.

“Miso Soup,” she said finally, going with something she knew well. Hinata wasn’t hungry enough for a side, but she didn’t want them to think she was angry with them. “And M-Moyashi Salad on the side.” She cleared her throat. “And just some water, please.”

The waitress read their orders back to them then winked. “That’ll be ready in a jiffy. You two lovebirds let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Hinata’s skin flushed crimson and she lowered her gaze to the table, not daring to see Sasuke’s reaction to that.

“How long until Naruto-kun arrives, do you think?”

Sasuke glanced over at her and shrugged, then leaned forward to rest his chin on his hands, now staring at her. It was making her uncomfortable, so she looked back down again. They remained that way, in silence, for a while. Hinata entertained herself by counting the tassels on the edge of the tablecloth. Over and over again.

“You…”

Hinata looked up quickly as Sasuke trailed off, the look on his face suddenly uncertain. Before she could ask him what he was going to say, the waitress returned with their orders. She felt herself turning beet red, realising they’d been sitting like this for at least ten minutes. The waitress was eyeing them curiously, like one would a couple of bugs under a microscope.

“Thank-you,” they both said at the same time.

Hinata sighed deeply as the waitress bowed to them. She was eerily silent this time and moved away quickly.

“I think we unnerve her,” she said softly.

Sasuke glanced at the woman’s retreating back before digging into his food. For him, it was digging in. Hinata had been in many group outings with Team Kakashi since the war ended and Sasuke was allowed free reign of the village. He ate like a nobleman; picky and proper. Not at all like Naruto.

She sighed again and picked up the bowl with her Miso Soup. If he wasn’t going to turn up, she might as well enjoy the night air and good food. They ate in silence and Hinata slowly settled her nerves, finding the quiet between them a comfortable surprise. The loud noises in the restaurant didn’t bother her anymore and she proceeded to escape into her own little world, just thinking about things.

Her father had been asking her about her future lately, instead of telling her what it would entail. She was finally having conversations with him in which taking part meant that she could approach the subject matter honestly. He’d even stopped asking her about her love life. (His attempt at a marriage of convenience notwithstanding.) Hinata put her bowl down and glanced over at Sasuke. It seemed nobody had a handle on their love life lately.

“Are you…” She hesitated when Sasuke put down his spoon and she suddenly had his full attention. “Um. I thought you were coming here with Sakura-san on a date.” He shook his head. “She, uh, said so yesterday.”

Was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was gone a moment later.

“Sakura…” he cocked his head to the side. “She has different ideas on what an invitation out with friends means.”

Hinata understood what he meant but frowned softly. Everyone knew that Sakura was obsessed with Sasuke and saw any attention from him as evidence of their undying love. A simple invitation with Team Kakashi could set her off on a soliloquy about star-crossed love. But that didn’t explain why she wasn’t here. Her absence made even less sense than Naruto’s.

Sasuke sighed, obviously realising she wanted to know more. He sat back in his chair heavily.

“I… told her we were meeting at Ichiraku’s.”

“You…”

He told Sakura the wrong place on purpose. He had no intention of being honest with her. Was it a trick? Or just him being a douche? Hinata narrowed her eyes at Sasuke. A familiar feeling of annoyance rose up inside her and if she’d been paying attention to why this bothered her so much, she’d have realised Sasuke was giving Sakura the same kind of brush off that Naruto had done to Hinata.

But she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him either. She ground her teeth. “Take it from me, Sasuke-kun, you wouldn’t like someone you care about doing that to you.”

“Don’t call me Sasuke-kun.”

He hated honorifics.

“You have no idea.” He said it like he’d come to some kind of existential realisation.

“About what?”

“You’re quiet and shy and sweet to everyone. Always putting yourself down and picking up everyone else.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Sasuke continued, now leaning forward and pointing at her like he was her sensei, and she was a naughty genin who refused to listen.

“Despite having such a powerful dojutsu, you don’t even see what’s happening right in front of you. Naruto has obviously left you in the dirt, but you keep holding out hope he’ll come around.” She fidgeted as he continued to reprimand her. “Face it: he lied to you.”

“He was just trying to spare my feelings.” Her voice sounded hollow, even to her.

Sasuke scoffed. “By dragging the decision out.”

“What are you doing to S-Sakura-san?”

“That’s different,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve told her I’m not interested but she won’t take the hint.”

“Naruto-kun’s–”

“He’s a dobe. And he isn’t going to date you, no matter what you think.”

“How can you call him your friend and speak of him like this? I thought you cared–”

“I never said I cared about him.”

“I suppose you expect me to believe that?”

“I’m not the only one running away from the truth.”

“No, you’re perfect,” she said, spitting out the last word.

He smiled at that. Genuinely. Her frustration seemed to amuse him.

“Why are you saying these things to me?” She asked, clenching her fists and glaring openly at him.

“Because no-one else will,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Least of all the one person who should.”

But why did he have to be so rude about it?

He levelled her with the most intense non-glare stare she’d ever seen from him. “Kindness doesn’t seem to work on you.”

Damn. She’d asked that question out loud. Hinata couldn’t get a handle on the emotions bubbling up inside her. It was too painful. She’s waited for years. Held herself up high and given every inch of herself. But Sasuke knew Naruto better than she did. He said the blond had no intention of doing anything with her. He said that he was just a dobe who wasn’t telling her what she needed to hear. She was so furious now that Hinata couldn’t hear anything other than her own blood rushing in her ears.

How dare he?

“You are a low life.” Hinata could hardly believe the words were out of her mouth as she stood up, her body shaking with anger. Sasuke just stared back at her, not surprised or offended one bit. “Sakura-san could do so much better than you.”

“Tell her that.”

She desperately wanted to throw her untouched water at him. But she reigned in that emotion, not wanting to cause a scene that could get back to her father. She’d already embarrassed herself enough. Instead, Hinata huffed, rifled in her purse and threw down just enough money to only pay for her own food. Naruto had apparently promised to pay for Sasuke, and he wasn’t here to do so. But that didn’t mean that she had to do it in his stead. Feeling quite unlike herself, she scowled at him before storming off.

Hinata didn’t see the genuine curiosity on his face at her actions. The small smile of interest she’d sparked. She could only see red. It would be hours before she could calm down enough to realise, he’d been right.

  .:.

  Bargaining.

.

If only she’d been stronger. And more forceful, like Sakura, then none of this would’ve happened. Her life had spiralled out of control. Before that dinner with Sasuke, Hinata could just go along and pretend that one day Naruto would ask her out for real, or at least take her asking seriously. He wasn’t in a relationship of his own, though – to her chagrin – his fangirls were still as stubborn as ever. And that lack of a relationship had given her hope.

Now she had all kinds of thoughts about what was really going on. And the truth was, that Sasuke was right. Naruto-kun wasn’t interested in her like that. It was still hard to grasp since she’d held onto it for so long and it didn’t feel real. They’d shared a moment during the war, holding hands and promising to be there for each other. She’d taken it as a declaration of love while he’d been talking about friendship. Granted, the kid of friendship you kill and die for, but friendship all the same.

I’m as bad as Sakura.

Or maybe only almost as bad as Sakura, since the pinkette was still talking Sasuke up to everyone. He’d made a scene the day after that dinner date (and she could admit that, although accidental, it had been a date), which should’ve put Sakura in her place. Hinata hadn’t seen either of them since then, so she didn’t know if it worked. But she had bigger fish to fry.

Hinata needed to regain control of this chaos she’d created. Maybe she was still in denial though, and it would explain why she’d deliberately made her way to Ichiraku’s, knowing he’d be there. He always was at lunchtime. Everyone knew that Naruto got up at nine o’clock, had breakfast (sometimes in his apartment and sometimes at Ichiraku’s), headed over to the training grounds where he’d work out (and sometimes spar, if any of his former teammates were available), then practically skip to Ichiraku’s for lunch. He’d spend anywhere from half an hour to an hour there, depending on how hungry he was and how many fangirls slowed him down. Then Naruto would promptly return to the training grounds for a few hours before tracking down his former teammates to see who wasn’t busy and then bug them until they either kicked him out or he got bored. If the sun hadn’t set yet he’d wander through the village, waving at people, being waved at, and stopping to talk to other Konoha Eleven members.

Sometimes he spent the late afternoon with Konohamaru and his friends. Then he’d go back to the training grounds and use the dark to hone his sensory skills. Naruto would go at it until he dropped, then drag his arse back home, eat, bathe, and finally sleep until morning.

His schedule was a little different sometimes, depending on his mood and available friends (Kakashi didn’t send him on many missions because he was too overpowered for most of them) but the lunchtime and when he started night-time training were like clockwork.

When he would find time to do the things he’d always gone on about, she didn’t know. But Hinata knew his current schedule because she was a stalker. It was obvious to her now. Nobody else followed him around like this. She wondered if he’d ever taken the time to notice. She needed to get a hold of this before she wasted her life away.

But Hinata couldn’t stop wondering what could’ve been if she’d approached Naruto right after the war instead of waiting for him to get into a routine of ignoring her. Maybe she’d have shown him just how right they were for each other. And he’d finally listen.

This was why she was walking toward the Ichiraku Ramen stand. It was why she stopped next to a stall of flowers and pretended to be interested in them as she watched the ramen stand in her peripherals. And why she didn’t move away the moment she realised he was on a date. Her stomach clenched, but it was a milder pain than she expected. Even so, it still threatened to bring a fresh bout of tears to her eyes to watch him with this girl.

Naruto was the only member of Team Kakashi at the stall. He stood outside, laughing and joking with someone that Hinata didn’t recognise. The girl was really pretty. With short auburn hair and a petite figure that her clothes highlighted, and her makeup complimented. What made Hinata realise it was a date was not only how the girl was dressed to the nines (Naruto, too, for him anyway), but also how he reciprocated when she ran her hand along his arm. He was blushing and trying to pull of the cool guy act. If this was just another fangirl, he wouldn’t put that much work into it, surely.

They talked and laughed a few minutes more before clasping hands and ducking under the flap to take their respective stools in Ichiraku.

Definitely a date.

Hinata let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and turned away from the flowers. The stall server was disappointed but quickly turned to another customer.

Story of my life.

A sudden flare of chakra had her spinning around and she found herself suddenly face to face with Sasuke Uchiha. Had he seen her stalking his friend? There was nothing but his usual aloof stare on his face as he silently appraised her. But she knew. He knew. And the shame of it made her body shake with both anger and humiliation. So, she did the only thing her body was willing to do in that moment.

Hinata ran away.

She took to the rooftops and pushed herself to her limit, trying to get away from Naruto. From Sasuke. Her tears dried on her face by the time she found herself at Team Eight’s old training ground. She wiped at them then found her favourite oak tree and sat down. Even under the shade, the sun was warm and comforting on her skin. She basked in it, closing her eyes.

This time, Hinata felt him arrive. But she didn’t feel childish enough to tell him to go away. She opened her bleary eyes and looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He looked radiant, with the curve of the blinding light almost silhouetting him. Sasuke moved forward to better block the rays and she lowered her arm.

“Why are you h-here?”

He moved out of the way of the sun and Hinata shaded her eyes quickly. Sasuke always did have a thing for being dramatic. She turned to look at him as he sat down on the grass next to her. He didn’t answer at first, staring up into the sun like it didn’t bother him at all. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. Finally, he sighed.

“I told you so.”

The floodgates opened. She broke down. Hinata couldn’t stop it. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged herself, her face in her knees as she cried. She wasn’t upset at him. Only herself. Hinata didn’t react when Sasuke shifted his bum to press his side against her and gave her a one-armed hug. Her head lolled to rest on his shoulder as he pulled her closer to himself, but she didn’t relent on the tears. His hand was large and warm against her, making Hinata cry even more.

Eventually, she stopped shaking and sniffled heavily.

She hated that he could get over their argument so easily and yet she was still plagued with doubts about how she’d acted. How rude he’d been. Hinata gave herself a few silent moments to compose herself before sliding out of his grip and wiping her face. Hinata rose shakily to her feet and gave him a slight bow.

“Thank-you Uchiha-san. I can see myself home now. Good day.”

He watched silently as she walked away solemnly.

  .:.

  Depression.

.

She avoided every member of Team Kakashi for weeks. Hinata couldn’t avoid Kakashi forever however, as the Hokage called her in for a pep talk – his version, rather, which was to ask her if she wanted a mission outside of Konoha. “To get away for a while. You could treat it like a vacation.”

Did everyone know about her problems? Kakashi probably just knew because of the other members of his former team, but it felt like a spotlight was suddenly shining on her and the whole world had gathered to watch her humiliation. She understood his concern. Hinata would think less of him if he hadn’t been. But she couldn’t deal with being this exposed right now.

“No thank-you, Hokage-sama,” she’d said, bowing lower than usual. “I am expected to join father in a mission soon and it would be disrespectful of me to leave Konoha right now.”

He just stared back at her for a moment but eventually nodded his head slowly.

Naruto’s voice interrupted them, suddenly bouncing off the walls as if he was standing right there and making Hinata jumped. But the loud blond was actually just booming down the hall outside.

“Hang on,” Kakashi said, then stood and disappeared out of the room.

Hinata could hear them talking, and Naruto’s whining voice and something about Ichiraku. Naruto yelled out, “woo-hoo!”.

Lord Hokage is trying to get rid of him for me.

But it sounded like he was too excited to get the hint.

Hinata couldn’t stand the pity. The deep, painful feeling that churned in her gut and worked its way up through her body like acid reflux. Hinata stumbled slightly from the physical shock of it. Kakashi meant well and she understood this, but it just made her feel so small.

She couldn’t let people cover for her anymore. Hinata realised that was what people had been doing. Trying to help her by keeping them apart. But all that had done was blind her to the truth. She loved her friends, but this was not the way to moving on. She had to be braver than this. Steeling herself, Hinata pushed her shoulders back and pushed the doors open, leaving the Hokage's office. Kakashi looked surprised to see her come out. His former student went silent upon seeing her, then started fidgeting.

“Hinata…” Naruto trailed off, rubbing the back of his head.

But Hinata ignored him, her chin high and face resolutely forward. She would not give herself the opening to fall back into the comfort of lies. She would not regress. She was stronger than this, damnit! Nobody said anything else as she left the Hokage Tower. When she was out of sight, Hinata finally breathed, shaking her arms to release the tension. Fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I need to go home,” she said to herself, shivering. A storm was on its way, and she didn’t want to walk home soaking wet. She picked up the pace and quickly entered the front gates of the Hyuuga compound. The rain started pelting down the moment they closed behind her, and she sighed deeply. The guards nodded to her, and she smiled at them with all the warmth she could muster.

The grounds of the Hyuuga compound were beautiful no matter what time of year it was. Even in the moist air they came alive. Hinata walked through the covered walkways between the houses, mulling over what she’d just done.

I ignored Naruto-kun.

She’d never done that before. And she had no idea how to deal with it. A part of her wanted to break down again. The other was feeling light as air. Free. Hinata could feel the emotion building up inside her again so hurried into her room and slid the door closed, before anyone could see her. She carefully placed her sandals on the shoe rack and pulled a coat from her wardrobe. The temperature had plummeted, so she sent out her chakra to get the attention of a servant and had them bring her a hot chocolate. Once she found herself alone, she sat on the window seat of her study and stared out through the glass window at the rain below her, hugging the hot chocolate to herself as she took tentative sips.

She was just daydreaming about figures dancing in the rain when she spotted something.

A figure walking in the rain. It was definitely male, his hands in his pockets and exuding chakra from his body to keep the rain at bay. She could sense it faintly, even from this distance. It reminded her of that mission so long ago when she’d been encased in crystal and would’ve died if she hadn’t expelled chakra from her chakra points. It was an easy thing for a Hyuuga to do, but this person wasn’t a Hyuuga.

They paused and looked up toward her. She couldn’t see his face clearly because of how hard the rain was coming down but Hinata was sure now: it was Sasuke. Hanabi was right. She kept watching as he slowly turned away and continued walking. Had he seen her? Did she want him to? Did it even matter?

Yes. Yes. And emphatic yes.

She had no idea why, but yes. Hinata wanted him to care enough to take the long way home that took him past the Hyuuga gates. He was the only one telling her the things she needed to hear. Even Hanabi’s questions weren’t as blunt as they should be. Sasuke was the only one not pitying her. She found she hated pity. She appreciated him so much in that moment. More than she’d appreciated him before.

Hinata swallowed heavily, palming her hand against the glass windowpane as his figure disappeared into the haze of the heavy rain.

“Sasuke.”

  .:.

  Acceptance.

.

All she felt now was exhaustion. She had just run a marathon and dragged herself through most of it, but eventually the energy would return. Her body would recover, and her mind would follow suit. She hoped. She had put so much of her energy into the life she’d imagined with Naruto.

Hinata was surprised she hadn’t snapped much earlier. Looking back, it was obvious this wasn’t going to happen.

He hadn’t left her for someone else. Because they’d never been an item. Her heart still wrenched at the thought of what might’ve been, but she was finally taking those steps to let him go. She had no business shoving him into her heart anyway. Hanabi told her, “You’re finally accepting your grief” when she told her and gave her the warmest hug she’d ever received. It almost made her break down again.

Then Hanabi asked her about Sasuke.

“Sasuke-kun?”

He looked up as she approached, seemingly surprised that she’d sought him out this time. Normally it was him hounding her. No, that wasn’t the right word. He didn’t hound her. He wasn’t some obsessed fanboy. She smiled at that. No, Sasuke was a good friend. She swallowed heavily at the weird sensation that sentence had induce in her gut.

Friend.

The word didn’t sound right either.

So, she’d tracked him down, only to find him in the Uchiha compound graveyard. She almost turned around and left right then, to give him privacy, but figured if he could interrupt her when she was doing something important then she could do the same.

“Hinata?”

He didn’t complain as she knelt next to him and offered a prayer to the headstone he was sitting in front of. It had his parents name on it. She closed her eyes and silently wished them well in the afterlife, then opened her eyes and turned to look at him.

“I was looking for you.”

“Obviously. Why?”

She smiled. “Why not?”

He scoffed, but she didn’t lose her smile. He stared back at her before finally relenting and offering up his own light smile. They both turned back to the headstone and silence reigned for a while. It was comfortable and companionable.

“I’m leaving Konoha.”

She was surprised. “Where will you go?”

“I have a mission.”

Hinata frowned. “Lord Hokage is letting you on missions outside the village?”

He pulled a face and she almost giggled. “Kakashi has little choice.”

This told Hinata that the mission was international. She was suddenly burning with curiosity, but held back because, likely, it was top-secret. And she wasn’t in the know on top-secret missions. The inner circle of the Hokage was always a tight, handful of people and this Hokage was no different. She had no doubt that the rest of his former team knew what he was going to be doing.

“It’s just politics,” he offered, sitting back on his bum now and pulling mindlessly at the grass. “Nobody but I can do it, apparently.”

He didn’t look happy about it. Hinata was quite enjoying his openness right now.

“And it’s for an indefinite amount of time.”

She nodded but he wasn’t paying her any mind. It wasn’t personal so she didn’t take it to heart. She wondered how long he’d be gone. If Hinata was honest with herself, she was going to miss him. Before he got involved with her problems, she wouldn’t have really cared either way. But things were different now. Every day since that evening, she’d seen him in the rain, she’d sat at her window and watched him walk by. Every time he stopped and looked up at her, she swore she could feel his eyes on her. Like he knew she was watching him too.

“What’s the mission?”

Why did I just ask that?

She’d held back because it wasn’t her place. Was she really this desperate to know all about him?

Sasuke stood slowly and stared down at her. “Agree to come with me first.”

“What?” She scrambled to her feet.

“Agree to come with me and I’ll tell you all about it.”

He was serious. She frowned. “But Hokage-sama–”

“Kakashi already offered you an out. He won’t complain about you finally taking it.”

“I’m not approved for the mission.”

“You don’t have to be.” He stepped closer to her, and she felt rooted to the spot. His eyes were intense on hers and in the back of her mind she realised she was seeing a side to Sasuke that few ever did. It was intense. The way he looked at her would haunt her dreams if she said no.

She shivered. If I take too long to answer, will he beg?

His comment had a “they don’t have to know” vibe. Like they were runaways. Star-crossed lovers. She felt herself flush at the thought of that. The idea of going with him sounded exciting if not terrifying. But the idea of staying here, not knowing when she would see him again, was worse.

“You can return to Konoha anytime you want,” he added, stepping impossibly closer. “To whatever life you think you will have back here. Or you can come with me, do some good for the village without having to deal with all the shit you’ve been going through.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. His verbal acknowledgement of her problems seemed so out of character for him. But she was grateful and offered a small smile, which he quickly returned, also to her surprise.

Who is this man standing in front of me, asking me to basically run away with him?

It would be a huge undertaking and she had no idea what she was getting herself into. But suddenly, the rush of the unknown wasn’t so scary to her. It would be an adventure. One with purpose. And perhaps, she could find a little of herself out there. With him.

Hinata widened her smile and nodded. “Okay.”

He was full of surprises, because the next thing she knew, Sasuke’s hands were cupping her face. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, and he licked his lips before slowly moving in toward her. He was giving her time to pull away and change her mind. Hinata didn’t take it, closing her eyes as his mouth gently pressed against hers.

