#foolishly still doing behind the scenes work

[shopwitchvamp]

me after using up two dozen spoons i don't even have

[inkonparchment]

American Wedding | Part 2

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

You've never seen him, you’ve never met him and yet here you are, Mrs Kennedy, a fate that was always to be yours since the day you were born. The golden band on your finger catches dust at the train station, hoping that at the very least, he's kind.

warnings: this is set in late 1800s. reader is described as having long, silky hair. allusions to mental and physical abuse (not by Leon). misogyny. marriage of convenience. arranged marriage. implied age gap. absolute zero research for era appropriateness. bodyshaming. eating disorder.

word count: 5.6k

a/n: writing this felt exactly like how it feel watching a one take movie scene. i hope this wasn't disappointing and lives up to expectations. enjoy<33

prev.

You barely sleep.  

The cotton sheets feel soft under your touch as you curl in a fetal position in the centre of the bed, your book still clutched tightly against your chest. Sleep doesn’t come to you, your heart a hammer in your chest, eyes wide and unblinking, ears sharp and trained to listen for any scuffle outside your door.

You think he will come again, in the dead of the night with no soul around to bear witness to his ravage of you. Perhaps he is careful of his image, not wanting his men to see his cruelty. Wet tears moisten your cheeks, gathering into a puddle near the embroidered roses on your pillow. The mattress feels wrong. It’s too stiff, too cold and smells foreign. It doesn’t feel like home.  

You trace the roses with your fingers, swallowing your sobs, pressing the hardcover closer to your heart in hopes of soothing it. It works terribly, for your heart still aches for your mother. With the edge of your palm, you press away the tears, trying to recreate her gentle loving caress. But it's not the same. She feels so far away, the scent of her floral perfume already a distant memory. Your hands ache to write to her, drowning in want to melt into her arms, to run back to her. 

But can you? No.  

Your husband wouldn’t allow it. I will never force you to do anything that you do not wish to do. Is that not what he had said? But you know that candour is not a trait possessed by men, their tongue crafted by the devil himself, dripping in fallacies. He means to be kind to gain your trust, perhaps a planned ruse to lull you into a false sense of security until he decides to truly reveal himself to you.  

You tangle your hand into your hair, combing it away from your face, imagining yourself sitting on the stairs of your- your father’s porch, your mother sitting behind you with a brush in her hand. You would watch the butterflies, watch in fascination as they would fly freely across the green pastures, taking their pick of the prettiest flowers whenever they wish to rest. It’s in a man’s nature to be cruel, they just can’t help it. That would unsettle you, taking her words in your mind and spinning it around in every angle. 

Surely that can’t be?  

Mr. Matthews always caressed his daughter’s cheek before handing her a butterscotch. You would always stare at their interactions from your seat three rows behind them at church, agog at the way he looked at her, something akin to fondness, you could even delude yourself into thinking it was love. You had given it a try, foolishly tugging your father’s hand against your cheek, expectantly staring into his eyes to see if you could find the same twinkle in them. 

You had to sleep on your left side that night, the sting across your right cheek too unbearable to put any weight on it, only for it to be cooled by the stream of your warm tears.  

Exhaustion soon wins over, underestimating how much you had been spent by the day. The memory of your father etched in the front of your eyes when your eyes finally flutter shut.  

You don’t know how long you sleep for, dreaming endlessly of lush field speckled with daffodils that burst against the soft trot of your horse, hair whipping in the air, suddenly shooting upright as the hammer in your chest returns, almost tearing through your ribs. It takes you a whole to absorb your surroundings. 

Your bed is in the wrong direction, it doesn’t have four tall posts with chiffon draped around, your curtains aren’t blue against the orange gleam of the morning sun shining through. The walls are different, your vanity a strange shape with possessions scattered across that you don’t recognize. You panic, thinking you are in the wrong place, taken blazingly in the dead of the night from your home. Reality finally hits as you almost scramble out of the bed, melting back onto its edge, the book falling to the floor with a loud thud.  

Of course. You’re Mrs. Kennedy now, a possession still but now by a different man. 

You blink at your blurred reflection in the mirror. Your make up is non-existent now, smudged sloppily across your face, the streaks of tears leaving behind tracks on your cheeks. You feel hollow, lips sticking to one another, chapped as you pull them apart. Your hair now cascades down your shoulders, carelessly thrown over each other, still clad in the virgin white of your supposed wedding dress.  

Your senses are slow to return but the house feels quiet, deathly so. There’s no movement, no murmur, no thunderous applause of boots or the loud indignations spurred on by drunken stupor. There are no slamming doors, no muffled tears. And that sets you on the edge.  

There’s a sharp rap of knuckles against your door that has you jumping from your seat, standing upright, straightening the state of your hair as you fold your shaking hands in front of your skirt. I hope he doesn’t bruise. The door swings open softly and standing on the other side is a kindly looking woman, the roots of her hair turning grey, pulled back into a neat bun and dressed in a soft brown plain dress.  

She introduces herself but you’ve already forgotten her name, too struck down in your fear to register anything. Soon after she’s ushering you out of your room, bustling you across through another door. Steam greets you with a soft gentle tug, a bathtub sitting in the centre of the room, smelling deliciously of perfumes and oils. You are stripped of your previous clothes and submerged in the water. 

It’s nice, at a perfect temperature. But you’re numb to the woman’s gentle scrubbing, washing you as though you are porcelain. She doesn’t say much, doesn’t stare, doesn’t ask questions but instead lets you be, kneading out knots from your tense shoulder. You must take care of your hygiene. Smell nice, look pretty, be of some value like a jewel. Only then will he learn to cherish you. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t lay with you. Maybe he considered you impure, tainted by your past life, carrying with you a stench that you could not smell. Perhaps he will now that you are scrubbed clean. Still frozen in your state, the woman coaxes you out of the tub, wrapping something equally warm around your shoulders and then you’re herded back to your room. 

 You blink and she is gone. 

The stool of your vanity is comfortable, the velvet plush under your touch. Any evidence of yesterday’s travels has been washed away from you, all of your make up gone, leaving behind soft unmarked skin. You’re in a periwinkle blue dress, the colour light and soft against your skin. Your hair has been left to curl loosely around your shoulders, strands fluttering across your forehead. You gather them quick and push them back, hastily locking them tightly, not a single lock out of place. There should be no flaw visible on you. 

And then you sit like a corpse, fingers tugging against each other, the sun merry in its journey to the apex. You wonder why you’re not happy, always having dreamed of escaping your home. But perhaps you had indulged in your fantasies too much for this to bring you satisfaction; dreaming of heroes coming to save you with their glittering swords and brilliant stallions, threatening to tear apart anyone who stood in the way of his love, cupping your face with utmost gentleness, whispering grand professions of their love, of how you are the moon that guides them home before setting off to a blissful life awaiting in the land beyond where the sun sets. Perhaps this was your own undoing. 

Sunlight floods your room now, the gurgle of your empty stomach finally prompting you to dare to venture into his house. You heard no noise during your pitiful vigil, confirming that you were perhaps alone. The stairs creak as you descend them slowly one by one, careful not to make too much noise. 

The first thing you notice is the door that leads outside. There’s a glass panel in the centre, allowing you a glimpse into the outside world. The sun shines bright, dust kicking up every now and then by what you assume is the wind. The sudden urge to run grips you again, screaming at you to take the opportunity, to not look back. Too late for all that now, isn’t it? You smooth your skirt, bury those thoughts for good and walk forward.  

The parlour is a vast space, surrounded but couches and chairs alike all turned towards the bricked fireplace. There is no stuffed animal head hanging atop the fireplace, the usual subject of boasting during men’s gathering, gauffing about the animal’s helplessness before the final killing shot, whiskey tipping out of their glasses and onto the wooden floor below.  

It looks unused, something about the space that seems cold, perhaps it’s the thick layer of dust atop the abandoned book sitting on the table like it hasn’t been disturbed in years. The curtains are drawn, material thick as it doesn’t let any light permeate through it. You don’t dare to take a step inside, not wanting to disturb whatever has been left abandoned in it.  

You find the kitchen easy enough, right next to the main entrance. It is sizeable, your eyes widening at the space, admiring the solid wooden dining table seating eight in the middle. A small basket carrying assortment of fruits calls you towards it, hesitantly reaching out for an apple, its red skin glistening under the golden rays. You look over your shoulder once before allowing your fingers to curl around it. 

You pull it towards yourself, inhaling deeply, eyelashes fluttering at its sweet scent. You skin your teeth in, juice erupting where you had bruised its skin, tongue quick to lap them up. The apple disappears quick in your haste, bitten down to the very edge of its core, leaving your fingers sticky from where you hold it. The hunger quells in your stomach, no longer protesting from starvation but also not quite satiated. But it is all that you allow yourself, quickly disposing off the remnants, hiding any evidence of your meal. No seconds for you, we don’t need you chubbing up uselessly. No man will want you.  

You think about exploring the rest of the house but pause. Isn’t the kitchen the most important room now as the lady of the house? It is your responsibility, every other corner irrelevant. Your room for you to rest and the kitchen for you to serve. You begin to move by yourself, scouring the entire room, familiarising yourself with its every crevice. You look out the window over the sink, the sun almost as high as it can get and the thought of making lunch hits quick, shivering at the thought of your hungry husband returning home without a warm meal waiting for him. 

You find the ingredients needed for a hearty stew, some missing but you’ll inform him later, setting quick over the stove. A warm meal always cools tempers. You find a pretty apron hanging by a hook inside the pantry, an aura of dust around it. The image of your husband donning it on to cook relieves your anxiety a bit, but shame quickly follows about thinking of him that way. The lid goes on the pot bubbling away and you set aside a plate for him, lessening the time it would take to serve him.  

It’s when the sun begins to come down from the top mast that the sound of heavy boots snaps you out of your daze. You straighten quick, pushing the chair back in its place and dust off your apron, adjusting your skirt and then standing with your hands folded together.  

You see his shadow fall on the floor before you see him, bringing with him the scent of dirt and sweat. Leon walks in through, hat in one hand and a rag in another that he’s using to wipe his face, too busy to notice you immediately. You try to control the way your pulse starts to hum, struck at how different he looks from the first time you met him. Gone is the proper looking gentleman. 

In his steed stands a rancher, a man who works tirelessly on his land, unafraid of hard work. His outfit is replaced by a plain dark blue shirt with sleeves pushed to his elbows, his veins carving out paths on his glistening forearm, disappearing in the bulge of his concealed biceps. His suspenders attach to his dirtied work jeans, boots heavy in their steps, leaving a trail of dust behind him.  

He notices you, lowering the rag and swiping his hair back from his face where they remain, wet from his sweat. Leon’s expression immediately softens, turning towards you, eyebrows furrowed at how you cling so stiffly to the edge of the dining table. The concern in his eyes pulls you in, not a word uttered but the look on his face urges you to relax. His eyes flicks to the pot on the stove, then to you, then to your apron. But he makes no remark. 

“Good morning,” You blurt out without thinking. 

The upturn of his lips is instant, stuffing the rag in his back pocket and putting his hat on the table. “Good afternoon.”  

Right, you almost smack yourself, growing heated as he places his hands on the chair, leaning against it, biceps flexing as he shifts his posture. He looks over your form, bright blue eyes taking you in, never lingering anywhere too long to make it uncomfortable.  

“Did you sleep well?” Leon gently asks, furrowing his brows. 

“Yes.” The lie is instant. There’s no reason to burden him with your worries. He’s keeping you in his home and that is enough.  

He hums thoughtfully, eyeing you up as though in question and searching. For what, you don’t know. 

Your mind snaps at you again, reminding you of the heated stew and chastising at your lack of response after seeing your husband return from work. “I made some food. If...if you’d like.”  

It’s childish how you blurt short sentences around him, anxiety making you word vomit instead of taking deep breaths and talking in proper sentences like a proper lady. You’ll have to correct it soon; there’s only so much patience you can demand from him.  

“Thank you.” Leon sounds genuine as though truly grateful for your effort, his voice gravelly after a day of labour. “I’ll wash up.”  

You stand there as he walks past you towards the sink. You stand frozen, the sound of running water drowning out the chaos in your mind. His broad shoulders draw your gaze, each movement igniting a mix of admiration and anxiety. Should I say something? 

Leon turns off the water and turns, clean towel in his hand as he dries off, catching you staring at him. You immediately look away, anxiously pulling at your apron as you busy yourself in scooping out the food in his plate. You pick up the plate of the bread you cut up, turning around to set it down in front of him and then feeling your footsteps stutter.  

He’s not sitting at the head of the table like you thought, like you were made to practice the proper etiquette to serving your husband. He sits on the far side from you where he can watch the stove, the window and the main door. It's no matter. You still serve him. 

You set the plates down in front of him, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight shake in your hands. 

“Thank you,” He repeats in the low gentle tone of his, “You really didn’t have to.”  

You back away just as quickly hands clasped like they were before.  

He leans his head forward, catching wafts of steam in his nose, inhaling deeply. When he opens his eyes, there is a glaze in them, but it disappears before you can catch it. Leon picks up his spoon but doesn’t start, not yet, twisting his head to look at you expectantly. 

Your heart leaps out of your throat. What have you done? Have you done something wrong? Does he not like to eat stew? God, you should have asked him for his meal preferences. Was it the bread? Did you set- 

“Where’s your plate?”  

Oh.  

“I...I’m not hungry.” Another lie. But this time your stomach grumbles loudly, betraying you. 

He sets his spoon down, leaning back in his chair as he fixes you with a look. “I am not going to eat without you.” 

His clear admission leaves you dumbfounded. What? Should he not eat first while the food is warm? What good would it be for him if you’re too busy eating yourself? What if he needs something? You’ll be slow to get it for him and he will be fast in reprimanding you.  

You dish out a serving for yourself, pushing away your anxieties. The portion you get for yourself is significantly smaller than his, choosing the pieces with less meat on them, feeling undeserving of it. You don’t need it anyways. He works hard does he not? Meanwhile you will sit away under the shade of your house. You have no use to eat heartily. 

 You hear the scraping sound of a chair being pulled back and you turn to see Leon holding the back of the chair at the head seat, waiting for you to sit so he could safely tuck it under you.  

Your mouth runs dry. How do you tell him that you cannot? That it is not your place but his to sit on the throne? That you’ll be okay sitting at the base of his feet, dusting off his shoes, making yourself as small as possible so that you’re insignificant. You’ll be a woman one day, learn to be quiet. 

But this is his house, and his word is the law. 

He pushes the seat in as you begun to sit before sitting back onto his chair. He waits until he sees you lift the spoon to your lips, silent but observant to your helping of the stew, and then he begins to eat. You sit with a bated breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable onslaught of criticism, how there is too much salt or there isn’t enough salt. Instead, he showers you with praise. “This tastes so delicious.” and “Thank you for making the meal.” and “I haven’t eaten this good in a long while.” 

Each compliment is like a fuel for your heart. You like how he says it so earnestly, his eyes wide and catching yours whenever you would dare to look at him, gleeful in how he would lick his spoon clean each bite, fascinated by how his tongue would curl around the metal. You feel your face burn, suddenly full from having watched Leon devour your cooking, soaking up every last drop on his plate with the bread slices.  

The warmth of his words wraps around you like a comforting blanket. “I’m glad you like it,” you reply, your voice soft. 

You make to get up, to take away his dishes, your own food remaining in your plate. But he is quicker than you, hands brushing against his, feeling the strong, hard calluses against your soft skin when he rises to his feet.  

Leon shakes his head at you, the gestures towards your unfinished meal. “Eat. I got this.”  

You practically shovel the food in your mouth, your blood running cold at the sound of him rinsing dishes while you finish your lunch. You make it a point to remember to finish before him next time either by lessening your portion further or simply eating fast. You’re up in a second, coughing to help move the food down faster, approaching the sink to relieve Leon from washing the dishes. 

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t let you come too close, choosing to simply take your empty dishes and add them to the pile of soapy water. You try to tell him to move, “Mr. Kennedy, please let-” 

He fixes you with a look that has you shut your mouth up in an instant. You stare at him unblinking, realising that you’re once again pulled into his gravity. The freckles on his face have freshened up, his long eyelashes fluttering against the sunlight. His stubble remains unchanged from yesterday and you’re suddenly gripped by the urge to run your hand across it, to feel it prickle against your palm.  

Leon is still staring at you, his eyes flickering between yours in search of something. There is a crease in his forehead, seemingly in deep thought. He slowly moves his head forward, forehead almost caressing yours, breathing in the same air as you, waiting for you to back away. But you don’t.  

“Leon,” He firmly says, “Always Leon to you. Try saying it.”  

You bite the tip of your tongue, regretting the slip up.  You expected more of an outburst, but he is patient with you. You can’t help but notice the speckles of green in his eyes unbothered by his musky scent that he has enclosed you in. You swallow thickly, and in a voice as low as a whisper that barely moves your husband’s bangs, you finally say, “Leon.”  

The smile he graces you with warms you to your toes, you growing bashful under it. Thankfully he doesn’t fixate on you too much, turning back to wash dishes. The two of you fall into a rhythm soon enough, him handing you wet plates and you wiping them dry and carefully placing them away. For the first time since you can remember, the silence isn’t overbearing. It doesn’t suffocate you, no sweat gathering in your hairline as you wait for the inevitable wailing that always follows.  

“Did Marla find you okay?” Leon asks in the low baritone of his voice, still focused on his task while the sunlight bathes him in gold. 

Marla? You wonder who he’s- Oh, he must he talking about the lady who helped you in the morning. You’ll have to remember to thank her later. And apologise for your stricken behaviour. “Yes, she was very helpful. Thank you.”  

The dishes are soon wiped away, kept back in their designated places and you stand at a distance from him, watching as he leans against the wooden counter. He seems to be in deep thought, glancing down to your shoe wear, scratching his stubble. “Do you have boots?”  

Boots? Why would you need boots? Does he plan on making you heave hay bales, working you to the bone under the sun? You can’t refuse, once again submitting at his mercy. “Yes, I have them upstairs.” 

Leon folds his arms, shirt straining across his chest at the action, looking at you through his eyelashes, “Go put them on.”  

You almost run, careful to hang the apron back in its place. The stairs creak under your quickened steps, kicking off your dainty shoes and struggling to lace your boots under the plaits of your skirts, mind afflicted with a dozen possibilities of what he could possibly have planned for you. 

By the time you return, he’s waiting for you by the door, his hat back on. You let go of your skirt when you near him, his hand holding the door open for you. You steal a glance towards him, biting the inside of your cheek, the glint bright in his blue eyes as he gestures with his head encouragingly.  

You step outside, the hot wind greeting you quick. You squint at the harsh light, hand coming up to shield your eyes. Leon chuckles as he brushes past you, a “come on” to make sure you follow him, taking off in the direction of the stables. Dust kicks up around your steps, trying your best to keep up. You take up your surroundings, the ranch hands working hard, tipping their hats to you as you walk past, sweat glistening down their forehead, their “Good day ma’am” making your stomach lurch, mumbling back a greeting to them, confounded at the sudden attention you’re receiving. 

Leon greets the stable boy, heading inside and glancing over your shoulder to see you haven’t strayed too far behind. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust, smiling meekly at the “Ma’am” offered to you by the young man. Your steps falter, breath hitching in your throat, eyes widening as you’re greeted with the sight of the same brilliant stallion that had brought you here yesterday. His brown coat shimmers, light moving as he trots his foot, digging into the dirt underneath. He’s beautiful, putting to shame all the horses you had seen on your father’s estate. He is  much bigger and muscular, a perfect picture of grace with beady eyes reflecting intelligence as he watches you. 

You feel a warm presence come up behind you as you donot dare to move, too enraptured by the sight in front of you. A hand comes round from your left, the golden ring glinting, palm facing towards you, holding out a sugar cube.  

“His name is Beauford,” Leon mumbles close to your ear, his silky husky voice smoothing out the edge in your system. “He’s quite fond of sweet things.” 

You can’t help but throw him an incredulous look over your shoulder, his hat tipped back a bit so you could see his whole face, eyes full of mirth, gliding between your eyes and lips. “Beauford?” 

He laughs at your tone, eyes crinkling at the corner, the sound thrilling you, surprised by how easily his features melt into softness. “Well, that would be my fault. I‘m not so good at naming gorgeous things. Now you’re here so I can leave that up to you.” 

The back of your neck burns, gaze falling immediately to the sugar cube he’s holding out to you. Hesitantly you reach out, taking note of the cracks in his palms, silvery ribbons of what you imagine to be old scars. You think about your fathers' hands, his palm soft but never holding out any love for you, only knowing them for the cruelties that he would distribute so enthusiastically. You stare hard at the cube before picking it up, your fingers lingering against his. And he moves away, taking the warmth with him. 

You step towards Beauford, his watchful gaze fixed to you holding out the sugar cube. Once you’re close enough, he steps forward, lapping up your offering. Your heart swells in glee, an easy smile breaking out on your face, hands immediately set on patting his neck, nuzzling your nose into him.  

Leon smiles as you do, hands gripping his belt buckle as he watches the scene unfold, chucking slightly when you grow bashful upon realising he’s watching you. His saddle is on, you notice, wondering if Leon would allow you to take a small trot around the stable. As you build up the courage to ask, the sound of stirrups clicking snaps your head back to see Leon gracefully climbing on another horse, it’s black mane glossy.  

You stare dumbfounded, question dead on your lips, throat drying up. He’s leans forward on his saddle, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You don’t know how to get on a horse?”  

You nod dumbly. Of course you do. It’s second nature to you.  

Leon fixes his hat on his head, a mischievous look flashing on his face. He pulls on his reigns, setting off in a gentle trot, brushing past you. The pink of his lips are upturned at the corner when he calls back out to you, “Let’s see you keep up!”  

Adrenaline begins to pump in your system, making your heart race, a light shake in your hands but this time out of excitement. You pick your skirt up and haul yourself onto Beauford’s back, patting his neck, “Let’s be friends now.” And instincts take over.  

Beauford feels strong under you, feeling his muscles contort as he takes off bursting into the midday sun. You squint again, following the dust trail to see Leon galloping in the distance, but not too far away for you to not catch up to him. You spur him on, racing after Leon, your anxieties melting away, unable to fight off the smile that stretches your cheeks.  

You don’t see the way Leon grins, turning his attention forward and tearing into a full run. The vibrations of Beauford’s gallop thunders through your body, uncaring at how your hair is loosening from their tight hold, whipping against the wind. Laughter echoes as you bask under the hot sun, gleeful at the sensation of leather gripped tightly in your hands, taking deep lungful of unrestricted air.  

Leon begins to slow after a while, the ranch distant behind the two of you, guiding you up the small rocky hills, carefully bypassing cacti and thorny shrubbery. You fall into step next to him, feeling hot under the sun, sharing small smiles with Leon. He halts to a stop near the edge of a cliff, fixing the reigns of his horse onto a rock before coming to stand next to you, patting Beauford’s head.  

You still, watching him take the reins forward. Leon holds out his hands and you hesitate. It’s a little higher than what you’re used to, you can manage by yourself, the little voice in your head scoffing at you becoming a nuisance. His gaze halts that voice, making it disappear and you lean into him. You steady yourself on his shoulders, his hands coming to hold you by the waist, bearing your weight without a complaint, lifting you off the saddle and gently placing you on the ground.  

Leon is strong and unwavering in his motions, no betrayals of faltering, eyes fixated on the flush of your cheeks, taking note of your heaving chest. He feels strong pressed against yours, marvelling at how you feel secure in his grip, your thumbs brushing the hair on the back of his neck.  

One of his hand travels up to your face, rough fingers feather light against your cheek as he tucks your hair behind your ears. He releases you with a deep sigh, stepping away and making you miss his touch already. You shake your head, meekly following him as he comes to sit on a bench shaped rock on the edge of the hill.  

A gasp involuntarily escapes from your lips when you see the view; it’s the whole of his ranch. It's gorgeous in the deep orange hues of the sunset, the whole land visible and easy to track by the white fences, ranch hands moving about like tiny ants. The house sits on the edge, looking like a doll’s complete with a swing set that you had never noticed before. The whole land stands in the middle of tall cliffs surrounding it as if in embrace, protecting it from threats unknown.  

“I come here sometimes by myself,” Leon says, seated next to you, “It’s nice to take it all in from here.”  

“It’s gorgeous,” You whisper in wonderment. You didn’t think you’d find it so, a strong contrast to what you had seen growing up.  

Leon hums in agreement, his eyes stuck to your face as you stare at the view, your eyes wide and bulging, his heart fluttering at seeing the sparkle return to your otherwise dead gaze. He likes it, wants to keep it there. “Yeah, it is.”  

He reaches out for your hand making you jump at the unexpected contact. But you relent, allow him to pull it in his lap and intertwine it with his, your paired rings resting against one another. “I know this is far from what you’re used to but if you’ll let me...I’ll do everything in my power to never make you feel misplaced again. This all belongs to you and I hope it is enough.”  

Your heart seizes, vision getting blurry at the thought of simply being considered for. You stare at your intertwined hands, marvel at how delicately he holds you, yearning to feel more. Maybe you will learn to love this place. “This is more than I deserve.” 

Leon grips your hand tighter, giving you a serious look. “Don’t say that. You deserve everything.”  

You grow weak under his watchful gaze, his jaw locked, his dislike apparent at your words. It’s okay, he decides, you two have a whole lifetime for him to make you understand, to make you see that there is nothing more precious than you. He will bear the burden, shower you with his patience and love, slow and steady like you should have always received. He will make you understand, make you his priority, his wife never to long for anything ever again.  

He sighs, bringing your hand up to his face and gently places a kiss over your shared wedding rings. “Welcome home, my love.” 

And as the sun dips in the horizon, an unfamiliar warmth settles in your chest, quenching the longing in your heart. You realize that this is home – not the land or the house but the man who’s promises are etched in your heart.  

[h5eavenly]

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Eleven- Why is it always her?

(a/n: i was so excited about this part i had to post it as soon as i was done writing :D Enjoy!!)

TW: MENTIONS OF WEIGHT, ED AND SEXUAL ASSAULT.

wc: 4.7k(?).

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You have had a bad morning. If not the worst in a while. Your mom had gone a little crazy again. That’s how it always has been, your relationship with her was never stable. And deep down you know it will never be. but hope had always found its way into your heart. Blooming endlessly on the days where she is a little quieter, a little timid. So when you woke up this morning and saw her in the kitchen, a glass of red wine in her hand and a string of curses falling from her lips directed at one of the poor maids. The little garden of hope in your heart died as quickly as it grew.

Nonetheless you were still excited about today, the idea of finally watching the plan you have been thinking about come to life makes you all giddy.

“All done?” You ask, arms crossed on your chest as you watch Wooyoung jog towards you. A bright smile on his face and hair a cute fluffy mess on top of his head “Yes Queen.” You smile back at him as he takes his spot on the right, next to you. Leaning his head on your shoulder. He’s panting, trying to catch his breath “Good boy.” You untangle your arms, bringing your palm and caressing his cheek lovingly. And just like a cute puppy there’s a light pink tinting his cheek that he tries to hide, chuckling as he buries his head in your shoulder further.

“Are you a baby? Get off her.” Yeosang speaks from your left. Voice shamelessly dripping with venomous jealousy and a glare so dark if Wooyoung wasn’t so familiar with Yeosang harmless bullets he’d be running away by now.

“Your jealousy is showing again. Yeo.” Wooyoung spits back however with a lot less venom and more a teasing edge in his voice. He pushes it further by squeezing your arm a little harder, buries his face in your neck and watches out of the corner of his eyes as Yeosang rolls his eyes grumbling a ‘whatever’ under his breath. You end their bickering by linking your other free arm with Yeosang's “Thanks for coming Yeo, I know you hate these things.” And it’s true. Yeosang never participated in any of the little pranks you and Wooyoung liked to pull sometimes. So you were honestly surprised when Wooyoung greeted you this morning by your car with a grumpy Yeosang following right behind him.

He relaxes next to you, the few words dripping with so little sweetness seem to do the trick. "Anything for you, kitty." He replies, The frown immediately melts off his face and is replaced by a soft smile that he tries so hard to hide as well. Ducking his head as if you didn’t already catch it. Your heart can’t help but swell with harmless affection for the two boys.

“Are you sure everything is sorted out?” You ask again, eyeing Wooyoung beside you “Yeah we just wait for Yeji to appear, and the show shall begin.” He replies, eyes following the random students passing by and throwing glances at you. By now you were used to the attention, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. A pair of eyes following wherever you went happens so much that it became the new norm for you. Although the attention does seem to be intensified simply because you and your friends are never seen around campus. Or at least not as much as people would like. Usually preferring to stay indoors and away from too many prying eyes. But just for today’s show specifically you thought an audience wouldn’t hurt.

You admit your last work was sloppy, leaving evidence behind and showing up at the crime scene so shamelessly. It’s no wonder Hyunjin doubted you right away. Although he couldn’t link it to you directly but no matter how many times you denied it, it’s not gonna change the fact that it was you after all and you had foolishly gotten caught by him.

You felt the need to redeem yourself today even though your little prank is still too childish for your liking for now childish pranks are the only thing you're capable of pulling. You knew if you wanted to pull anything….hardcore. You will need Hyunjin to be somewhere far from her and that seems a little impossible now. Since for whatever reason they always seem to be stuck together.

Hyunjin is another problem, ultimately you don’t care what he thinks and you’ll keep denying everything he throws at you but that doesn’t change the fact that having him on your back constantly is annoying. And knowing him and how stubborn he is he won’t let it go until he proves it’s been you all along.

Which is why for today’s show you decided to step back, watching from afar and letting someone else do your dirty work. Nothing a little batting of your eyelashes and money couldn’t get. Wooyoung flirting did help too, he can be quite charming when he's not acting like a dork.

However, your biggest advocate is definitely that gossip account. If anything happens to Yeji and Hyunjin doubts you, you can simply blame it on his crazy fangirls. It’s not farfetched for Yeji to get targeted after being the rumored girlfriend of the prince of jyp himself.

“They’re here.” Wooyoung whispers, nudging you with his elbow. You follow where his eyes are looking and as he said there they are. Yeji and Hyunjin walking side by side.

You try not to focus on the way their hands are brushing, the way that Hyunjin looks so relaxed next to her. Blonde hair blown by the wind, he looks like a dream. A dream that you seem to have every single night and more than anything a dream that is always far away from your reach. Your heart twists painfully when Yeji laughs, throwing her head back she puts her hand on his shoulder, so casually. You can’t help but be taken back to when this was you. When you were the one walking next him, when you were the one he’s smiling at.

You don’t notice how hard your nails are digging into Yeosang’s arm until he moves it, instead taking your palm and intertwining your fingers together.

On your right, you watch Wooyoung signal to the girl he seduced earlier this morning to begin the show. She pulls up her hoodie, hiding her face behind big square glasses. Grabbing her tray that has a plate full of spaghetti sauce on and very little spaghetti on it. She makes a beeline towards Yeji. Keeping her head down and just like Wooyoung had instructed her to do she crashes right into Yeji. The contents of her plate ends up on Yeji from head to toe. Too obviously purposeful that it makes you cringe at the poor execution.

Both of the girls end up on the ground from how strong the impact of them colliding. Wooyoung starts chuckling from beside you and you can’t blame him. Yeji has sauce all over hair, dripping down the side of her and her light beige shirt is now colored maroon, she looks pathetic. Embarrassed as the students around them stop whatever they’re doing to look at them. A small crowd starts to form around them but not big enough to block your vision, wondering whispers of what's going being thrown around.

A short laugh escapes you at the sight, you have thought about it all night but seeing her in front of you like is so much more better than you could ever imagine. Wooyoung starts laughing harder and you nudge him “Shh!” you attempt to shush him with a wide grin fighting its way on your face. He purses his lips, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth “I’m trying.” He chokes out between giggles.

From this distant you can’t really hear what they’re saying but from the shaking of Yeji’s head, waving her hand around in dismissive manner you assume that she was getting apologies thrown at her.

What a stupid girl.

And just like you predicted Hyunjin is there next to her, worry evident in the furrow of his brows and his habit of puckering his lips in a manner akin to a pout that it’s adorable. It’s the same look he used to shoot your way whenever you got hurt back then. It hits you again how that could have been you. You had thought it all night, all the possible scenarios orf Hyunjin helping Yeji. The way he would react, what he would say and what kind of expression would he make.

You didn’t know why but you knew you had to prepare yourself for it. You told yourself if you thought about it long enough you won’t feel anything when it really happens. Yet seeing him there, crouched next to her still felt like a dagger was plunged into your heart. And you can't understand the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Your smile falters when again just like you predicted Hyunjin helps her stand up, a hand on her shoulder. He’s so much taller than her, so much wider that when he starts guiding her to what you assume to be the restroom. It’s like he’s shielding her from the curious and shocked stares around them.

They pass by you and Hyunjin doesn’t spare you a glance, doesn’t even notice you standing there and you don’t realize you were holding your breath until they’re out of sight. Were you waiting for him to notice you? Is that why you’re feeling hurt? Is that why you’re so bothered by the fact that he’s so busy taking care of Yeji to even notice you? But you knew this was gonna happen it's only common sense so why are you feeling this way?

Yeji had looked so pathetic, so hilariously embarrassed reeking of food yet you didn’t even feel an ounce of satisfaction because Hyunjin was next to her.

“Is your other bitch in place?” You ask Wooyoung who shoots you an offended look “She’s not my bitch.” Seeming to notice your sour mood and your dark gaze, he sighs “yeah she is waiting for Yeji in one of the stalls.”

“Good.” You reply, untangling your hand from Yeosang and start walking the same direction where Hyunjin and Yeji went “Where are you going?” Yeosang yells after you “Taking matters into my own hands. Don’t follow me.” You reply looking back at both boys to show them how serious you were being before continuing your route.

You knew you had to get this dagger out of your chest somehow. Which is why you had to talk to Yeji yourself. You don’t care if she rats you out to Hyunjin anymore. You just want this heavy feeling in your chest to be gone already. And if these childish pranks aren't doing the trick maybe talking to her directly would.

You thought you’d find Hyunjin waiting in front of the restroom for Yeji so when you get there you’re pleasantly surprised to find the halls empty. However when you twisted the doorknob open you didn’t expect to find both of them inside. And you for sure did not expect Yeji to be topless with only a black bra on, her tomato sauce covered shirt is thrown on the floor and Hyunjin’s jacket is now over her shoulder leaving him only in his plain white shirt.

She turns to look at you and her eyes are red with tears and if this was in any other situation you’d be gleaming with happiness. Heck maybe you will start laughing in her face just to watch her cry more. But your heart only grows heavier at the sight of Hyunjin cleaning her hair for her, wiping it hopelessly with tissues that definitely will not get that sauce out of it. You only grow angrier, sadder at the fact that she’s so casually topless and is surrounded with Hyunjin’s scent.

Your original plan was to come in here and unleash your anger at her, pull this stupid dagger out of your heart and plunged it into her instead, But you can’t do that. Not when Hyunjin is right there. So you knew you had to improvise.

Your nails start digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood yet you widen your eyes in fake innocence, form your lips into a pout and walk towards them. Ignoring the way Hyunjin’s eyes sharpen, gaze turning into a glare in contrast to the way he was softly looking at Yeji two seconds ago.

“What do you want Y/N?” His tone is harsh, full of venom and it’s not like you expected anything else. You ignore him “Are you okay Yeji?” you ask, feigning concern. A single tear starts rolling down her cheek, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. She looks pathetically weak. The laughing Yeji from minutes ago is long gone. And in a sick way a sliver of satisfaction makes its way up your stomach.

You lean closer to her, your hand brushing her arm. She flinches and that’s when Hyunjin pulls her towards him, his arm comes up between you as if it shield her from you “Don’t touch her.” He spits through gritted teeth. The satisfaction you felt dies right away and the same anger only builds up more at the way he’s treating you as if you were some kind of wolf that’s gonna eat his precious little pet.

But you control your composure “I’m just trying to help.” You tell him softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes but Hyunjin doesn’t even falter. The ice in his eyes remain as cold as if he sees right through your act.

“It’s okay, jinnie.” Yeji speaks out weakly from behind him, hand on his arms and you try your hardest to keep your eyes from looking down at it.

Jinnie? Just who this girl thinks she is?

“Are you okay Yeji? Do you need any clothes? I have an extra sweater in my car.” You ask when Hyunjin steps back and away from both of you. He keeps his gaze on you watching your every move and trying to analyze if you’re being sincere or if this is just another stunt you’re pulling.

“I’m okay, thanks for asking Y/N.” She wipes her tears, sniffling and pulls at Hyunjin’s jacket to cover herself with pink cheeks.

So she’s feeling shy around you but not around him? Just how much of her have he seen?

The questions roaming around your head are too suffocating.

“Should I go grab my sweater for you?” You tilt your head in an attempt to appear nicer, smiling at her and leaning down to her level since she’s a little shorter than you. but she avoids your eyes. Focusing on something on the floor. She opens her mouth to speak but Hyunjin beats her to it “She already has my jacket. She doesn’t need your clothes.” You glare back at him and you guys stare at each other silently “you expect her to walk around with your jacket only and nothing underneath?” he keeps quiet, keeps his expression blank and when you raise a challenging eyebrow at him, urging him to argue back. He tsks, looking away.

You straighten your posture. Pushing your hair back with your hand you let out a sigh “God was that girl blind? How could she not see you?” You try to make conversation feeling the tension grow thicker the longer the silence stretches. You try to not think about the fact that this tension is only present whenever you and Hyunjin are in the same room.

But you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too? Or was it one sided like everything you’ve ever felt for him?

“It’s okay. It was an unfortunate accident.” Yeji says with the same dismissive waving hands she was doing earlier. An innocent smile starting to tug at her lips as she takes some of the tissues they have piled up on the sink and starts wiping the remaining sauce on her hair.

You stare at her blankly. An unfortunate accident? It was so obviously on purpose you could tell from a mile away. Was this girl really this innocent and stupid or was she just pretending? For the first time ever you couldn’t tell.

You find yourself unable to say anything back. Your anger wavering and unstable. You look in the mirror only to find Hyunjin already staring at you. He doesn’t look away when you lock gazes in the mirror, doesn’t budge and instead you’re the one starting to feel overwhelmed by all the confusing emotions clashing inside of you. It's like overwhelming draining cycle of you getting angry only to end up sad and disappointed. It's like no matter how much you try to get your anger out, to feel better you end up feeling more miserable. Today was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to be out there with Wooyoung and Yeosang recalling the pathetic look Yeji had on her face and laughing about it.

But all these expectations die and burn into nothing as soon as you see them together and then you're left there to pick up the ash and wonder to yourself what any of this means.

You don’t realize the blue expression that takes over your face and you don’t realize how fast Hyunjin notices. How his eyes start to soften because in that small moment of vulnerability you subconsciously showed he saw flickers of the old you. The you that he had fallen for so effortlessly. His heart starts hammering in his chest and his own emotions battle against each other.

This is exactly why he hated seeing you, he hated how every time he saw you, you somehow were the same person he loved yet so different that it only built stupid hope inside of him. That maybe you weren’t some vicious and a horrible person and maybe the sweet and loving you from high school is still there somewhere. It only built stupid hope that latched onto him and squeezed any logical thinking he had.

He lets out a sigh, looking away from you and your pretty innocent eyes that only seem to drag him deeper into your darkness. He refuses to be swept away by you.

“I’ll wait for you outside okay, Ji?” he says patting on her shoulder, a friendly gesture that only turn your insides into knots twisting and twisting tighter when he passes by you. Shoulders brushing but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t even glare at you this time like you aren’t even worth any attention from him. The negative emotions take over your entire body and they start eating you from the inside.

Silence settles between you as Yeji continues cleaning her self, the only noise filling the room is the sound of running water that she soon closes “I’m sorry about Jinnie,” she speaks first, her fingers fidgeting with a piece of tissue “I heard a little bit about what happened between you two.” She says weirdly nervous. Maybe because she knows how sensitive this subject or maybe it’s the undeniable intimidation she feels towards you.

“Is that so?” Your tone is no longer dripped with cheap honey, instead it’s lifeless. Cold and perhaps that’s why Yeji finally looks at you, eyes wide and concerned. Is she scared she upset you?

“Hyunjin is not a bad person. He’s just a little hard to deal with.” She pathetically tries to explain as if you didn’t know Hyunjin first. As if you weren’t his first love, first kiss, first everything. You almost want to scoff at her. Something akin to disappointment and a lot like heartbreak pulls at every part of you when you realize none of it matters. You were first but you are nothing now.

“I know.” Is the only thing that manages to escape your mouth. You smile at her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. The bubbling anger you felt is no loner evident in your bones and you’re no longer seeing red, Instead the only thing you feel is sadness clawing at you. Suddenly the sight of Yeji crying and looking pathetic is no longer satisfying the more you remember how through it all Hyunjin was next to her. Hyunjin is kind to her, he takes care of her. Speaks to her so softly and it’s the complete opposite to the way he treats you. And for reasons you’ll never admit. It kills you.

Yeji smiles back at you awkwardly, seeming like she doesn’t know what to say. Your eyes flit across the stalls, you see one of the doors slightly ajar. Guessing that’s where Wooyoung's girl is. You decide not to interfere and let the rest of the play go as planned.

“Mhm is there something there?” Yeji asks innocently, turning to look at where you’re looking and you shake your head “I’ll let you be.” You tell her and she nods at you slowly with confusion written all over her face. You leave the restroom, closing the door you find Hyunjin waiting outside, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. You share a short look before you start walking.

“what’s your deal?” He asks when you pass by him and you stop in front of him, turning to face him. Years of hardened tension seeps into the air around you immediately. You’re sure if you breath it in it’ll choke you.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head and looking up at him, and a strand of your dark hair falls over your face. And Hyunjin tries his hardest not to stare at you but you’re so pretty. So pretty it feels criminal. Fuck he was already fighting against the urge to stare at your thighs in that short little skirt but now that he’s face to face with you in so long. It’s hard to stop his eyes from trailing over your features, lingering a second too long at your plush lips. It's not like he didn't know you were pretty, you always had been. Always had this magnetic aura around you. But god the first time he saw you again was magical, he recognized you right away and even then you still stole his breath but in a different way. You had flourished in such a pretty flower, grown more into your feminine side. He felt bitter like the universe wanted to rub it in his face how much more beautiful you had become.

“What was that with Yeji just now?” his tone is nothing like his softening eyes, mean and monotone “I was just trying to be nice” you reply with faux pureness that the both of you know does not exist in you.

He straightens, keeps his eyes on you and you can tell he knows you’re lying. It’s not like you were trying that hard to hide it. A playful smile starts tugging at your lips but it vanishes right as quick as it comes when Hyunjin is taking a step towards you, you step back a little nervous but he keeps going until your back hits the wall. His arm stretch out and his palm is flat against the wall. Caging you. You’re breathless, startled and didn’t expect him to be all up in your space all of sudden.

“I don’t like these games you’re playing, Y/N” his eyes alight with pure hatred and another emotion mixed in there yet your heart hammers against your ribcage wildly, almost like it’s begging to be let out.

“I-I’m not playing any games.” You argue weakly, almost cringe at yourself for stuttering and if anything you just want to disappear because Hyunjin’s lips tilt in a smirk, suddenly taking in the situation you guys are in. He does admit that his inflated ego only grows at the sight of the unattainable Y/N blushing and avoiding his gaze.

“You seem a little nervous,” he comments sarcastically, tapping his index finger on your chin and you slap his hand away. Looking up at him with a glare that is not threatening one bit “You’re all up in my space I can’t breath.” You attempt to push him away with your hands on his chest, ignoring how hard it feels but Hyunjin doesn’t budge, Doesn’t move a single step and he keeps his eyes locked on you. Watching in amusement as you try to break from him. In that moment his mind runs wild and he can finally understand why Yeosang and Wooyoung call you kitty all the time. It suits you so well. You look just like cat fighting for their owner’s attention.