She should’ve seen this coming. This was why Sasuke had even bothered to give her the time of day. This was what all their little moments had been leading up to. This odd feeling of belonging was reciprocated.

I am so blind.

The taste of salt mixed in with the taste of him as she deepened the kiss. But for once, they were happy tears.

  .:.

[homeformyheart]

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower (rod au)

author’s note: this is a ride or die princess/fantasy AU with inspiration from a bunch of different places, including a tarot card theme per chapter. some dialogue and scenes will reflect or tie back to the original story by pixelberry.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: ride or die – colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler); minor logan x mc series rating/warnings: 16+ chapter rating/warnings: 13+ word count: 4.2k story summary: eleanor wheeler is a princess and dreading her 18th birthday when she’s expected to select her future husband from her stifling peer group of eligible nobles. however, a not-so-chance encounter with a mysterious stranger she can’t quite place and a reckoning unlike any other finds her on a crazy self-discovery journey and quest to reclaim her throne.

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower

a tall, severe looking woman loomed over ellie’s head from behind, casting a shadow on the random flowers and landscapes she had been doodling in the notebook in front of her for the last two hours. she was supposed to be taking notes on all the suitable princes that would be arriving late afternoon to attend her eighteenth birthday ball, which happened to be one of her least favorite annual traditions. even though she would prefer a day out in the town or a quiet day in with those closest to her, as the guest of honor it was her duty to play host to all royals and nobles from the neighboring kingdoms while dodging inappropriate commentary about her beauty and womanly figure from men who were her father’s age and their wives who not-so-subtly insisted on trying to set her up with their sons.

this year, though, the ball was going to take on a slightly different, or rather expanded, purpose. it was also going to serve as her official societal debut as an adult, which meant it was going to be exponentially harder to avoid all the matchmaking conversations. now that she was turning eighteen, she was expected to pick a suitor by the end of the social season. and unfortunately for her, the end was coming up in a fortnight. as much as she hated how long the social season felt, now she wished she could delay it a little longer.

ellie flinched at the sound of her etiquette tutor’s stern voice and pointer slamming down on her parchment, bringing her attention back to the lesson.

“i don’t think drawing horses and flowers has any value in helping you select a proper suitor, your highness. today of all days, you must pay attention.”

ellie straightened up in her seat and feigned the sincerity in her voice as she replied, “i’m so sorry, mrs. clarke. i was paying attention – i know the best economically advantageous ally for us would be with the vandermeer family since we share a border.”

mrs. clark clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “we’ll review again, from the top.”

ellie inwardly groaned as she counted the minutes until her lecture was over. she wasn’t sure why she needed a refresher on the histories and lineage of each of the noble families that would be in attendance, but her father had insisted it was critical to making the right impression on her future in-laws, a term she already resented. she was only turning eighteen and had never been out of the country on her own before. how could she be expected to get married?

as soon as she was dismissed, she ran, or rather, walked as briskly as a princess should, to her chambers, where her best friend and lady-in-waiting, riya was waiting for her with her riding outfit prepared and tarot deck in hand.

“you are the best, riya! after three hours hearing about the same old stories about how noble families are constantly fighting for wealth or defending their titles, i could really use a ride,” ellie grimaced, letting out a loud sigh as riya helped her out of her dress, loosening the tight laces on the corset and helping her get changed.

“mmhm, and spend some time with looogan,” riya teased. ellie gave riya a pointed look as she pulled on her boots.

riya just looked at ellie with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen the way you look at him, and more importantly, the way he looks at you.”

ellie blushed. “i know, he’s sweet and he was my first kiss and everything, but at the end of the day, he’s my bodyguard and i have to marry a noble.”

riya wrapped ellie up in a big hug. “i know that sucks but i’m here for you, okay?”

“only when darius isn’t around, right?” ellie giggled at the blush that appeared on riya’s cheeks, earning her a light smack on the arm. “but really, thanks, riya.”

riya handed ellie the tarot deck – it was one of the few remaining possessions of her mother’s and it always made ellie feel a little closer to her mom whenever she communed with the cards – as though it was her mother’s spirit guiding her. ellie unfolded the handsewn and embroidered altar cloth and spread out the cards before her. she could really use some of that guidance today. ellie took a deep breath and concentrated on her intention for the day, although it was something she’d been ruminating over several weeks, which was: what is next for me?

ellie hovered her hand over the cards and moved from left to right with deliberation. she couldn’t describe exactly how the cards called her but it was a feeling, and when she felt the familiar invisible tug, she opened her eyes and flipped over the card.

the tower upright. one of the most dreaded cards in the deck and one that ellie had experienced only once before, when her mother died five years ago. ellie stared at the card until she felt riya’s reassuring hand on her shoulder. “it’s okay,” riya said softly, gently grabbing the card from ellie’s hand and nudging her to stand.

“i know. i can’t dwell on this now. thanks riya,” ellie sighed and made her way over to the door. “i’ll be back in an hour.”

* * * * * the sky was absolutely clear outside with the sun shining brightly overhead. ellie closed her eyes outside the stables and tilted her head upward so she could relish the warmth. feeling the gentle breeze tickle her hair and the sun warm her face immediately lightened her mood.

“hey there, troublemaker.”

ellie opened her eyes to find herself staring into the warm, brown eyes of her one-time adolescent crush. logan was leaning casually against the doorframe, his tousled hair framing his tanned face. ellie let her eyes wander around his face, taking in his firm jaw and high cheekbones and the way the corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, before responding.

“as i recall, you were always the one in trouble,” she smirked, walking around him and into the stables.

logan followed behind ellie, stopping to take the reins of midnight, her strong, black stallion and the more tempered chestnut mare he often rode to keep her company so he could lead the horses outside. “by the way, i’m pretty sure you’re the reason i got into trouble, since you seemed to make it your personal mission to ditch your security detail.”

ellie stuck her tongue out at him before climbing into the saddle swiftly. nothing quite compared to the feeling of freedom and control that she felt while riding. it didn’t take long before she was urging midnight to a gallop across the fields toward the woods at the edge of the palace property. she knew without looking that logan was right behind her, albeit a few paces behind given the chestnut mare he was riding was a little older. he was always cognizant of her reputation and kept up the appearances of distance between the two of them. the chestnut mare, which was the typical choice for noble ladies, was one such example of logan’s thoughtfulness toward her reputation. anyone paying attention to the stables would assume he had taken midnight while she rode the mare.

she finally slowed enough for logan to catch up as they approached the woods and she gently guided midnight toward a small path that they both knew by heart. it was a fairly narrow dirt path that seemed to go nowhere but she had discovered as a child that by turning right at a particular gap in the trees, the path opened up to a small clearing and pond in the center. ellie dismounted and made her way over to the pond, taking off her boots so she could dip her feet in the water. logan mirrored her and the two of them sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling with the breeze.

“i can’t believe somehow i’m supposed to decide who i want to marry today,” ellie said with a loud sigh. “i thought i would feel differently about being eighteen, but it’s just another day like all the others, isn’t it? i’m supposed to just keep my head down and do what’s asked of me.” she looked over at logan and felt a longing rise in her chest. the sun trickling through the leaves of the trees above them created dancing shadows on his serene face.

logan finally looked over at her and ellie suddenly felt as though the clearing was too warm and the water encircling her feet was not cold enough and all she wanted to do was reach over and pull logan into a kiss so she could breathe easy again. she didn’t know that much about him since he kept to himself so maybe her feelings were mostly physical in nature, but there was just something about him, especially when he looked at her as tenderly as he was doing now, that made her wish deep-down that she was born of a life where she had the option to choose him.

“no matter what, birthdays are for celebrating with those you love. and there’s a team of people working really hard to make sure that you get to celebrate the right way,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile that seemed to glow with warmth from the sun.

ellie pulled her feet out of the water and began drying off. “are you part of this ‘team of people’?” she asked, letting herself feel excited and repress the dread and longing she felt moments before.

logan smirked at her as she lifted herself onto her horse, following suit on his own. “that’s a secret. now, we better get back quickly before i get sentenced to death for kidnapping the princess.”

* * * * * the rest of the afternoon sped by as ellie was meticulously prepped as though she were both a rag doll and porcelain figurine. she was bathed, combed, and groomed until her skin felt raw and her scalp tingled unpleasantly before being pinched, waxed, and made up with delicate eye makeup and a deure shade of lipstick. finally, ellie put on her custom pale pink a-line gown with a flowing tulle skirt and lace sleeves. the high neckline kept the dress modest, but the cinched waist showed off her svelte figure. gold lace and intricate embroidery detail covered the dress, balancing the sheer softness of the pink against the bold color that would certainly shimmer under the ballroom chandeliers. riya carefully placed a gold braided headband on ellie’s head before securely tying the white mask decorated with pink and gold feathers over ellie’s eyes.

ellie had suggested the masquerade theme by convincing her father that getting to know the suitors while in disguise would help her make a more objective choice since hopefully they wouldn’t realize who she really was until the end of the evening. secretly, ellie also wanted to see if anyone would be interested in her if they didn’t know she was the princess. once riya gave her the thumbs up, ellie took a deep breath and stepped outside her room.

logan straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall opposite the door to ellie’s room. as her personal bodyguard, he was allowed to stay close to her, but he knew he was often pushing the definition of “close.” his eyes widened as he took in ellie’s appearance – she looked both absolutely angelic and mysterious, and he simultaneously forgot and became painfully aware that he was well below her station.

ellie beamed at him and gave a small twirl to show off the full dress. “what do you think?”

“you look absolutely breathtaking, your highness. now let’s go make your secret entrance,” logan said, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and holding out his arm.

as ellie slid her petite arm through his, logan heard a soft voice whisper, it’s okay to love her. he looked around quickly with his peripheral vision but knew deep-down that the voice came from inside him. whether or not he had any real feelings for ellie didn’t matter, he had a job to do and couldn’t afford any distractions, no matter how beautiful and funny and kind they may be. as he led her down the back stairwell toward a side door he couldn’t help but glance down, trying to memorize the feel of her arm in his and the glow of the lights illuminating her cheeks. as they walked out the door, he took a deep breath and buried that voice as far down as he could, covering it with a metaphorical lid. she wasn’t meant to be his.

ellie extricated her arm from logan’s and gave him a nod. he stepped back and disappeared around the corner, presumably to find a shadow in the ballroom he would use to keep watch. ellie watched as noble after noble, dressed in their most ornate masks and formal wear made their way up the steps and through the palace doors. she clenched her fists at her side to steel herself before lifting her chin with pride and taking a step forward. she could do this.

she stepped inside and was quickly escorted by a servant toward the intimidating ballroom doors. out of the corner of her eye, she saw logan give her a reassuring smile from his “hiding place,” and smiled to herself before squaring her shoulders and walking purposefully into the ballroom, hoping she looked like the epitome of a noble lady. the room was already bustling with conversation and people milling about with drinks, and she flagged down the nearest servant as discreetly as she could so she could grab a flute of the sparkling champagne.

she took a careful sip and crinkled her nose at the carbonated bubbles tickling her nose but then quickly drank half the class once she realized she liked the crisp, dry flavor that hinted of apple. she felt the liquid settle in her stomach and a warm feeling bloom outward until she felt it on her cheeks. she had alcohol before of course, but forgot to take it slow.

ellie didn’t notice a tall nobleman walking toward her from the left and it was too late to pivot once she did. she took a couple steps to the left while looking to her right for a servant to leave her empty glass with when she walked right into a dark-haired man wearing a soft, velvet frock set in black and trimmed in silver lace and black silk gloves. her hand immediately went from where it was holding the skirt of her dress to his abdomen and she looked up to meet the most intense gaze she’d ever encountered. She could feel his gaze piercing through his matching black velvet mask.

“oh, i’m so sorry sir,” she quickly stammered, trying to take an off-balance step back to create space between them.

his arm shot out quickly under hers and held her steady at the waist. ellie felt her cheeks warm at his touch; it was strange, but she felt like his touch was just as intense as his gaze.

“looks like you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear, grabbing the empty champagne flute out of her right hand and placing it on the tray of a servant walking past them.

ellie felt her temper flare and deliberately took a step back and smoothed out her skirts to keep from telling him off. “who wants to know?” ellie said, through a clenched smile and glare that she hoped conveyed that she thought he had some nerve talking to her like that.

“just wondering who you’re trying to impress, looking like that,” he replied, the corner of his lip tilting up into a very attractive smirk. “that dress seems a bit overkill if you’re tripping over your feet. not very graceful for a lady, are we?”

“i’m meeting someone so i’m afraid i’m going to have to excuse myself,” ellie forced out through a smile that was already hurting her cheeks. she was tempted to dig her heels into his toes and could imagine the satisfaction she’d feel at hearing him cry out in pain, but instead curtsied and turned to walk away.

she took one step forward when she felt a gloved hand grab onto her pinky finger. she whirled around slowly to maintain an air of grace but glared at the masked man who had let go of her finger and now had his hand outstretched toward her.

“dance with me,” he said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice ellie couldn’t quite place. she looked up into his eyes and realized that she didn’t think she had it in her to say no.

as soon as she nodded, he led her to the dance floor where a few other pairs were already dancing along with the live quartet. his arm slid confidently around her waist and ellie placed hers on his shoulder with practiced ease. she was surprised at the way he led her around the floor so gracefully, it felt like she was barely touching the floor.

“i’m surprised at how light you are on your feet. i don’t think i’ve seen you around,” ellie said carefully, tilting her head up to look at him as he twirled her around.

he smirked. “that’s because i haven’t been around.”

now ellie was really curious. “you mean, this social season? i’ve had to dance with a couple dozen nobles all summer but none of them dance quite like you.”

the smirk on his face faded into a thin, pressed line. “no, i haven’t been around for a few years. my father and i didn’t see eye-to-eye and he didn’t want me around.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—” he quickly spun her out and back in before she could finish her apology.

when he pulled her back in, he lowered his head by her ear and murmured, “i don’t want your pity, sweetheart. see you around.”

he bowed and she curtsied reflexively before he quickly turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. ellie didn’t have time to react before a different nobleman asked her to dance, followed by another, and she found herself going from partner to partner, song to song, making conversation about anything and nothing, leaving her without a chance to catch her breath and make sense of her spinning thoughts.

ellie excused herself from her last partner, grabbing and subsequently draining another glass of champagne from a servant walking by before weaving in and around couples on the dancefloor until she reached the pillar closest to the quartet. she ducked behind the pillar and folded the skirt of her dress behind her so it wouldn’t flare out and took a few slow, deep breaths to calm herself down.

every single person that she danced with clearly had one agenda for tonight. while she was grateful none of them managed to guess who she really was, at least out loud, it was getting tiresome hearing about who they thought had the best chance of marrying her or wondering where she was or wondering if she might be interested in them. only one person didn’t seem to care about that, and she had no idea who he was or where he was from.

maybe she was feeling on edge at the moment with all the adrenaline from the evening pumping through her but she swore she could feel someone approaching her hiding spot. not like the normal self-defense or slightly paranoid feeling of someone coming up behind you, but a real, grounded gut feeling that someone was about to come up to her. ellie quickly pivoted to her right and raised her fists so she wouldn’t be caught off guard but was surprised anyway to see logan.

“whoa, there troublemaker. it’s just me. come on, it’s time for your announcement,” logan said quietly. despite the smirk on his face, ellie couldn’t find the usual playfulness in his eyes.

he led her toward the front where her father was waiting, his arm outstretched toward her. she felt logan leave her side and retreat back to a discreet location a split second before he actually did it, but didn’t get a chance to process that before her father looped her hand through his arm and led her toward the front of the room.

“ready, ellie? your life won’t be the same after this,” her father smiled as he looked down at her the way he had done for as long as she could remember, at least since her mother died. like she was a precious, fragile little flower that needed to be protected from the elements of nature.

before she had a chance to answer, a chorus of silverware clinking against champagne glasses quickly quieted the oblivious conversations still happening and ellie had to physically fight her own body from recoil from all the eyes that were now staring at her. she tried to distract herself from the gnawing in her stomach by scanning the room for any expressions of those she danced with who didn’t realize who she was at the time. it was entertaining to say the least, seeing people suddenly look embarrassed and shocked.

her father cleared his throat and ellie knew that was her cue to smile like the picture-perfect princess if she wasn’t already. she kept scanning the room, and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the mysterious man she bumped into was nowhere to be found. she sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to her father’s speech since she would have to give hers once he was done.

“i just have one last thing to say to my beloved daughter, eleanor. i am so proud of the young woman you’ve become and i know you’ll do great things. everyone please, raise a glass to celebrate my wonderful daughter’s birthday—” he had raised his glass of champagne but was cut off by a rumbling sound overhead that was quickly followed by a CRACK! and the crunch of concrete crumbling together.

ellie looked up and saw a deep fissure was defacing the beautiful greek-castle architecture design of the ceiling and the crack was expanding as it approached the front of the room, where she currently stood next to her father, frozen in shock. she barely registered logan appearing behind her.

“go! keep her safe,” her father implored, turning only after logan gave him a firm nod.

“no, wait, dad!” ellie watched with horror as her dad disappeared behind the fallen rubble until he was out of sight. logan started half-dragging, half-carrying her until she came to her senses and started running as fast as she could in heels and a long dress, letting him guide her by the hand around screaming people and falling concrete.

they stepped out through a hidden exit that was mostly used by servants to make it easier for them to get to the ballroom from the kitchen. logan expertly led her through the hidden corridor and ellie vaguely registered how abandoned the kitchen looked, with trays of desserts and champagne ready to go; the irony of how wasteful this luxury could be was not lost on her. despite how her toes pinched, she kept her mouth shut and did her best to keep up with logan, who made a beeline for the back door and around the castle until they reached the stables.

midnight and a horse ellie didn’t recognize were already saddled with what looked like fully packed saddle bags.

“why does midnight look like she’s been prepared for an escape and whose horse is that?” ellie was dumbfounded and there was no one else in the stables.

logan pulled her toward midnight and lifted her up so she was forced to grab on to the reins and climb into the saddle as he quickly turned to do the same on his horse. “i’ll explain later, we need to get as far away from here as possible. follow my lead and don’t stop for anyone!”

ellie matched logan’s pace as they left the castle grounds and even though they were galloping full speed under the light of the moon, ellie couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. part of the roof had collapsed, leaving the stone turret closest to her vantage point standing alone among the rubble, its gray stone coat illuminated by the moon.

in that moment, she knew she might never see her home or her father again. the picture of the turret standing tall like a tower was seared in her mind and a sense of dread unlike anything she had felt before settled in her chest. she knew this sudden upheaval of her life, the destruction of her home, and the loss of her innocence was only the beginning of what the cards were trying to tell her.

* * * * * mentions: @kat-tia801​; @lovehugsandcandy​; permatag: @withbeautyandrage​; @agentnolastname​; @freckles-spangledvampire​

[bloody-oath]

What would go down at a slasher slumber party (slashers of your choosing, though selfishly hope you'll include Bubba, of course)? I'm thinkin' either a collage-age frat party, or else a childhood or awkward adolescent sleepover at somebody's house, lol. ^_^

I’ll do all three types! It would be a sin to leave Bubba out… When in doubt though, stick to the main four!

**Mild self-harm and animal abuse mentions (Stage 2: Freddy – 3, Stage 3: Jason – 3)**

Stage 1: Childhood Slumber Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Has been at the party for 0.5 seconds and already misses his mother. If he can speak, he accidentally calls the host’s parent ‘mum.’ Didn’t even notice it until Freddy felt it was his duty to almost piss his pants laughing over it and made sure everyone else in the room heard it too.

⋆ Enjoys playing with Bubba the most. Shares his snacks with the Texan boy and makes an E for effort macaroni-and-string best friends bracelet. He was somewhat disappointed when Bubba ate his friendship offering though. Demotes his companion to ‘very good friend’ status.

⋆ Brought teddy along but only takes him out when the lights are turned off at bedtime, so no one notices. Sleeps soundly, but he’s devasted when he wakes up to find his pal’s fur shredded. Doesn’t hesitate to wail on a suddenly disturbed, half-awake, arms-flailing Frederick, all the while Michael pretends to rest with the tiniest visibility of a smirk present and a stolen vegetable knife under his pillow.

Michael Myers

⋆ Possesses the biggest urge to peek into the rooms he’s not allowed into, such as the off-bounds adult bedroom. Will randomly disappear during mid-playtime and sneak in anyway though. Doesn’t steal anything, just removes family photos from frames and rips them in half.

⋆ Likes to play dress up. Doesn’t pretend to be a character or act differently. Simply enjoys disguising his identity. Will stay in the costume until it’s time to go home. Might go home with it too though. Chooses not to interact with the others much. Silently judges them. Thinks Freddy is a bit of a twat.

⋆ Pays close attention when the twat starts sharing ghost stories though. Loves them, not frightened. Plans to scare everyone when it’s time for bed. Does so and makes a scared shitless Bubba cry. Didn’t expect such an exaggerated consequence but enjoys seeing him suffer. Has good dreams that night.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ He didn’t bring a toy to the party, but like hell he’ll be leaving without one. Keeps an eye out for anything good enough to permanently borrow. Stuffs his pockets with sweets to take home since junk food is forbidden at his house.