At the silence you look up at Hyunjin with a glare again, a string of curses dies on your lips when you notice that he’s unfocused. Instead his eyes are fixated on your thighs, the dark hatred in his eyes is slowly melting into lust and the lines are blurring between you two. You’re blushing, overwhelmed and confused by the way he’s acting but more than anything you’re confused by the flash of scalding heat that his stare sends through your body.

Your hands fall to your thighs, palms flat against them in a poor attempt to cover them up. Hyunjin notices, lets out a scoff and looks at you “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in you or your body.” His voice drips in mockery and your face burns in embarrassment and anger. You gather enough strength to push him again and this time he steps back, that same stupid smirk on his lips “Fuck off.” You grumble, pressing the back of your hand on your lips. Another poor attempt to hide your red face. Hyunjin can’t help but chuckle because he can’t take you seriously not when you look so much like an angry kitten. He couldn’t understand how he went from wanting to kill you to wanting to devour you in mere seconds. A part of him liked that though, he liked the fact that you always acted all high and mighty but was a blushing mess the moment he was a little too close to you.

If he knew how easy it was to break you he’d have tried this a long time ago.

Just then the door of the restroom busts open, slamming loudly against the wall and breaking whatever bubble the two of you were in. A girl runs out, almost tripping but picks herself right up and starts sprinting away. A disheveled Yeji follows, a panicked look on her face with Hyunjin’s now zipped jacket on her “H-hyunjin!” she starts crying and Hyunjin is by her side right away. Ignoring the fact that you were there again. Like he wasn't just staring at you like he wanted you moments ago “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asks frantically, hands on her shoulders and eyes scanning her body “someone-“ she chokes on her tears, a sob wrecking through her body “someone was trying to take pictures of me while I was undressing” it all happens in a blur, Hyunjin yelling something in anger that you block out and then he’s running after the girl. While Yeji stands there crying. She looks at you and you don’t know what kind of expression you have on. But she’s terrified and for some reason in that moment you know she somehow figured out you were behind all of this.

You watch as she starts walking away, running after Hyunjin as well. You stand there and think about everything, in the end everything went perfectly according to plan. Everything happened exactly like how you imagined, just like how you and Wooyoung talked. You embarrassed Yeji in front of countless students, made her cry and if anything she seems scared of you now. It's exactly what you wanted yet you don't feel good at all. In fact your heart feels heavier than ever and there's tears threatening to fall the longer you stand there.

You can’t help but feel like a piece of trash that has been tossed aside for something better, something nicer.

That night when you’re back home, you find your mom in the kitchen another glass of wine in her hand and a mess of papers on the kitchen island in front of her “What’s all this?” you ask, walking to stand next to her.

“Did a background check on your father’s little….” She staring blankly at the wall, eyes empty “little side entertainment.” She finishes. It’s specially moments like these that make you feel sorry for her. She’s just a woman who fell in love with a man who didn’t love her back. How ironic. You think to yourself as you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her. Head resting on her shoulder. She doesn’t really move nor hug you back. You didn’t remember the last time she hugged you back.

“I’m sorry mommy.” You whisper softly, and she pats your hands in cold touches that are loveless “are you still following your diet, Y/N?”

You nod against her shoulder “Yes mommy.” She sighs, untangling herself from your embraces and drinks the remaining last bits of her wine “Her daughter weighs 2.5 kgs less than you, so we need to work hard yeah?” she says cupping your cheeks and looks at you for the first time today, you force a smile on despite the feeling of your heart breaking for the second time today “Yes mommy.” You reply like you always do and she never smiles back and her hands are always so cold but you don’t flinch “Good girl.” She compliments emotionlessly and she leaves you there, alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. You bite your lips to stop your tears from falling, telling yourself not matter how shitty you felt today you will not cry but then you look down at all the papers laid in front of you and despite all the expectations you had for today you didn’t expect a picture of Yeji to be smiling back at you.

Why is it always her?

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Synopsis: It girl, Queen Bee the most popular girl around campus Song Y/N was envied by everyone. She has it all, money, the looks and brains. After making a bet with her bestfriend Yeosang her life takes a turn to the worse, seeming to lose everyone around her she doesn't expect the only person to stick by her side to be her Ex-first love and long time enemy - Hwang Hyunjin.

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Masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah , @christopherisfoive , @realrintaro , @kkamismom12 , @nujeskz , @wolfietara , @luvvvash , @teenageshepherdpeachfan , @asiixc , @shyshyshytwice , @samhomo , @babrieeee , @nhyunn

[nqmonarch]

For the request, can I please have yandere Black Swan x fem or gn reader x yandere Sparkle headcanon as the poly relationship? Basically Sparkle and Black Swan are working together to get their darling.

Yeah of course! Sorry for the late response! I also started this before current quest came out (2.1 I think, the one that focuses on Aventurine) so sorry if I missed anything that came out recently!

CW: Yandere themes (it isn't super heavy I think), Memory manipulation, kidnapping that isn't viewed as kidnapping by the kidnappee

To start with is always the question of how Black Swan and Sparkle become interested in you, such a strange duo both with different goals and aspirations yet absolutely threatening while working together.

You were a very simple person but also infinitely complex, like most people. But rather than keep the complexities of your life close to yourself and the ones you cared for, you wore your life on your sleeve. One moment you'd be distracted by ooo-- pretty fish nice bright and orange and--. Oh right the drink in front of you is also pretty nice but the moment you drink it, it'll be gone forever. It won't matter, and will be forgotten in your own mind, and the mind of the world. In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter in the slightest, just like your life. Unless if it's a super good drink.

And look there's a pretty lady following the pretty fish! Actually it looks like the fish are swimming around her, maybe in the dream scape you're permanently under the sea. You don't really like the sea though, actually it's okay. You've just been a thousand meters deep before and at that point the pressure kills, you didn't die but it wasn't pleasant. Thankfully, gear was upgraded pretty well, which is expected for a city under water. There were also many beautiful creatures down there that you were lucky to see and lots of rocks, there weren't fish like the fish around the pretty lady though-- and she's gone.

What a shame, you would've loved to introduce yourself to her. Now, your drink demanded your attention and you had to oblige.

And that was the first time you met Sparkle.

You were someone that could admire Sparkle and not only indulge but enjoy her games and give her the attention she wanted. And after you ended up accidentally joining a scene you weren't supposed to be in and participating in her murder mystery game, she realized how good the attention felt.

Black Swan was someone who would observe a puzzle from the outside and would play along with the puzzle but truly be trying to deconstruct the person behind the puzzle.

You, on the other hand, were someone who would know it's a puzzle yet, devote your all to something you knew wasn't real. How silly, but how... cute? Sparkle's thoughts surprised even her, she had always been into toppling over more composed people. But you were composed in a different way. You were passionate but controlled, excited but not often upset, like a river flowing rapidly leaving waves in the air but not leaving it's boundaries unnecessarily.

Your unexpected participation in the murder mystery was exactly what drew Black Swan's interest as well. Your attention was changing from detail to detail each minute and when the time came to guess who Sparkle was. You foolishly guessed Sparkle's body-- and you were right. Black Swan should've figured out the fool would've pulled something like this, Sampo was too obvious of an answer.

Your excitement at the truth was genuine from the way your entire face brightened up to the way you began to hop excitedly in place. "See? Sampo's too nice to kill someone!" She thought your reasoning was still wrong though.

Sampo was pretty cool, he seemed like a scum bag but that didn't mean he'd kill someone he was still too nice to do that. Also he didn't act interested enough in the murder to be Sparkle. If you killed someone you'd be really interested in how the detective solved the murder, it'd be like a fun little game! But you wouldn't do that, most people didn't deserve to die and the ones that did probably wouldn't die by your hand-- and what if you were wrong you'd be better off sending them to jail and hoping they'd reform instead and someone just said something to you that you missed oh shit, hopefully you won't get yelled at.

Oh wait that wasn't directed at you that's just Sparkle trying to get Black Swan to-- wait Black Swan's a memokeeper?! That's sick! Your eyes shined as you looked at the elegant woman with new found respect. A shame Sparkle got rejected, you'd invite her to dance but she probably wouldn't want to dance with you.

"Miss Black Swan," You piped up looking at the veiled woman excitedly and she turned to you with a slight smile. Perhaps, she'd erase your memory, memokeepers were rather secretive right?

None the less you'd rather say what you wanted to say, "Thank you for your work. No memories deserve to be lost, even though one day they will all be lost as we all inevitably die... but that's a while from now! There's so much beauty that needs to be preserved but will inevitably be forgotten. If only we could all share in it, but I understand you likely have your reasons."

If only memokeepers could share all they knew, wouldn't the knowledge of that help humanity immensely? But the weight of memories isn't to be taken lightly, you reminded yourself. All of the pain everyone experienced had to be remembered as well. Because to forget is to repeat.

Her honey eyes took the shape of crescents, "Thank you, dear," her voice sounded like honey too, enough so that you felt your ears grow red at the term of endearment, "Fear not, cherished memories will be preserved from true oblivion."

You blinked, once, twice, "But at some point doesn't there have to be nothing? That's why it's important not just to protect such memories but also make them. Because all we really have is tomorrow. Well, I suppose the only guaranteed thing I have is tomorrow-- actually I could die in the next second so all I have is right now. But memories, at some point wouldn't they have to become nothing as well?"

You paused for a moment before continuing, walking away from Black Swan, "I guess there's no way to know until the end. So when you know whether or not even they become nothing, I'll be waiting, curious, to hear your answer."

That was a fun time. You solved a fake murder, met two pretty ladies, and- oh you won't be alive to hear Black Swan's answer what a shame-- OH! You wondered if they had the once in millennium memory of the ten moon solar eclipse where you could see them all because the smallest moons were the closest to the planet. What a beautiful sight, shame that planet was pretty much deserted. You'd just been lucky to get to see it, you had a research grant or something. Righttt to get samples of that one man eating flower, the cool part was that its flowers contained traces of metal, particularly gold.

Huh, how'd that work? Not like it mattered you were just suppose to get a sample. You wondered if the Garden of Recollection how memories of that plant. You wondered if they had memories of a world slowly dying out, of its last flower crumpling to stony surface.

And with that Black Swan was left looking at your back as you walked away. You were an interesting person. She'd keep an eye out for you but in the meantime the Astral Express seemed to be having some troubles she'd have to prioritize first.

Then, you ran into Sparkle again. This time you were able to strike up a conversation with her. She seemed like a friendly person, albeit she did almost get you killed but such is the way with pranks! All's fair in love and games! And what was life if not a game? Plus you got to see her pretty fish. You wanted one. You didn't think you'd be able to take good care of a fish though, you were already struggling to take care of yourself.

You had a few more run ins with Sparkle and played her games much to her delight! Each time she felt herself growing more excited, would you die if the game required it? You put such care into each moment but even when it resulted in nothing you laughed it off. It was annoying at times, as if anything she planned didn't matter. But when your eyes lit up at solving a puzzle those thoughts were dissuaded.

And even better was how your eyes lit up when they saw her.

How Sparkle preened under your praise. She was sure her games were getting even better with such encouragement and an eager participant! She almost forgot why she came to Penacony in the first place but, she unfortunately had a job. At least the job was fun! Once she was done she'd come and pick you up, she was certain you'd love to come along with her!

Coincidentally when Sparkle had to get more focused on her work you met the beautiful memokeeper again. You greeted her gracefully, your face obviously excited to see her again, and she invited you to a dance..? Sure! Hadn't Sparkle wanted to dance with Black Swan earlier though? Black Swan must've just been busy then, you weren't sure you knew there was something bigger going on behind the scenes but you didn't care much. This was your vacation! Complete freedom to go around and have fun and embrace all the beautiful sights.

Her hand rested snugly on your waist and you didn't resist from leaning into it. You enjoyed the occasional comforts of life, everything is temporary after all. Even if you'd never see Sparkle or Black Swan after this it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the companionship they offered you. "I thought you were too busy to dance," You commented offhandedly, eyes glancing down to her feet every few moments.

Black Swan hummed, appearing a bit confused at first before her vision cleared, "I had another partner but it appears that I got ahead of myself."

"That's always a shame," You replied with a comforting nod. You weren't sure what happened but it can be disappointing when things don't work out, "Still, unexpected results lead to new potential options and that's always fun." You smiled at Black Swan trying to console her as you squeezed her hand gently.

"I suppose you're right," She hummed voice low, eyes rested on you as if always examining you-- oh that's right! You wouldn't forget this time!

You averted your eyes from hers, "I don't mean to be presumptuous but..." Wasn't it arrogant to offer a memory to her? You were sure she'd seen of all kinds of memories, but... you still wanted to offer. "I've traveled a bit and been lucky enough to see some rare sights. I know you've seen a lot but if there's anything particular you want to see, I may have seen it."

That didn't come off as too arrogant right? Honestly, you'd be honored to have a memokeeper keep any of your memories and preserve them but having one look at them was an honor as well.

To your surprise Black Swan didn't reject your idea, at first her eyes widened a bit before relaxing as a sort of fondness entered them, "I've been quite curious myself. I won't intrude, dear." Your bodies remained in motion as she gazed into your eyes and the dance didn't stop.

After Black Swan's experience with Acheron she planned knew not to enter past memories lightly. But, you'd offered up so sweetly and with such hope in your eyes how couldn't she agree? She was curious as well, albeit she wasn't drawn to you like a moth to flame but there was always those lingering thoughts. You were transparent but your words open as they were seemed to lack a clear motive. She wouldn't dig too deeply into your memories just to be safe.

Your memories were clear they were orderly, each having their own place but always moving like an orderly line. Every few moments one would fall out of place and breeze by before finding a new place and the rest would adjust to accommodate it. Black Swan entered one, and immediately felt content. A sunset reached out and covered the landscape in a golden glow, many different kinds of flowers built up human shaped statues, and a soft blanket rested under her palms.

How pleasant, and new... She hadn't been here before, it had a sunset something you could see nearly everywhere but each individual detail added a sense of freshness. She entered another memory, and another. Was there nothing but joy and content in your life?

Each memory was a pleasant feeling that washed over her and kept her warm. She didn't want to leave. In a sense it was more dangerous than Acheron's memories which had tried to devour her bite by bite. But this was a lure, a sweet world with nothing but beauty as if it wanted to trap Black Swan forever. She entered another memory, which had been moving along pleasantly.

Peace washed over Black Swan and she felt her shoulders slump down, as she saw a sun take up half the space of the sky. A single flower to the left crumple onto stone. The death of a world. What had you been doing here?

Why... despite the lack of life and everything was it still so peaceful and warm. As if the act of death was one of beauty. As of with you everything was worthy of joy. Your memories were deceiving, Black Swan noted. She wanted to find a painful one, there had to be at least one, right?

And there were several, far out numbered by the golden soft ones that immersed her in feelings of ecstasy. But after being pampered with such rich memories, and after having almost been devoured by some (Acheron's) Black Swan couldn't bring herself to enter the pain. She would later, but for now she'd be safe, she wouldn't intrude.

At some point during the dance you began to feel cold. You kept an appropriate distance from Black Swan and was sure she didn't notice the way you leaned into her body slightly more. But after a few minutes of the non-stop dancing you felt her hand let go of yours and move around your back to hold you close.

"Thank you," Her voice held warmth in it that you hadn't heard from her before.

"It's beautiful right?" You weren't sure what memory she'd seen but you had many that were pleasing, although you were sure a memokeeper's expectations were higher than yours. Honestly, you could drink a good drink and that would be enough of a pleasing memory for you. Speaking of which you had a wonderful drink the first time you saw Sparkle, you should go get that again.

Black Swan looked into your eyes, a gentle smile on her face, "It is." And for once you felt slightly uncomfortable, as if you didn't understand what she was saying completely. But you brushed it off, you didn't understand after all you didn't know what memories she saw.

Black Swan truly thought you were a sight to behold. A gem, she'd almost missed out. And as she saw you dancing with Sparkle, Black Swan recognized you were a beauty she'd almost lost.

Somehow Sparkle had found out about you dancing with Black Swan and had demanded a dance. Of course she hadn't said it outright instead it was a part of a game. In order to sneak into some "evil castle" the two of you attended a ball in which you pretended to be normal guests but would likely later sneak off to what Sparkle proclaimed as "behind the stage." Coincidentally Penacony also had a dance right now, making the atmosphere perfect.

Of course, there was no evil castle, or grand scheme but it was a fun game. Sparkle dragged you between couples, keeping your bodies forever in a sway. She'd twirl into your arms and rest her head on your chest, tilting her head up with a foxish grin on her face. How precious. You'd let out a laugh, and then bring her into a dip.

Then she'd wring her hands around your neck, keeping it still, but not hurting you in the slightest, and a warm feeling would touch your lips. That... That wasn't right. But you might as well indulge in the moment, your time here was coming to a close. Every dream eventually had to end.

You leaned forward, eyes closed, and mind completely focused on the lips on yours. They were warm and soft, and although at first they'd been rather tentative at your reciprocation they pressed closer and Sparkle leaned closer to you as well.

Black Swan hadn't been expecting to see that. Of all of the things she was expecting today, this was the one she expected the least. Her fingers rested on her thigh as she gazed at the pair which was now dancing again. As much as she wanted to approach she remained stagnant, this event was just about to begin after all.

Even if Black Swan did interrupt even she wasn't sure of what she would say or do. Was she upset that the little lady had kissed her dear? Or was Black Swan upset that you had danced with her little lady. Perhaps, she was just feeling a bit excluded, but she hadn't felt this way since before she was a memokeeper.

Black Swan didn't have time to dwell on her feelings because the next moment your body had been impaled. You lurched forward, pushing Sparkle away as you for some reason tasted water rather than blood in your mouth. You let out a choked cough and crumpled to your knees, barely able to feel the pain. You wanted to run but-- it was all over now wasn't it? You'd never died before.

This hadn't gone to plan, was the first thing Sparkle realized. She might've gotten too distracted by you, and now she paid the price. Your dying face was new and beautiful but, she had a sinking realization she didn't want to see this again. Since this was a dream it'd be fine and her smile came quite easy to her, the laugh came out even easier.

How fun. But if you were dead then the fun would end wouldn't it? It seemed like Sparkle would have to take the stage after all and it seemed like her dear memokeeper was inclined to too.

You woke up, clothes sticking to your body, and jolted out of the water pod. You were alive. That was good, you still hadn't gotten that drink you liked here again. You got up from the pod, pulling your damps clothes off and replacing them with dry ones. What a bad end to a dream, you only had a few days left here too. You eyed the pod nervously, you didn't exactly want to revisit it now either. Maybe you'd leave Penacony a bit early.

Your hand drifted down to your stomach, there was no hole in it. What had stabbed you anyway? It's not like it mattered now. You walked out of your room, face more uneasy than normal. It was a shame you'd be leaving without bidding those beautiful women goodbye.

Before setting off for your next adventure you sat down at the bar and ordered a drink similar to the one you had in the dream world. It tasted slightly sweeter. How nice, even nicer were the lights on the ceiling. Intricately decorated. And the individual next to you was beautiful as well, with long lilac hair.

"It's pleasant to see you again Dear." Her voice was soft and adoring, eyes as sweet as honey.

You blinked in surprise, "Black Swan!" A smile grew on your face, you didn't think she would bother to make herself visible in the real world to you.

"Boo!" A smaller hand rested on your shoulder as a lighter voice whispered in your ear suddenly. You jolted upward, and felt warmth flood across your face.

"Sparkle!" You greeted her with as much enthusiasm as you hid Black Swan, her hands glided across your chest and onto your opposite shoulders holding you in a hug.

Black Swan examined the two of you, a smile remaining on her face affectionately. It felt strange. Like you were intruding on a scene, like you weren't meant to be here. "Little lady, don't go overboard. I'm sure our dear is already feeling overwhelmed after all that's happened." Her glove hand brushed against your cheek.

Okay. You didn't know how to deal with this. When two women out of your league were so physically close. It wasn't that you weren't a catch yourself just, a memokeeper and Sparkle was beyond gorgeous herself. Maybe if you just stayed still they'd go away.

Sparkle poked your cheek and you remained perfectly still. And who could blame you? This was a bit overwhelming. You had just died what felt to be a few moments ago anyway and that... that wasn't pleasant. It was new but for once you wanted to go in your room and just sleep it off, or adventure until you forgot about it or distorted it into a memory of beauty.

"...Hey, you're not broken yet, right? There's so much fun to be had!" Sparkle's voice sounded worried at first before turning into her usual enthusiastic tone. You could feel her breath against your ear, the warmth of her arms around you, and the sudden loss of Black Swan's hand against your cheek.

Black Swan let out a gentle sigh, "I suppose it'd be too much to hope for you to be immediately the same after that." Her gaze was pitying to which you lifted an eyebrow.

"Well having experienced death does that," You muttered, "It'll disappear with time." Your words were nonchalant despite the severity of what had happened, and you shrugged Sparkle's arms off or at least you tried to.

Instead the smaller girl linked her hands around your waist and pressed her face against your back, "Now, that's the spirit!" She cheered, "What should we do next?" She paused, "Oh! Let's get into the Genius Society! I wanna impersonate a genius! And you, can have Black Swan whisper you the answers!"

Ooo that actually sounded pretty fun, the Genius Society even you had never been able to seen behind their walls. Wait-- you had work to do though, work which would thankfully let you see rare sights. Although you were pretty sure your next job was one of the less savory ones, the planet you were heading to was torn apart by war. War was such a disgusting thing, leaving behind only murder in its path. But from all the dead bodies one day would spring flowers.

You could've been one of those bodies. Although you doubted any flowers would be able to grow in the dream pod you'd been sleeping in. Your body wouldn't have even been beautiful in the end. That's what will happen if you get complacent, like you were on vacation.

"That does sound fun," You admitted gazing over your shoulder to Sparkle, "But, my break is over! Things to do, people to meet, you know how it is." Sparkle's arms froze around you and you lightly brushed them off, getting up from the bar stool.

When you went to leave it was Black Swan who stopped you, arm resting on your shoulder, and pulling you close as if to embrace you, "Remember Dear, you have to rest. It's been a lot hasn't it? Would you like me to walk you back to your room?" She offered politely, and you smiled graciously in response.

"Thanks! But, I didn't really pack much. I was planning to just head out, actually. I'm happy I got to see the both of you again though!" You rested one hand on Black Swan's bicep, squeezing it affectionately, and the other on Sparkle's head, gently patting her hair and then running your hand down to her neck.

This had been a fun journey, despite... your death. It wasn't really a death it was in the dream world but maybe whether or not it was real didn't matter. But how it effected you did. So as long as you changed the effect it would be okay. Your dream world death was a new and wonderful experience-- yeah that just didn't sit right with you. The lighting seemed off in the room for a moment as Sparkle jumped up from her chair and walked over to you, presumably for a hug.

You'd been hugged out but it was likely the last time you'd see her, and a bit of indulgence in the warmth she offered wouldn't hurt you. But her knocking you out did.

Black Swan let out an aggrieved sigh, "Did you have to do that?" For once some annoyance seeped into her voice. "I thought you would like the chase," She then mentioned offhandedly.

"It's the most fun part," Sparkle remarked looking at your body on the floor a smile on her face, "But how are you supposed to chase someone's that's dead? ...That ends the game. It'd be great if the fun could last forever! So why can't it?" She let out a laugh, that was less out of amusement and more out of clinging onto the little sanity she had left.

"You're worried," Black Swan kneeled down, and put one arm around her shoulder as your other arm was placed around Sparkle's.

Sparkle turned to Black Swan, still smiling, "Of course! I don't want to miss out on all of the fun!"

You couldn't help but laugh even if it was at your own detriment. It seemed like Sparkle had finally found you, "Took you long enough!" You teased her, the sun remained low in the sky. You forced your shoulders to relax, they were oddly tense.

A bird fluttered above the two of you, resting on a tree branch. "All I hear is a sore loser, I still caught you!" Sparkle's voice was filled with glee as she linked your arms together, "You're mine now, okay!"

"I always have been," You responded to your lover staring at the sun that would forever remain in its Golden Hour, "...You know, I've always wanted to leave home..." You admitted, you wondered when Black Swan would be back. It wasn't quite the same without her.

Thankfully you didn't have to wonder for long as you saw the beautiful woman stepped out of the house. You began to tremble when you saw her. You wondered why... Perhaps out of excitement? If it was anyone else you would've guessed that your trembling was out of fear.

Black Swan walked over to the two of you, practically gliding, "Are you ready to leave now?" She asked you gently, to which your face became alit with excitement, "I suppose Sparkle and I do have to leave soon anyway," Black Swan let out a mellow sigh, "Would you like to join us?"

You didn't think even for a second, "Of course!" You ran to embrace Black Swan, feeling her chest move against yours with every breath.

You'd always wanted to leave the Golden Hour, and to be able to leave with your two new lovers seemed like the best thing that could happen! Perhaps you'd be able to see some fish at the bottom of the sea, or a world die, or some of Sparkle's fun pranks! But you were happiest to stay by their side. That was all that mattered, after all they were the ones who brought light into your life.

Keeping you safe had come at a cost, but all good things require a little sacrifice. You'd still be the same person just without the same parts, well memories. It didn't matter anyway you'd have plenty of memories to replace the ones which had been altered and lost.

Black Swan would fill you with more honeyed memories and Sparkle would bring color to them all.

A free bird sings better than a caged one. And even though the singing was exactly what attracted them in the first place, it'd be better to keep you safe, right where they can see you. But if that bird stops to sing then maybe they'll have to let out. Or make it believe that it was let out by keeping it in a dream. So that even once it wakes up from the dream it'll still believe it's free.

ANYWAY WHILE I WAS IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING THIS I SENT IT TO MY FRIEND ALL PEEPOSHY HEY U WANNA READ IT (first fanfic of mine they would have read that isn't about our friends). AND DISCORD DID THE DUMBASS THING OF SENDING IT IN A .TXT SO I WAS LIKE: aw man don't worry about it

anyway this mf reads it anyway scrolling right and left and down bcus the .txt format is SO bad I straight up just copy pasted it idk why discord was being so bitchy. And like-- they read it so fucking kind and nice :) im blessed with good friends

Per usual I am realizing how infinitely shitty I am at writing head canons (everything just turns into a fic) if this wasn't to your liking send a request and I can try to amend it to more just ideas but generally by the time I get started on the first question (what makes them interested in you) it's already a story and I forgot I was answering a request.

My big idea for this one were strongly inspired by how Black Swan remarks that Sparkle is like a child, as she always seems to be craving affection/approval, and that makes her easy to please. Also Sparkle is so hard to write like her dialogue is chaotic but it's like held within a line idk it's weird I was trying to mimic it but I don't think it came out too well. Also I wanted to add more Black Swan x Sparkle but it just didn't work out that way when I was writing it, don't blame me I can't control what I write (you can blame me).

[bloodhoundluke]

you, forever —❦ luke hemmings

pairing: luke hemmings x ex! reader

description: y/n seems to be finally over luke, but what does she do when he shows up declaring his love for her in the pouring rain? this was requested with the prompts #4 "Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry” & #2 “Don’t do this to me” from my prompt list.

warnings: luke being a shitty boyfriend, a break up. angst. slight mentions of insomnia and disordered eating. cursing. a happy ending.

word count: 3,5k.

a/n: now that i am happy with this fic, it's time to publish it! the beginning of this story was heavily inspired by the song ‘moment i knew’ by taylor swift. i hope you like this one! ❤️‍🩹

The broken promises, the events unattended. His lame excuses. They grew a dagger in your heart, which stung time and time again. Your 23rd birthday was no exception. 

You hosted a party to celebrate your birthday. You never threw any parties, they weren’t really your scene. Luke was supposed to be there with you, his hands around your waist, wishing you a happy birthday. Against your wishes and his promises, he wasn’t there. Not on time, anyway.  Somehow you thought it’d be different this time. Did he even love you like he claimed he did? Did he even care about you? Hell, you even wondered if he was sleeping with someone behind your back. 

You tried to have fun, you really did. But as the night dragged on and you chugged down way too many tequilas, you bursted into tears in your bathroom. How could someone, your sorry excuse of a boyfriend, make you feel like this on your god-damn birthday?

It was 4am when Luke showed up behind your front door, and you foolishly opened the door for him. The party was over, and you couldn’t even bear to look him in the eye. It was the same old story, I am so sorry baby, we had to work around a few things in the studio. I love you, let me make it up to you. I promise I’ll do better next time. 

You didn’t say a single thing to him as you let him in. Luke went to the bathroom, and as soon as he was out of your sight, tears began streaming down your face. You stood in your kitchen, and looked around. The alcohol-stained balloons, empty beer cans and the remains of confetti reminded you of your relationship with Luke. Sad, broken, bruised.

You sobbed and sobbed, hard enough not to notice Luke walking next to you.

"Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry”, he offered you his embrace, which you swore once was warm. And which was something you once wanted more than anything in the world. 

You sobbed against his chest. This was the last straw, you promised yourself. You didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore. You had turned a blind eye to his mistakes, always holding onto some tiny glimmer of hope he would change. You defended him time and time again to your friends and family. You loved him more than you loved yourself, and that seemed to be your greatest mistake. 

“Don’t do this to me”, you whimpered under his touch, still feeling the endless rivers building up in your eyes.  “Do what?”, he proposed the question as if he didn’t have a clue what was going on. His eyebrows frowned, and he bit his bottom lip. You couldn’t believe it really had come to this. You receded from his embrace, breaking the skin contact. 

“Pretend everything’s fine. Pretend we’ll be okay”, you swept your tears away, and saw the mascara stains on your hands. You swept them away with the helm of your dress, and wondered what was going through Luke’s mind. Did he even feel bad for missing your birthday party? Did he even understand how terribly he treated you?

“Y/N…”., he enunciated your name as if it was a warning, if there was some line you couldn’t cross.

“You knew this was doomed from the start. You played me along, Luke. I mean, fuck! I thought everything would change. I thought you loved me enough not to miss my own fuckin’ birthday!”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it”.

“I’m sorry too”, you avoided direct eye contact with him, and left the kitchen with nothing but disappointment and anger. He didn’t even bother to come after you. 

And that was the moment you knew. 

—❦

The morning approached, and you executed your usual morning routines, only this time with a quicker pace. You could do this, you told yourself. You’ll be okay.

Luke was still sleeping, and you gathered his things from your apartment. The spare t-shirts and underwear. His toothbrush, his Vespa mug. Everything. You wanted to make this as smooth as possible. Not necessarily for him, but for you. You didn’t want him to stay around any longer than necessary. Sleeping with him last night was a mistake, even if you took all the anger into bed with you. You hated and loved him at the same time.

So, when you heard him shuffling in bed, you entered the room and leant against the door with a coffee mug in your hand. 

“Hey darling”, he smirked. The man had no idea. You forced a smile, and waited until he was decent and in his Pink Floyd t-shirt and black sweatpants. 

“Luke?”.

“Hmmm?”.

“I packed up your things, they are waitin’ for you in the hallway. I want you gone. Out of my life”.

—❦ 

The beginning was the hardest. The silent screams in the pillow, the loss of appetite. Your sobs echoed through every room in your apartment. There was no escaping him. His eyes, the prettiest blue eyes you had ever witnessed, haunted you wherever you went. Even the god-damn Rainbow Krispies yelled out his name. 

You carried his silent optimism with you, his voice reminding you everything would work out just fine. You begged the voice to stop time and time again, but it persisted, clung onto you tightly. 

For the first three months you couldn’t even say his name out loud, yet alone hear it coming from someone else’s mouth. It sounded wrong, the way they said it. Luke was supposed to come from your mouth, with your accent, with your tone of voice.

Slowly but surely, you started to see the world through realism-infused glasses. You didn’t think about him the first thing in the morning and the last thing before going to bed. You were okay. You didn’t need his love. Instead, you needed your own. A glimpse of hope was staring at you, you just hadn’t seen it before. 

—❦ 

The past few years had treated you well, and you had gotten the job of your dreams. Everything was moving smoothly, and you were excited for what the future held for you. You were still living in the same apartment, but you had renovated it to look more like you. The white living room walls were now replaced with the beautiful shade of juniper, and your decor had shifted from a Scandinavian style to a more earthly and antique-appreciating English countryside.

You had stayed out of relationships. Sure, you had gone to a few dates, but you never wanted to build anything serious with them. You considered them more like irregular hook-ups, not official dates. You decided to be on your own. You had everything you needed; friends, family and a job you enjoyed.

You were returning from work, and it was pouring rain. You held an umbrella over your head whilst Bon Iver was blasting through your AirPods. Thankfully it was a short walk to your apartment from the metro station.

A figure of a man, supposedly, sat in front of your apartment complex. Maybe he was lost. Maybe he forgot his keys inside. Maybe he was a creep. Shit. You grabbed your umbrella tighter as you reached him. 

And then you understood. Dark pants. A worn out leather jacket. Converse. Light, curly hair. A beautiful face, sculpted by the gods, was staring at you. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be.

Luke.

It really was him.

You glared at him, and took your earphones off in shock, placing them in their case. Luke got up from the staircase, and you both stared at each other for a while. 

The rain was pouring down, and the man hadn't even bothered to bring an umbrella with him. He pulled his soaking wet hair back with his hands and you couldn't understand why your ex-boyfriend was voluntarily hanging out in front of your apartment complex, in a weather like this.

“What are you doing here?”, you quivered and held your bag tightly against your body.

“I’m here to get my girl back”, he shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets, and studied your face with a somewhat melancholic smile on his face.

“What are you talkin’ about?”, you asked, your tone nonchalant.

“I’m here to get you back. Or attempt it, I don’t know. I fucked up, Y/N, big time. And many times. And-”

Didn't he think it was a bit too late for that? “Luke, stop”, you interrupted him. You didn’t want to hear it, he had smashed your heart into pieces. He didn’t get to apologize to you. You didn’t want him to have any power over you. And it wasn’t fair how he showed up and reminded of his existence, just now when you were finally ready to open your heart to someone new. 

“Y/N, please? Hear me out”.

“Fuck you”, you cursed at him, and pondered walking away from him. But you stood in your place, hoping he could see the hurt on your face. 

“Okay, I deserved that. Is there more?”, he tilted his head slightly, and his eyes bored into yours.

“What do you mean?”, you gritted your teeth.

“Just fuckin’ yell at me, get it out of your system. Curse at me, tell me the things you hate about me”.

“If you came here for this, leave…please”, you begged. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t. I’m sorry. Shit. Uh…just give me a second, hear me out”.

“Okay”. You’d hear what he had to say, and then you’d leave him in the pouring rain. And you wouldn’t see him ever again. That was the plan.

“I, I know this might not mean anything to you, after I treated you, but it has always been you, Y/N. After all these years, you are the only one I have ever truly loved. Hell, I still love you. I still remember your favorite songs and the way you like your tea. How you like your eggs in the morning, and how you hate almond milk…And shit, I just, I need to get this off my chest. I am, still, so foolishly in love with you it’s unbearable. I want you, I want us back”.

You looked at him with sorrow in your eyes. When you tried to say something, the words escaped your lips, leaving you powerless.

As tumultuous your and Luke’s relationship was and despite the times you convinced yourself you hated him, you still caught yourself missing him and the relationship sometimes. But this…this felt a bit too much for you to handle right now.

“Say something, please….Anything”.

“I don’t know Luke. I mean, you hurt me. Time and time again. I don’t know if I want to go through that pain again”.

“I know”, he sighed. “Do you still love me?”.

“Despite everything, yes”, you sighed.

“So isn’t it obvious? If you love me, and I love you? Doesn’t that mean we should give it another go?”.

“But sometimes love isn’t enough, Luke. Love doesn’t fix everything, I thought you knew that”.

“I know you are cautious, and I don’t blame you. I put you through hell, I know. And if this makes me sound like a broken record, so be it… I fuckin’ love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. Just you. Nothing will change that. Not even the years in between that I haven’t seen you. Not even the fact that I am not the same person who I was those years ago, when I treated you like shit. When I made you cry every night. I remember it well, Y/N, I haven’t forgotten. It seems you are impossible to forget”.

“I think you are impossible to forget too, Luke”, you sighed again. “I just….I don’t really know what to say to you. I don’t even know what’s going inside my head right now. I…I need a moment to figure everything out”.

“I’ll wait for you”, he promised.

You took quick glances at each other in the rain, and a small smile crept upon Luke’s lips. You were soaking wet, and wanted to go inside. Against all your instincts, you invited him into your apartment.

“Are you sure?”.

“Yeah”.

“Really?”.

“Come on in before I change my mind”.

—❦

Luke hadn't been in your apartment in three years, and his sudden presence in your own space felt a bit nerve-wracking. Only if he saw that you had kept the mugs he once bought you. And his Blink-182 shirt that you never bothered to give him back. And the necklace hanging on the bathroom shelf that he had bought you on your 2nd anniversary.

You had changed to a dry set of clothes, and offered Luke a towel to dry himself up.

Luke sat next to you on your living room couch, as far as he could on the limited space of the two-seater. The silence was unbearable, it was eating you up. You had rehearsed every little thing you would say to him when you’d see him, but now it felt like the thoughts you once had escaped you the very moment you tried to reach them. 

You had offered him tea, and were drinking some chamomile tea yourself. A few candles were burning on the top of your coffee table, next to a pile of books and the coffee mug you had left there this morning. 

Would you really go through this with him again? Was it worth the try? Was it foolish that a small part of you thought it could work out this time? Did he really mean everything he said? Could he support his words with his actions?

“When you said you aren’t the same person you were before, did you mean it?”, you asked, and blew the tea slightly before drinking it. 

“I did”.

“What did you mean by it?”, you placed the tea mug at the top of the coffee table. You looked at the candle burning beside it whilst Luke talked.

“That I’ve grown. I am not a stupid 24 year old anymore, Y/N. I know what’s important in life. I know what kind of man I want to be, and I am trying to reach that everyday”, he explained with a certain softness in his voice. This Luke was patient, calm; not like the passive-aggressive Luke you once knew.

“So growing up has changed you, huh?”, you frowned your eyebrows, and studied his hair, which had been bleached. You liked this look on him, he looked refreshed. And more mature.

“And losing you”.

Your lips parted slightly at the comment and you noticed how he was fiddling with his ring that adorned his left index finger. He still did that. 

“Luke…”, he looked up to you as he heard his name, and you continued, “why didn’t you fight for me?”.

The narrative in your head that you had created through the years was that he didn’t love or care about you enough. That he had lied to you every time you went to bed, when he whispered those three little words to you. 

“Because I knew you deserved something better. It was the right thing for me to do'', he offered you a sad smile.

You swallowed loudly, his words getting a hold of you. You were fighting off the tears, not wanting to show Luke how much it was still hurting. 

“But now, I know, or fuckin’ desperately hope I am the man you deserve”.

“Do you really think it could work out this time? Us?”.

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”.

“‘Cause I am a stupidly huge hopeless romantic, I suppose”, he let out a small chuckle. Your lips curved into a smile, “And let me guess, you’re stupidly, hopelessly in love with me?”.

“You took the words out of my mouth”, he chuckled as you chuckled along with him. You had missed this. Hearing his adorable laughter. And laughing with him, hearing the sounds of your laughter blending in together like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“If we do this, hypothetically, of course, we should take it slow. Like extra slow?”.

”Yeah, of course. We wouldn’t want to rush a good thing, would we?”.

You smiled at his words, pleased with the fact he was on the same page as you. You would have never guessed, not even in a million years, that you’d discuss rekindling your old flame with the man that once tore up your heart. And that something inside you told you to trust him this time around. 

”Luke?”.

”Tell me”.

”I’ve missed you”, you confessed as if it was a sin, something you shouldn’t say out loud. Something that you could be punished for. 

”I’ve missed you too, Y/N”.

Something in you, some unimaginable force, wanted to throw yourself into his arms, and kiss him like you had never been apart. 

You could feel the tears forming in your eyes, and as you looked how soft and angelic Luke looked next to you, the tears began to stream down your face.

”Hey, hey… what’s going on, sweetheart?”, he inched towards you, and like a magnetic pull, you closed the gap between you. The proximity didn’t make you nervous, it felt like something that was bound to happen.

”I just..uh, fuck… I don’t know”, you managed to answer through the tears, ”Can you… hold me?”. He nodded, opened his arms and you placed your head against his beating chest. He wrapped his arms around you and your sobs grew more silent. He fondled your arm with his other hand, and you felt his face squished against your shoulder.

”Feeling better?”.

”Yeah. I’m sorry, I was just a bit overwhelmed, I guess”.

”Don’t worry about it. I get it”, he still stroked your arm gently, comforting you just the way you needed.

It all started to make sense. His light stubble against your bare shoulder, your black tank top perfectly matching with his, your steadily beating heart. 

You backed away from his embrace, the sides of your legs still touching one another. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, your fingers playing along with his, until Luke cleared his throat. 

”My mom asked about you the other day, by the way. Well, she didn’t really ask, I suppose, but she wished you were doing good. She loves you, y’know. You always knew how to make her laugh. And she loved how you used to watch The Bachelor with her, now no one wants to do it. And gosh, she never stops complaining about that, I mean -”

You pressed your tear-infused lips on Luke’s, and it took him a while to figure out what hell was going on, and when did, he brushed his lips softly against yours. His hands moved to hold your face and you placed your own behind the back of his neck. You started to grin into the kiss, you couldn’t help it, and soon realized Luke was doing the same as your teeth clashed along with his. A few giggles escaped both of your mouths, and you could practically feel the blood rushing through your veins. Luke closed the small gap between your lips, and for a while, you sat there in each other’s proximity.

”I want to try again, Luke”, you looked deeply into his baby blue eyes and found a sense of comfort in them.

”I want to do that too.. not like it was obvious or something”, he giggled. You loved his sudden nervousness, it was adorable. A large grin spread across your face, and faded as soon as you remembered the reality of your and Luke’s situation. Like you said it yourself, love doesn’t fix anything, not on its own. Did you and Luke have what it takes to make your relationship work again?

”How do we do… this?”.

”I don’t think there’s a manual for this, but we’ll figure it out together”, he kissed your temple.

So you promised each other you’d do everything in your power to make your relationship work again. That night you made up for the lost time, and talked about everything that had been going on in each other’s lives. You babbled about your work, and he listened to you like your voice was his favorite sound. He showed you his tattoos which he had gotten, and the lotus quickly became your favorite. You shared your traveling stories, and he told you what it was like to be on tour. And when you got emotional about missing him for so long, he got emotional too. And suddenly you were sobbing against each other, your legs entangled with his and his lips brushing over yours.

And when you woke up the next morning, with Luke’s arm hanging around your torso, you knew you had made the right choice.

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[alteon77]

That Familiar Feeling of Family (or how Hob Gadling ended up as an uncle to his stranger's oftentimes feral children): Chapter 1

It's a pretty universally known thing that families are just strange. As Hob is quickly figuring out, however, this little fact is magnified by AT LEAST a billion when the family in question is Endless.

(A lighthearted story in which Hob Gadling finds out his stranger has married, makes friends with a homicidal maniac/ruler, and manages to become an exemplary uncle to a pack of magically mischievous children. Really, now all he has to do is convince everyone to stop calling his and Dream's weekly meetups "playdates", and then his life would be practically perfect.)

AO3 here, Masterlist here

Hob is running. 

Now, that isn't an unusual occurrence in and of itself. After all, the immortal has been forced to flee many many times in his centuries of existence, and he can say without a speck of arrogance that he's become rather adept at it. But this running is dramatically different for one very large reason. 

A literally large reason. 

In that it's the first occasion, at least as far as he's aware, that he's ever had to try and outsprint a gargantuan bloody dragon. 