⋆ Cheats at every game he participates in. Asks everyone to tell him a secret about themselves but no one trusts him. Experiences a serious sugar high and becomes wildly fidgety. Challenges Bubba to a wrestling match and begins to lose until he plays dirty and bites his opponent. Whines when he gets sat on for his dismal sportsmanship.

⋆ Was outside and somehow managed to catch a rat with his bare hands. Breaks the critter’s neck and brings the dead rodent inside to show his buddies what he accomplished. Everyone reacts badly, except Michael who nonchalantly claps, impressed.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Takes him a while to feel comfortable around the others. Has a particular liking for Jason and asks the quiet boy if he’d like to play Tick-Tack-Tooth. Isn’t sure about Michael and watches him from a distance. Has already had enough of Freddy and covertly hopes he has a hazardous mishap and needs to be sent home.

⋆ Relishes having a break from his annoying brothers. Gains a huge stomach-ache from wolfing down on too many lollies. Spends the next hour groaning on his back with much regret. Pouts at the menace for suggesting the others should tie him up and suspend him in the air as a makeshift piñata. Goes back to munching on confectionary as soon as he begins to feel better. Might learn his lesson after the fourth time.

⋆ Excels in the arts and crafts fun. Creates masks for everyone to wear. Can’t wait to show his family what he’s made all by himself. Especially adores using the face paint. Clumsily knocks over a pot of dye and damages the carpet. Freaks the fuck out because he knows what happens if he ruins anything at home. Squints, trembles and braces himself for the belting. Everyone else just stares.

Stage 2: Awkward Adolescent Sleepover

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Still misses his mother and feels even less confident to socialise. Was the tallest as a kid and still is. Feels marginally proud to retain that achievement. Didn’t want to run into Freddy again but he’s glad he can at least hang out with Bubba. Wondered who was behind the white mask and later realised it was ‘that kid’ he knew from childhood. Forgot Michael’s name.

⋆ Brought some homemade cookies he and Pamela baked together and could honestly smack a shrimp bitch when Freddy disposes of them in the bin. Coolly composes himself. Kind of wants to exhibit his amateur muscles and use his superior strength on the asshole though. Shows Bubba he’s been building up and behaves timidly when his old chum praises him for his efforts.

⋆ Glad no one tried to sneak in any intoxicating beverages or street medicine. Wonders if he’s being too optimistic but genuinely sees his allies having bright futures. Moderately worried about that Michael boy though. Spends the rest of the evening following everyone else’s lead. Got a headache after listening to Freddy talk so much shit and can’t sleep with Bubba snoring like a freight train.

Michael Myers

⋆ Hates being dragged along to another wretched sleepover. Noticed Freddy grew about an inch taller. Throws shade the entire time. Tries to escape the premises but changes his mind when he hears a scary movie being played in the video player. Thoroughly enjoys watching the violent scenes and mentally takes a few notes.

⋆ Teaches the squad how to make a rope noose. Encourages everyone to put it around their necks to make sure they fit. Isn’t being suspicious at all. Brought his knife collection to the gathering and flaunts his favourite daggers. Points out which blades he’s specifically going to use to slaughter each one of them. No one takes him seriously.

⋆ Figures this reunion really does suck and makes a second attempt to leg it out. Couldn’t care less about catching up, hearing how their dreary lives have been or chatting about gross women. Literally gives everyone the middle finger salute and departs. Raids a fast food joint on his way home.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to compare dick sizes with everyone else. Feels humiliated and provoked when he finds out he has the shortest penis. Swears he’ll be the first to lose his virginity though. Goes into great detail about what his sexual desires are and the porn videos he’s seen that influenced the said fetishes.

⋆ His voice begins to break halfway through telling a joke and he goes from talking nonstop to suddenly being speechless. Wonders if tonight is going to get any worse. Exits the room to practice hiding the squeak when he speaks and re-joins the gang with an abnormal, obviously fake Elvis Presley tone.

⋆ Expresses how he has the urge to hurt himself and others, including the innocent. Says the cravings are becoming harder to resist to older he gets. Adds he’s been experiencing powerful fits of anger and battles to control it. No one acts surprised. Casually changes the subject to masturbation.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Found a vintage glamour magazine from Grandpa’s hidden stash and brings the subtly raunchy publication to the sleepover to share with the boys. Becomes aroused a little too easy just by examining the front cover and desperately tries to hide his first-ever erection. Confused and scared.

⋆ Gives a sigh of relief when he goes back to being flaccid. Apprehensively thinks of an excuse to say regarding why he took so long in the bathroom when he reappears in the group. Doesn’t have to use it because no one noticed he even left. Avoids partaking in any lewd discussions or naughty centrefold viewing. Fearful of that accident happening again.

⋆ Doesn’t waver to show off his newly grown body hair though. High-key delighted by his pelt. Compares his super hairy arms to Freddy’s non-existent fuzz and breaks into a chuckling fit. Feels a bit hurt when the shorty points out he’s only getting fatter and uglier though. Never deemed himself to have self-confidence issues until now. Appreciated Jason and Michael playing keepings-off with the bully’s stupid hat.

Stage 3: College Frat Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Avoids consuming any alcohol because he knows better. Also denies any offered drugs. Straight up shoved a hoe to the ground when they sloppily asked if he wanted to have some dirty fun. Hates how the party has started but tries to enjoy himself. Ends up hanging out with the stray cat who sometimes chills out on the fire escape.

⋆ Acts as a caretaker and monitors his highly intoxicated buddies. Openly judges them. Tries to have his own little celebration by eating the leftover pizza in the fridge and watching prime time infomercials on the telly. Began to loosen up until Freddy willingly broke the flatscreen and went on to say he can provide better entertainment. Not amused in the slightest by witnessing his frenemy lighting his farts on fire.

⋆ Needs an aspirin and exits the room to get some fresh air and visits his feline acquaintance again. Incredibly disturbed when he finds a hammered Bubba trying to stretch the cat’s skinned face over his own. Feels betrayed and just wants this night to end. Wonders what it would be like to taste alcohol though and pours a single drop of it onto his tongue. Immediately spits it out. Knows this wouldn’t have happened if his mother was here. Acts mopey and continues to miss her.

Michael Myers

⋆ Has no interest in alcohol consumption but doesn’t hesitate to inject heroin in his veins from a used needle he found discarded on the ground. Arrives at the festive dormitory and busts down the door. Extremely hyped and aggravated. Uses said broken wood to go surfing down the emergency exit spiral stairwell. Severely wipes out towards the end of the ride.

⋆ Wants to fight everyone he sees and proceeds to do so. Finally appears back at the party with bloodied fists and two syringes poking out of his arms. Becomes confronted by a worried, sober Jason and gets his ass served to a beanbag for calming down purposes. Thought the pouf looked at him funny and foam pellets go flying.

⋆ Passes out in a bathtub full of vomit, not of his own, and wakes up hours later naked on the roof with now seven needles inserted. Can’t decide if he’s still alive or dead. Spends the rest of the night presuming he’s an invisible ghost. Trolls immensely.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to play beer pong and won’t stop talking about beer pong until at least one person plays beer pong with him. No one does though, so he faces the table against the wall and verses himself. Gets totally wasted and needs to repetitively inform everyone just how drunk he is.

⋆ Fails to hook up with someone and pursues to suck his own cock. Thinks he does a better job at it anyway. Proposes free pony rides to all the chicks attending the party but results in scaring them further away. Bubba excitedly raises his hand though and frantically searches the dorm for his cowboy hat. Speedily withdraws the offer and explains there isn’t a horse involved. Back to drinking.

⋆ Makes the mistake of walking past a body-length mirror and gets a horrifying glimpse of his reflection. Too wasted to realise that’s how he always looks like and starts to freak out. Yells why no one thought to take him to the hospital because maybe the doctors could have saved him. Just sits ugly-crying in front of the mirror with one hand on the glass and a can of beer in the other. Suddenly perks up when someone asks for volunteers to help steal the opposing frat house’s pet pig though.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Overwhelmed. Only has a sip of alcohol, then chugs the rest of the bottle dry. Was going to pace himself but ends up driving the porcelain bus an hour into the party. Wants to laugh, cry, shit, spew, scream and dance all at the same time. Succeeds.

⋆ Can’t get enough of the booze but stays clear of the flying pink elephant inducing pills. By far the most trashed and happiest person in the room. Turns the stereo up to its maximum volume and blabbers about how every song it plays is his favourite song. Very footloose. Starts a conga line and happens to be both at the beginning and end of it because no one else joined in.

⋆ Removes his sweaty shirt and uses it to do the helicopter. Hurls it onto a poor, unexpecting person’s head. Pours bottles of liquor over his bare torso and warily squeals when he feels the fluid seep down his pants, into his crack. Goes on to remove the rest of his clothing and embarks streaking through the sprinklers on the front lawn of the college. Has multiple school officers chasing after him.

[keladryhawklight]

The Scourge

Sometime during the Night, Kel & Sandor’s Apartment

The low whistle of a blight-barrel sounded as it soared through the air, impacting with a low boom against the barrier of the Hollow. In the dark of night, battle cries rang from the shadows as the hundreds of Forsaken soldiers emerged from the once-quiet forests of the Hinterlands; the men on duty sounded the alarm, ringing throughout the Hollow. A pair of fearful violet-eyes snapped open in the silence of the militants quarters, startled from sleep by the low rumbles and panicked screams.

“All civilians to the tunnel!” A mans voice thundered outside.

 The bells rang, loudly and urgently in the darkest part of the night. Kel came awake in an instant, sending cat, dog and crab tumbling every which way in her moment of fear. A scream strangled in her throat as she looked left and right around the room to discover the source of the noise. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest as she fought to catch her breath in the face of such a fright. Sweat beaded on her neck and in the tendrils of hair around her face. In an instant, she had forgotten where she was, and whom she shared her bed with. Instead, she had been cast back to another moment in time when such horrors had come in the night. The Light within her returned in an instant, wrapping itself around her hands, as they clutched at the blankets pooling in her lap. For weeks it had been strangely dimmed, something she could only attribute to the mysteries of her pregnancy; it had pained her somewhat, but the true touch of it's warmth had never left. It had simply been as if she had expended it all. It weaved, flickering on the air, sparking off her hands as she fought for control of it, and herself.

On and on the bells pealed incessantly. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Shouts rang outside, shouts of the guards she knew who patrolled this hour. Of people in the streets. Screams of those innocents who happened to be about at such a late hour. Launching herself out of bed she almost collapsed as the blood rushed back to her. White-knuckling their footboard, she stood for a moment and simply breathed while her vision whited in and out. Come little child, her thoughts whispered to the tiny being she carried. Now is not the time for this. Standing there dressed in naught but one of Sandor's shirts, she fought against the pressure put upon her in that moment by their child. Their child. She had to move. But her feet refused to. Refused to face what horror had come to their door. For once, she was terrified beyond belief. It was not just her and Sandor anymore. It was her, Sandor, and their child.

 What in the name of the Light do I do? her thoughts whispered to her silently. What do I do?

 Beside her, Sandor slept. His brow furrowed as he dreamed. He too, shared the uncertain world of dreams, and was often visited by memories past.

He was back in the Cathedral. The massive church with its vaunted ceilings was lit with innumerable torches and candles. Around him were Crusaders; Clerics, Priests, and Knights. At the alter stood a tall, slim woman. Her face was obscured in reddish shadow.

 "BRAVE MEN AND WOMEN OF THE SCARLET CRUSADE!" She called, her voice echoing in the marbled halls. "WHAT IS OUR PURPOSE?" "TO CLEANSE THE LAND OF SCOURGE AND RECLAIM IT FOR THE LIGHT!" "THAT'S RIGHT!" She responded, extending her hand. "NOW GO FORTH! PURGE THIS LAND OF UNDEATH, UNHOLY, AND ALL HERETICS THAT STAND IN OUR WAY!" The assembled host turned, revealing Sandor - not the young man as he had been when the Crusade fell, but as he was now - amongst the Crusaders. There calls of battle soared as they approached the massive doors of the Cathedral.

 Sandor sat upright, and startled, seeing Keladry gripping the side of the bed. His breath quick, he rose and moved quickly to her side. He pushed the bells and rising screams from his attention as he knelt by her, placing his hands on her stomach.

"My Lady-... What-..." He looked towards the window, a faint orange hue growing. Was that fire? "We must get you to safety. I fear the Scourge has finally made it's way to Stormwind."

It didn't take a Gnomish engineer to realize what was going on. He didn't have time to wonder how the Scourge had made it south so quickly. What he needed to do was act.

 Her eyes found his, hers wide and wild with fear. Her hands clutched at his desperately as she struggled to pull herself and her racing heartbeat under control. In his hands, she trembled like a leaf, her body shaking as the memories of a night past washed over her and the uncertainties of the future grasped at her tightly. Light came off of her in wisps, sparking in the air of their bedroom erratically. For all the control she normally had, in this moment it was gone. Her breath came in quiet pants, as she struggled to separate the world of dream and memory, from the disaster of their reality. Her gaze landed on Sandor as he suddenly appeared before her, his hands gentle as they cradled her stomach. Her thoughts raced as she regarded him, spilling over one another in no planned manner. He had been sleeping. They had been sleeping. The Hollow? Their home. They were home. Stromwind, they were in Stormwind. "What is going on," she beseeched him softly after a long moment. Her voice was thready, higher pitched from the emotions racing through her. "Sandor, what is going on?!" His words echoed in her mind. The Scourge. She knew the Scourge. They had come for them once again. First it had been the Hollow, and now it had found them again, nestled in their Stormwind apartment. Their safety, their nest that they had so carefully, so meticulously carved out in the safest of areas within the heartlands of the Alliance, had been in an instant shattered once more. "How can they be here?!" she questioned him. "How? How? We were supposed to be safe here. I-" Her words ceased abruptly as the realization sunk in, and reality hit her like a stone. Once again, when their world was about to turn upside down, they were going to be separated. The colour leeched from her face at the realization. "I.. We.. You.. you must see to the Enlisted, and the defence of the city. And I.. must see to the hospital. To the soldiers coming in for immediate assistance."  

 Sandor shushed her as her questions raced; reaching a hand up to stroke her face. His voice was calm, steady, despite his racing heart. He wouldn't fail her. No here. Not tonight. For almost a decade, he had run from the teachings of the Crusade. The brutal, singular-minded drive that had been instilled in him to seek out and purge Undeath. The training was harsh, and by the end, the Crusade had been manipulated and twisted into a shadow of its formal self. He had long ago rejected those teachings; but if the Scourge had made it to the home of the Alliance, to their home, he couldn't afford the luxury of being discerning in his methods. He nodded at her words. He took her hands into his, uttering a prayer to the Light. Keladry would feel herself enshrouded in a barrier of the Light. It would provide her with some protection against the Undead. "I will do as you command, my Love. Prepare yourself for the battle to come, and trust in the Light."

 Stealing the briefest moment in time they could ill afford, she nuzzled into the hand that stroked her face, bringing the smallest modicum of comfort to her racing heart. His voice was quiet as he shushed her, his demeanor calm. *How can he be so steadfast?* her thoughts questioned silently. *Our home..* Her eyes searched his frantically, searching for the answer to his calmness. Her heart continued to race erratically as she sought to pull herself under control.

 The scourge had come to the city. First their king had vanished, plucked out of the skies by the banshee's valkyr. Their songs haunted her dreams-- ever since that fateful day in the Plaguelands where she had fallen from the arms of one to the earth below, she had never forgotten that haunting, keening wail that heralded the arrival of the creatures. They too had come, plummeting into the very heart of their lands to take from them their leader. The act had, in instants, plunged them all back into darkness, back into uncertainty, and back into fear.

Her stomach rolled, their child making itself known. Her hand shot to her stomach instinctively, cradling the spot that had just been kicked. She knew they could not dally. Not this time. She reached for her hospital clothes, loose linens that would allow her to work without restrictions. It was going to be a long night indeed, so she knew. In moments, she was pulling on her boots, buckling her medical bags to her waist. "Duke, come,"  she crooned to the little pug who darted left and right. He didn't understand the excitement. Didn't know what was going on. To him, his owners were simply up and about, and that was his concern. She grabbed a spare medical bag, bigger than the rest. Scooping him up, she tucked him deep within the confines of her medical bag. It was a heavier bag, and could easily contain the both of them for a little while. Bacon could ride in his spot between her shirt and shoulder, his little claws hooked into her underclothing quite well. But Duke and Yenafur.. "My love, corral your cat. She will have to share a place with Duke until we can reach the hospital. I will let them run free in my office-- they will be safer there, surrounded by the hospital guards, and the city watch who will no doubt be on site."

 Sandor nodded; taking stock of the situation. His heart was pounding; but he kept his breathing even; slowly through the nose, and slowly out through the mouth. He glanced around, searching for the shaggy grey cat. Yenafur had pressed herself into the corner, meowling in protest to all the activity in the bedroom. Sandor scooped the cat up, scratching her chin and neck. The cat immediately began to calm down as he passed her over to Keladry. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Take your communicator; let me know when you make it to the hospital, and if there are any issues." He peered into her mismatched eyes, trying to impart as much calm and resolve as he could. "I'll be in touch when I reach the enlisted quarters. With luck, the Corporals have begun to mount a defense." He pulled her close, kissing her. He didn't want to separate himself from her, but they had jobs to do. He pulled back, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "Go with the Light, my Lady."

 A grimace crossed her face  as she tucked the pair into the medical bag. One of her bigger ones, it would allow them to wiggle about just *barely* before settling down. If she clipped it, but didn't zip it shut, then they would have more than enough air and light to prevent instant panic before she reached the Cathedral. Hopefully, they both settled as they often did, and curled up for a quiet trip. She lifted the bag carefully, settling it across her shoulders, clipping it into place. She could feel them through the bag, pressed close against her bag. Their family. As for Bacon, he soon settled in his normal travelling spot; tucked into her shirt between the curve of her neck and her collarbone, his tiny claws holding him securely.

 As Sandor's hands came down on her shoulders, she stilled. His words were solemn. She knew he had the same pressing concerns as she at the front of her mind. His green eyes searched hers, and she found calmness, strength, resolve, *love*, all hidden within those depths. He kissed her once, imparting all the words they hadn't said between them in that one single gesture. There was so much they had not said to each other, so many adventures they had not yet lived. Her hands crept up around his neck, and she pressed herself close, clinging to him in that moment, hugging him for all she was worth.

 "This is not goodbye," she whispered to him. "This is not. I refuse to acknowledge it as a goodbye. It is a see you soon, do you understand me?"

 Sandor let himself melt a little into her embrace. He could feel his heart beat faster as she held him close. After a moment, he nodded at her words. “I will see you soon, my love.”

 At his words, she nodded, and stepped away. Affording one last look, she took in every detail of his face before she left. Her hand came up to clasp his for a brief moment. Memorizing the lines in his face, the colour in his eyes. Feeling the warmth in his touch, and in his gaze. Light flashed between their touch in an instant, her own returned blessings of safety and protection to carry him through the night. Pausing at the door, she picked up one last item; her longsword, well honed, and etched with the runes of the Light. It would serve her well, if worst came to worst. She did not want to consider such a thought. The Cathedral and the hospital were not far, but she could ill afford to take a risk. Not when she guarded their family with her life. As she departed their apartment, she paused, staring up at the suddenly bleak looking façade. Her eyes welled as she considered what was and what might be. It was too difficult a thing to comprehend, the magnitude of loss this would be to either of them. If she were to lose him, she couldn't imagine the pain in simply breathing with him gone. And if he were to lose her, it wouldn't be simply one loss. It would be the loss of two. Leaving him was the hardest thing she had done thus far, and it wrenched her heart to not know what the coming days would bring to them. They both had duties, and they both understood and knew what was expected of them. But the dull ache of 'what if' burned deep down.

 No, Kel. You must stop, her thoughts chided softly. Do not fall to such thoughts. Do not give into such thoughts. Be strong now. You may cry later. Giving her head a shake, she blinked away the tears, and drew her sword from it's scabbard. Light flashed along the blade as the runes lit up the dark night.

"And 'lo, I walk through the valley of darkest shadows, I have the Light as my shepherd," she whispered softly. "It is my strength, my rock, my shelter from the storm. In it, I place my most sacred of trusts."

 As the words faded, she moved. Darting down the dark streets, towards the orange glow. Towards the Hospital.