Try being the operative term here, because while he is indeed foolishly attempting it, he's also failing miserably if the puff of steamed breath that's tickling his neck is any indication. Which he guesses makes an inordinate amount of sense. Really, has he mentioned already how massive his pursuer is? 

The beast behind him lets out a loud, guttural roar, its feet causing the ground to shake as it chases after him like it's just a giant dog and he's got a half opened packet of hot dogs in his coat pocket. 

Hob idly wonders whether he'll actually die if (probably better to say when) that thing finally catches and devours him. He's never had the misfortune of being consumed before, so he's not quite sure how that will work out for him. What if there's just an arm left? Will it still be him? Will he spend his eternity as nothing more than a single discarded body part that has sentience but no way to speak? 

"Archibald! No! Bad!"

The voice, when it calls out this rather ludicrous admonishment, is definitely that of a child. A little girl if he had to guess, and when he does a quick glance around to see where she might be at (so he can hopefully save her from being eaten) he's shocked to spot her standing near his would-be killer. For a minute, Hob can't make sense of what he's seeing. The girl is in front of the reptilian monster, uncomfortably close to one of its frankly enormous nostrils, and she's pointing a finger at it, wearing the sternest expression on her youthful features that he's ever seen in his life.

The dragon crouches down, hanging its head as if in shame while the child, his possible savior, roundly chastises it. "Archie! You know better. What would Dadda say?"

She softens her scolding, though, by running one of her tiny hands along the leathery snout over its mouth, the same mouth that Hob is completely certain is filled with rows and rows of razor sharp teeth, and he isn't quite sure how to handle this. What’s the protocol here? He feels frozen as he watches the scene unfold before him, not knowing whether he should intervene and usher the girl out of harm's way or whether she’s really in any danger at all, since she seems almost as if…. as if she commands this thing? Like a young Daenerys Targaryen, except for the facts that she looks to be about five and she's clothed in a ridiculously frilly pink dress paired with shiny, immaculately black combat boots.

He's honestly… so confused. But he finds himself moving closer anyway, driven by that curiosity he’s never lost in all of his hundreds of years of living.

The girl seems to gentle towards her… pet? Can a dragon even be called a pet? He's having difficulty thinking of this nightmarish creature as anything so mundane, but even he has to admit that it’s exactly what the hellbeast appears to be regardless. 

"He won't let you… won't let you be a dragon if he… finds out about this."

The dragon, that he's just starting to process must be named Archibald or Archie, since he's heard her say it a couple times, lowers its massive head to nuzzle against the child, a puff of steam unfurling from its nostrils to ruffle her hair as it huffs like it's pouting. She soothes it then, stroking her fingers along its dark scales, the ones that seem shot through with a little sapphire when the brilliant sun from above hits them at just the right angle. 

"I know," she goes on. "I won't tell him, Archie, but no chasing the dreamers. Dadda was ad… ada…" She frowns at this as if she's struggling over the word. 

And Hob, having once had a precious son of his own who sometimes got caught up on pronouncing things, can't help but to offer a quiet, "Adamant?"

The little girl's face lights up, her ocean blue eyes widening at him in something like grateful glee. "Adamant," she repeats slowly. "That's… it."

He takes a minute to study her then, this too young dragon tamer. She's a small child, lovely in that same ethereal, unnatural way that he's always associated with his stranger. Her hair is a mess of riotous raven curls that seem to be coming loose from a single braid plaited at the back of her head, and her complexion is almost translucently pale save for the bright rosy flush on her cheeks. 

"I'm… Hob," he supplies with only a mite of hesitation.

Her smile is almost overwhelming in its joy. "Hi, Hob! I'm Aurora!"

And he opens his mouth then to ask after her parents and where they might be, to question her about the ferocious looking mythological beast that she seems to be in control of, but he isn't afforded the opportunity to do any of those things. Another voice joins them before he can, a melodic, otherworldly one that Hob knows all too well. 

It's his… stranger. 

His coat is longer here, draping down to the ground like something Hob would have worn in his goth punk days back in the eighties, but other than that he seems to have on the same black shirt, black pants, and black boots combo that Hob last saw him in. 

Hob takes a minute to gawk. He isn't ashamed to admit that his stranger is beautiful, all marble skin and high cut cheekbones, his hair a wild disarray of windblown black that sticks up at odd angles, almost as if it's the one part of his appearance that his magic can't seem to render as tame. 

"Aurora, what have I relayed to you concerning Archibald? I was told that he was in dragon form and terrorizing the wolves yet again."

"Dadda," the girl in question starts, sounding very contrite. "He won't do it… anymore."

His stranger's face tightens in what Hob thinks is supposed to be a severe expression, though it's clear he's not quite getting there in his daughter's bubbly presence. 

Wait.

Waaaaaait a minute.

What?

What did....

His… daughter? She'd said Dadda, hadn't she? Hadn’t she…. referred to his stranger by that title? His stranger? His stubborn, broody, took-a-century-to-admit-that-Hob-was-even-his-friend stranger? For a moment, Hob feels like he needs to sit, like he might pass out between the running for his life not ten minutes prior and the revelation that this child could belong…. to…. to Dream. 

Not that Hob ever really calls him that. He’d only gotten the name a few years ago when they'd last met, and while it had been a nice piece of information to have (and long overdue in his humble and frustrated opinion) he’d spent over six hundred years referring to his stranger as just that. And he honestly doesn’t see this habit of his changing anytime soon.

"I believe that is what I was promised when last he engaged in such unruliness," Dream goes on, seemingly oblivious to the panic attack that Hob is having. Truthfully, that shocks Hob not at all.

"He's still a… a baby, Dadda."

And yeah. Hob’s not wrong. She'd assuredly called him Dadda, had just said it again even. 

"Be that as it may, he is not permitted to wreak havoc on the realm or its inhabitants. No matter his age, starshine."

At last, Hob seems to find his voice, and he uses it to let out a small, barely there, "Dadda?"

He flushes a little with embarrassment as soon as the word is out of his mouth, because it sounds… not great. It's definitely not what he imagined himself saying at his next meeting with his oldest friend. But his stranger only goes stock still, his shoulders tensing as he glances towards Hob, his eyes narrowing in something that Hob thinks might actually be confusion.

Which… is all too completely understandable. Although, Hob will confess that he's never thought that his mopey stranger would ever be capable of looking as thoroughly perplexed as he does right this moment.

"Hob Gadling?" Dream questions.

"Is that… Is that your daughter?"

"It is," he allows slowly. "This is Aurora."

And while he introduces them, albeit awkwardly, Hob thinks he detects a fair amount of fatherly pride in the way that Dream puts one elegant, long fingered hand on the girl's shoulder to pull her against his side, in the way that his rather harsh, angular features soften as he smiles down at her. Seeing this, he supposes, might make him happy in any other situation, and it's a nice thing that his rather… er, reserved (i.e. cold, distant, and emotionally repressed, though Hob would never say it aloud) stranger is obviously comfortable enough with him to show it. 

But… this isn't any other situation. This is a rather… big piece of news that Hob's just been walloped over the head with.

“You have a child?” Hob blurts out, his brain processing this revelation so sporadically that it’s almost humiliating. 

Dream's brow furrows. “I believe that I only just conveyed as much to you. Are you…. quite well?”

“I’m sorry. A daughter? I can’t…." Hob struggles to articulate his thoughts, an utterly unsurprising complication given that he's relatively certain that this has to all be some strange fever dream. "Why didn’t you tell me about her the last time we met?”

Dream narrows his eyes again before glancing down at the girl. “Starshine, go and assist Archibald in returning to his dog form.”

Dog form? Dog form? That fire-breathing beast becomes a dog? For some reason, he's picturing Cerberus, with its three terrifying heads and the blood of those unlucky dead who try to escape the Underworld dripping from each of their corresponding fang-toothed maws. Hob wonders idly if the aneurysm he's sure to have soon is going to kill him.

“But Dadda….”

“No. He is forbidden from being a dragon for at least a week. Especially since I now see that he has been chasing the dreamers despite my explicit directive not to do so.”

Pointedly, he looks towards Hob, who in turn swings his gaze to his young, temporarily forgotten, savior. Her eyes have gone wide and pleading, and Hob feels his stomach lurch in guilt. 

"I was… just walking about, old friend."

And that wanker, that enigmatic tosspot (who hadn't even bothered to tell him he had a child) only raises an eyebrow in an expression of such incredulity that Hob knows he's trying to call bullshit without actually speaking the words. "Walking?" 

"Yes. Briskly."

That eyebrow goes somehow higher up on Dream's forehead. "By which you mean you were running."

Hob shakes his head. He's done some shady things in his very long life, but even he's not heartless enough to separate a girl from her… er, pet. "No. Not at all. Just… strolling. Vigorously."

And for some reason, Dream seems amused by this, as if he is aware that Hob is lying and it's humorous to him. “Very well. Three days then, Aurora.”

She claps gleefully (like she's just won something grand) before wandering out of earshot to presumably tend to her dragon/dog, and Morpheus grants Hob a small smile when she's gone. "You need not have lied on that vile monstrosity's behalf, Hob Gadling."

"I didn't-"

"You indeed did. This is my realm. I know all that transpires within its borders."

There's a loud pop from where the girl and the dragon are, and when Hob swings his gaze over towards them, he sees a great quantity of smoke clearing rapidly away. 

"Obviously not, or else you'd know it was on your daughter's behalf that I stretched the truth a bit," Hob snarks back.

Aurora steps out of the cloud before plopping down on the ground, followed immediately by a small, fluffy… thing that comes running out from behind her, yapping loudly. Hob winces, thinking that he almost prefers that menacing roar from earlier to the high-pitched noise it's making now.  

"You utterly discarded the truth in this case, friend."

Hob crosses his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture. He can admit to feeling a little… well, hurt that Dream obviously hadn't bothered to inform him of his child, and despite that being referred to as a friend by this brooding pillock does make him slightly less upset, he's still angry. 

"Pets are important to children. I didn't want to see her lose one to your temper."

Little Aurora pulls a sketchbook and a container of pencils from the bag that Hob is absolutely positive she hadn't had with her before. Humming, she munches happily on something that Hob thinks might be crackers, and he is suddenly aware of the fact that someone must have taken the time to pack these for her. Hob, to preserve what little bit of his sanity he has remaining, is going to assume that it was this child's mother who'd done so since he can't for the life of him imagine this eternal god-like entity before him puttering around a kitchen and preparing snacks like a normal bloke. That might be more unbelievable than the dragon as far as Hob's concerned.

"Ah. I see," Dream tells him, and it sounds almost as if he's trying to be… kind? "Let me set your mind at ease then, Hob Gadling. Even were I willing to hurt my daughter and do away with that ghastly creature, my wife would never allow such a thing. So, you need not worry over the matter."

Hob feels himself go rigid. Did he just say….. "Wait a minute? Wife?"

"You are soon to wake, Hob."

"Oh, no, no, no," Hob protests, putting his hands up, palm out, towards Dream. "You need to explain to me what you mean by wife."

It's no use, though. Between one blink and the next, Hob is lurching from his sleep, the image of his stranger smirking at him still fresh in his mind. His breathing is heavy, and he's soaked through with sweat, enough so that he knows he's going to have to change the sheets today. Wearily, he scrubs a tired hand over his face, and he tells himself that all of that must have been some strange fever dream, after all. 

Reaching out for the bottle of water he keeps by his bed, Hob is alarmed to see a piece of paper folded and tucked there. He snatches it up, opening the thick parchment to reveal an array of hearts drawn and colored in what he thinks might be twenty different shades of crayon. The message at the bottom is done in a messy, childish scrawl, and it reads:

Deer Mr. Hob. It wuz nise to sea u. Visit agin turmeric, pleeze. 

And Hob Gadling, who'd once won immortality just with the questionable skill of being able to run his mouth, finds that in this case, he can only stare blankly at the invitation in complete silence.

NEXT CHAPTER

[moonsorchid]

Rewatching ep.31 of Love Between Fairy and Devil and blogging my reaction

Here it is. The much dreaded episode 31. Spoilers ahead.

Nooooo. Not the grass bracelet. She made it with so much love and care for you, DFQC :(

And then DFQC orders Xunfeng – who is overjoyed when he sees people suffering – to keep an eye on her. Good choice, DFQC, what could possibly go wrong?

Perhaps it’s my idea – I tend to be biased when it comes to Xunfeng – but does he enjoy this more than he should?

Ronghao is alone with Xiao Lanhua. What could go wrong?

So he tries to kill her. But if she dies, then DFQC dies too

Oh DFQC felt her suffering and he tries to find her

Changheng! I have never been so happy to see you! (still a part of me foolishly believes that somehow she will be saved)

Poor Xiao Lanhua. She’s crawling to the sword in order to kill herself. It’s not fair :(

Everyone died during the battle. THE END

Yes, Changheng show him!

Ok, now Ronghao takes off his mask. Oh come on, Ronghao why do you have to be so handsome? I want to hate you, but I can’t. I mean you expect an evil monster behind the mask and you get one of the most handsome men in the world, all wrapped up in sadness and blurry eyes

I get anxiety by watching Xiao Lanhua slowly trying to reach for the sword, while DFQC musters all his remaining strength to reach her. And the music. Ufffff

Omg she took the sword, she took the sword. Nooooooooo :(

Yeah, show us her happy moments with Si Ming, now, break our heart even more

“Everything in this world is fate, but love.” So Xiao Lanhua, chooses to love him, chooses to kill herself to save him. I am sad, world. I am sad

She stabbed herself :( and now he found her but it was too late

The scene where she soars into the sky, goosebumps

All the dead persons in the battlefield are revived and the statues come to life. Ronghao of course only cares about Chi Di

The mark of the curse is erased on DFQC’s forehead. This is so sad

And the first thing she says is “This is great. You are fine.” All she cares about is him. :( I can’t, I seriously can’t.

He takes her to see the sun. Like he used to take her, back when they were living in Arbiter Hall. Back then he did so to make her feel better, so that he could use her power. Now because she is dying.

“Smile.” This is heartbreaking

And it’s not only that she died, her body was gone too. Poor DFQC

DFQC has recently regained his emotions and he had to feel and understand all of them in such a short time. How can one handle all this pain and grief? Especially a person who has been devoid of feelings for almost all his life?

The 100.000 soldiers were released, there is also truce now for 100 years

Jieli lies to Shangque making him believe she was working for the Lord of Haishi from the beginning and no one threatened her. Poor Jieli and poor Shangque

Baby dragon is so pure :(

“How long did I sleep?” asks ChiDi. About 30000 years

Oh no no no no no no no, the dream scene. Noooooo this hurts more than the death scene

“I think I had a nightmare. Let me hug you.” *taking deep breaths to calm myself*

They deserved to have these moments in reality. Ugh. I get upset because we were robbed.

I can’t help thinking that the director was like “Dylan, Esther, just be yourselves.” These scenes look so much like their bts

“We have been married for 500 years.” My baby boy lives his fantasy dream life

Aaaand he is dreaming

All I have to say is that this was painful.

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (1)

Chapter One: Spoils of War

Gif by @sergeantbandana

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you’re having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: Still tied and working with Cid, you and the Batch undertake a risky heist.

Masterlist for S1

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we’re in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Use of (Y/N) (will limit as much as I can), canon-deviation (with regards to certain dialogue aspects, timelines and who does what etc), the Force and Force communication working how I say it can, canon-typical violence, light angst and fluff

Word Count: 4.2K

Author’s notes: And now we’re onto S2! Please see this post for more details on it :) Very excited to be sharing this with you all and I don’t think I will ever be able to fully put into words just how much the support has meant! Warnings in italics are warnings that are going to be consistent in every chapter and so won’t be included from now on, only chapter specific warnings will be. Any new readers, please let me know if you want to be tagged! Enjoy!

When Cid had sent you all on this mission and you had seen that it involved a tropical beach location, you rather foolishly thought it would be a relatively simple task. Now, as the four of you ran from the screeching pod of crab-like creatures, you realised you had to stop thinking any mission from Cid would be straightforward. You came out onto the beach clearing and helped Echo up as he stumbled headfirst into the water’s edge before you kept sprinting.

“We went over the plan five times.”  Echo said irritably to Wrecker.

“I got the package, didn’t I?” Wrecker replied indignantly.

“Just keep moving.” Hunter ordered.

You glanced behind you and saw more creatures emerging from the beach trees and they were closing in fast. You fired some shots behind you, but the impact was minimal, it merely forced them to go in their shells for a couple of seconds.

“Tech, we’ve got the cargo, but we could use some firepower.” Hunter called into his comm.

“Wrecker woke the pod, didn’t he?” Tech replied as he powered up the ship.

“Yeah, and they’re not happy. We need a pick-up.” Hunter requested as he too fired behind him.

--

“Copy that. We’re on our way.” Omega chimed in as she and Tech entered the ship. It was then that the tug on the fishing line grabbed her attention. “Tech, we caught something. And I think it’s big.”

“Release the line. We do not have time to reel-” He broke off as more of the creatures climbed on the ship’s windshield and the alarm started blaring. He tried to get the ship off the rock but one of the crabs had grabbed the line and wasn’t letting it go. The ship shuddered and he heard Omega cry out from outside. “Omega!”

Omega managed to grab hold of the line and stop herself from falling further. “I’m okay.” She called up.

“Hang on.” Tech said as he attempted to get the Marauder air bound. However, the presence of these animals was making it a very difficult task.

“They’re wrecking the ship!”

“I cannot shake them.”

Omega slid down further and the creature below her pulled on the line once more. She studied the scene below her and she knew Tech couldn’t get the ones on the ship off if she didn’t help so, instead of trying to climb back up, she slid down and used the momentum to jump over the creatures, tucking and rolling as she landed. She drew her bow quickly and fired on the animals destroying the ship, allowing Tech to get away.

The victory was short-lived as she heard more rustling and shrilling behind her and she saw that more were coming her way. She ran across the beach in parallel to where the ship was.

“Grab the line.” Tech said through comms.

As more creatures came to cut her path off, she fired onto one and used the way it huddled back into its shell as a means to jump and reach the line before the others could grab her. Clipping the line onto her belt, she continued to fire down on the creatures as Tech flew the ship to where the rest of you were.

--

“Tech, where are you?” You asked as you all stopped running upon seeing your path being quickly shut off by even more of the crabs. However, that swiftly became the least important question as the Marauder rounded the corner but with a distinct addition hanging below it.

“Why is Omega hanging off the ship?” Hunter asked, a hint of horror behind the question as he watched.

“It is an unscheduled study break.” Tech responded.

Omega had been pulled back up to the entry way of the ship and sent it back down whilst she continued to shoot at the rapidly encroaching creatures.

You all ran over to where the ship had stopped and let Wrecker secure the package before you all stepped on it and let it take you up to the safety of the ship.

--

Hunter sat down and took of his helmet whilst you stood beside him and removed your hood and mask. All of you were breathing heavily.

“I thought the beach was going to be relaxing.” Wrecker grunted as he collapsed over the container.

“Appreciate the backup, but try staying inside the ship next time.” Hunter said to Omega.

“I’ll try.”  Omega took her hat off. “But it was still pretty fun.” She added with a smile on her face.

--

Ord Mantell.

“Greetings. It is I, AZ-345211-”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Wrecker interrupted as he made his way past.

“You are all quite late. Mistress Cid has been extremely vocal about her displeasure.”

“Well, there’s a surprise.” You and Echo muttered to each other as you followed the others to her office.

--

“Well, well, well. The space lugs decided to finally show up.” Cid said drily upon seeing you all walk through the door.

“Better late than dead, I always say.”

You didn’t recognise the woman sitting rather comfortably in Cid’s chair, drink in hand, with her legs up and feet on the table. “And who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She replied with a smirk before she got up moved around the desk. “So, this is the top team you’ve been talking about? The rogue squad on the run from the Empire, huh? How juicy.”

“You told her?” Hunter said to Cid, his guard automatically going up.

“Don’t get twitchy.” Cid said dismissively. “Phee’s a friend. She’s the most trustworthy pirate I know.”

“Two things that don’t belong in the same sentence.” You grumbled, keeping your gaze on Phee.

Phee met your eye contact. “You’re exactly as Cid described you.” She said with a smirk.  

You glared at her but said nothing.

“Aren’t clones supposed to look alike? So much for quality control.” She turned her eyes to each of them. “This one’s too big. This one’s too small. This one’s got a face tattoo.” She let out a short laugh. “Yeah, real subtle.” Then her eyes caught the one with the data pad standing at the end. “Oh. Hey now. Got a name, brown eyes?” She flirted.

Your jaw dropped and you eagerly awaited to see how Tech was going to respond.

Tech merely adjusted his goggles. “Tech. However, the phenotypic eye colour for all clones is brown. Iris pigmentation was not affected by our muta-”

Yeah, that feels about right. You thought to yourself.

“Well, as fascinating as this has been. I have places to be.” Phee interrupted before she handed Cid her drink. “You, let’s see those muscles in action. Grab that and follow me.”

Wrecker looked at Hunter for direction and when he nodded, he bent down and picked up the package. “Uh, y-yes ma’am.”

“And, Cid, that intel is not free. I expect a cut if your ‘top team’ comes through.” Phee said before she left the room.

“What is she talking about?” Hunter asked.

“And how much does she actually know?” You asked.

“Relax, she doesn’t know about your ‘situation’.” Cid replied. “Now, can we get into this? It’s your next mission. You lot are heading to the Outer Rim.” Cid pulled up a hologram of the exact place she was sending you.

You looked upon the image with utter disgust.

“That is Castle Serenno, the former home of Count Dooku.” Tech provided.

“Who’s that?” Omega asked.

“A Jedi who betrayed the Republic and led the Separatists in a war.” You spat. “You can’t seriously be expecting-”

“Leave whatever personal issue you have out of it and look at the facts. With him being dead, Dooku’s entire war chest is up for grabs. The Empire has already started pillaging his palace, but there is still time to strike before it’s all gone.”

You shook your head at her.