 After she left, Sandor hastily tucked his tunic into his trousers. Finding his leather boots in the corner, he pulled them on. From a drawer he produced two studded leather bracers. In a pinch, the hardened hide could hold back the bite of a ghoul, inadvisable as the tactic was. He grabbed his 7th Legion sword, ornately decorated with eagles and lions, and slung the scabbard over his back. From the closet, he fetched his shield and warhammer, before finally letting out a sharp exhale. “Time to go to work,” He grimly uttered before making his way downstairs. Checking his grip on his hammer, taking a few steady breaths to prepare himself. He pulled the door open, being greeted by the sickly-sweet smell of undeath, the tolling of bells, the distant screams and accompanying moans. His eyes quickly scanned the street, several blocks from the Cathedral square. A family down the street was standing on their stoop, huddled together. His first instinct was to approach them, have them come with him to the enlisted quarters. He strode in their direction, his pace quickening. From the alley a pack of ghouls, perhaps three or four, shambled, spotting the family. The mother shrieked, dragging her two small children inside. The father brandished a steak knife, shakily shouting at the ghouls to get back. He quickened into a full spring, swinging his hammer into the skull of one of the straggling ghouls in the pack. It immediately crumpled to the ground, it’s body broken and mangled. The man, spotting the action, smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, just before the first ghoul made it to the stoop, grabbing the man's arm and biting into it. Rivulets of blood flowed outwards, towards the man who screamed, attempting to push the ghoul away. The skulls of two more ghouls crumpled under the weight of his blows, before he swung, bringing his hammer to bear against the remaining ghoul's knees. The ghoul dropped, releasing his grip on the man. Setting his hammer back down, Sandor grasped the man by the shoulders, giving him a brief shake. The man's eye's frantically searched Sandor's. "T-Thank you, ser-.."

Sandor shook his head answering quietly, "There is no time for that. You've been bitten, which means you are likely infected. Tell your wife to board up your home, and make your way to the hospital. They will do what they can for you there." The man's eyes widened. "W-What?? Can't you take me?!" Sandor shook his head. "I am needed elsewhere. Now hurry. You don't have long." The man frantically nodded, before knocking on the door. Turning, Sandor began his journey once again, heading in the direction of the Dwarven District.

[cadday]

Collateral  Damage - Chapter 5

Braig almost thinks last night was a dream, or a weirdly mellow nightmare. He realizes that it’s not the case when he sees the lantern sitting by his door and well of he concentrates he can feel it. The other heart sleeping in him, which is terrifyingly familiar but not all the same. None of the hearts he hosted before were so...quiet. Still he had made this choice and would have to live for it for now at least. He briefly realizes he should have thought this through better but hindsight was a bitch. 

Oddly though he honestly felt better then he had since, well since being possessed by some ancient asshole bent on fulfilling the prophecies of his absentee most likely equally an asshole master and was probably seeking the end of worlds or some bull but really just wrecked Braig’s life like he didn’t do a good enough job being a disaster.

The other presence did some strange humming, warm feeling, in agreement and he laughed a bit startled at the feeling. So the heart was familiar with the jerk who possessed him, charming, at least it agreed that the guy was a dick. 

The morning besides his new guest was uneventful. That was Master Ansem called them together to ‘introduce’ them to Isa and Lea. Which one was hilarious because they had met the twerps before, two activated the headache he got almost every day as his brain tried to not picture taller red and blue brats, and three the two brats looked like they had been caught red handed which made him wonder if they had been sneaking around again when they were offered jobs. 

Isa got stuck with Even, who began to rant about babysitting and Ienzo merely looked long suffering in his direction before heading off with them. Lea was stuck with guard duty, he doubted the kid had patience for the lab stuff anyway. To be fair Braig rarely did either, Dilan and Aeleus took more shifts with the lab work then he ever did. Which was fine by him because he had a habit of letting experiments, well, explode.

“Alright Lea, I guess we’ll do a quick round of what guard duty routine looks like. Your probably familiar with the rounds near the front gate’s though.” Hey, would you look at that full sentences. He wondered if it had anything to do with his new resident. Braig decided that was on the worry about later list too. The kid at least looked guilty for a second before he shrugged. 

“I’m an overachiever, already got em memorized.” And geeze Braig had to stop for a second and steady himself because, yeah this was going to be difficult.  Dilan frowned at him as Braig pressed a hand to his bad eye. 

‘Axel!’

‘Axel? Please. The name’s Lea. Got it memorized?’

‘Your not supposed to be here.’

‘Promises to keep, I’ll always be there to get my friends back…’

“BRAIG!” He jumps back from Dilan who is shaking his shoulder. Aeleus and Lea are gone he realizes and he frowns. Dilan is looking at him funny and he realizes his new heart friend feels kind of panicked. He blinks stupidly at Dilan and carefully drops his hand.

“Sorry, migraine. Wh…,” He looks around the room with a frown. “Where’s Aeleus and,” Axel, “Lea…” Dilan was still holding his shoulder, he wasn't talking and Braig’s head hurt so freakin much. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s get going.” Dilan didn’t look like he believed him, which you know was fair, but slowly he released Braigs arm like he was afraid the other guard was about to collapse, which yeah that was also fair. 

“ You should let Even check you out, maybe he can give you something to help,” Braig made a disgusted face, “Or don’t and suffer needlessly and unnecessarily worry everyone around.”

“Oh come on that’s low. Fine whatever I’ll ask him. I don’t know if it will do any good but whatever.” Braig waved a hand in a dismissive manner. Dilan smirked in what he recognized as his I totally won this fight face and Braig rolled his eyes at his smug expression.

“As annoying as your voice is, I am glad you’ve regained the functionality to form coherent thoughts at the very least. I was concerned you would be forever limited to speaking like a two year old, now I see you’ve managed the language  of a three year old and offer you my sincerest congratulations on the development.” Braig snorted and swung an arm around Dilan pulling on his shoulders intentionally to bring the man down to his level.

“Hey as if. My vocabulary is way too colorful to be some ankle biters. If a kid talks like I do I’d be concerned about their upbringing.” 

“Fair as we are all so concerned at upbringing must have occurred to create you.” Dilan stood back up to his full height and Braigs hand dropped to the closer shoulder.

“Clearly I popped into existence a fully grown bastard.”

“This explains so much…” 

Aeleus and Lea came into view when they entered the garden and Aeleus was explaining post rotations to a very bored looking red head.

“Geeze Flamsilocks, you look like someone stole you ice cream.” His head gave a warning throb at the usage of the nickname and the other heart felt like it was more awake. Great he needed to try to focus like a person not having a mental breakdown. Lea scowled at the nickname. 

“Oh come on kid, maybe later you can get a tour of parts of the castle that you haven’t snuck into yet.” The kid crossed his arms and made a point of not looking at any of them.

“Geeze we were just trying to visit the girl. I don’t see what the big deal is, why doesn’t she ever come out anyway? You creeps locking up girls or something?” Lea’s hands are on his hips and he looks determined…

Axel looks so determined when he goes to try to save Roxas but he’ll fail. This is all destined to fail. It’s all destined...prophesied...stupid book, stupid box…. 

The other heart pushed at something and Braig blinked away the memories, future, thoughts, whatever, and was glad that no one noticed this time as both Aeleus and Dilan were now explaining there is no girl. Braig supposes their not completely wrong and the heart in his chest agrees. The situation is complicated and he doubts Lea would listen if he tried to explain it.

“It’s a weird game to be playing at your age isn’t it, imaginary princess you have to save from a castle.” Would you look at that the kid can turn red in the face too. 

“Whatever, you're all full of it.” Braig shrugs and Dilan and Aeleus look long suffering, but that’s normal in the long run of things.

“We’re friends so me and Isa will get her back, from wherever you hid her.” Braig stared at Lea. Lea stared back determine till he realized Braig wasn’t going to respond and he shifted nervously. Blinking slowly Braig shook his head to try to focus and grimaced at the other two guards who were watching him concerned. 

“Yeah kid. Whatever you say.”

The rest of the tour was pretty routine and Lea even being a dumb kid seemed to get the gist of it. They met up with the other apprentices for lunch and Isa was immediately glued to Lea’s side and trying to act subtle about how he looked at Lea. Ienzo made a disgusted gagging face at Braig when he noticed and he cackled because yeah the kid had a point. Even seemed to have gotten over the babysitting issue because apparently besides breaking and entering Isa was pretty much a perfect student.  

It’s weird because this has happened but not happened once already. There’s no Xehanort, and Ansem is still here. The heart experiments are still just theoretical for the most part and Radiant Garden is still a beacon of light. He keeps expecting to find Terra with the Old coots heart unconscious on patrols. He keeps waiting to feel Luxu taking control periodically till he can’t get control back and Braig is just a silent observer in his own body. He keeps waiting for the other apprentices to call him a traitor, to accuse him of crimes he didn’t, did, hasn’t, will, won’t commit. When he looks at the other’s he sometimes see’s an Ansem cloaked in red and full of hate, a closed of Even with no regards to lives, a Dilan who feels nothing but rage, a Aeleus silent and intent on destruction, a Ienzo with dark bags under his eyes and no trust for any of them anymore. He expects to see a scarred Isa, and a tear tattooed Lea. He expects to wake up and see nothing but darkness. Braig feels panic rising in his chest and he tenses in anticipation of the suffocating feeling and anxiety but then...it stops.

His heart,mind, whatever it is settles and untangles and he’s just in Radiant Garden. It takes him a minute to realize what happened and his hand absently wander’s to his chest as if he can physically touch the other presence.

‘it will be okay. we will not let it happen.’ He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and tries to convey the feeling of gratitude silently. It must get across because he feels warmth in response and then he assumes the heart has gone back to sleeping.  The other apprentices haven’t noticed thankfully that he was having a moment, and honestly these days he was always having a moment. 

After lunch and the rest of patrol and giving Lea a hard time just for the hell of it Braig excuses himself to turn in early. Dilan reminds him he promised to check in with Even about his head and Braig points out he didn’t ‘promise’ jack. He did agree he would see about pain med’s in the morning. So he makes to retreat to his room and is a little startled to be joined by Master Ansem. 

At first they're just walking the same way and he thinks that maybe it’s just coincidence but then he realizes that Master Ansem is keeping the same pace intentionally and he fights back a sigh. This means they're going to have a talk. He isn’t sure about what though as he definitely hasn’t blown up anything recently and they already established he’s as recovered as he’s going to get. It certainly hasn’t been long enough for Dilan to tattle on him about his headache issue. Would take like a week of not doing anything usually for the other guard to get fed up and go to Ansem to deal with his bull. 

They make it to his room in silence and Braig looks at Master Ansem expectantly but he’s only being watched with a raised eyebrow. He feels like a child whose parent is waiting for them to admit to their wrong doing, and though it hasn’t even happened yet, and will not ever, he wants to admit everything he’s done or at least his body did. But at the risk of sounding crazy he bites back the urge to spill his guts, or heart for that matter. They just stand there watching each other for what for Braig feels like a small eternity. When nothing happens he slowly turns and goes to enter his room.

“Braig, if you were in danger of some kind, from something or someone, you would tell me?” Braig turns back around and blinks stupidly in a not reply.

“I mean yeah, if it didn’t put you in danger too. Of course I would.” He feels like that’s obvious. He’s been a guard so long part of his job was dealing with danger and reporting it. Sure his reports weren’t always timely but he always finished them eventually.

“If it doesn’t put…” Ansem frowns but nods slowly like he understands something and Braig is so confused by this conversation. He feels like he is missing something important here.

“I would hope that even if it was dangerous to me that you would still consider coming to me for help. Do you understand Braig?” Frowning he shrugs but nods regardless.

“I mean I guess...Kinda defeats the purpose of having guards if I’m putting you in danger don’t you think. But sure. I gotcha.” Ansem stares at him a while longer like he’s looking for something else but then he nods seriously and turns to leave.

“I bid you goodnight then. I apologize for keeping you up.” Braig watches him go and then shakes his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Yeah you too old man.”

[redstreakfox]

Before the night ends, I want to give the wishings of a Merry Christmas to the Mao Mao fandom and especially to @fanfics-and-theories-and-stuff whom I had the pleasure of being their secret santa in the gift exchange. I apologize if this is getting to you past when it would be considered Christmas wherever you live. I’ve never written a story with someone else’s OC before but I hope I captured her well for you and I hope you really enjoy what I wrote! Also a shout out to @maomaosmother for hosting another wonderful event!

Prompt: The sheriff trio and OC Kaiya enjoy Christmas carols around the fire while it snows outside

If there was one word Mao could think of to summarize his emotions that morning, it would be ‘nervous.’

And why wouldn’t it be? It’s not as if this was a turn of events he could have predicted.

It was several months back when Mao had gotten a phone call from his older sister Minori, a groaning sound coming from her end before Mao Mao had even had the chance to offer her a hello. Their father, Shin Mao, was a man who viewed any amount of complaining as a sign of weakness, an inability to take control over one’s problems, and so the Mao siblings more often than not had to rely on each other for any form of support in regard to their more negative emotions.

At first it was merely a routine exchange, another chance for Minori to vent her frustrations over the difficulties in trying to maintain both her hero duties and her responsibilities as the owner of a local eatery she had established in a larger kingdom she had recently settled in (business was good, her souffles were still known as her specialty.) This time, however, his sister seemed more tense than usual. She was barreling through a rant over an incorrect utility bill she had received when she also mentioned finding a hand written letter in the mail from a ‘Kaiya,’ and Mao would have thought nothing of it had his sister not immediately tried to walk back her mentioning of it.

Naturally, he asked about it, and unexpectedly his sister tried to lie in response. It only took him asking one more time before she caved and told him more. None of the Mao siblings were good liars, after all, another trait they could thank Shin Mao for.

What he wasn’t expecting to be told, however, was that Kaiya was a younger sister who had been all but scrubbed out from the official familial records. Minori was light on the details, knowing very little herself. An incident involving a different clan, a promise their mother made that even Shin Mao refused to speak of. It was a lot for Mao Mao to process, even with so much of the necessary information still missing.

That’s why, just a few weeks later, he both was and wasn’t surprised to find his own mysterious letter mixed in with his regular assortment of mail. It was just as Minori had recounted, a handwritten letter from someone named ‘Kaiya’ with the intent to introduce themselves. The wording of the letter seemed earnest enough, and even if a small part of Mao wondered if this was some sort of trick, the larger part still felt a sense of obligation to respond back, especially if it was someone claiming to be related to him.

And for a while that’s how things went. A series of correspondences only carried out in letter form; attempts to know each other and share stories about what growing up was like for the both of them. It was on a whim, after running the idea by both Badgerclops and Adorabat first, that he decided to invite her to a small holiday get together at Sheriff HQ. It was going to be Mao’s first Christmas spent in Pure Heart Valley, and what better way to keep a night of firsts going than finally meeting Kaiya face to face?

As it turned out, things had a way of lining up for the better. Kaiya noted that she would have been passing through Pure Heart around that time anyway (something about a yearly caroling trip she made with friends during the winter season) and so she would be able to stay over for the day before leaving later that night to go singing out in the kingdom.

It wasn’t long before that day finally arrived. The trio spent all morning decorating their living room and tree, chopping wood, preparing holiday treats, and it wasn’t until later that afternoon, once the doorbell rang and Kaiya had stepped across the threshold into their home for the first time, that Mao found a new description for his suddenly changing disposition: cautiously hopeful.

At first, things were noticeably awkward. Small talk that seemed to go nowhere, a tour of their headquarters where one of the smoke bombs Adorabat had been presenting got accidentally set off, and even a moment where Mao began choking on one of the prepared snacks. The incident was relatively small and only lasted for a moment, but it was simply another item to add to the list of ways in which Mao thought the visit was turning into a disaster.

It wasn’t until later, when Kaiya was perusing over a bookshelf, did things seem to finally settle into a better direction. It was a photo album she had found, or at least it was an attempted one.

The Mao clan had never been necessarily considered affectionate with one another. All of Mao’s childhood had been dedicated to training (well, self-training) and his sisters were often too busy with their father’s hero regimen to spend any quality time with each other. Even holidays were considered less of a break and more so a day where the workload just simply wasn’t as heavy. And all of that reflected in the book she had found, where pictures of the Mao clan together were few and far between.

Even still, to Kaiya, it was much more than she had previously seen of them, having been raised outside of the family. And even with his own hang ups, Mao found himself more than willing to indulge her in her questions. Some came easier than others, obviously. Mao Mao’s voice finding a slight sense of warmth when the discussion managed to linger on the sibling side of things rather than the parental, and for her own part Kaiya seemed less inclined to want to discuss her parentage as well.

It was during a sudden lull in the conversation when the two cats finally noticed that they had lost track of time. The descending sun had given away fully to the darkness of night long ago while Badgerclops and Adorabat, who at first had been quietly listening to Mao discuss his family, had slipped away to play with the new toys the blue bat had received that morning.

Kaiya then began to move about at a tempered pace, she had plans to meet her caroling group in the kingdom’s central plaza and she was now behind schedule, but there was a part of her that hesitated at the idea of ending her visit so abruptly. Mao assured her that he understood, assuring her that there would be more chances to see each other in the future. Kaiya slipped on her coat over her long, light blue skirt and leggings and began walking with her brother to the door when they discovered that the weather had decided on other plans that evening.

A sudden chilling gale blew past the pair, and even with the door open just a crack a small pile of snow had managed to slide into Mao’s home from outside. It was a snowstorm, and any chance of leaving had now dropped down to near zero. With a growl, Mao called out to Badgerclops that it had been his job to periodically check up on the weather while the badger argued back that it was the cat’s job to make sure his sister was able to make her obligations on time. It wasn’t until Adorabat added her own voice into the mix, yelling about their yelling, that things went from bad to worse.

In an instant, as if the world itself had closed its eyes, their surroundings were suddenly cast into pitch darkness. There was no mistaking it, a power outage thanks to the raging storm.

There was confusion to begin with, Adorabat seeking out Mao Mao in the darkness while Badgerclops tried his best not to accidentally trip over anything. The black cat was about to call out to them and take charge when another voice cut through the darkness instead. Kaiya called out and asked Badgerclops if his arm could be used as a flashlight, the mustelid giving a sheepish chuckle in response as he joked about why he hadn’t already thought about doing that.

Once he produced a source of light, Kaiya began to divvy out tasks: Adorabat was to collect some of the leftover snacks and Mao Mao was to gather some of the wood that had been chopped that morning, all while Badgerclops used his light to help guide them. She gave them all a time limit of ten minutes before they were to reconvene in front of the fireplace. It was during his time finding the wood that Mao Mao couldn’t help but smile to himself about the situation; taking charge of the situation just as he was about to, maybe they were more alike as siblings than even he anticipated.

The sheriff trio arrived back at the empty fireplace before the ten minutes, the badger and cat already taking the initiative to place a few logs in hearth and to get a flame started in order to alleviate some of the ever creeping cold. It wasn’t until the very end of the allotted time that Kaiya made her way over to the roaring fire and joined them, pulling out from behind her an old broadcast radio she said she had noticed in the office room during the tour.

After tinkering around with the device for a moment they found that it already had batteries inside, most likely left in there by one of the previous sheriffs to whom it had belonged to. It took even longer to find a signal that was anything more than loud static, but once they found a channel that worked it brought a smile to each of their faces. Christmas music, carols, holiday tunes with sweet, merry voices that seemed to mix with the warmth of the fire and make it glow that much brighter and drown out the roaring of the snow outside.

They spent the rest of the night like this. Letting the yuletide songs carry their conversation as they happily shared the food Adorabat had brought, blankets cozily wrapped around them as every now and then they raised their own voices in song if they knew the words.

It was a couple of hours later when the last of them finally fell asleep nestled near the coaxing warmth of the fire. It was another hour still before the radio finally died, the only song left playing then being the soft crackle of the burning wood before them and the whispers of fresh snow falling just out beyond the window.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

How would Canada, Prussia, and Romano handle every country but theirs dying? And the micronations. Asking since I'm writing a fanfic, and it's set in the future with time shenanigans. [And yes, america dies, italy, Russia, Germany, everyone but those three and the micronations since they're so small]

Hello, lovely!

This ask took me a bit to warm up to; Hetalia is my happy-go-lucky escapist fandom, but the more I thought about this, the more my own curiosity was piqued.

I took the liberty of assuming this was sort of a “sudden death” scenario, and that the lads find out the Others are missing at relatively the same times. I also tried to be optimistic, and I apologize if some of it is unrealistic.

Hope this is sufficient, and perhaps inspires you in your future writing ventures!

*

Lovi and Gil knew immediately that their brothers were gone. 

Lovino felt the hegemony fall to his shoulders as he was watching the sunrise, sitting on a dock with his feet under the water. He was immediate rage, cursing any name he could think of for the responsibilities now falling to him, for daring to take away someone so young. 

Gilbert, on the other hand, knew as he was brushing his teeth, bright pink bubbles swirling down the drain as he simply collapsed into himself, crumbling to the floor. “I was supposed to go first. Not you. Never you.”

Matthew was the first one to reorganize, take charge of the situation. With all major world powers gone, Canada was now the leader of what remained of the Free World, and he took his duty very seriously. Having been in Berlin already for a meeting, he hunted down the remainder of Germany, dragging the eerily quiet Gil along with him to find any others.

Mattie played the strong one, keeping a stiff upper lip throughout the first few weeks of the crisis. It’s not until he goes back to his house and sees one of America’s stray Converse and Mexico’s favourite hoodie that he completely breaks down.

The humans are in chaos, the global economy having crashed, and a large majority of them now gone. There is panic of an epidemic, of a possible apocalypse, with looting and strong alliances forming between any survivors.

It has been three weeks.

Gil remains stiff and silent, though he does consent to food, sleep, and bathing. Lovino hovers near him in case the idiot tries to do something foolhardy when he finally overcomes the shock.