“Too much of a risk.” Hunter said. “You want that war chest? You go after it.” With that, he left the room and the rest of you followed.

--

You, Hunter, and Omega were by the bar counter and Omega was studying the data pad in front of her.

“What class of shuttle? Lambda or Delta?” Hunter quizzed.

“Lambda-class.” Omega answered instantly.

“Very good.” Hunter said proudly.

You watched them both with a fond smile. In the time since Kamino, Hunter had really embraced the role he had in Omega’s life, in fact you all had. The relationship you each had with her was slightly different but that was what made it work. Despite everything that had happened, the bonds between all of you had only grown stronger. Same went with Omega too. You had watched her grow from a young girl who didn’t know what dirt was to someone that was memorising every Imperial ship and who was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Wrecker’s voice grabbed both of your attention. “I’m in too.” The two of you looked over to see the others in a huddle with Cid.

“Good. Then we’re all in agreement. Now, all we gotta do is the other two.”

“Convince us about what?” Hunter asked as you both approached the group.

“Uh, well, we took a vote, and we wanna go after the war chest.” Wrecker said awkwardly.

“It’s unanimous. Even killjoy over here agreed.” Cid revealed, gesturing towards Echo.

Despite the situation, the edges of your mouth lifted slightly as you saw the affronted expression on Echo’s face.

“Serenno is Imperial occupied. We’ve stayed off the Empire’s radar since Kamino. Why chance it now?” Hunter said.

“You can’t let your little girlfriend’s social standing stop you from going anywhere with an Imperial presence.” Cid said bluntly.

“We’ve talked about that before and that’s not why, Cid.” You snapped. It’s not, right? You glanced at him, relieved that he shook his head. “There’s a bigger picture.”

“Exactly. Just cause you don’t like the guy that this stuff used to belong to shouldn’t mean you don’t go. If anything, that’s more reason to go. But more than that, the contents of just one of those containers would be worth more than all the jobs you pulled for me combined. You can buy your freedom.”

“We’re already free.” Hunter argued.

“It’s cute you think that.” Cid replied. “Clearly, you’re not paying attention to what’s happening out there, but I am. It’s only a matter of time before the Empire comes here. And then my little operation is over which means no more jobs for you.”

“She… does have a valid point.” Tech agreed.

“You wanna really be free? Then pull off this heist and you’ll have the means to disappear. No more risky missions. No more living hand to mouth. You can have a future. Isn’t that what you’re after?” Cid asked, her eyes shifting to you.

You want (y/n) to be craving a life you can’t give her? Crosshair’s words about you from Kamino still haunted his mind and he looked at you beside him, but you weren’t looking at him. You were looking over at Omega and then he too looked at the young girl. Living amongst fugitives where she’s constant danger? Again, the words of his brother came flooding back.

You sighed and turned to face him. For her?

And you, he mentally added before he nodded and addressed the group. “Okay, let’s go.”

--

The ship flew through hyperspace. Things on the ship were peaceful. Omega was in her room; Wrecker was napping in the co-pilots chair, and Hunter was watching the navigation console, with you in your bunk just behind it grabbing some rest too.

Echo approached Hunter from the cockpit and glanced up at Omega’s room and he looked over at you. The curtain in the gun turret was closed and your back was turned, and your shoulders moved in steady rise and fall so he figured it was safe. “I know why you agreed to this mission. But we can do better things with Dooku’s fortune than hide, Hunter. With what we’re up against, we have to be prepared to fight. That means numbers and weapons.”

“That’s not the kind of life this kid deserves.” Hunter replied.

“And you’re just thinking about the kid?”

Hunter shot him a look of warning.

Not to be dissuaded, Echo pushed forward. “Look, our lives are like this because of both of them.”

Hunter got up swiftly and pushed Echo back towards the hallway by the cockpit, his head turning back to see if either you or Omega had made any indication that you had heard that.

“Taking Omega off Kamino and sticking with her.” Echo indicated back over to you. “Was the right thing to do. But there are others out there who need our help. We’ve seen what the Empire is doing throughout the galaxy. We should be doing more.” Echo walked back to the cockpit.

Hunter sat back down by the console, unaware of the young girl peeking from behind the curtain and the fact that your eyes were wide open.

--

Serreno.

You departed the ship and donned your hood and masked before checking that your vibroblade and blaster were secure. You were trying to shake the guilt you were feeling but with little success. Now, you just felt a bit awkward.

Hunter sensed something off in your demeanour and he squeezed your hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” You replied quickly. “Just want to get this over and done with.”

“So, where is this palace?” Wrecker asked.

Tech studied his datapad. “The city is on the opposite side of this mountain range.”

Hunter noticed Omega hanging back as you all began the walk. “Are you coming?” He put on his helmet as she started walking too but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off with both of you, and he found himself hoping neither of you had heard what Echo had said.

--

You all peered over the edge of the mountain path to see the city completed decimated.

“That’s the city? What happened to it?” Omega asked.

“Imperial orbital bombardment. Same as on Kamino.” Echo answered.

You continued to walk for a short time before you came upon the castle.

Tech pulled out his macrobinoculars and studied the scenes below. “It appears that they are beginning to transport the war chest off-world. Our window of opportunity is quickly closing.” He passed the binoculars over to Echo.

“There’s over 40 troopers down there.” Echo said after he stopped looking and stood up.

Wrecker merely grunted and pounded his fists together. “That’s nothing.”

“Stealth, Wrecker. Remember?” Omega reminded him.

The sound of engine’s powering up grabbed your attention, and you groaned as you saw the ships that served as a painful reminder of the incident on Daro. “I hate those ships.” You mumbled as you watched a couple take off and fly alongside the cargo freighter. The light weight of Hunter’s hand on your back provided you some reassurance.

“Imperial escort ships.” Tech stated. “The standard protocol for when high-level cargo is being transported.”

“Get to the nearest container and grab what you can.” Hunter directed. “We’ll be the eyes on the ground.” Hunter said, nodding towards you. “If things go sideways, we’ll divert their forces and buy you some time.”

You split up into your two groups and made your way down the mountainside.

--

You were uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you walked.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Hunter broached carefully.

“Yeah. Just don’t want to be here any longer than we have to.” You deflected. “Come on, we should focus. We’re nearly at the shipyard.” You added, nodding ahead before you sped up.

Hunter paused for a moment and just watched you go. He really hoped you hadn’t heard Echo, but he knew you were right. There would be time afterwards to talk about whatever was going on. He got his head back in the game and matched your pace.

--

“In position. And the second transport’s launching.” Echo commed through as he watched with the others from the treeline.

You studied the group of soldiers ahead of you from behind the trees.

“We’ve got roving patrols. Stay alert.” Hunter advised back.

You waited a few moments to allow more ships to depart before you both covertly made your way down. You followed Hunter’s signal and the two of you split to sabotage as many of the ships as you could.

Running at a crouch, and keeping a look out as you did so, you planted your first explosive before moving onto the next ship.

--

The others had managed to successfully infiltrate the final transport, but they were needing to hustle since Wrecker’s action of stunning an Imperial soldier meant they were on more of a time crunch.

--

You attached your last explosive and got ready to leave but your eyes caught sight of a trooper checking out the ship you knew Hunter was just at, but you huffed out a relieved sigh when you saw that he was able to get clear before they spotted him. You used their distraction to swiftly leave and hop over the small wall and join Hunter back behind the trees. Now, you just had to wait for word from the others.

--

“CT-8808 report.”

The order chiming through the unconscious soldier’s helmet was the moment Echo knew their time was running out. “Hunter, I think we’re about to have some company.”

“Are you clear?” Hunter asked.

“Negative. We could use that diversion about now.”

“On it.” Hunter nodded at you, and you brought out the detonator and activated the charges, sending a series of ships up on flames and thankfully it worked like Hunter had intended. A rush of soldiers headed over to the sight of the destruction.

The two of you began to run back in the direction of the rest of your squad.

“We’re heading your way. Be ready.” Hunter said.

--

“Where are the others?” You asked urgently as you saw Wrecker was the only one to have appeared.

“Still in the container.” He replied, angling back to look.

The sight of the locked doors and smoke leaving the transport got your heart beating faster. You activated your comm. “Tech, the ship’s taking off. Get out of there.” You pressed urgently.

--

“Hurry, Echo.” Omega said anxiously as he struggled with the door mechanism.

“It’s externally sealed. I can’t open it.” Echo replied.

“Hunter, we’re trapped in the container.” Omega said fretfully. “We can’t get out.”

--

Those words had both you and Hunter turn to each other, and you were sure the panic behind your eyes would be in his own behind his helmet.

“On our way.” Hunter replied quickly.

“Uh, Boss? I think they know something’s up.” Wrecker stated.

The two of you followed his line of sight and saw that a series of troopers had now surrounded the container.

Hunter sighed. This wasn’t at all how things were supposed to go. He drew his blaster and set it to stun. “We’re done hiding anyway.”

You followed his actions and the three of you ran towards the cargo ship, firing a series of blasts as you did so.

The three of you climbed the ladder on the side of the ship as it took off, with you going first, then Hunter, then Wrecker. The troopers didn’t let that put them off and you flattened yourself against the railings as much as you could to avoid their fire whilst still sending back shots of your own.

You took a moment to see how the others were and panic clawed at your throat as you saw a round of shots being fired in Hunter’s direction, their aim focused on where his grip on the ladder was. One particular shot had him losing his hold and all that went through your mind was the terror you had felt on Daro as you once again had to watch him fall. “Hunter!” You cried out.

You dropped your head in relief when you saw he was able to grab hold of the last rung and hang over the edge. It wasn’t ideal but the alternative was far worse.

You were soon high enough to be out of blaster fire range, something Wrecker wasn’t overly fond of as he peered down. “Oh, I’m starting to regret this.” He said uneasily.

“We gotta go.” You said as you saw the ship getting closer to leaving the atmosphere.

“Go where?” Wrecker argued.

Hunter saw the castle approaching beneath him. “She’s right. Jump!”

The three of you let go of the ladder and slid down the cylindrical structure of Dooku’s castle. You and Hunter used your vibroblades to slow your descent and Hunter helped Wrecker as he held on to the edge of the platform you had landed on.

“This isn’t any better.” Wrecker groaned as he stood up.

Hunter watched the ship continue to fly away as he sheathed his blade. Already his anxieties were coming to life before his eyes. Something only made worse when he heard Omega’s voice through the comms.

“Hunter, where are you?”

“Sorry, kid. We got a little sidetracked. You need to get off that ship before it jumps to hyperspace.”

“If we gain access to the ship’s main hold, we could commandeer an escape pod.” Tech theorised.

“Do it.” Hunter ordered. “We’ll get to the Marauder and recover you.”

“It’s going to take a while.” You pointed out as you stared at the crowd of clones heading towards the castle as the fired up at you.

“Quick! Inside.” Hunter directed.

The three of you made your way inside the castle.

--

You all entered the decrepit and run-down main room of Dooku’s castle through a side door, and a shudder ran down your spine. His absence clearly didn’t equal the absence of the dark forces that surrounded the room. It was affecting you more than you anticipated. It wasn’t just discomfort you felt, you were physically cold too.

“This place gives me the creeps.” Wrecker said uneasily as he walked in further.

Hunter noticed the way you paused before fully entering the room and the way the hand on your blaster shook slightly. He signalled to Wrecker to move on ahead and he hung back. “You with us?” He asked gently as he allowed himself a moment to just be your Hunter and not your sergeant.

You exhaled deeply and rolled your neck. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m good.”

Hunter nodded at you before you both continued down the stairs further into the room.

The quiet was short lived, it wasn’t long before the main door opened, and the troopers began to fire on you once more.

The three of you fired back with stun blasts of your own and took cover behind the desk. The floor buckled slightly as you all landed on it, but you couldn’t pay it much thought, your focus was making sure those troopers couldn’t get closer to you.

“Any idea how we’re getting out of here?” You asked over the din of blaster fire.

Hunter looked around and noticed the cracked window and looked down at the floor and stroked along the edges. “We’re not going out. We’re going down. There’s a lift below us. Cover me.” He began to get to work on the console.

You and Wrecker focused your fire, giving Hunter as much time as he needed but they had reinforcements, and that time was rapidly running out.

“What is taking you so long?” Wrecker complained.

“I’m trying. Tech usually does this.” Hunter answered as he started multitasking between firing on the soldiers and activating the lift. He was finally able to get it moving but one blast meant the panel short circuited, halting the lift in in tracks. “It’s jammed.” He said irritably before he gave up and helped out with thinning out Imperial numbers.

“They won’t see me…” You said hesitantly as you stunned a couple more troopers before you took cover.

“No.” Hunter said firmly as he continued to fire.

“I can fix it.” Wrecker offered instead.

The two of you took a step back as he threw a smoke bomb which gave you and Hunter the opening you needed to gain the upper hand and it gave Wrecker the chance to begin jumping.

Realising what his plan was, your stomach dropped to the level you sure you all would be free falling to very shortly. “Wait! Don’t!” Your plea was short lived since the three of you tumbled down the lift shaft, Wrecker’s screams echoing around you.

--

With Plan A of the rest of you coming to their aid failing, and Plan B of commandeering an escape pod also failing, Echo, Tech and Omega found themselves back in a cargo container, hoping that by releasing all the containers, the re-entry boosters would slow their landing. The main flaw in this plan being not being able to control where they land.

“When are the re-entry boosters supposed to fire?” Echo asked as he let Omega through the netting of one of the containers before he followed suit.

“I think they should have by now.” Omega replied, nervous that they hadn’t activated yet.

“That is going to be a problem.” Tech stated as he struggled to keep hold of the netting on the outside of the container as it continued to plummet towards the ground.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @a-streakofazure, @ladytano420, @dragonrider9905, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​

[streets-in-paradise]

A Task for Heroes

Troy 2004 Oneshot

Introduction scene for this request coming soon

Characters: Patroclus, Odysseus, Achilles.

Summary: Odysseus finds out of Menelaus' plans to make peace with Troy while Achilles discusses with him his preparations for the war Agamemnon intends to push in Thesaly. Decided to take part in both fronts to figure out the goal behind the strategy of the powerfull kings, they organize to join forces. As this leaves the ithacan to participate of the diplomatic work in Sparta, his planning for fitting excuses gets constantly interrumpted by the young relative of his friend.

Having heard the rumours on the expected arrival of trojan princes, Patroclus wants to meet Hector out of curiosity for the incredible tales about him circulating among greeks. His wish stumbles with the mocking negatory of Achilles, but Odysseus crafts a plan to make it converge with his needs.

Tags: @allisxnnn

Convoluted times in Greece were supposed to end once the House of Atreus would consolidate its supremacy among all the other local powers, or at least that was what the brothers leading it proclaimed. Through the combinated actions of war and diplomacy they intended to submit the last significant forces of resistance to them that were still standing. In on front, Agamemnon hoped to unleash Achilles against the kingdom of Triopas and easily win the final militar victory. In the meantime, Menelaus awaited for the sons of Priam to arrive as guest for his palace to accept a peace treaty.

As fast as news reached him, Odysseus sensed a extremely secretive intentions that were suspicious enough to awake his perceptiveness for scheming. If the strongest warrior of the country was being expected by the mycenaean king to do the fighting for him … Why wasn't the most successfull diplomat being called by the spartan king in order to secure the triumph of his negociations? Menelaus had to be hidding something, or was perhaps following the bad advice of his eldest brother wanting the mission to fail in order to conquer the trojans.

If it wouldn't have been for a casual visit to Achilles at the right moment, he would have found out of the political move through the news of its consecuencies. Simply unaceptable, and he wasn't going to let it go easily. Once his clever mind was awakened, nothing would have made him prefer to stay out of the business.

His friend tried to help his case commenting together possible strategies for a calculated counter-offensive on the plans of the evil kings. Since he would have to leave for Thesaly on the requirements of Agamemnon, Odysseus had to find a way to visit Sparta without being solicited for the mission. Each one from their position, both friends expected to unveil the obscurantism surrounding the conected facts.

However, their planning was being constantly interrumpted by the intromissions of Patroclus, young cousin of the myrmidon hero. Although enthusiastic, the topics of his curiosity were completely unrelated and that caused a mild annoyance on the urgent mindset of Odysseus. Apparently, Achilles had ignored to comment him that the mycenaean heralds bringing the messages for him had foolishly spoke about the visit of the trojan princes to Sparta. Careless as he was for that, he remembered to reveal it on the context of the conversation with his friend and Patroclus couldn't stop insisting about it.

That omision had upsetted him, but Achilles dismissed his guilt on that with friendly teasing.

" Since when do you care so much for people living across the sea? The trojans will come to feed the pride of a bastard king so they won't be the next ones getting attacked once I will humilliate the warriors of Triopas. That isn't our concern. "

Patroclus looked at both of them with frustration, as if the answer was obvious, and the chuckles he caused him made Odysseus forget of the annoyance.

" Prince Hector of Troy will be stepping greek territory for the first time! " The lad corrected. " Isn't that huge? He is the only warrior in the world worthy of being measured with you. Tales say he is such an impressive fighter that the amazons became allies of Troy admiring his feats in war. He commands the finest army in the East, force so magnificent that has contained on its own the greed of Agamemnon for many years. Hector is the reason why Menelaus wants peace! He is clearly afraid of him. "

The passion of his exposition awakened tenderness on the ithacan king because it reminded him of the child-like amazement of his son while hearing him tell stories. Patroclus was too invested on epic tales of heroes, price to pay for growing up alongside a living legend like the son of Peleus.

Effects of excesive praise through that brief mention of the rumours about the trojan prince managed to upset the infamous pride of Achilles.

" I'm scarier than anything in this world, so I don't need to check if those stories hold any amount of true. "

The posibility of having to share his spot of privilege in the pantheon of heroes admired by Patroclus was the source of that annoyance. Odysseus was shocked by that discovery and decided to play with it a bit further.

" But you do want that. Am I right, Patroclus? Some say Hector is better than all the greeks, I bet you want to see if that fame is justified. "

Achilles got wary, used as he was to his manipulative tactics.

Stepping in between them as an unbreakable barrier, he directed a serious warning glance to his friend.

" What do you expect to achieve sweet talking my cousin? He is a great student for the skills i teach, not a liar of your kind."

Odysseus' smiled with the brightfull mischievousness that usually indicated an insane idea had just occured to him.

" If not invited to Sparta, I will present there anyways against the expectations of Menelaus. The surprise element will make him reveal himself to me, but I can't get there alone. Since you are teaching this lad to fight, allow me to give him a lesson on how to deal with kings. It is an important life skill for heroes in training to learn and your behavior fighting for Agamemnon shows you can't provide any training for it. "

Such small glimpse of hope made Patroclus' face transform reflecting the growing excitement, but his guardian intended to stop the madness.

" I won't let you take my cousin to lick the sand out of Hector's sandals and have Agamemnon's brother watching it. "

Odysseus had a comeback already planned for his pride índuced fears.

" How do you expect him to act normal arround important people while meeting none? Only once he will see the man behind the legends he will obtain a more grounded perspective. His world is yet too small, let him expand it. "

Walking a few temptative steps closer to the target of his persuasion, he presented one last motive he knew that won't fail.

" Besides, if he stays under my care you won't have to worry for him while fighting the thesalonians. "

It hitted on the ríght spot, weaponizing his genuine love for his young relative and protective tendencies regarding him.

" If I say yes, what would you expect him to do for you there? And no more tricks, I want a clear answer. "

It was fair, so the king didn't refuse.

" A family visit is the best excuse to masquerade my intentions, since his wife is cousin of my Penelope. I have to be there with my entire family and that raises a concern for me that is very similar to yours, my friend. "

Shifting his attention on Patroclus, he continued the exposition as an exhortation for him.

" I will be direct in this, lad. I have a daughter of your age and because of the quiet, free life she is used to have on our small island she is not very found of being followed by guards. I have two nations of men to protect her from during our stay, but I know she will reject a royal escort. She will despise being surveiled by one of my men, but would gladly take a friendly travel companion. It would save me a lot of trouble if you could keep an eye on her during the negociations. "

The joy of the boy knew no limit.

" Apart from joining the trip, am I being trusted to protect a princess? Your majesty, that would be an honor! My payment for the intromission is a task for heroes! "

" A work for slave nurses, I would believe. " Achilles interrumpted, ironically. " I won't do that sort of thing unless her beauty justified the waste of time."

That was a kind of joke expected in him, but being aware of that didn't stop the embarassment of Patroclus.

" Achilles, don't be disgusting! I could never attempt such affront to honor and it's not my fault that you would gladly bed a lady entrusted to your protection."

The drastically repulsed reaction to the suggestion pleased the father.

" Don't worry, no king would be fool enough to leave him alone with a princess. You, in the other hand? Perfect for the task, that strong sense of duty and will to prove yourself have convinced me. You have integrity, Patroclus, and that's exactly what I am looking for. "

Patroclus looked sweetly at Achilles awaiting for the so needed permission. Realizing that a negatory would have crushed the heart of the lad, he responded to Odysseus the only way he could.

" If you want so badly to nurse for me, take him."

The young boy rushed to hug him and the stoich position of the hero faded to his most heartfelt sayings in between his thankfull gibberish.

" I will make you proud, cousin. I promise. Give me this chance and you won't regret it. "

Achilles kissed his forehead tenderly and surprisingly careless for the presence of his friend observing that moment of sweetness.

" … Just watch yourself from that liar."

Odysseus chuckled, admitting his guilt.

" No more tricks, that's what I can promise."

Being a guest of the spartan king as a friend of ithacan royals was the greatest honor Patroclus was offered in his young life. Meeting Hector in such rewarding context promised to be amazing for him and in the same visit he would be meeting Queen Helen, said to be the most beautifull woman in the world. And so, he left his homeland unable to think in anything else. Nothing could have disrupted him from his goal of adquiring a modest fame different from his cousin's while meeting remarkable people that were matter of equally greater legends.

He was sure of that, untill reaching the first part of the trip with the arrival at Odysseus' palace. As he awaited at its entrance to be introduced by the king, a young girl of splendid beauty came from the inside running towards them.