Italy, what is left of Italy, ties with what remains of Germany for second in strength in this new world. Lovino keeps a stern face, greets each minute of regrowth with a solemnity that Feli and Toni would have teased him endlessly for. When Marcello bursts through the meeting doors one evening with news about refugees, he nearly loses his composure; Seborga looks more like Veneziano than Romano ever cared to admit.

The panic has mostly settled, and an eerie sense of calm and faux normalcy hangs in the air for humanity. There is no real normalcy- Most continue trying to determine if their loved ones are still alive, many don’t return to work, some carry on as if they had no interruptions.

After months of debate, Rome is once more declared the centre of the world, and Lovino and Marcello move permanently into their family home. Many of the micronations soon join them, adopting Ladonia’s preferred communication strategy of staying in touch digitally.

Lovino takes on his new responsibilities easily. He’s lost half his population before, led empires before, been at the centre of the universe before. So long as he keeps himself busy, he can ignore the missing sarcasm, ignore the missing “Fuck!” tossed around every five minutes. The big house is almost filled to capacity; it still feels too empty.

It has been two years, and Humanity is working together to connect everyone who remains to a proper global network. In times of distress, everyone comes together. 

Most migrate nearer to the micronations, seek out shelter in one of the three main remaining nations. But there are some who refuse to leave their homes, and efforts are made to ensure everyone has access to medicine, electricity, and clean water. 

There is more progress now, with no real economy to stop it.

Gilbert remains quiet, though he observes everything. He signs whatever forms need his attention, acknowledges any issues to be addressed. But he can’t help thinking that it should be Freidrich or Ludwig here, that they should both be here.

He misses his inside jokes with England, with Scotland. He misses raising hell with France and Spain and Denmark. He misses shit-talking with Japan, Belgium’s bounding energy, Seychelle’s fierce optimism. All gone, with the survivors trying to build a new world order out of the ashes.

Ten years, and Mattie officially moves in with Lovino. Castel Sant’Angelo has once more been renovated- now into a central home, with more than enough space for every representative to keep their own room. Mattie just shrugs when Lovi raises a brow at his luggage. “It was too quiet, and someone has to keep you in line.”

It has been twenty years; Gil still has yet to speak.

Several attempts have been made to create some form of economy. Each was shot down.

Humanity, now interconnected more than ever, has resumed interest in teleportation and space travel.

Twenty-five years, and everyone now understands at least three languages.

Thirty years, and Mattie sometimes swears he can see Ukraine keeping watch over the garden.

Thirty-five years, and Lovino and Marcello are thick as thieves. Seborga is finally as deadly a shot as Romano, and Lovi has started to embrace his more childish ways at his brother’s encouragement.

Forty years, and two of the Big Three are arguing over which Grecian deity most closely fits them. Lovino insists there is no way he could be Zeus, just as there’s no way in hell Mattie could ever qualify as Poseidon. The debate could have raged for hours, but a dark scowl from the unanimously voted Hades left them both feeling too sheepish to continue.

On the forty-fifth anniversary, Lovino snuck off to the north, taking a boat to explore what still remained of Venezia.

Fifty years later, and the first person to Mars smiled for the camera. In a dialect birthed after the Great Disappearance, she sent love to her family, and made a small speech about progress and adventure and all the hopes for the future.

Millions of miles away, from a small kitchen in the Black Forest, a grainy television delivers the message to a soul older than comprehension. The words sank in, the phantom of a firm hand resting on his shoulder. “We will continue to rebuild, and we will grow stronger.”

For the first time in decades, Prussia smiled.

Fifty-seven years, and no one questioned why Matthew is completely smashed during the first two weeks of July.

Sixty-three years, and Mattie was trying to dig Prussia, Sealand, Wy, and Hong Kong out of a mud pit, cursing up a storm as the four continue to throw more earth at their rescuer’s head.

After eighty-six years, Gil has stopped wearing black. He came to breakfast with a vintage white t-shirt that read “Spread Pages, Not Legs (the ace agenda)” across the front, and Mattie nearly choked on his orange juice before he finished reading.

One century later, and no humans are left alive that can remember the Great Disappearance, the only recounts in history books. The world has rebuilt, and the people have learned to move on.

The micronations have grown into their power, now hosting monthly meetings to discuss policy, agenda, progress, shipping- All the things that society needs to function.

Missing from today’s meeting are the three eldest nations, who had left early in the morning without a word. No one is sure where to find them, where they could be. They’re not gone though, so there is relief.

It is 5 am local time. The sun will be rising soon.

Matthew murmurs a chant, golden glow slipping past his lips and circling around the small trio. Lovino harmonizes with his own sounds, some deep, dark, and inexplicably ancient rasping coating each syllable, cold air tying itself to the dancing lights. Gilbert watches on for a moment, holding in his hand a pile of letters and Alisdair’s old lighter, waiting. The moment comes, and he sets the papers ablaze.

The winds of Lovi’s spellwork and the control in Mattie’s ensures not a speck of ash will hit the ground, and all three watch as their words fly up, disappearing in seemingly midair.

They wait until they are satisfied, then begin the hike back to their car, parked on the old A303, Mattie nearly tripping as Gil rushes past him, desperately trying to beat Lovi in their impromptu race. The Canadian snickers quietly as both of them fall in the process, underestimating the steepness of the hill. Taking the initiative, he rushes past them, outright cackling at the outraged squawks of protest behind him.

None of them see the hazy figure sitting atop the bluestone, smiling softly before fading away.

The world is finally at peace.

*

And one addition, in case anyone was curious:

[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading. I really appreciate it. 

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support.

Bit of a longer chapter here, and some family fluff time up at Lallybroch. hope you enjoy

Chapter 24: A Fanciful Hallowe’en

‘Excuse me,’ said Granny, empowering the words with much the same undertones as are carried by words like ‘Charge!’ and ‘Kill!’, ‘Excuse me, but does this pointy hat I’m wearing mean anything to you?’ - Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Brian Fraser had always been keen on traditions. Not just maintaining those established by his ancestors but also in creating his own. Which was why, when Jenny and Jamie were very small, Brian and Ellen launched the annual Samhain festivities for the Broch Tuarach Distillery employees and their families. Over the years it had grown into an amalgamation of traditional Hallowe’en, with children’s scary costumes, carved pumpkins and plenty of sweet treats, and Bonfire night, with sausages and baked potatoes, treacle toffee and a grand firework display. As the distillery grew, so did the party. It was still held at Lallybroch, but had outgrown the house and now required a marquee and a couple of portaloos.

Brian always insisted that his family attend this event. Originally hosted by Ellen and Brian, Jenny and Jamie, always suitably costumed, now assisted in the duty. Murtagh lurked on the periphery, choosing a less visible role - changing the beer barrels, replenishing the platters of food and deep bowls of sweets, and providing mugs of coffee and glasses of water to those who had overindulged.

Jamie had driven up to Lallybroch the day before the party on his own. Claire was still at the hospital when he set off, unable to change her rota, but was planning on getting the train to Inverness the next day, where Jamie would meet her.

Jenny was already in the kitchen when Jamie arrived. Maggie was contentedly asleep in her arms as Jenny adjusted the buttons on her shirt. Jamie took Maggie from her and settled himself in the old rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Och, they’re all admiring Wee Jamie’s costume.” Jenny yawned and stretched. “Spider-Man, of course. Have ye got yers sorted? Does Claire ken she’s expected tae dress up too?”

“Aye.” Jamie nodded as Maggie roused slightly and grabbed his finger, pulling it to her mouth. “Clean hands, by the way.”

Jenny gazed at her brother who, having reclaimed his finger, was now busy blowing soft raspberries against his niece’s cheeks. “That suits ye, bràthair. Seein’ ye fussin’ over a wee bairn. I still canna say I’m thrilled about Geneva, but I’m lookin’ forward tae times here wi’ yer wee lad. What’s the latest, anyway? How’s Madam doin’?”

Before Jamie could answer, the sound of footsteps along the stone corridor heralded the arrival of Wee Jamie, closely followed by Ian and Brian. Wee Jamie rushed to greet his uncle, only hesitating slightly when he noticed Maggie in Jamie’s arms. Jamie shuffled Maggie to one side, allowing his nephew to clamber onto his other knee.

“Unca,” Wee Jamie cried happily, his fingers rubbing back and forth against the bristles on Jamie’s jawline. “‘S party tomorrow. What’s ye wearin’? Mine is secret. I’m gonna have sweeties and pop and play games and stay up till verra, verra late. Aren’t I, Mam?”

“Aye, weel, only if ye go tae bed nicely tonight. Come on now, say goodnight tae everyone. I’ll take ye and Maggie up the wooden hills tae Bedfordshire.”

With great dramatic rolling of eyes and dragging of feet, Wee Jamie reluctantly allowed his mother to lead him to bed, all the while moaning to himself. “I’m no’ tired… and I’m a big boy… I dinna go tae bed when a baby does.”

The sounds of the little lad complaining about his bedtime faded away as Brian fetched the whisky and glasses and placed them on the kitchen table.

******

Jamie, Ian, Brian and Murtagh sat round the table, each with a glass in hand listening to the battle coming through the baby monitor. Jamie looked over at Ian.

“D’ye think one of us should go and give Jenny a hand?” he asked, concerned, as a spirited ‘nooo’ sounded round the room.

“Och no,” Ian took a sip of his whisky. “Jenny has it all in hand. Jes’ wait, here it comes.”

Jenny’s stern voice came through the baby monitor, raised to speak over the whining of her son. “James Ian Brian Murray, if ye dinna settle down this instant, there will be no sweeties, no pop, no party and absolutely no Spider-Man for ye, do ye understand?”

Immediately the monitor grew quiet, then Jenny continued. “And as I ken yer da, grandda, uncle and Murtagh are all listening in, there’d better be a wee nip down there waiting fer me. Now goodnight, Jamie lad. See ye tomorrow.”

******

As requested, a whisky was waiting on the table for Jenny’s arrival. She settled herself, took a large sip, then addressed her brother, picking up the conversation from an hour before.

“So, Jamie, ye were about tae tell me how it goes wi’ Geneva?”

“Ah, the pregnancy is goin’ fine, seems tae be. Geneva herself, that’s another matter.”

Jenny and Murtagh made snorting sounds in unison. Brian moved his chair closer to his son and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

“And yes, Janet Ellen Murray née Fraser, ye dinna have tae remind me of what ye said. I ken.” Jamie managed to raise a smile, contemplating the recent antics of the Dunsany family. “I had a wee chat with Geneva after Angus’ weddin’. Made it clear…”

“Agin!” Jenny muttered under her breath.

“Alright, Jenny, agin, aye, that we willna be together. I’m still no’ sure how much went intae her head though. Seems she wanted us tae have a gender reveal party together.”

A look of scorn came over Murtagh’s face. “A what? Gender reveal? Party? Why in God’s name would ye do that? It’s a boy, ye’ve already ‘revealed’ it tae us.”

“Weel, I’m no’ doin’ it, no couple-type things. But I don’t think she’s given up jes’ yet. And then, last week, I had a visitor.”

“No’ Geneva, fer a booty call?” Ian suggested.

“Nah, no’ Geneva… her mother, Louisa, standing on the doorstep, ringing the bell like the divil himself was after her. She jes’ popped by tae remind me of my responsibilities tae her daughter… and tae tell me tae give Claire up and be wi’ Geneva.”

Even across the table, Jamie could hear Jenny breathing heavily, trying to control her temper. “I kent it. They’re like two peas in a pod, her and her blasted mother. Jamie, what ye ever saw in that woman in the first place is beyond me. And now look at this mess!”

Brian quickly interrupted his daughter. “No, Jenny. Enough! Jamie doesna need that. He’s doin’ his best and we support him no matter what his decision. If he decides tae be with Geneva, then we will make the best o’ it.”

“Like hell we will!” Murtagh banged his empty glass on the table and poured himself a large refill. “I tell ye, lad, Claire is a rare lass, ye dinna want tae let her go. And if yon stuck-up madam joins this family, I will be looking fer alternative accommodation whenever she’s at Lallybroch. I canna be dealin’ wi’ her pretensions and vanity and selfishness. She shouldna be a Fraser.”

“Can everybody let me finish?” Jamie wanted to draw this conversation to a close and quickly. “I will say this once, and then the subject is closed. I’m having a son. I’m no’ havin’ a relationship wi’ his mother, nor do I ever intend tae. I intend ma future tae be with Claire, no matter what. So ye can all breathe again and let’s talk about the party tomorrow.”

***********

Claire relaxed in her train seat, by the window and with a table as requested. By placing a bag on the seat next to her, she hoped to deter anyone from sitting there. Three hours to herself to read, snooze or daydream didn’t happen very often and she wanted to make the most of it without interruption.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the 12:09 pulled out of the station with no one claiming the seat. Three hours and then Jamie would meet her at Inverness station and take her to Lallybroch.

The rhythmic sway of the carriage was very soothing. Claire didn’t bother with her book or magazine, she just rested her head and gazed out of the window as the scenery changed with every passing mile.

The party that night was an important event for the Frasers and Murrays. Claire was excited for several reasons. This would be the first Fraser family function she had been invited to and she relished that feeling of inclusion, of being part of something, of belonging.

Then there were the fireworks. Ever since Claire was a little girl, she loved watching fireworks. It had been an annual treat for Uncle Lamb to take her to the local display, where she would try to write her name in the air with a sparkler and would inevitably develop a sore neck from staring up into the sky, keen to enjoy every last flash of colour. There had never been any fireworks while she was with Frank, either literally or metaphorically.

The last reason was her costume. Jamie had stressed the importance of the costume. He had given her no clue about his, so Claire had been unsure what to do. Could she cut two holes in a white bed sheet and be a ghost, or was a more ‘polished’ outfit required?

Even Geillis, when asked, had been of no use. All her suggestions had a common theme: slutty nurse, slutty zombie, slutty witch. Eventually Claire decided to trust her own instinct and a bit of Google. And at last she had come up with a costume which she thought would do very nicely.

******

The sun was setting by the time Jamie and Claire were pulling into the driveway at Lallybroch. Lights had been set up along the path to the marquee and the whole area was a hive of activity with caterers, pyrotechnicians and entertainers rushing to and fro.

Claire gasped in amazement. “I didn’t realise it was such a big deal…“

Jamie smiled. “Aye. This was my mam’s thing, ye ken. She always loved this party, she loved the autumn afore the weather turned too cold, but still cool enough tae light the fires. And how she loved the fireworks. So Da does this every year for Mam.”

Jamie sniffed and cleared his throat. “Anyway, let's get inside. Ye must be cold. Everyone’s started getting ready. We never tell each other what our costumes are, it’s part of the fun.”

******

Claire examined her reflection in the mirror in Jamie’s room, Jamie having been banished to a guest bedroom. She knew she had spent too much money on a fancy dress costume, but viewing it now from all angles, it was money well spent.

Not knowing how close to stick to the scary Hallowe’en theme, the decision was made when she found the dress. Black and knee length with a floaty handkerchief hem, it had a tight laced bodice with shoulder straps, underneath which were off-the-shoulder, long, gauzy sleeves, worn with black stockings, black kitten-heeled ankle boots, and black lace fingerless gloves. Claire left her curls loose around her face and added the finishing touch- a witch’s pointed hat.

A face peeped round the door. A face with round glasses and a lightning scar drawn on his forehead. “Can I come in now?”

Claire laughed as Jamie opened the door fully. Clad in school trousers, white shirt and school tie, he also sported a Gryffindor scarf and black wizard robes. “That’s brilliant. A six foot three Harry Potter.”

Jamie walked over to Claire and put his arms around her. “And ye, Sassenach, are the bonniest witch I’ve ever seen.”

His hand moved across her bodice, his fingers softly grazing the tops of her breasts, just visible above the dress. “That dress is verra becoming.”

Claire ran her hands through his curls, pulling his head down to her.

“Well, hopefully we’ll both be coming later.” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

Jamie grinned. “Was that a wee witchy joke there, Sassenach? I shall be looking forward tae it, especially as I believe ye are wearing yer stockings agin. Am I right? Ah, tae see the white of yer luscious thighs against the black, ‘tis verra verra exciting…”

Clutching her bottom, he pulled her close.

“Jamie,” Claire giggled. “I think I’ve found your wand.”

******

The family gathered in the morning room, before joining the party. Claire could tell how seriously they took this evening. Wee Jamie was clearly Spider-Man and his sister, in her father's arms, was a cute little pumpkin. Claire instantly recognised Jenny and Ian as Sandy and Danny from Grease. Brian, in faded beige trousers, shirt and battered leather jacket was Indiana Jones with fedora in one hand and coiled whip in the other. Claire was relieved that she had made an effort with her dress.

“Claire, that dress is gorgeous. You make an amazing witch.” Jenny was full of praise.

“Thanks, you all look incredible too. But…” she spoke softly to Jenny, subtly looking over at Murtagh, who had just come in wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Ah weel, ‘tis a bit of a joke now after sae many years. Murtagh doesna like tae dress up and Mam always told him that he had tae. So every year since Jamie and I were bairns he puts the same thing on. He’ll add a checked shirt, wool hat and his walking boots and be a lumberjack, he willna change. It’s jes’ a tradition, ye ken.”

“Mam, can we go now, pease?” Wee Jamie excitedly grabbed his mother’s hand. “I wanna go now.”

He turned to Claire. “Care bear… ye no’ a scary witch. Ye too pretty tae be scary.”

“Thank you, Jamie. And you’re a very handsome Spider-Man.” Claire looked up to see her Jamie staring intently at her. His gaze burned white hot into her very core. Everything around her disappeared, all that existed in that moment was Jamie. Swiftly he came to her side, their eyes locked together...

“Care bear… come wi’ me now.”

She felt a tug on her arm.

“C’mon… and ye too Unca. We’re goin’ tae the party.”

Laughing, they both looked down at Wee Jamie, excitedly pulling them out of the room.

******

The marquee was magical, Claire decided. There was no other word for it. Delicate wisps of cobwebs blew gently in the breeze, suspended from the ceiling next to hordes of friendly spiders. Cauldrons bubbled with coloured lights and smoke from dry ice. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the tables and fairy lights were strung around the walls.

Jamie stayed by Claire’s side, introducing her proudly to all the guests, only moving aside when his nephew dragged her onto the dance floor during the children’s disco. He watched as Claire, grinning broadly, tried to teach Wee Jamie to dance gangnam style. Murtagh, now clad in his full lumberjack costume, wandered over to stand beside him. He patted Jamie on the back and gave a thumbs up.

Nodding his head towards Claire, he spoke quietly in Jamie’s ear. “She's a fine lass, that one. Dinna let her go. This stramash wi’ the other will sort itself out. Make sure Claire kens that. She’ll be a fine addition tae our family.”

As the song ended, Wee Jamie ran back to Jenny and Claire made her way to Jamie, Murtagh having conveniently vanished. She fanned her face with her hands. Jamie could see tiny beads of sweat along her upper lip. He longed to taste them.

“I’m so hot. Can we get a bit of fresh air?”

“Aye, weel, it’ll soon be time fer fireworks, we need tae find a place tae view them. Wait here.”

Jamie rushed out of the marquee, but returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a small hold-all. “Come wi’ me.”

“Really, Mr. Fraser, leaving your guests, and…” Claire gestured to the bag. “It’s almost as if you had this planned.”

Together they left the party and moved deeper into the garden, Jamie leading the way, following an old familiar route, until they reached a secluded corner of the garden, on a slight slope. Unzipping the hold-all, Jamie pulled out some thick woolen blankets. He quickly unfolded one and set it on the ground before sitting down and pulling Claire down next to him. Unfolding another blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Lie back, ‘tis the best place tae see the fireworks.” Jamie encouraged.

Claire laughed, but obliged. “Really, what a line… want to see some fireworks, come and lie down next to me. And how many girls have you brought here to ‘watch the fireworks’?”

Jamie could see her fingers making air quote movements. He leaned over and lightly kissed her lips, running his tongue along her upper lip. She tasted of spiced apples and whisky with the hint of salt lingering on her skin.

“No other lass here, ever. Ye are the first, Sassenach.”

Claire placed her hands under her head and stared up at the night sky. “You know I love fireworks, right? I told you that. It was an annual outing, me and Uncle Lamb, every bonfire night. But I’ve not told you why. It wasn’t just the excitement and the colours of the fireworks…”

They could hear everyone leaving the marquee now, ready for the fireworks to begin.

Claire continued. “When a firework goes off and you see it shooting high into the sky, I used to imagine that was a message to my parents from me. Then there’s a moment of dark before the burst of colours and sparks and light. And that was the message back from mum and dad, the huge explosion in the sky was them saying ‘we love you.’ Pretty fanciful, huh?”

“No’ fanciful at all, Sorcha. Jes’ a wee girl tryin’ tae find some comfort.”

Jamie could feel Claire’s heartbeat quicken as the first rocket blazed into the sky, trailing silver and gold before shattering into a shower of sparks. Appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ came from the audience below.

Claire shifted and adjusted the blanket to cover both of them. Her hand found his and clasped it tightly. Jamie brought hers to his lips.

“Claire, I want ye tae know that I love ye and I see ma future as yer future, weel, as our future together. I dinna want tae ever be wi’ out ye…”

Claire brought her fingertips to his lips. “I love you too, I never want to be without you either. I will be there for you with the baby and dealings with… well… you know. But, how can I put this? I think we have to be careful for the next few months. Do you know what I mean? Otherwise someone could cause problems.”