She didn't stop untill hugging Odysseus, but once the warm welcome was over her attention got focused in the misterious newcomer.

With just a curious smile she made his heart race.

[rita-rae-siller]

Last Line/Excerpt Share/Proud of Tag~

I was tagged by @gabeorelse! Thank you for the tag! I have been meaning to post more story writing and this gives me an excuse to do so. Here’s an excerpt I’m very proud of. Introducing Alura’s honorary dad figure, Aalvor.

Excerpt that I am immensely proud of: (fair warning, it is a bit long because this is one scene from an entire chapter. But the whole scene is too good to not share)

Smoke and fire were visible from Minos, even a hundred miles away on the coast in Hellske. With a weary sigh, Alura took a swig from the bottle of red wine in her hand and rested her head against the window frame she was sitting in. Part of her wondered if the soldiers left behind were still fighting futilely. That she had to leave anyone behind at all left a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew full well that they couldn’t have stayed another day with the daily bombings and raids going on. But that didn’t make it any easier to wrestle the guilt down. Perhaps if she’d done something different, been more aggressive in establishing a perimeter for the men to fall back to, more of them might have been able to get out. With a tired sigh, she downed the last of the bottle and rose to her feet to fetch another from the rack on the wall by the dresser. Just as she pulled the cork free, there was a knock at the door. Hoping that the intruder might take the hint and leave, Alura ignored it and returned to the window seat. It was well after midnight. If she couldn’t fall asleep on her own, she wanted to enjoy drinking herself into oblivion undisturbed.

The door opened without her approval, much to her annoyance. Alura could just see Aalvor out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. She took a long, slow drink from the bottle, maintaining her silence as he shut the door behind him. No words were necessary to know exactly what the cause of his displeasure was.

“Is now a good time, Your Grace?” He asked quietly.

“Well, you’re already in here. I don’t think I have a choice,” Alura replied, keeping her gaze on the smoke in the distance. He never had approved of her drinking, but it was a vice she couldn’t quite bring herself to give up. Life gave her a lot to drink about. “Is there a problem, Captain?”

Aalvor took a seat beside her and slid the leather dossier she’d brought with her from Eredahl into her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me the emperor planned to let Minos fall?” 

“I take it you didn’t just stumble upon this out in the wild?” Alura took another swig of wine and tossed the dossier across the room to her bed, where it promptly slid across the silk sheets and onto the floor with a loud thud. Foolishly, while she was working her way through her first bottle of wine, she’d left it on her bedside table to walk about the battlements of the keep. Hellske wasn’t as cold as Eredahl or Minos at night. In vain, she’d hoped the fresh air would clear her head. Aalvor must have come looking for her earlier and taken it while she was out. Its disappearance led her to open a second bottle, and then a third.

“You should be more careful with information that sensitive,” He said. “So, why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“You didn’t need to know. It was a delicate situation, and I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out,” Alura replied. That wasn’t a lie, but she refused to even think about the subject. Avoiding another spiral into despair was exactly why she’d started drinking in the first place. 

“Was it because of Her Eminence?” He asked. 

“It doesn’t concern you.” Alura frowned at the mere mentioning of her. Magistrate Serbyris had been kind enough to offer her—and her alone—board in his castle while Matilde stayed in the Temple of Gora. The split up triggered another colorful outburst, just as Alura knew it would. It all seemed worthless now. Even with the physical distance between them, Alura couldn’t get away from her.

“Did you know we were going into a stirred up hornet’s nest back there?”

“You read the dossier, didn’t you? It’s all in there.”

“I wanted to hear it from you.” 

“It’s not like I had a say in anything. I’m just a dog following orders, same as you.”

“It’s a simple question, Your Grace.” 

“Why do you want to know so desperately?” Alura raised the bottle to her lips again, but Aalvor snatched it away. 

“Mother’s Mercy, Alura; get a grip.” He tossed the bottle out the open window before she could take it back. “You’ve been quiet ever since we left Eredahl, even more-so since Minos. How many times will you let her break your heart?”

“You’re assuming I had anything left of it to break in the first place.” Alura rose to her feet, cursing the pins and needles in her leg as she hobbled back to the wine rack and browsed what the magistrate had brought in for her. Spotting a familiar bottle of port wine—something thick, sweet, and most importantly, fortified with hard liquor—she opened the bottle and turned to face him, shamelessly downing half of it in one go while he scowled at her. Now, after two full bottles of red wine, part of a third, and a fresh brandy infusion settling in, she was beginning to feel a bit better about it all. Maybe Matilde was right. Perhaps the emperor really had sent them east to die. But what did she care? An end to the madness didn’t sound so bad. It took a lot of effort to try and keep a crumbling empire afloat on her own, and it brought her a dark sense of satisfaction to know just how violently the place would go down in flames without her. 

“You’re drunk,” Aalvor said flatly, crossing his arms in a very fatherly fashion.

“And you’re not my father,” She replied, leaning against the dresser for support as the room began to tilt steeply to one side. He never liked seeing her in this sort of state. The subtle look of disappointment, much like the one gleaming in his eyes now, never failed to make her crumble. As of late, she’d seen that look frequently from him. 

“I’m as good as. No one else cares to tell you when you’re embarrassing yourself.” Aalvor gestured for the bottle. “Give it here.”

“Are you going to throw this one out the window too?”

“No. If I’m to put up with your theatrics at this hour, I may as well join you in your drinking,” 

Suspiciously, Alura took a step forward and handed him the bottle. In true soldier’s fashion, the remaining contents disappeared down his throat in a matter of seconds. He made a face as the last of it went down and patted the seat next to him. With a heavy sigh, she sat down beside him. She had to slouch to rest her head on his shoulder, but the discomfort was worth the warm arm he wrapped around her. 

“Did you really read the dossier?” She asked. There were a great many plans and plots crammed and condensed within its pages. Most of it she didn’t even read, just glanced over apathetically. All of the words bled together into one overarching theme:

Garmora’s fate rested completely in her hands.

“Yes. You know how horribly nosy I am when it comes to the schemes and plots you get mixed up in.” He squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Are you scared?”

“Terrified.” Alura buried her head into his neck. Most of the orders she had been given were unclear, incoherent, or talked of battles and enemies long past, some before Alura had even been born. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to navigate such dilemmas. Deviating from her orders was a guaranteed whipping or branding, even if her refusal to follow orders resulted in victory. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“You can and you will, for you are the next Hariiv; sent by the heavenly father to lead our people through the storm of war to paradise. We have known this for decades.”

“The Hariiv is always male. The priests say it is so,” Alura snorted in amusement. Maybe if she had been lucky enough to be born a man, she wouldn’t have the same struggles that bore down on her at every waking moment of the day. 

“You are named after one of the greatest Hariiv of all time, and she is the reason Garmora lived to become the empire it is today. Let the priests say what they will--being a woman has nothing to do with your ability to lead and protect."

“I don’t stand a chance if it comes to an election by the College. Taking the empire by force will cause widespread chaos.”

“Who could challenge you when the entire imperial army stands behind you?”

“She’s currently sleeping in that temple down there by the docks,” Alura replied. Soldiers wouldn’t help her convince the masses that she was their divine guardian. Matilde held the reluctant favor of the temples, and many at court preferred her over Alura. At least Matilde was human. “He wants her dead. Soon. I worry what will happen when it happens. If it even happens.”

“I have told you many times since you first accepted the task that I would happily take that burden from your shoulders. Stain my hands instead of your own with this deed.” 

“She’s never struck me before. How stupid I was to think I would ever get through this unscathed.” It took all of Alura’s might to keep her lower lip from trembling at the thought. It was childish of her to weep over something so insignificant, but the throbbing ache in her chest was unbearable. “Can everything she’s done ever justify taking such actions? What sort of monster have I become to even consider doing such a thing?”

“Matilde is not just a harmless victim of circumstance,” He said, gently squeezing her shoulder again. “The woman has committed evil atrocities, and transgressed against you without remorse. We should have left her in Minos.”

“The final order hasn’t been given yet. Unless I catch her in the act of something treasonous, I have to stay my hand until He says otherwise.” 

“Will you tell me when the time comes?”

“If you insist.”

“Is my help so distasteful?” Aalvor chuckled. “You’ve never wanted it, even when you were a little girl learning how to hold a blade.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now,” Alura groaned, but couldn’t fight off the smile that twitched at her lips. He had been the only constant in her life. The only good one, anyway. She’d never admit it to his face, but he was the closest thing to a father she had. No one else showed her such devotion, or kindness.

“I’m an old man. It’s what we do.” He gave her another squeeze. “Can you promise me something?”

“You know I’m terrible at keeping your promises.”

“Yet I keep asking anyway.”

“What am I promising?”

“That you’ll let me kill her the next time she causes you harm—directly or indirectly. I have watched you suffer enough at her hands.”

“What a bloodthirsty thing to say. I’m surprised at you.” Alura nudged him and sat up to spare her back that was now beginning to ache. “I’ll entertain the thought.”

“You should get some rest, Your Grace,” Aalvor said as he rose to his feet. He shook the empty bottle in his hand at her. “You’ve had enough of this. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sir,” Alura saluted him with a flourish and a smile. “Goodnight, Captain”

“Good night, Your Grace.”

Tagging: (feel free to engage or decline!)

@theink-stainedfolk @sidebyside-withafriend @jonquilandlace @maggieharlan

[jaesqueso]

Love me again

pairing: ex-boyfriend!lucas x female!reader

summary: when you encounter your ex-boyfriend after four years after your break up and he asks for another chance

for the Red collab by @jeonronwoo​

word count: 3,401

warnings: strong language, mentions of alcohol, domestic violence and mental illnesses, exes to lovers!au

a/n: I don’t how people are still feeling about Lucas but I already had this on the plans so I wanted to finish it and what a better time to post than when he makes a comeback to social media? hope SM gives us closure on the whole situation but in the mean time enjoy this poorly written story 😅 hope ya’ll enjoy it! ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“Thank you very much, you can wait at the end of the counter.” You smile at the costumer as you finish writing his name on the cup for his drink.

Getting ready on the system, you go ahead and great the next client.

“Welcome to ‘The Vision’, what can I get you today?”

“A venti iced coffee.” You stop recognising a voice you thought you’d never hear again. “And another chance?”

“L-Lucas?” Finally looking up, you freeze at a face you thought you’d never see again.

-

You met him in highschool. Typical bad boy, often spotted skipping class to go smoke behind the gym, his rudeness to colleagues and teachers constantly getting him detention but somehow managed to have good enough grades to get him through. Needless to say his popularity was not that great and he was definitely someone you wouldn’t like to be associated with. That was until you got pared with him for a school project.

You were the typical good girl. Not the best of your class but your grades were good. Never skipped or got detention, but you were classified as borderline nerdy so your popularity wasn’t through the roof. Honestly you didn’t care, you were just focused on finishing highschool and getting the hell out of this boring town. But for that you needed to keep your good grades and that was being threatened by getting pared with him.

At first you thought maybe you could do the whole project alone, that way you’d ensure you got a good grade and wouldn’t have to deal with him, but your conscience convinced you to give him a chance. That was error number one.

Almost an hour late, but Lucas eventually showed up at the library. It took some time to get him to do something but right before the deadline you two managed to get the project finished and delivered on time and you were actually surprised the under his careless atitude he actually did a good job that resulted in one of the best works on your class. After that you thought you could finally breathe and not have to hang out with him anymore but he had different plans. He sat next to you in class, even if it wasn’t in his typical seat in the back of the classroom, and you two started casually talking. As you got to know him better you realised that under that bad boy mask there was actually a nice guy so you let him in your life. That was error number two.

With time you grew closer and closer. The way he looked at you, talked with you, was different than with other people and you started feeling things. It all happened so naturally that when he leaned forward you gladly welcomed his lips on yours. That was error number three.

As the relationship grew, he opened up to you. You sat silently as he told you how his dad had problems with alcohol and used to hit his mom almost everyday, right in front of him, until he fled the scene. At the time Lucas was relieved but his mom just went into dark road into depression leaving him, an only child, to figure things out on his own. At that moment you understood the rebellion inside of him, it was not his fault. Foolishly in love you decided to help him, a typical case of ‘I can change him’ syndrome. That was error number four.

It took a while but you convinced him to let you help him study, so he can improve his grades and apply to college. It was hard work but your mission was successful and you even changed your plans to go to uni closer to him. That was error number five.

Moving into an apartment together, your relationship was better than ever and you couldn’t be happier. Lucas barely had any money so the house expenses pretty much fell over your parents pockets. Obviously they were not very happy with that but you defended him at all costs telling them how much he has changed. That was error number six.

A few months in something started to feel off. And then you found out he was failing most of his classes. You confronted him about it and, even though he seemed sorry about it, he told you he was quitting college. You argued about all the hard work you two had done to get him there but in the end you couldn’t force him to keep going. The following month he just either stayed in the house all day or just went out and spent money. Your parents money. Once they knew about this, they threatened to cut you off so you had a serious talk with Lucas that agreed to find himself a job and get some income. You trusted him and that was error number seven.

As you busted your ass with school and even getting a part-time job at a local cafe, you trusted he was doing what he promised, but it was a mess. He found a job at a bar but was fired about a week after, you don’t really understand why. He told you he was looking again but soon he started to come home drunk. The first time you pretended not to notice, after the second time you started to make up reasons in your head to excuse his behaviour, but then it started to get more frequent and it was starting to get on your nerves. A few weeks later, you were at home trying to relax after a dreadful day and there he came crumbling. But this time you had enough.

“Lucas?” You called out from the living room.

“Who else would it fucking be?” He mumbled, struggling to take off his jacket.

“Great…” Rolling your eyes, you leaned back on the couch.

“What now?” Finally he was able to take the jacket off and roughly throw it on the ground.

“It’s just great to see my boyfriend drunk in the middle of the day again.” You shook your head in disbelief of the words coming out of your mouth.

“Mind your fucking business.” His body tumbled to the other end of the couch.

“Well I am, when you’re out there spending my money on booze!” You got up, massaging your temples as you looked away from him.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” He groaned, like he was doing nothing wrong.

“No, you shut the fuck up, Lucas! I’m tired of the same thing every day!” You turned back around almost screaming in rage.

“Whatever…” He huffed.

“Not whatever!” You finally let go.“I’m tired of busting my ass in school and work for you to just go ahead and have fun at my expense! You said you’re different but you’re just like your father-”

“What the fuck did you just say?” He suddenly got up preventing you for saying anything further.

“I-I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised as you shouldn’t have brought that up, “I didn’t mean to say that-”

“But you said it!” He rushed to you pushing you against the wall.”I’m not like that fucking coward you hear me?”

Your eyes widened as you noticed his hand pushed all the way back, tight in a fist and about to come down on you, before he stopped.

“Shit…” His flaming eyes came back to reality when he noticed what he was about to do.

“Were you going to hit me?” Your voice sounded stern but your whole body was shaking on the inside.

“Babe, I’m sorry-” Dropping his hands on his side, he gulped.

“Go ahead then. Hit me. Show me how different you are from your father by doing exactly what he did to your mom.” You challenged him.

“I…” He started to back away as he looked at his hands.

“I’m done Lucas.” You sighed. ”I tried to help you, but I can’t. I’m not strong enough for this. You need professional help.”

You went into your shared bedroom and grabbed a bag you had prepared because deep down you knew this day would come.

“I’m going to spend the night at Ahreum’s and when I come back I don’t want to see you or any of your shit here. It’s over.”

Lucas stood in the middle of the room, speechless as he watched you leave.

That was the last time you saw him. Until today.

The next day you came back and he was gone. Part of you felt sad he didn’t even try to fight for you, for what you two had built together. But another part of you was just knew that’s exactly what would happen and you felt relieved and free of the drama that came with Lucas.

-

“Hi.” His smile is soft and full of hope but leaves a mess inside your head.

“Kun, can you cover for me? I’m gonna take my break now.” You suddenly abandon your place behind the counter.

“S-sure.” Confused, your friend moves to the register as you disappear into the back. “You said venti iced coffee?”

“I’ll be right back.” Lucas flees out the front door leaving the other even more confused.

You open the backdoor that leads to an alley next to the coffee place you work in, panting as your heart is beating so fast you swear it will burst at anytime. You squat down, body shaking as a million thoughts go through your head. What is he doing here after all this time? How can he just walk up to you so casually after the way things went down? What does he expect to get out of this?

“Y/N…” You look up and there he is again, standing right in front of you.

Quickly you get back up and move towards the door to get back in, but he stops you.

“Wait! I just wanna talk!” He pleas and that makes your blood boil.

“What could you possibly have to say after all this time, Lucas?” The name that once gave you butterflies, rolls out of your tongue like razors cutting their way out. “You know what, I don’t even care, I don’t want to talk to you!”

“I know I have no right to do this but please just hear me out. You don’t have to say anything, just give me 2 minutes, please…” You can hear the desperation on his voice, even though he doesn’t raise his voice.

“Time’s counting.” Sighing you decide to let him speak.

“Ok ok, hm… I swear I had a speech prepared but it all vanished from my head now.” He scratches the back of his but then you give him a look that he knows he’d better not waste his time. “I know I screwed up. We had something great and I ruined it. You were so good to me and I just took you for granted so I ended up losing you.”

Taking a deep breath, you fight the tears that threaten to fall. He takes a step forward before continuing.

“Look, the day you sent me away finally opened my eyes. You’re the best thing that happened to me and I gave it all up. And for what? Nothing. So I left and I decided be a better person. For you. For us. I spent 2 years in a rehab center taking care of myself and 2 more getting myself together. I got a job, a small apartment and it really feels like I’m in the right path. I’m just missing one thing. You. Let me show I’ve changed. Please.”

“What makes you think there’s space in my life for you anymore?” You don’t know how you managed to get those words out of your mouth without cracking.

“I don’t know. I just…” He sighs. “I don’t want to believe our story is over. Just give me one more chance. If at any moment I even say the wrong thing just say it and I’ll disappear. For good this time. Please.”

“You don’t get to break my heart anymore, Lucas.” You gulp, trying to keep yourself together. “I promised myself I’d never let that happen again.”

“I won’t.” He looks straight into your eyes making you want to believe him so bad. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” You mumble to yourself.

“What?”

“You have a week.” Turning around you reach for the door.

“Really?” Good thing you can’t see how his eyes sparkle with hope.

“Don’t make me regret this.” You turn around and glare at him. “I mean it.”

“I won’t, I promise!” You hear him cheer outside as you get back to work, pulling a silly giggle out of you.

All you did for the past 4 years was trying to forget him. And you thought you did, until he showed up in front of you and brought all those feelings back. Maybe a few years are not enough to get over the one you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with and that makes you look forward to giving him another chance. But unfortunately you can’t just erase the bad times from your memory. You sent him away for a reason. He says he’s changed but you have your motives for doubting it.

The next day he takes you for a walk by the river. It starts off with awkward silence, none of you knowing how to talk to each other anymore. But as you take a seat in a bench facing the water you start to catch up. The way he talks is different but in a good way, like he’s not trying to put that bad boy facade anymore, he’s just the sweet guy you once knew. It really seems like he’s getting his life back together and you could almost see yourself fit in it.

The next date is a dinner downtown. Not a fancy restaurant, but he knows you’re not a fan of those anyways, just a cozy little place with great food. As you ordered you decided to test him and order yourself some wine. He didn’t seem affected by it, happily drinking his sparkling water as you eat and talk. Perhaps your tricky move triggered some instant karma because the wine glasses keep coming and in no time you’re seeing double. Lucas, takes you home, trying hard to follow your blurred instructions. He gets you inside, but just like a movie scene you trip and fall on your bed, pulling him on top of you. Your faces are inches apart and you can’t even think straight, but all you want is to feel those lips back on yours. However when you get closer he pulls away. The next moments fade from your memory as you pass out and when you wake up there’s a cute little note with water and a pill, just what you need for the pounding in your head.

Later that day he knocks on your door. Embarrassment takes over you but he doesn’t for one minute mention the previous night. He brings food, thinking you might not be in the mood to cook, and then he heads to the door but you ask him to stay. You two eat and then watch a movie, sneaking glances at each other not really caring about the plot.

The following date is a quick coffee at ‘The Vision’ as you have to work two shifts. You talk about college and how it’s been hard for you to get a job in your field after graduating, leading you to work here to pay the bills. Your heart skips a beat when he takes your hand over the table and tells you how he truly believes you’ll be able to achieve all your hopes and dreams. It seems like such a cliché thing to say but coming from him just hits differently. Luckily it’s time to get back to work because you don’t know how to deal with the desperate will to give it all up and get back with him.

With almost a week of dates with Lucas, you hate how easily you were brought right back into his spell. But at the same time it just felt so right. He really seems to have changed. During these days there were numerous occasions that, a few years ago, would’ve made him flip off just because. But now he seems more collected. Maybe things could really work out this time. Just maybe.

And there comes the end of the week. He picks you up late at night after your shift and takes you to a viewpoint facing the whole city. A beautiful scenario that looked quite familiar. Lucas pulls out some snacks and sodas before you sit and watch the lights below you.

“Cheeto sticks and Mango Monster?” You chuckle checking what he brought.

“It was a long shot but I hope you still like those.” He smiles.

“I can’t believe you remembered…” Shaking your head with a grin, you take a sip from your drink.

“How could I forget? Us driving around the empty streets late at night and ending up in places like this, talking about the future…” His voice trails off recalling all the broken promises made on those nights.

“Little did we know how things would turn out.” You sigh.

“There’s still time to turn things around.” Turning his gaze to you, Lucas examines your face trying to read it. “We can bring back those nights. And all the other moments we shared.”

“Even the ones you were out spending my money on booze and I had to carry you to bed because you were so wasted?” You scoff, closing your eyes.

“That’s not gonna happen again.” He promises.

“But how do I know, Lucas?” You finally turn to him. “You’ve made promises but that you didn’t keep! You said you’d get a job and instead you went out and got drunk everyday. You said you’d never hurt me but somehow I was still left heartbroken. You said you’d be by my side and then you left.”