“Aye, I ken ye’re right. As long as we ken we’re goin’ tae be together, anything else can wait.”

Jamie brought his hand to the hem of Claire’s dress and rolled it up towards her hips. He could hear her breath become ragged as he found the soft skin just above her stocking and gently stroked it. His hand moved higher, pushing aside her lace knickers, his fingers fluttering at her very core before settling into a stronger rhythm. Claire closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over her as the fireworks reached their own crescendo, lighting up the sky.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ CONSPIRACY ❜

♖. }

       ❝ If history is anything to go by I predict you will all be severely disappointed... Were something SUBSTANTIAL to have happened to either of them we would have heard by now, ❞ Councillor Merga drawled, taking another puff of his third cygar, flicking the ashy end into the collecting bowl. ❝ It is most likely the result of the virus that has been going around, and since she is BONDED with the Prime they rushed to Emergency to assure it would not affect him... ❞ he finished, expelling the bitter smoke from raspy vents.

❝ But, Merga, you weren’t there with her --- you didn’t see her. She looked like the Pit, worse than I’ve seen anyone afflicted with any virus, ❞ the younger mech continued, fidgeting with his stylus, ❝ If someone would’ve said she was dying I’d have believed them... ❞ he shivered, quickly taking a gulp of lukewarm mid-grade, trying to clear his processors of the sickly image.

❝ I do not think we would be lucky enough for that... ❞ a slightly older femme whispered to the same-aged Councillor beside her, who chuckled lowly with a knowing gaze. While their bets remained on a sudden spark-attack they knew better than to get their hopes up, Elita and Optimus remained unfortunately healthy mecha; plus hard to kill, they had survived the war after all...

Neon optics rolled at his colleague’s commentary, and Merga continued reading through his data pad with a dull even BORED expression. Everyone at the Towers had become mindlessly obsessed with the First Chair and Prime ever since Elita’s sickness a few hours ago. While their meeting had the intention of discussing the latest international trade proposal, it had been placed on hold --- along with the entire PLANET for that matter --- Cybertron came to a complete stop ever since news broke. And he couldn’t escape the madness despite his best efforts.

❝ Sh, sh, sh, quiet it’s back on !! ❞ an older mech cut in, waving the end of his cygar to Starburst at the opposite end of the table, ❝ Hey, Sweetspark, turn the volume up a bit will you? ❞

The red femme begrudgingly complied with a scowl, dragging a digit tip over the control screen just as the broadcast credits came to view. It took every ounce of strength NOT to leap across the table and defend Elita, but doing so would only make things worse --- her duty was simply to take notes for Elita if the meeting ever did occur. At least Merga remained civil, oddly enough, dutifully working on the trade proposal like they were suppose to be doing... at least, that’s what she assumed. Whatever it was he was reading and writing he seemed more invested in than the newscast.

[ Anchor ] >> For those of you just joining us here is the developing situation: Just before mid-day today Councillor Elita-1 fell violently and suddenly ill while in the Council Towers, and was promptly admitted to the clinic alongside Optimus Prime via Emergency Ground Bridge. <<

❝ Yeah, yeah, get to the good stuff. Is she offline or--- ❞

❝ SSSSHHHHHHH--- !! ❞

[ Anchor ] >> ... We have yet to receive any word on the Councillor and Prime’s condition, but sources close to the case report they have been moved to a private wing, specializing in spark health and safety, with Doctor Atria and her team. Again, if you are just joining us, we cannot confirm any diagnosis nor the Councillor and Prime’s condition, and have yet to receive confirmation on any current speculation. <<

Resounding ‘Awws’ filled the large meeting room as the frustration seeped from nearly every EM Field and filled the air like a thick fog. Starburst shifted in her seat, sharing a brief glance with Councillor Merga before peeling her gaze back to the screen. Hopefully, the silence on Optimus and Elita’s end of things was a good sign, but even then she didn’t know for sure. They had a healthy sparkling last time as well, but upon emergence was when things took a turn for the worse...

[ Anchor ] >> In the meantime we have our panel of experts weighing in from across Cybertron. On behalf of all of us at the station we thank you all for joining us. To start, what would you say given the current situation? <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Thank you for having me. First off I would like to say that from a Medical standpoint, it really is rather obvious what could have caused this. If we look at this not as an isolated event but over a course of time it’s easy to piece together the puzzle. There have been multiple reports speculating the Councillor’s slow decline in health. Colleagues have gone on record stating she has been working less and less, public appearances have declined from minimum to non-existent, and both her and the Prime have been frequenting the clinic for months leading to this event. <<

[ Expert 2 ] >> Pardon the interjection, but to your point: it’s also no secret that the First Chair had health problems prior to this. On her public records she is listed to have a degenerative disease --- stemming from the T-Cog --- but in some cases have been reported to link back to the spark chamber. <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Yes, exactly. But also keep in mind, being bonded to Optimus, who currently acts as host for the Matrix of Leadership, there was a rather large concern that the relic’s energies could prove benign, and over time, cause adverse affects on the second half of the bond. Mixed with pre-existing health defects it is not impossible to believe that perhaps the spark, over time, has simply dwindled on its own accord. <<

Merga swivelled in his chair to glance up at the large screen. ❝ Primus... ❞ he sneered, turning incredulously to his colleagues, ❝ Of course, you all realize that is HERESY, do you not? ❞ Immediate shushes met the strange words of protest and the elder mech went back to smoking his cygar, reading over his newest messages with a prickling field. He had at least done his part and tried to speak against things...

[ Anchor ] >> By those measures then, would you all say the Matrix itself is rejecting the bond and in doing so, inflicting the sickness? <<

[ Expert 3 ] >> I certainly would, it’s the only logical explanation. No one knows the full breadth of the Matrix power, nor the intricacies, and certainly being sparkmates with another is an unprecedented occurrence One that has NEVER before happened in the history of the Primacy. But here is what we DO know about the Matrix from the teachings... <<

Merga had completely tuned out the broadcast by now, tilting his data pad closer to the navy and gold chassis to better read the new message from his contact at the clinic.

          CONTACT > [ Preparing to move from observation room to surgery. ]           CONTACT > [ Our team has everything blocked. Press can’t get through. No leaks. ]             MERGA   > [ Is it as we suspected? ]           CONTACT > [ Yes. Medical team wheeled in two protoforms. ]

Ridges narrowed as neon optics flicked across the screen, fighting the sudden SPIKE in his spark-pulse though he was sure the apparent shock spilled briefly into his field.

           MERGA   > [ Singular extraction? ]          CONTACT > [ No. Overhead Atria; twins. ]

Merga felt his own spark LURCH into his intake, and he choked on his cygar --- though hardly anyone else in the room noticed or offered to assist in the wheezing, shushing him to listen to the broadcast. Slowly regaining his composure he managed a reply.

          MERGA   > [ Are you certain? ]         CONTACT > [ Affirmative. ]

                                Of all the unfortunate news to hear...

Merga stifled another hoarse cough, grinding his denta behind a hardened jawline with a force that nearly threatened to unhinge the joints. TWINS. Not one but TWO spawns of the Prime now sat between him and the Primacy, likely by purpose --- an extra addition to make up for the number they lost with Saiph. He certainly had to hand it to Optimus and Elita, assuring a safety cushion to their legacy with kin. A clever political move, and even larger commitment.

He --- and his trusted circle for that matter --- had all been banking on the possibility Elita had been carrying, but never did they think such would come to fruition with DOUBLE their expectations. Finishing off his cygar he blunted the end in the glass collecting bowl, taking it upon himself to dismiss the meeting, not that it mattered.

Neon optics flashed up at red plating, finding Elita’s young Assistant frozen in place, worry and apprehension etched on smooth fascia. Merga let his mouth twitch into a crooked grin, tipping his helm to the side as her large sapphire optics met his. She would be of use to him later, so of course, he remained cordial. The less she suspected him the better ( though he highly doubted such. Working so closely with Elita likely tainted her view of him ). It was a pity, really... Starburst seemed to be so competent and intelligent, he would’ve rather loved to have offered her a job in the future when --- Ah, well, in time perhaps...

Once out of the room he tapped at his comm, a familiar frequency, one that was expecting word from him...

                    ¦ ¦  The usual. One hour. I have a story for you...  ¦ ¦

[takemeawaytocamelot]

Flustered Fraser - Teenage AU

Thanks @diversemediums for helping me beta this. We’ve got some really fun ideas for things in the future, so stay tuned! This is a direct follow up to Awkward Conversations.

Anonymous asked:  Can teenage Jamie hide his discomfort when meeting uncle Lamb

I pause outside Mam’s door, holding the letter from my headmistress in my sweaty hands.

“Mam?” I ask quietly.

“Jamie, love. Come in.”

I push the door open and walk slowly into my parents bedroom. I’ve only been inside this room a few times and it still felt ancient. But when I see Mam’s smilin’ face, I canna do anything but smile back.

“Come here my handsome lad. Lay your head, man, and tell me what’s a matter.”

Feeling verra much like a child, I crawl up onto the huge bed and lay beside Mam. She canna get out and do much these days. The last time the doctor came out and saw her, he called it a ‘high risk pregnancy’. I heard Da muttering one night that he didna need four bairns, three stubborn Fraser’s was more than enough. But Mam was happy, she loved children.

“How are ye feelin’, Mam?” I ask, staring at her huge belly.

“I’m verra well, love. Do ye want to feel your brother or sister?”

“It willna hurt ye?”

Mam’s lips pull into a pleased smile and she nodded.

“I should think at sixteen, lad, ye ken it willna hurt us to feel the biarn kick.”

“Aye, but Da says we shouldna jostle ye too much.”

Mam takes my hand and places it on her large belly. At first, I dinna feel anything. But then I feel a wee bubble, followed by rapid thumping.

“Christ!”

“James Fraser!”

I hang my head and mutter a repentant prayer.

“Ye ken I’ll always love ye, aye?”

I look up, hearing the tender, worried tone of her voice.

“Aye, Mam. Always.”

“Even wi’ this new bairn?”

I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to pull my hand back when the bairn kicks again.

“Mam, I’m no’ a child. I ken the bairn isna replacing me.”

Mam smiles and cups my face in her large, soft hand.

“Good. Now, what was it that brought ye up here? Did your da send ye?”

The moment of truth. Mam kens about Claire, kens how I feel about her, but I ken she’ll be disappointed in my behavior.

“I got a letter home today from Mrs. McCarthy. You and Da have to sign it.”

“Give it here, then.”

She holds out her hand and I give her the slightly rumpled letter. Mam reads through it carefully, her face giving nothing away. I dinna ken a bit what she’s thinkin’ and it’s driving me mad.

“So. You’ve been late several times this term to your lessons because you’ve been snogging Miss Beauchamp?”

“Aye.”

“And Da kens about this?”

I nod, afraid to meet her eyes. I dinna want to see the disappointment, dinna want to see her be sad because of what I had done.

“Look at me, Jamie.”

Slowly, I meet her gaze. Willie and I have her bright hair, but Da says I look more like Mam than Willie does. I dinna see it, but I ken my mam is beautiful.

“I’m sorry, Mam. I didna mean to disappoint ye.”

“What is it that I’m to be disappointed in?”

“That I took advantage of Claire. And that I missed classes to be wi’ her.”

Still her face betrays nothing. I must learn how she does it.

“Did she tell ye to stop?”

“Weel… No, she didna.”

“Have ye pushed her to something she didna want?”

I frown and think back.

“No. At least I dinna think so?”

“Then the only thing I’m no’ happy about is that ye missed classes. And that I’ve no’ met the lass yet. If ye mean to be serious wi’ her, I expect her to come for dinner wi’ the family.”

“Aye, that’s what Da said too. But… you’re no’ upset that I was snogging in the broom cupboard?”

Mam’s smile turns warm and she sighs.

“How could I be upset wi’ you o’er something your da and I have done? That doesna seem fair now, does it?”

Mam begins to laugh as my mouth drops open.

“You and Da… Ye snogged in the broom cupboard?!”

“Hush man!” she says, reaching out to poke my sides. “Dinna tell him I told ye or he’ll tan my hide!”

I laugh too, not at all bothered by her teasing. When we’ve both regained our breath, she signs the letter and hands it back.

“Jamie, love,” she says softly.

“Aye?”

“Be careful wi’ that big heart o’ yours. Ye take after your Da wi’ that. He loves big and wide and deep and wi’ his whole heart. So do you.”

I dinna understand what Mam is telling me. She must see it on my face.

“That means that ye need to be careful wi’ who ye let see your heart. For once ye gi’ it out, it doesna come back the same. So if this Claire that ye like to snog wi’ is important to ye, let her see it. Just be sure that you’re important to her as well.”

I carefully climb off the bed and pause in the door, looking down at my shoes. I need to clean them again before school.

“I ken she’s no’ the first lass I’ve kissed,” I say slowly before looking up into my mam’s eyes. “But she will be the last.”

As I head down to find Da to have him sign the letter, the phone in my pocket begins to buzz.

“Hello?”

“Jamie?”

My heart shudders to a stop and I look back at Mam’s open door. I hesitate before going back up where she can see and hear me.

“Claire,” I finally say. “I hope I didna get ye into too much trouble.”

Pause.

“Yes, well… I was a willing participant, if memory serves.”

She was nervous. The only time I’d heard Claire speak like a textbook was when she was verra nervous.

“Aye, but I still shouldna ha’ stolen ye away and made ye late. I’m sorry.”

“That’s… I mean I forgive you. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh?”

I hear her take a long breath and a voice I canna quite make out says something.

“I’m getting to that! Sorry, that was my uncle. Look… If you and I are going to be dating properly, Uncle Lamb wants-” she pauses as the voice says something else. “Fine. If you, Jamie Fraser, would like to continue to see me outside of school grounds, you’ll come to our flat for dinner on Monday. I mean, unless you’re grounded too.”

My stomach drops a bit. She’d been grounded?

“Let me ask my mam.” I mute the call and look at Mam, who’d pushed herself up in bed to watch me. “Claire’s uncle has asked that I go to their flat for dinner on Monday so I can be properly introduced.”

Mam nods.

“I’ll speak wi’ your Da in a bit and let ye ken what we decide. Have him come up and see me when he’s signed your letter, aye?”

Unmuting the call, I put it back to my ear and leave the laird’s room.

“I dinna ken yet. Mam wants to ask Da about it first. I’ll text ye when they decide, aye?”

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Aye. Claire, I… I am sorry I got ye in trouble. But I’ll no’ lie to ye and say I’m sorry for kissing you. I’m not. I dinna regret kissing ye a bit.”

The line is so silent I worry she’s hung up on me.

“I don’t regret it either,” she says hastily and hangs up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m pacing the front entry, waiting to see who would drive me to my destination. When my godfather opens the front door, I groan.

“Dinna pull that attitude wi’ me, lad,” Murtagh says gruffly. “I dinna want to be driving ye around like this either.”

“Why can’t Da take me?”

“Ye ken he’s taken yer mam to check on the bairn. Come on. Unless ye need to comb yer hair down. Again.”

I glare at him and resist the urge to make sure my hair is behaving. It’d been fine at school, I didna care if it decided to stick up or do something stupid. But now I was going to meet Claire’s uncle and I wanted to make a good impression.

Mam told me I should never accept a dinner invitation wi’out a gift for my host. So I picked some wildflowers from around Lallybroch for Claire and Da gave me a bottle of whisky for her uncle.

I climb into Murtagh’s battered old truck and smooth down the pleats of my kilt. The wool was a bit warm for this time of year, but I felt more comfortable in it than in my school uniform trousers. I dinna think Claire’s ever seen me in my kilt either, but that has nothing to do wi’ why I chose to wear it.

“So…” Murtagh says. “Meetin’ a lassie’s parents is a big deal. Though it’s just her Uncle, ye should treat it the same. He’ll pass the word along to her da and mam.”

I shake my head slowly.

“No. She’s an orphan. Her uncle is all she has.”

Murtagh’s face falls and he nods.

“Aye, I see. Weel then, act as though he’s her father. And for the love of God Almighty, dinna say a THING about ever having grabbed her arse.”

Immediately my ears begin to burn and I look out the window.

“I dinna ken what ye mean.”

“Aye, ye do. I dinna ken if ye’ve played wi’ her breasts at all. But if ye have, dinna mention that either.”

“Murtagh! Why are ye sayin’ all this?!”

He shrugs, following the directions of his GPS to Claire’s flat.

“It’s my duty as yer godfather to help ye out where I can. I dinna ha’ much advice to give all the time, but I ken that much.”

Mortified, I glare out the window for the rest of the drive.

Claire’s flat is on the second floor and Murtagh walks me up to the door. I knock, trying to control my breathing. Christ, why is this so terrifying? It isn’t Claire who answers, but her uncle.

“Ah. Claire’s Scot has arrived.”

“A-aye, sir.”

Lamb’s eyes move to Murtagh and narrow.

“Claire didn’t tell me we’d have an extra guest tonight.”

Murtagh smiles and offers a hand.

“I’m no’ stayin’. I’m Murtagh, Jamie’s godfather. I just wanted to be sure he made it to the right door and made it in safely. I just need to ken when to pick him up.”

“Ah. Quentin Lambert, pleasure to meet you. Does Jamie have a curfew to be back for?”

“Aye. He must be home by ten thirty.”

Claire’s uncle nods.

“We should be done long before then. He should be ready to run, lets say… Nine?”

Murtagh nods and leaves me there. I stand up to my full height and meet the other man’s eyes.

“So… You’re Claire’s Scottish brute, eh?”

I blink, unsure how to take ‘brute’.

“Uncle Lamb! Don’t be rude!” Claire says from somewhere behind her uncle.

“Good evening, Mr. Beauchamp. I thank ye for having me over for dinner tonight. I’ve brought some flowers for Miss Beauchamp, picked from my mam’s garden at Lallybroch. And my Da sent a bottle of whisky for ye, sir.”

Lamb takes the bottle from me and steps back, waving me into the flat. Her hair is pinned back out of her face, but the curl is let free. Unlike most of the girls in our year, she doesna wear any makeup and is all the more beautiful for it. Her whisky eyes go wide as she looks me over. Da was proud to see me in my full Fraser ensemble before I left, but it’s Claire’s reaction that makes it worth it.

“Jamie, you look…”

“For you, my lady,” I say, offering her a low, courtly bow and holding out the flowers I picked for her.

“Oh!” she says with delight. “Thank you, Jamie! They’re lovely! And you look amazing.”

She isna wearing anything so formal as I am - a blue top and black knee-length skirt - but she’s stunning. Beaming wi’ a bright smile, she disappears around a corner to put the flowers on display.

“While she’s gone for the moment,” Lamb says seriously. “I need to speak frankly with you.”

“Aye, sir.”

“What is your aim, here?”

“Tonight ye mean?”

He shakes his head.

“Claire’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a daughter, so I need to know what your intentions are. Are you dating her as a joke? On a dare? Just to see if you can get under her skirts?”

I take an involuntary step back, but he follows. I’d expected an interrogation in some form, but this was more than I was ready for.

“I… Ah, weel… Claire, um…”

“Quickly, boy. I haven't got all night.”

“It’s no’ a joke, sir. I wouldna do that to her. And I’ve no intention of getting under her skirts.”

Yet.

“Oh? Any particular reason?”

What?

“Neither of us is ready for that yet, sir. I like her verra much and would like to continue courting her.”

“So you’ll be dating properly?”

Lamb puts his hands on his hips, eyeing me with suspicion. 

“Aye, sir.”

“And no more sneaking about? Making her lie to me?”

I nod seriously at him.

“No more sneaking about, sir. And, if you’ll approve it, my family would like to have her over for dinner as well. My sister will be back from visiting our uncle in Paris and my brother will be home from uni.”

“We’ll see how tonight goes.”

Claire comes back, putting the flowers on the center of the small dining room table. We take our seats and Lamb serves us, telling a story of an archeological dig he’d been on. Beneath the table, Claire’s foot nudges mine and I smile, nudging her back.

“So, Jamie,” Lamb says, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh. “What does your father do?”

“He runs a whisky business. My uncle Jared sells wine in France, but Da prefers the whisky here. My mam likes to organize parties for people when she can, but she’s no’...” I stop, no’ wanting to share my mam’s health problems with a virtual stranger.

Claire’s elegant hand takes mine and she squeezes gently.

“How’s she doing?”

I smile at her a little, thankful for her kind touch.

“She’s tired of being in bed all the time, ken. But Da willna let her out. She kens she canna do much, but it’s hard.” I look up to see Lamb confused. “Mam’s pregnant, ken? And it’s worryin’ the doctors. High risk is what they’ve called it.”

Lamb nodded gravely.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she delivers a healthy child.”

“Thank ye.”

I glance down at my watch and sigh. Murtagh will be here soon.

“As for Claire going to have dinner with your family…” Lamb said. “I’ll allow her to go, but not for some time yet. She’s grounded, you know, but once that’s over, she can go. You’re welcome to come here one night a week until her time is finished.”

“Really? You’ll let him come over??”

Claire is practically jumping from her seat.

“Yes. As long as you both sit out here on the couch and do not disappear behind any closed door.”

“Aye, sir,” Jamie said. “I’ll have to check wi’ my parents, but I thank ye for the invitation.”

A heavy fist pounds on the door as I stand to help Claire with the dishes. Lamb goes to invite Murtagh in for a moment while I follow Claire to the sink.

“He likes you,” she says quietly. “That’s good.”

“Are ye grounded for long?”

She shrugs.

“Not sure yet. If I play my cards right, maybe only a week or two. But I’ll still see you at school.”

I smile at her and desperately want to kiss her.

“And you’ll still sit wi’ me at lunch?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“No,” I say, my heart thundering as I decide on what I’ll say next. “No, I wouldna mind to sit wi’ my girlfriend at lunch…”

As I’m looking at my boots, I see her own feet turn slowly until I ken she’s facing me.

“Girlfriend?”

“Aye. If ye want, I mean. If ye dinna want to be my girlfriend, that’s alright too. I willna be angry if ye-”

Suddenly her lips are on mine, her tongue hot inside my mouth.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp!” Lamb barks sharply.

Claire lets me go and smiles up at me, ignoring her uncle altogether.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “I’d like to be your girlfriend. But only if you’re my boyfriend as well.”

I take her hand and bow over it, kissing the back softly.

“I am completely under your power and happy to be there.”

Murtagh clears his throat and I thank Lamb for a delicious meal before following my godfather out.

[thirstyfortom]

Control Ch. 3

This chapter is lighter, no smut, nothing too dramatic, just Jumin and MC getting tense. I’ll be back a little later to post some slightly smutty scenarios. Hope you still enjoy this!

You turn your head to find Seven and a soft smirk. You scoff lightly.

“You know damn well what I’ve been up to, Seven.”

“Yeah… I just wanted to brag a little. Go on, tell everybody.”

“Tell what?” Jaehee asks, confused.

“I just started this internship at this publicity agency. Seven might have or might have not sent my résumé to them, since I don’t remember sending one myself.”

“You need to start eating food with omega 3 to stimulate your memory, MC, you’re too young to keep forgetting things.” He smiles teasingly, you just roll your eyes and smile, the first true smile of the day.

                                                   ***

“There’s something I’ve been wondering if you’d be willing to try.” He says, looking down, you swear he is even blushing a little.

“Go on, tell me.” You say, your hand grabs his in reassurance.

“Remember when you told me I should research things that can be of my interest in bed? I did a little one…”

“Okay. And?”

“Well, I’ve been interested in bondage, MC. Do you… do you know what bondage is?”

“I do, yeah… what about it?”

“I… right, just… know I don’t want to hurt you, MC. And it’s not about restraining you or… it’s just…”

“Having me under your control.”

He lets out a breathless chuckle. “Exactly. I… hope you don’t get me wrong on this, my love.”

“Jumin, honey… it’s fine. Don’t feel bad for taking interest in new things and wanting to try them. Stop repressing yourself, you did this for too long now…” now your both hands hold his. “So, uhm… what will you use to tie my wrists?”

This moment earned a new meaning to Jumin as months passed by. It used to be a sweet memory, the exact time when he knew that no matter what, he could be comfortable on his own skin when you were around, you made him feel comfortable, adequate, normal… happy for having someone who could understand him and support him.

Now, it’s a reminder of how stupid he was over you, it was a warning about who you really were, and he was so caught up under your spell he didn’t even notice. His lack of good sense hit exponential numbers when it concerned you, and maybe still does, since the first thing he did when you walked in that hall for that party was saying huskly “We need to talk”, dragging you to the closest empty room and… well, not talking at all.

But… what would he even talk about? He said it all that night you left, you probably said everything as well. You were scared of him, you lied and he couldn’t forgive you for lying. Neither of you could trust each other. Period.

So why is he still thinking about this? Why did his body claim yours so naturally in that room? Why watching you smile sweetly and laugh of Yoosung takes him back immediately back to that afternoon you showed up at his penthouse and introduced yourself as MC from the messenger?

“You missed this too, huh?” V comes behind him and rocks his shoulder playfully, waking him up from the trance. “RFA parties.” He explains, almost guessing Jumin was wondering if he was talking about something else.

“This isn’t a RFA party, it’s a C & R event.”

“Well, it’s a party, RFA is all here, so… no, but come to think of it, the guest list wasn’t in charge of the guest’s list coordinator, so yeah, it’s not a RFA party even though the whole RFA is here after a long time.”

“RFA and an intruder. Why did you invite her?”

“I told you. I wanted to call a meeting for RFA members. Last time I checked, MC is still a member.”

“Because Luciel didn’t delete her user from the server, even though she doesn’t log in for months.”

“Oh, so you noticed too?” he grins, and Jumin rolls his eyes. How couldn’t he notice, you were online in almost every chat before… all that.

“I don’t want her here, Jihyun. After everything she did, I…”

“Yes, but you see, you keep not telling me what she did that was so despicable, so… if I don’t know, I can’t judge, so she’s welcome here. And I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

Jumin watches as everybody in that table is laughing, even Jaehee, he rarely sees her smiling so genuinely, of course you are playing a role in this.

“Knowing you, you wouldn’t judge her even if I told you what she did.”

“Try me.”

“Nice try. I… I don’t even want to think of this again, so forget it.”

“I will. But then you can’t complain about having her here. Come on, let’s mingle.”

Jumin walks to that table as if his shoes are stuffed with iron, he’s almost dragging himself there, feeling completely inappropriate as your back is getting closer, the same back he had against his body some minutes ago… ugh… how can something so good at the moment make him feel so nauseous a little later?

“Finally! I was wondering if you guys left!” Zen greets them with a teasing tone.

“Of course not, we were just playing hosts, maybe you all should do the same. This is a RFA event, even though it doesn’t look like one.”

“We will, we will, after we catch up on MC’s life a little…” Yoosung shrugs and doesn’t even look at V. You chuckle, some things haven’t changed…

“I told you. There’s nothing much! I started at this internship. Yes, Seven, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He raises his Dr. Pepper can.

“And uhm… well, I’m working on my term paper, as I’m about to graduate and… that’s pretty much it.”

“Yeah, yeah… we heard about this already. What about your love life, MC?” Seven gags on his Dr. Pepper, Yoosung and Jaehee stop breathing. You knew this was coming, Zen wouldn’t waste an opportunity to make Jumin uncomfortable, he doesn’t even know what happened, but he definitely took your side, and he probably waited for this moment in a while, you can even imagine him rehearsing this exact line.

“I see you’re still smooth, Zen. If you want to ask me out, just do so.” Zen gasps a little, then he blushes and looks away. You smile in satisfaction, and though you cannot see him, you’re pretty sure Jumin is smirking a little too… not that you care, you just can’t let Zen use you to affect Jumin.

“I’m glad you’re catching up, but I think we should take this moment that everybody is together to discus about the elephant in the room.” V says bluntly.

“Yes, RFA’s future.” Jaehee states, taking a sip of her wine.

“What future? We haven’t even discussed hosting parties after MC… left.” Seven says while typing on his phone.

“And now she’s here, that makes me assume she’s willing to… go back to her duty.”

You knew this subject would be brought up eventually, but you didn’t really prepare yourself for a definitive answer, which is probably what V wants.

“I would want to put this for a voting.” Jumin says looking at his wine.

“Put what for a voting?” you turn your head like your worst enemy is ready to stab you on your back.

“Your permanence as RFA guest list’s coordinator.” His eyes meet yours, all you see is coldness.

“I see. Putting it for a vote implies you have grounds on why I shouldn’t stay.”

“I was about to get there. Yes, I do. My grounds are that you were absent from your duty for half a year, which makes you unqualified for this job.”

“I logged in to that chatroom almost every day. There was nothing about a party, so I decided to focus on college.”

“And on work?” he asks bluntly, but only you can sense the judgmental tone.

“Yes. You got a problem with that?”

“What you do with your life is none of my concerns, MC.”

“Thank you, so you do admit putting it for a vote is pathetic.” You turn your back on him. What is this taste rising in your mouth? Victory?

“I don’t think putting it for a vote is pathetic.” Seven says, his eyes finally look away from his phone. What the fuck? “I think it would be interesting, somehow.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Well, V wants her to stay, and though V is our so called leader, decisions concerning RFA’s future should be decided for all RFA members. But that’s just what I think.” And he goes back to his phone. Oh… so this is not about you, this is about V. Everything has been about V with Seven ever since your first RFA party.

“Couldn’t agree more, Luciel.” V says, Seven doesn’t answer.

“Well… I think we have a good fair of members who want this voting…” Jaehee says carefully, but when she says “great amount” you know she means “V”, sometimes you think she respects him more than her own boss. “I won’t oppose.”

“Fair enough. Let’s put it for a vote, then.Oh, and since I’m in trial here, apparently, I’ll abstain my voting.” You say, you didn’t want to come off so salty, but it’s impossible.

“I think MC should stay.”

“Me too.” Zen and Yoosung don’t even think, they just answer. Gogh, you missed Yoosung so much! And Zen… is obviously trying to make it up for trying to use you before. You know his intentions are always good, but if Jumin is in the way, he lacks a little bit of good sense… hum, funny, you could be easily describing yourself  right now.

“I’ll… abstain myself.” Jaehee says looking down, then she throws a quick glance to you. And, with that, you know you have her loyalty, but… she can’t really compromise herself with her boss like this. You glance back and smile at her in reassurance. No words need to be exchanged between you.

“I vote for her to leave, as I explained my reason before.”

“Reasons would imply that you’re being reasonable, Jumin. Which is not the case.” You mutter.

“I… also vote for MC to leave.” V says. What? Oh… you might have his assistant’s loyalty, but of course you wouldn’t have his best friend’s. And V probably knows all Jumin’s side on this. Ugh… that’s so stupid.

“Okay, so It’s a tie. Seven has the deciding vote.” Zen says, all the eyes in the table go straight to him.

Seven keeps typing without any expression in his face. At this point, you don’t even care what he decides, you have no clue on what he’s thinking! Even Jumin is easier to read for you.

Do you want to stay? Do you want to leave? Is it worth staying in a group where two people don’t consider you welcome? But is it right that you leave just because one of these people is your childish scared of conflicts ex-fiancée? You… honestly don’t know.

“Luciel… what’s your vote?” Jaehee asks impatiently.

“Hmmm… what do you think I should vote for, MC?”

Chapter 4 will be out next week!  

← Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 →

[mycrazystrangeworld]

I’m so excited to be involved in this huge, never-before-on-Earth-happened book blog tour!

When Dave first asked me if I thought it was possible or not (he asked many, and though most people loved the idea, of course there were a couple of non-believers, as always), I immediately became very jumpy! Enthusiasm is not beginning to describe what I felt… yeah, it was about to be a long shot. But it was so worth a try, and I’m so glad we’re doing it! And after all, so many people, so many bloggers have got on board! My heart is full, guys. This is such a great community we have here!

But enough about the tour… let’s talk about the book in question! After all, that is what this is all about.

About the Book

(Goodreads/Amazon/Books2Read)

They tell me the country looked different back then.

They talk of open borders and flowing rivers.

They say the world was green.

But drought swept across the globe and the United States of the past disappeared under a burning sky.

Enora Byrnes lives in the aftermath, a barren world where water has become the global currency. In a life dominated by duty to family and community, Enora is offered a role within an entity that controls everything from water credits to borders. But it becomes clear that not all is as it seems. From the wasted confines of her small town to the bowels of a hidden city, Enora will uncover buried secrets that hide an unthinkable reality.

As truth reveals the brutal face of what she has become, she must ask herself: how far will she go to retain her humanity?

About the Author

Kristin Ward has loved writing since middle school but took thirty years to do something serious about it. The result is her Best Indie Book Award-winning novel, After the Green Withered, followed by the sequel, Burden of Truth. She lives in a small town in Connecticut with her husband, three sons, and many furry and feathered friends. A SciFi geek to the core, she is fueled by dark chocolate and coffee and can be heard quoting eighties movies on a regular basis.

Twitter

Website

My Thoughts/Review

Discovery:

I have to admit that before this tour, I have never heard about this book. What a shame! I’m glad I discovered it, at least now.

Brainstorm:

Even the promise of this book was good, but I liked it even more than I expected!

What happened in this book was astonishing, but not in the over-the-top catastrophic plot after an apocalypse kind of way – what makes it terrifying is that it’s realistic.

It’s so realistic that I can actually see these things happening in the future. I mean, they could. And I don’t say that because I’m generally cynical about the people and our future, and our behavior (well, I AM, but I don’t SAY it BECAUSE OF that.). What happens in this book is… a very likely scenario. And that’s scary.

Okay, I won’t say more about the story, go read it and figure it out yourself! 😉 (if you haven’t already)

It’s one of those very rare times, when reading a book I got so into the story that I didn’t care I wasn’t that much into the characters. I’m a very character-driven reader, so it’s a huge statement. The characters were interesting, but they had way more potential than that was actually shown in the book. However, I think that it’s mostly because of what the world is like in the story. When people don’t trust each other, and in general entertainment is not an option at all, when everybody has their own specific, monotonous task in society, than you have very little chance to get to know them well. So, though I hope that in the sequel this will change a bit, I totally get why it is necessary. What’s more, it totally completes the world-building (which is very good, by the way)!

Let’s Give It a Grade!

Story: 5/5

Characters: 3/5

Style: 4/5

The Subjective Factor: 5/5

GPA: 4.25

Uniqueness:

I’d say the realistic world-building is the best thing about this book. It’s spot on!

Recommend to:

Fans of dystopias, especially if you like the ones that are not too complicated. Ones that you can actually believe to be the future.

Drink tip:

Water. Lots of, lots of water.

Music room:

‘Dreamer’ by Ozzy Osborne (Listen to it, even if you don’t like the kind of music Ozzy does. This one is…different. )

Future:

This is the second book in a short time that made me feel the immediate need for downloading the sequel, and wow, that hasn’t before happened in a long, long time! I’m lucky with my reading these days. I haven’t yet acted on it this time, though, because I’m drowning under a HUGE pile of TBR, but I’m really tempted… very, very tempted. UPDATE: by the time this post is getting published, I already read the sequel… Yes. I’m weak.

Please, don’t forget to make a stop at the other blogs hosting the tour!

Since there are so many participants in this giant tour, there’s a separate banner for each day, so please, bear in mind that these ten blogs are only the tip of the ice berg! I don’t know the exact number of blogs participating, but it is around a hundred which is fantastic! It also means I can’t possibly tag everyone, so here it is: the banner for today!

And here are the others for all the other days:

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If you don’t want to miss the other 9 days’ posts (there are many reviews, first chapter reviews, and also interviews), check out the following tags on Twitter: #thewritereads #ultimateblogtours #afterthegreenwithered !

Also, if you’d like to know what’s going on in the book blogger community, regarding this tour, or because of our #blogoftheday & #reviewoftheday project – or just in general, follow @The_WriteReads (if you’re not following already)!

Guys! I’m so happy to be a part of this, and I love reading all your posts! It’s like a huge buddy read, everyone read the book around the same time, everyone discusses it, and it’s so great to see we have a common project! Don’t you guys feel like…belonging?

I know I do!

Hugs 🙂 Huge ones.

I'm so happy to be a part of this first #bookbloggers party of #Ultimateblogtours ! Here's my review of 'After the Green Withered' by @YA_Author #thewritereads #afterthegreenwithered I'm so excited to be involved in this huge, never-before-on-Earth-happened book blog tour! When Dave first asked me if I thought it was possible or not (

[baskervilleangel]

Crimson Cloud - Queen Hemophage, True Hemorrhage

In the brilliant silver light of the moon blood ruptured from their bodies in violent jets of red. It glinted in the light which filled Widow with determination and jubilation, she could hardly contain her laughter while her opposition cried out in agony. With the clenching of her fist, the blood stopped in midair and swirled into a large spike. She held her other hand outward towards the hunter before her and seized control of his body. Completely paralyzed by her power all he could do was watch and wait for the end. The fear in his eyes was so clear to see, and despite her newfound motherly duties this was something that Widow needed, something she craved.

Fear. Sin. Blood.

With a flick of her hand the spike was upon him, penetrating his torso and lifting him a bit off the ground. This was a trick the Draculina learned from her maker. Her sire developed a nasty habit of impaling his enemies and putting them on display to ward off his enemies, this she was taught — and this she had done. The man before her, the hunter, was not the first to end up like this. He was not even the hundredth. In fact, he wasn’t even the hundredth on that day. She moved over over to examine her work of art and raised her hand upwards, adding his own blood to the spike, forcing it to grow taller and taller. Once it was done, the blood hardened like a magnificent crystal. The soft skin of her hand gently wrapped around it, caressing it lovingly, then she had stuck it deep into the ground. Backpedaling and glancing away, she took in the sight of hundreds behind her form that looked just like the man she had just impaled. The look on her face was horrifying. It could only be explained in these two words.

Mad Love.

This fight, this war of theirs, even life itself, was simply a game of chess to Widow; and upon the board of life… she was the queen.

———————————————————

Widow Lockwood

Queen, Mother, Predator, Horror.”

"You became a monster, because you couldn't cry anymore right? Children cry. It's what they do. But when those tears dry up and their heart turns empty, there is nothing left, but a monster who clings to the life they could have had. So we'll make that life a reality, my dear wife." - Widow to Viola Lockwood

Returning once again from beyond the veil, Widow Black is back as the mother of Veronika, Dante, Virgil, Vierabrït Lockwood and the wife of Viola S. Lockwood. Resigning from her old occupation of “unstoppable binge-eater” Widow takes a new, motherly, role in this part of the series by focusing on training and teaching the new generation.

Although time has turned her into a passive person, she protects her family vehemently; striking down all threats with extreme prejudice. Her skill and power is only matched by her love — and bloodlust.

Prior to the legendary conflict known as “the War of Future-Past” she went under her alias “Olive” and was frequently referred to by her epithets, “Binge-Eater” or “Glutton Roamer”. These epithets were of course linked to the fact that she excessively and compulsively fed to cope with a plethora of issues, both mental and physical, as well as the fact that she would consume entire bodies as opposed to simply drinking their blood.

———————————————————

Statistics

Age – 4.5bil +.

Height – 172cm (5’8’’)

Arcana – Death

Species – Unnatural Tribrid ( Ţânţar, Soul Host, Passenger)

Soul Drive – Gospel of the Throttle (Formerly)

Occupation – Mother, Old Blood

Gender – Female

Nationality – Wallachian

Hair – Black

Eyes – Light Green

Talents - All of the talents of her children.

Likes – The Cacophony of a Massacre, Caring for her family, Feeding, Pain, Her Family, Art.

Dislikes – Witches, Humanity, Abominations, Gods, basically anything she predates.

—

Strength - S

Speed - SSS

Defense - A

Technique - SSS+

Cooperation - Hard F- (S when paired with family)

———————————————————

Personality

“Upon the land of this world, which my wife fought so dearly for, a malignant god now descends with unholy creatures born from rotten flesh. Its as if they deem us inferior to them… as if they can own what they take. I – No… WE, will be the ones standing when all is said and done.”

Wise and knowledgeable, Widow acts as an historian to all who know her. Through the ages she had become kind, well mannered, caring and motherly — but only towards her children and the allies of her wife, Viola. She is also exceptionally confident and vain about her abilities, a trait which she passed on to Veronika and Dante. After spending a few centuries with Viola Widow had adopted her wife’s sense of humor, making jokes at inappropriate times as well as taunting and demeaning one-liners; another trait she passed onto Veronika.

Beneath this newfound personality, she still retains her cruel and sadistic personality, viewing the troubles of humanity and mortal creatures as superficial. She consistently sees all other living life forms as food, mere sustenance to sustain her family. At times she will even erupt into verbal assaults, and very rarely, physical violence when a human states that she is wrong about something. However, even though she has an intense hatred of all living creatures, she will only feast on the worst of their species; Identifying them through her ability to smell ones sins.

This dichotomy of her mind is a result from the years of trauma and abuse she had suffered before becoming the creature that she is today.

Where Viola is concerned Widow feels nothing but love, admiration and loyalty towards her wife. Viola had deeply impacted Widow’s psyche, as she was Widow’s first true friend. Despite being Viola’s sire, Widow found herself hanging onto Viola’s every word. Viola had even ignited Widow’s unsettling appreciation of art. Morbidly, her interest in art became more of a macabre nightmare, which heavily distincted from Viola’s more easy going artwork. Widow’s art, even now, is a horrifying reflection of self. Sculptures and paintings are her forte, all of which depict her victims in their final moments. Her art is always the same theme which always highlights her rejection of death, making her exceptionally prideful and at times snobbish.

———————————————————

Personal Note

Widow is one of my favorite characters of all time. Writing her in part III, experiencing her dichotomy first hand is one of my best experiences ever.

When Widow initially became part of the Baskerville world her main role was as a devil on Viola’s shoulder. Her main motivation was power which she would go to obscenely high lengths to achieve (such as excessive predation). Despite her cruelty and lust for power she retains this child like sense of the world. In fact, that’s more or less the entire reason why she sought more power. On the inside she’s just a kid who couldn’t cry anymore. Seeing her change from a bloodthirsty monster into a kind hearted mother is by far one of my favorite metamorphoses. I am absolutely bewitched by all of her flaws, and the person she became.

To touch on Widow’s obscene work of art, its more than simply a statement of “I live forever and you don’t!” What she believes she captures in her horrifying sculptures is the moment a person is freed by death. Their final moments are no longer theirs, but hers. No matter how much she has changed, she is a special kind of monster and her artwork reflects that.

As a small unrelated trivia fact, “Maman” is the term used by her children to refer to Widow. There are multiple reasons why this word was chosen, but the major two is for this reason:

Maman is the french word for “mum” and is used instead of “mother” as a way to distinct between Widow and Viola.

The second is due to the steel, bronze and marble sculpture of the same name created by Louise Bourgeois. When imagining the spider like limbs of blood that occasionally escape her back I immediately draw a parallel to this magnificent sculpture.

When I read the way that Bourgeois connected the sculpture to her mother I immediately drew a parallel to how I imagined Widow in this new part of the series. Perhaps its best for you to read her words and draw the connection yourself.

“The Spider is an ode to my mother. She was my best friend. Like a spider, my mother was a weaver. My family was in the business of tapestry restoration, and my mother was in charge of the workshop. Like spiders, my mother was very clever. Spiders are friendly presences that eat mosquitoes. We know that mosquitoes spread diseases and are therefore unwanted. So, spiders are helpful and protective, just like my mother.” – Louise Bourgeois

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.25

“Conflicting Reports”

A/N: You might be able to identify the first set of visitors to Luluan with good detective work based on the details revealed in this chapter. Also, if you happen to catch the resemblance to a certain other Swedish character... yes, it is intentional! I couldn't resist throwing in a little homage to one of my favorite literary characters.

If you'd like to skip past all the alien investigation content because worldbuilding isn't your bag and you just want to get to the character stuff, last scene is a Cornwell one I'm particularly fond of. (And another scene that was written months ago. So glad to finally be able to post it!)

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 24 - The Lului’s Secret 26 - Right as Rain >>

For once, as it flew between the stars, the Triton was abuzz with activity.

After leaving Luluan, both the Triton and the Calgary set a course for Vega, where the two ships offloaded their complement of enterprising criminals and the Gentonian ship was impounded. Assuming Egarell did not sell the ship to finance some form of legal defense, there the Gentonian ship would remain until Egarell or one of his cohorts secured their freedom by verdict or time served.

The Triton did not hang around to discover which. The moment the last prisoner was offloaded, they set a new course at maximum speed for Risa.

There was no real need for urgency. The Starway offices on Risa had already been raided and Beldehen Venel and several others taken into custody. The facilities on Risa were perfectly adequate to the task of detaining the offenders, but the Risian authorities did not like impounding off-worlders because it went counter to their image as an idyllic vacation spot. The decision was made to move Venel and the others to the facility on Vega. Lorca immediately volunteered the Triton for this duty.

Assuming they continued at max speed, they would be at Risa in a couple of days. If the ship's engines ended up needing a day or three to recover from the strain of such a taxing flight as a result, so be it. The Triton was an old ship on the verge of being decommissioned. It could hardly be expected to turn back around too quickly, and Lorca felt the crew had earned a bit of vacation.

Even if they had not, they were certainly earning it now. Every department was working overtime. Between their sensors and the Calgary's, they had amassed a veritable treasure trove of data about Luluan, and it took time to sift through and analyze it all.  

And then there was Lalana. He might have dropped her on Vega, but Risa seemed the better choice. It was just as much a travel hub, this afforded her more time to assist with their investigative endeavors, and Risa was, by its own admission, a paradise. What better introduction to the wonders of the Federation?

Sitting in the captain's chair, he reviewed the latest updates Arzo had made to the report on Luluan's planetary properties. The scans had turned up some interesting things. He was thoroughly engrossed to the point where if he had been doing his usual pacing, he probably would have tripped over Carver's navigation console.

Of all the things he had expected to read about Luluan, dead last was that the planet showed signs of terraforming on a massive and advanced scale. Its orbit was perfect. Artificially perfect. It deviated with such slightness from perfection that it had no seasons.

And then there was the star. One of the first things Benford had said upon Lorca's return was that without that enhanced beacon, they never would have found Luluan. The red star was in a particularly dense spot of the Briar Patch, and like the sun on a cloud-covered day, was visible only from a few directions through gaps in the clouds. How anyone had found it in the first place, they did not know. Probably completely by accident.

As for why these invaders had tried so hard to colonize the planet, Arzo had a strong theory. Luluan was a veritable hotbed of geothermal potential. The planet radiated heat. Its little red sun accounted for only part of the surface temperature. The fact that it was not also racked by massive seismic disturbances was apparently a further result of the terraforming. The structure of its internal ocean was designed to regulate the planet's internal pressure. The knowledge required to design and implement such a system on a stable planetary scale went well beyond anything in the Federation.

The task of identifying Luluan's first invaders initially fell to Larsson. In this regard, Lalana was not very helpful. "Hla-pu," she identified them, which did not match anything on file, and she reported they looked much like humans but with very advanced technology, which also did not help. A lot of species in the quadrant shared the same basic structure and features as humans. Given the timeline, it definitely wasn't humans, unless secretly some aliens really had been abducting humans in centuries past. Larsson gave up on the search almost immediately. "What do I look like, a detective?" he grunted.

"You look like an officer on my ship," said Lorca. "But if this is too hard a task for you..." He hoped a small dig at Larsson's capabilities would inspire the lieutenant to try harder.

It did not. Larsson made a small humming noise and shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly. He failed to see any point in wasting his time when it might be better spent elsewhere. "It is too hard. I want to focus on history."

Lorca gave the task to Kerrigan, who tackled it with great enthusiasm, hopeless as it seemed.

The other impossible task was Umale's box. Arzo speculated it might be a data storage device because it had a localized energy field that seemed to contain data in it, but he could not ascertain what the data was or if the data even related to the box's primary function. It would have to be transferred to a research station for further evaluation.

There were some facts that could finally be established. They had located the comet used to track cycles on Luluan, and the length of the planet's days, and were able to confirm with complete and total accuracy that the lului day was thirty-five hours long and a comet cycle was one hundred and twenty-one Earth years, so Lalana was nine hundred and forty-four years old, and Umale was coming up on a hundred thousand.

Which was entirely an exception and not a rule, because when lului bred, it killed them.

It wasn't death quite the way humans knew it and the lului did not view it as such. It was more of a recycling. When the comet arrived, the lului gathered into various masses on the yellow grasslands of the planet (these grasslands seemed to be designated meeting areas) and essentially turned themselves into cellular mush. Something happened involving the non-differentiated organs being taken apart and triggered into a gestative or regenerative state, like starfish, so that new structures were grown at the expense of the old ones. The result was, however many lului entered the breeding mass, more came out, slightly smaller than before. After gorging on worms farmed from underwater, they soon regained standard mass. The guess was that Umale's smaller size was somehow related to this.

It was a perfect method of population control, but it had clear drawbacks. Each "Great Merge" was capable of increasing the population by about twenty percent. The fact that there were four hundred and eighty-seven million lului currently on the planet reflected the fact that seventy percent of the lului had been wiped out by the initial contact with off-worlders, and four eighty-seven was what the lului had managed to recoup in the time since.

It also put something into clear, stark perspective for Lorca: lului were accustomed to choosing the exact time and circumstance of their own death. It really was crucial to them, and if they felt death was preferable to their current or future situation, then they had no qualms about it. Thus Lalaran. Thus, too, Lalana in his ready room.

Russo’s voice interrupted Lorca's reading. "Captain, your presence is being requested in sickbay."

The words "requested in sickbay" rarely meant anything good. "Is it an emergency?"

Russo repeated the question to whoever was on the other side of the line and reported, "No, but Dr. Ek'Ez would like to speak with you as soon as possible. He says it's important."

Too important to wait for the latest draft of the medical report? Lorca sighed and vacated the captain's chair. He had been sitting a lot longer than he realized and felt stiff all over. This would be a good chance to stretch his legs, then. "Carver, you have the conn."

Ek'Ez and Li were waiting for him, Li looking grim as ever, and Ek'Ez looking... like something. Lorca had yet to fully unlock the nuances of Kakravite expressions, which were varied, usually had something to do with eye movements, and rarely corresponded to what humans expected them to. Instead, he had to rely on Ek'Ez's tone of voice, which turned out to be excited.

"Captain, Dr. Li has discovered the most amazing thing!"

”What's that?" asked Lorca, crossing his arms and preparing himself for a long explanation before Ek'Ez actually revealed the point.

"We have sequenced Lalana's genome and Dr. Li has found a match! Not a full match, you understand, a partial one, but it gives rise to the most incredible possibilities, and it was more of a match than we ever expected to find. And it was only due to Dr. Li's illustrious ancestor that we were able to make the match at all."

Lorca glanced at Li, wondering what that meant, and if Li's ego really needed the boost she was clearly getting from this roundabout revelation.

"First, let me preface this by saying—" (There it was, the beginning of the real preamble. Lorca tried not to look too bored.) "—it has been extremely difficult to sequence Lalana's genome because, as you will recall, her cells degrade incredibly quickly when removed from the host biomatrix. Assembling even the three percent of the genome we have took thousands upon thousands of cells, each cell providing us with but a small piece of the whole before it turned into, as you humans might say, 'soup.' We had to painstakingly piece together these snippets in order to uncover longer chains of bases. And may I say, it was very gracious of Lalana to provide us these cells, given the cost to her, and I have now suspended any further sequencing."

"Cost?" prompted Lorca.

"As you may recall, the undifferentiated nature of her cells means that each of her cells functions as neural tissue."

Lorca realized what Ek'Ez was saying without needing any further explanation, but was shocked enough that he said nothing, meaning Ek'Ez continued with his usual level of medical explanation for morons.

"Every time we harvest any amount of Lalana's cells, we run the risk of removing her memories, disrupting motor functions, essentially harvesting active brain tissue. While Lalana assures us she has plenty of cells, and cells do naturally replenish themselves over time, the implications of removing material from someone's brain for frivolous research purposes goes against the practices of ethical medicine."

"It's not frivolous," said Li suddenly. "We got a match. We might get even more if we finish the sequence."

"Yes, but the cost," said Ek'Ez lightly, generally unperturbed by his colleague's apparent lack of ethics. "I do not think that the benefits will justify it if we continue. The information we have gleaned is more than enough."

Lorca's voice was like ice. "What information."

"Based on what we have sequenced, Starfleet has encountered a species which shares several strong genetic similarities to lului. When you consider some of Lalana's attributes, it actually makes perfect sense. Her ability to change color, the control she has of her dermal filaments, the compound pupils—"

"Dr. Ek'Ez!" barked Lorca.

Ek'Ez's eyes blinked one after the other. "The Suliban, sir. Her code provided a match to the Suliban."

Lorca froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but it took a moment to get the word out. "...Suliban?"

"More specifically, sir, the Suliban belonging to the Cabal," said Li. "My uncle encountered them on the Enterprise and described green eyes with multiple pupils. That's how I knew to ask Starfleet for the code. It wasn't in the public database."

The Suliban had risen to infamy during the early days of Starfleet when the genetically-modified soldiers of the Suliban Cabal had infiltrated various governments and organizations, threatening stability across the known galaxy. Starfleet had been among their targets. Even now, a hundred years later, the Suliban were still viewed with suspicion by some.

Lorca looked at Ek'Ez. For once he wanted to hear everything the doctor had to say.

Ek'Ez was uncharacteristically silent. "Well?" prompted Lorca expectantly.

Ek'Ez struggled to think of something to say. "It would stand to reason that whoever modified the Suliban possessed tremendous genetic technology. They were able to splice lului genes into the Suliban code, whereas we are barely able to sequence it."

"So they had a lului?" said Lorca.

"I should think so. It is interesting, of course, that they were able to splice these codes together at all. Lului cells are so unlike the cells of most species. It makes me wonder if there isn’t some connection between lului and Suliban."

"Which I could confirm if I sequence the rest of the genome," said Li.

"I am not comfortable with further cell harvesting, we have harvested too much already. Absent a medical need, we cannot dissect a patient's brain while they are using it, even if they agree to the procedure," said Ek'Ez, finally displaying what Lorca felt to be a reasonable level of frustration with Li.

"What am I supposed to do with this information?" asked Lorca.

"I was hoping you would tell me what to do with it," said Ek'Ez. "Because of its potentially classified nature, do I put this in my report?"

Lorca left sickbay and resolved never to go back in there if he could help it. He stepped into the turbolift.

Sickbay came to him, in the form of Dr. Li running to catch up. "Sir!"

He put a hand out, holding the turbolift doors. "Yes, doctor?"

She did not step into the turbolift, merely stood in the hall addressing him. "This connection to the Suliban Cabal is too important to let it languish as some footnote in a medical report. Give me permission to continue extracting genetic data from Lalana so I can complete the analysis."

"You heard Ek. It's unethical."

Li pondered that, pouting. "She said she'd be willing to help me. I'm sure we can keep any damage to a minimum."

If there was one thing Lalana's many missteps had made clear, it was that she did not fully understand or appreciate her own limitations. "I'm sure you believe that, and I'm sure Lalana does, but she doesn't always know what's best. Dr. Ek'Ez is the senior medical officer on board this ship, and what he says, goes."

"Yes, but—"

"Look, Samaritan, I want to know more about this connection, just like you do. But there are some lines we in Starfleet cannot cross. The Suliban Cabal were active a hundred years ago. You're telling me you think you're gonna get some actionable intelligence on a hundred-year-old group of terrorists?"

Li stared down at her feet. There were things the captain did not know about the Cabal, things that she was not supposed to know, and she could not tell him why it was so important because doing so would jeopardize the thing she valued most in the world. She swallowed, knowing she was making a mistake, but she had to try all the same. The legacy of her family was at stake. "Just let me harvest a few more cells before we get to Risa. It'll be worth the cost. Whatever the cost is."

"You don't get to decide that," said Lorca flatly, removing his hand from the door. The turbolift slid shut.

It had been obvious from the get-go that Li did not view Lalana as an equal. No matter what Lalana said, did, or was, Li seemed to look at the lului and see an animal that could have beneficial research applications, not a patient, and certainly not a person. Lorca himself had made enough mistakes trying to use Lalana to his advantage. There was no way he was going to let Li repeat that.

But still, Suliban Cabal? Even now, a hundred years on, there were still rumors of more to that chapter of history than the official record provided. Umale had known about the Federation. Did that mean there was another secret to the lului?

The doors opened on the bridge and Lorca immediately swung left to his ready room, proceeded into the bathroom, and vomited into the sink.

Katrina Cornwell reached over to the bedstand and pawed at the signaling, beeping commlink with the sort of foggy-brained clumsiness that suggested she had just been approaching the threshold of a dream and her brain did not appreciate being pulled out of it. "What," she groaned.

"Incoming from the captain of the Triton."

Her eyes fluttered. She answered the comm tech, but not clearly enough for him to understand her. "Put it through!" she repeated, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Kat, I didn't mean to wake you!"

There were two key reasons she knew that was a lie. First, he was meticulous about time, particularly when it came to San Francisco. Second, the comm tech would not have put him through unless he insisted it was important, which meant he knew he would wake her, and that waking her had been an entirely intentional part of his agenda.

She staggered over to her desk, feeling her way along in the dim light from the commlink. "It's the middle of the night, Gabriel. Why are you calling?" She recognized the look in his eyes. A thought tugged at her half-awake mind. "Did you think I would be naked?"

He feigned innocence. Badly. "I mean..." He knew her well enough to realize it wasn't wholly out of the realm of possibility.

Oh my god, she thought, sitting down with a sigh. He'd been hoping she was. Thankfully she'd gone to sleep in a tank top and shorts. She checked the time. 23:35. They were scheduled to discuss his full mission reports in seven and a half hours. "What couldn't wait until the morning?"

"About that..."

She sensed instinctively what was coming and gave him a look that said, You wouldn't dare.

He would, of course. "We’ve gotten a little off-schedule getting these reports ready for the admiral. Since I've been up for the last eighteen hours..."

And she had been asleep for the last hour and a half. "You want me to do the presentation for you."

"Honestly, Katrina, these reports speak for themselves."

She rubbed her eyes. He had done this same thing to her several times over the years, ever since their time at the Academy. One night before a presentation, he called her, fake-coughed and said he felt like he was coming down with something so he might not be able to make it, and to go on without him if so.

At the time, she couldn't figure out why. He liked presentations. He was great at them. He had a natural reservoir of confidence and charisma that usually inspired the people around him to follow his lead.

Turned out he'd been invited to a senior cadet function the night before. To further sell the lie, when she called to check on him in the morning, he actually had been in the infirmary with what she later found out was a massive, massive hangover.

As for why he was doing this now, there would be a reason, a real reason, probably even a halfway-decent one, but over the years she had come to understand that at its core, this was about control. He liked to dictate the terms of his engagements. He probably wasn't even doing this to her consciously.

Sensing she was not entirely convinced, he said, "I promise I'll make it up to you..." He had made it up to her back at the Academy, too. Easily one of the best nights they had ever had together. Guilt was a powerful motivator.

"All right. Give me the highlights." She had long since given up telling him this was going to be the last time. There was no point in lying to him, or to herself.

He launched into an overview of what the strongest areas of the reports were, and where there were weaknesses to avoid. She recorded this information so she didn't have to listen too intently. "The history of the Lului is where this really shines. Now that we have more time with Lalana—"

Even half-asleep, she caught it. "Wait, what? What do you mean, more time?"

"Didn't I mention that? We're just giving her a lift to Risa."

There it was. That was the reason he didn't want to make the presentation. He knew, quite correctly, that this would not go down well with the Admiral, and he didn't feel like dealing directly with the fallout. Not when he could use Cornwell to mitigate the damage. Bad news always sounded best coming from a familiar voice.

Though the circumstances of Starfleet's encounter with the lului had certainly been unique, officially, they had been added to the list of Protected Worlds and Races, with a strict Non-Interference order. The hope was that, in time, Luluan would return to its natural, pre-interference state. (Since Cornwell had not read the reports yet, she did not yet know exactly how ludicrous an aim this was.) Transporting a member of the species off the planet was expressly counter to the protection order.

"You kept her. You kept the lului." Cornwell covered her face with her hands. When her hands fell away, they revealed an expression of intensely annoyed revelation. "Of course you did. She's a massive boost to your ego!" Maybe if it weren’t the middle of the night for her she would have been kinder or less honest, but it was, so she wasn't.

"Not everything I do is about my ego!" he exclaimed, immediately incensed.

"Gabriel." She stretched his name out into three judgmental syllables. There was nothing he hated quite like being called out, especially when whatever he was being called out for contained some kernel of the truth.

He sighed in annoyance and defeat. "Look, she was going to kill herself if I left her on the planet. Tried to do it right here in my ready room."

Again, Cornwell was flabbergasted. "What?"

"Started smashing her head on the floor. But it's fine now. I took care of it. Anyway. Have you got the reports?"

"Back up. We need to talk about the fact your alien tried to kill itself. In front of you."

Lorca was a little tired of hearing Lalana described as "his" alien. "As much as I'd love to go twelve rounds of mano a mano psychoanalysis with you right now, it is late there, and I'd like to get some sleep, as I'm sure you would. So if you can confirm you've received the files..."

She glanced over at the desk console. "Seven reports, totaling... two hundred and ninety thousand words!?" The medical and history files were lengthy, as they should be, but his command report alone was almost sixty. There was no way she was going to be able to read it to any extent before the briefing. There was also a classified addendum to the medical report which piqued her interest, but was coded above her clearance level. What was that?

"Good, it's all there." There was an air of finality to his voice, as if he felt it time to terminate the call, but Cornwell wasn't done with him.

"I know you like being thorough, but, these aren't reports, these are—what is this? A love letter? A manifesto?"

He cocked his head. "I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of saying 'I love you' in three words."

"Really," said Cornwell flatly, doubting Lorca had the emotional wherewithal to actually mean it if he did say it.

"And I've got plenty of other ways of letting you know I care that aren't nearly as dry and... cerebral as a bunch of reports." He smirked at her suggestively.

It was too late in the goddamn night for this. She fixed him with an angrily tired glare. "I didn't say it was a love letter to me."

"Well it's certainly not a love letter to Admiral Wainwright," he said, snickering at the idea.

While she hadn't read a word of the reports he'd just given her, she had read all of the reports and logs leading up to this set, and she had a good idea of how to push his buttons. "Tell me again why you kept the lului, Gabriel."

His laughter stopped abruptly. He scoffed. "You need sleep more than I do. You understand she's a sort of... monkey, rat... jellyfish thing, right?" He let her process that description a moment. (Her process determined he was trying much too hard to make his description sound unappealing.) "If I have been overly thorough, it's only because I understand the monumental importance of this mission to Starfleet, and I've taken the mantle of this responsibility—"

"Goodnight, Gabriel," she said, and promptly terminated the call. What an idiot he could be. Obviously, his first love was his job. It was written plainly in everything he did. No one—not her, and not some alien—was ever going to change that.

God, she thought to herself as she crawled back into bed. I am a world-class enabler.

Part 26