“You were the one who told me to go!” He tries to fight back. “I didn’t want to but I knew it was the best for us! I needed to get better to keep all those promises. I don’t think you understand how hard it was for me to be away from you all this time.”

“If it was that hard to be apart what took you so long to reach out?” You get up and take some steps forward. “Didn’t you get out of rehab two years ago?”

“Because I needed to make sure I was good enough to come back!” Getting up too, he stands right behind you. “I needed to make sure I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. I wanted to get a job and make sure I was done drowning my sorrow with alcohol. I’ve been doing therapy, going deep into my problems, and it has really been helping me. But something’s missing. You’re missing.”

With the ends of your sweater, you wipe the tears off your cheeks, thinking about how hard it was for you too and how you kept waiting for him to reach out, even if you wouldn’t admit it.

“And I was scared.” He takes a deep breath. “What if I came back and you had moved on with someone else? Someone who treats you better. Someone who gives you all their time and support. Someone who loves you like I do. And worst, someone who you’d love more than you ever did me.”

Slowly you turn around and watch the moonlight shine on his wet cheeks, shoulders shaking and chest heaving.

“I know I have no right barging back into your life like this, but I had to try, one last time.” He shrugs, smiling through the tears. “I know I hurt you but I just wanted you to love me again.”

“How could I love you again, if I never stopped?” You catch a glimpse of his eyes widening as you run into his arms, connecting your lips after what seemed like an eternity.

You’ve made a lot of errors when it comes to Lucas, but for the first time if feels like you’re doing the right thing.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

a/n 2: not gonna tag anyone on this one as I don’t know how you feel about Lucas and also no networks, but I promise more works are coming!

[nqmonarch]

There is Nothing We Can Do

WARNING: Major spoilers for High Cloud Quintet Lore+Jing Liu story quest, Angst

You knew the day would come. Standing out at a singular tree, orange leaves standing cheerfully among the solitude.

Your memories were fuzzy amongst the smell of blood, and the pain. You were far away from it, burdened to only look on. Baiheng had sacrificed herself, still smiling in the wake of her destruction leaving nothing but a tuft of fur behind. Dan Feng and Yingxing struck with despair made quick work to try and bring her back. Then it happened, you'd never seen mara take a hold of someone so suddenly before. The pain it could bring out in a person's expressions.

Jing Liu had struck down Dan Feng by stabbing the top of his head yet Yingxing was struck over and over again. Jing Yuan had been at the front lines, had he even known what was happening? And you laid motionless, aside from the slow blink of your eyes, in a pool of your blood.

The three were dealt punishments. You didn't have it as bad as any of them. You'd only known Jing Liu as she'd taught you the sword, you'd followed along foolishly. You weren't even as talented as the few other students she'd taken, you truly were a fool. And now Jing Yuan, the last member and youngest of the High Cloud Quintet, stood next to you motionless.

"I knew something like this would happen. I should've said something," He spoke with more emotion then you'd ever heard him speak with. Normally he was more stoic, but now he was forcibly ripped open exposed to the horrors of the world.

"It's not your responsibility," Even you were older than him, but he didn't seem to like that answer only scowling further so you continued hoping you'd be able to say something to help, "It's in the past there is nothing we can do, other than move forward" You smiled at Jing Yuan feeling tears brim along your eyes as your throat began to ache from holding in its cries.

Jing Yuan cried first.

Now, how many hundreds of years later you stood before the tree you used as a makeshift burial site for everyone lost. Not just the High Cloud Quintet, but everyone. Not just those who'd died but those who'd lost themselves beyond repair.

Blade had appeared on the Xianzhou Luofu recently, and had escaped capture. At the news you'd rushed to Jing Yuan partially out of hope. You weren't sure why you cared so much for someone you'd never met, perhaps because you'd been witness to the darkest moments in their life?

You and Jing Yuan became close after the incident, not talking much but simply staying by each other's side, watching as they slowly changed. You watched as Jing Yuan put on more of an easy going, and enthusiastic mask. And he watched as you became more withdrawn and meticulous, refusing to mess up a single detail for the worries it would lead to unspeakable loss.

That lead you to where you were now, gazing from far away at the ongoing battle between Jing Liu and Blade. You didn't want to meet Jing Liu again, you knew the reunion would only be full of pain. Jing Yuan onlooking the battle and behind him, the reincarnation of Dan Feng looking away.

You waited, hating the finesse and perfection in every move Jing Liu made. A killing machine, and a person unable to be killed. A tragedy every time the story repeated itself, whether it be 700 years ago or now.

When it was over Jing Yuan approached you, the two of you held eye contact, and with no words spoken Jing Yuan closed his eyes. He had a bad habit of sleeping in any position. Something some would find funny but you found miserable. If the nightmares in your dreams are less scary than the nightmares in real life, than surely there is a problem. You'd talk to him about it if there were a solution.

You lifted Jing Yuan up onto your shoulders, and left, walking away from the scene where you'd seen people torn apart.

Now, there were only two of you.

One day only one of you would be left, holding with them the memories of these events.

But until then, and even after then, the battle would rage onward. There was nothing else you could but continue on.

Wonderful line from Jing Yuan's stories that hits hard: "Only the truly wise can stand proud in front of the undefeated enemy called time."

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: AIC 30

She came awake, murderous and blind. Aiko flashed chakra to her eyes and the world lit up. A little. It was definitely still dark, but more importantly her security had suddenly become alarmed and that wouldn't do at all.

The chuunin was confronting another one of her shinobi at her bedroom door- at least, the spectral figure looked like one of hers, in special operation whites. They must have come through the hallway window checkpoint- there were no entries directly to her room from the outside. So either the outside security had chosen to let them in, or that person was dead.

'I think I would have noticed a fight. But not if the security personnel had no chance to fight back.'

"Speak," Aiko said in a hard voice.

Her personal security didn't relax at all.

The special operations officer ducked their head. "Mizukage-sama," they murmured. It was difficult to describe the voice as anything other than soft. It wasn't particularly high or low, no rasp, or other identifying qualities. Possibly it was some kind of audible genjutsu, or possibly just disguising voices was in the curriculum. "We have apprehended a person who we believe to be a foreign agent. A patrol officer sensed someone in city hall and investigated. The intruder subdued the officer, but was taken into custody soon after."

She threw off the futon cover and slid out of bed. "I see. Identification code, please."

They rattled off a 10 digit series of numbers ending with the personal id number '892'. The first three matched a department she knew, the next four belonged to a subgroup that affiliated with…. She strained to remember Kiri's system. Ah, this person worked with Counter-Intelligence and rendezvoused with patrol teams. They probably had more information, then. She nodded and didn't take her attention fully away while she pushed open the closet door and found a long-sleeved shirt to pull over her head. "Wait a moment. Gaara?"

He shifted on his feet, the first sound he had made since materializing behind the intruder. "Yes, Aiko-sama?"

The Special Operations officer gave the smallest start.

Aiko did not smile. She did not. "Wake your sister, please, and stay with her."

He hesitated for a moment. Which was loyal, but- "Entertain yourself with one of your own projects," she urged, thinking of his library books. "This is something that I need to take care of. Thank you."

Apparently, she had reassured him enough. He nodded and disappeared into the house.

"Are you making certain that your small red friend does not gain information of value to Orochimaru-san?" Sanbi confirmed.

'Ah, you know me well.' She flipped her hair over her shoulders and gestured for the visitor to start walking first. The chuunin kept an uneasy position between Aiko and the masked officer, which was dutiful and not at all safe if they really were a threat. "When did this happen?"

"The intruder was observed about half an hour ago," came the muffled answer. "Stealthy pursuit and observation lasted about 12 minutes, the fight about five, and then reinforcements arrived on the scene. I was on the second team of reinforcements and came to contact you as the suspect was taken to interrogations. I left as he was escorted away."

Five minutes? That was a long time for a fight to go without one party ending up dead. Under most circumstances, that sounded to her like one party had been trying to do something other than kill- delay, capture, something. Had her agent been trying to capture alive and overextended their reach, or had the intruder been foolishly playing around and then lost their advantage?

Aiko felt her mind waking up, wondering at the possibilities. She usually liked her mysteries to start later in the day, but this did seem like a good one. "I would like to personally see them in custody. Anyone who has made it this far into Kirigakure is formidable, in preparation and intelligence if not ability."

"Of course." The officer gave a little bow, which looked a little strange since Aiko had forced them to walk ahead of her.

"This could be a trap," Sanbi said thoughtfully. "Perhaps this person is a spy. Or perhaps this is intended to walk you into an ambush."

'Mei has waited longer than I thought she would to try to kill me,' Aiko acknowledged. She grabbed a sword off the top of a dresser and buckled it on over her sleeping shorts as she walked. 'But at least for now, I will take this at face value. I will be careful, though. If you see anything that reads as unusual…'

"Of course."

Tactical Team Turtle remained on alert, but there wasn't even a half-hearted murder attempt. She met with the head of her Torture and Interrogations department while her escort faded away into the wall. Kiri's T&I was surprisingly small, by Konoha's standards. Kiri took less living prisoners. The head was a hard-faced man of about 60. She could only assume that Abe-san was simply too angry to retire.

"Jounin, or upper level chuunin." He paced like a cat, hardly giving his Mizukage a second glance. "No indication of affinity or bloodline limit. Clothes and weapons are all from Kirigakure, but she's definitely mainland."

Aiko bit her lower lip and turned to look at the kunoichi on the other side of the bars. It was hard to tell with her face all bloodied up, but it seemed like the infiltrator was a teenager. Maybe 15, 16. Slight build, healthy looking skin, a bit more muscled than you'd expect throughout her upper back and shoulders. She either liked building muscle or did something a little unusual, maybe used some kind of large weapon, or did a lot of free climbing? Judging by her apparent good health, she'd either come from one of the wealthier villages, or was from a privileged social strata in one of the smaller ones. A clan member, or daughter of someone wealthy.

"Fighting style?" Aiko asked. The prisoner looked up to give her a little sneer and then tossed her head.

Abe grunted. "She used poisons, but she's either mediocre or wants us to think she is."

There was a flash of irritation on the girl's face, and she turned away.

"Weapons?" Aiko asked.

Abe shrugged. "Had wire, shuriken, and a short blade on her. Only used wire in the fight, trying to garotte. Hoping to end it quietly and continue the mission, probably. Not strong enough to finish things that way, turned to hand-to-hand, delivered a poison carried under her fingernails."

She felt a tinge of doubt at his words, but Aiko gave an appreciative nod. "Thank you." She tilted her head, taking the infiltrator in one more time.

If she had been kitted-out with local goods, it meant her operation was either well-funded or done with inside help. She might have been impersonating one of their operatives, possibly for some time. At a glance, the girl fit in well enough. She had one of the broader faces so common in the older families around the western islands, a suntan, and a proud tilt to her chin.

Actually, long-term infiltration really might have been the angle. There were a lot of faces going in and out of Kiri lately, and a younger operative was likely to have a lower rank and attract less suspicion.

Well. Time would tell. Aiko took a step back and nodded to Abe. "You're authorized." But she also gestured for him to follow her. His second stepped up to the cell as they passed. She led him silently down the hall until they were far enough for her to pose a question.

"She's downplaying her strength," Abe said, before she could ask. He cracked an unpleasant smile. "Fujiwara actually cut through the wire, this girl nearly overpowered him. I think she decided mid-fight that she was going to get captured, and decided to look weak in order to leave herself wiggle room to get out. I want to give her a chance to try whatever it is she thinks she can do."

Aiko nodded, feeling reassured in his judgment. It really wasn't that hard to garotte someone, and this girl looked like she could do it. "Is it possible that the initial goal was to be captured?" she asked. "Failing to kill with poison in this situation is odd, since she can't have been hoping to take a hostage. It could be just that she doesn't know what she's doing, but that's hard to reconcile with a person who chose to deliver it via her hands. An inexperienced agent could easily make a mistake and poison themselves that way. I think that she didn't want to kill, because that would make it much more likely that we would execute her."

Abe nodded agreement. He seemed pleased by the analysis. "It's a possibility. It truly could be that a mistake was made when selecting Kiri-based weaponry, or that it was due to lack of options. But it is more interesting to wonder if this was a competent operation to get an operative in custody." He tapped the concrete wall of the prison, underneath one of the administrative buildings. "Which begs a few questions."

Aiko smiled at her agent, because it was nice to be around people who thought of puzzles the way that she did. "Well, let's ask them. Thank you, Abe-san."

He gave her a grim smile in return, with warmness in his brown eyes. "The write-up from the encounter is preliminary, I'll have more information to you as I have it." He dug within his flak jacket for twice-folded piece of paper that Aiko took. No, it was two pieces of paper, with narrow handwriting.

They exchanged nods and then went their separate ways.

Aiko took her thoughts to her office. Her first instinct was to point a finger at Orochimaru, because he had already installed one agent in her home and had a personal grudge against her. He might have assumed she had a weakness for kids, especially if he realized that she still had Gaara. And it was possible that this girl could have hoped to make contact with Karin, might still manage it. Or her mission could have been separate.

But Orochimaru wasn't the only village out there interfering in Kiri. Someone had tried to poison her people, or done it in order to sour the alliance with Nadeshiko. It could be Nadeshiko, one of Nadeshiko's enemies, one of Kiri's enemies, a neutral party who stood to lose something if they joined forces….

Could be Konoha. They had their spymaster in the country already. If he was going to go around starting conversations with people who looked like Kiri shinobi, sending a young woman would be a good method to disguise the communication.

Suna. They had responded to her message to say that they would send a delegation, but they had to be cautious. It was probably half to placate her, being that they were so weakened at the moment. Could be Suna loyalists looking to protect Temari's team, could be a rival group looking to delegitimize it to prevent her from taking power in the vacuum.

Or, hell, it could be Kumo, because those guys were just really hard to read and uncomfortably close. Close enough for all sorts of shenanigans, and a likely place to produce a kunoichi who seemed young and strong enough to pull this kind of thing off. Aiko sighed and put away the prelim report when she was done with it.

She waited an hour to hear back, at which point her body was starting to complain more vigorously about her already stressful schedule being taxed by a lack of sleep. When she got the initial report- disappointing- Aiko sighed. She considered how good Obito had been at convincing people that they wanted to tell him things. She flicked her eyes absentmindedly between Rinnegan and Sharingan, wondering at how exactly he had done that. She should have asked before, probably.

Well. She'd start looking out for opportunities to practice that kind of thing, then. It seemed wasteful to try it on this girl, though. If her first attempt went sour, she would have lost out on any chance to gain intelligence on the situation.

Irritable and exhausted, she went back home as soon as the full security sweep had come back clear. It was about 4 in the morning when the last team signed off and she crept through her house. It was dark and quiet, so she went back to her room without trying to talk to the kids. It was better that someone had gotten some damn rest.

She was back in bed for 23 glorious minutes before she had the sudden feeling of imminent doom.

"Aiko-sama." Gaara stood at the foot of her bed, arms crossed over his chest.

She sat up blearily. "Good morning," Aiko said. She tugged at a pillow that had migrated halfway down the bed at some point. "What time is it?" It was still dark in her room- the only light was coming from down the hallway. Fuck. Really? Really?

Gaara just looked at her, as though the question was completely incomprehensible.

"The boy does not sleep," Sanbi reminded.

Ugh. As soon as Konoha knew she had been lying to them about the Ichibi, she was going to pay Jiraiya to fix Gaara's seal. That wasn't the kind of thing she felt comfortable experimenting with, but the boy deserved some peace.

"What did you want to talk about?", she went with. Aiko rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and half-wished that Mei would kill her already so this bullshit would be someone else's problem.

Sanbi made a deeply unhappy noise.

"You need to arrest two of your shinobi," Gaara said promptly.

She eyed Gaara over her wrist. "For amusement value, or..." She trailed off as she remembered one of Gaara's assignments. "Oh, the poisoning?" She threw off the bedcovers and grimaced at the cold. Aiko resigned herself to it. This was clearly going to be the worst kind of day. "Who is it?"

Gaara stepped to the side slightly as she put her feet on the floor and rose into a stretch. "One of the chuunin recently interviewed," he said. He watched her run fingers through her hair and pull on thick leggings to ward off the cold night air. "They were an accomplice."

"Oh, shit," Aiko said with feeling. She wrinkled her face into a scowl. "I really would have guessed that the twins were either both innocent or both guilty."

Her apprentice gave her a doleful look.

Mei or Utakata would have taken that as a chance to say something witty. Aiko sighed and snagged more clothes off of hangers. She tossed the undershirt and sweater on the bed and began unfastening the slacks. "And?" she prompted.

"One of the former political dissidents who returned when you allowed it." Gaara did not seem particularly approving. "I found them by researching who returned to the village around the time of the shipment."

Aiko paused, one leg in her pants. "Are you saying that you assumed that one of my chuunin was guilty, and then looked for connections?" she asked. She felt vaguely insulted by it as she zipped up and pulled a long-sleeved undershirt over her head.

"Yes," said Gaara, who did not have much faith in her shinobi. "Many of your shinobi who never left the village had ties to shinobi who returned. This causes them to be compromised, if they wish to protect their friends."

"Everyone wants to protect their friends," Aiko said dryly, the instant that her head was out of the neck on her sweater. She pushed the sleeves of her coziest sweater up to her elbows and glanced around for socks.

"Not everyone's friends have previously expressed their hatred for the citizenry of the village," Gaara pointed out.

She stopped in her tracks, mismatched socks in hand. Then she gave her apprentice a wounded look, as though it was his fault that he was right. "Some of them are nice people," Aiko pointed out. "There were good reasons to leave."

"I do understand your policy," Gaara said. He looked bored beyond belief at the concept. "The former political dissident is Yama Shuu. He left as a jounin and was reinstated as a chuunin, pending mental health assessments before returning to rank."

Aiko let out a gusty sigh. "I don't think he's going to pass them." What a pain in the ass. They could have used another jounin.

Gaara's eyes tracked over to her and then away. He didn't respond.

Ah, well. He was here on business after all. "Motivation?" Aiko asked.

"Yama-san blames Kirigakure as a whole for the toxic culture that resulted in the bloodline purge," he said, more comfortable on topic. "He was not associated with any clan, but fled when the order to purge was given."

She sighed. "So either just because he disagreed with it, he thought more killing would come, or that he possibly had some bloodline connection that might have gotten dug up," Aiko summarized. She felt tired. All she had energy for was pulling her hair back in a way that hopefully disguised any bedhead. "Evidence against him?"

"He has one of the missing containers," Gaara said, sounding offended at this sloppy work. "Possibly he intended to use the tainted food in another location."

"Ugh," Aiko said, disgusted. That was fairly damning. "When did you discover this?"

Gaara shifted his weight slightly, the first chink in his armor that she had seen today. "Recently," he hedged.

She folded her arms and looked down at him. "You just came here from wherever he lives, didn't you?"

He looked away.

"And he didn't see you at all? We do need to move fast. If he's a jounin, he might well notice someone was in his space." She started for the door and stalked down the hallway.

"He awoke," Gaara said, sounding stiff and defensive.

Oh, no.

She stopped in her tracks.

"I have restrained him."

Well, that boded well. Didn't sound fatal or anything. Considering Gaara's track record of problem solving, not murdering was a definite plus.

...It was factually true, but she just didn't feel that reassured.

"I have broken his arms and legs. As a precaution."

Ah. She turned around to look at her apprentice, unamused. "Was that necessary?"

Gaara didn't meet her eyes. "Yes. He would flee on his legs, would he not? And make handsigns for a shunshin or other such techniques."

Aiko inhaled, closed her eyes for a moment, and considered how it actually sounded like Gaara must have broken all the man's fingers in order to be certain that he would not be able to perform any jutsu. There was a certain brutal practicality to it. As a solution for a person with few, if any, resources to fall back on, she could understand it. She would do it, in the right circumstances.

But being the student of the Mizukage, a person who knew many powerful and resourceful people- those were not the circumstances of harsh desperation.

"Are you going to give a lecture about bringing proper supplies?" Sanbi asked.

'And a team,' Aiko answered, annoyed that she had to spell this out. That was the more important part. Gaara was not a lone wolf. He could have asked her, or pretty much anybody to go along with him. Two people could have much more easily handled the unpleasant surprise of disturbing their target. And one of them could have stayed to watch the prisoner, instead of breaking half their bones to be sure he wouldn't escape.

She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Tsunade- her Tsunade, the one who had had to beat the same lesson into Aiko's head again and again. Shit. She totally deserved this student, didn't she.

"Half his bones? Not nearly. Humans have many bones," Sanbi said carelessly. "Do not exaggerate."

That was totally not the point, not even a little.

She did not deserve Sanbi, probably, but she had him. So she sighed and did what she had to. Yama-san's poor broken body was taken into custody, and a messenger was sent to divert Oda Aoi onto a mission roster that was leaving at first light, in response to new information that would require more firepower. The poor woman would have to hustle, given that she'd get the message 20 minutes before she was required to be at the gates, but it was still better. There was no sense in risking Aoi getting involved when her brother was taken into custody. He would be there when she got back, one way or another. Innocent and free, or guilty and awaiting judgment.

Kai did not actually have a chance to escape- his residence was surrounded by agents who moved in once his sister was off of the premises- but it was still surprising that he reportedly made his bed, ate half a bowl of rice and some miso soup from a packet, and then ambled out onto the street to surrender.

Guilt? Aiko wondered. Or just a desire to retain a bit of dignity?

Still, it did seem to put the nail in Gaara's theory. Just for that, she considered tossing her water at Oda Kai when she heard her people bring him into the secured interrogation area that Yama-san had only recently left. She had had faith in him, damnit, completely unwarranted faith based on her relationship with her twin.

"Ah. After all, you are so close," Sanbi said dryly. "You have a twin?"

Aiko told him to shove his attitude someplace rude.

She dealt with the poisoner first. He cut a pathetic figure, even after some medical treatment. Gaara had indeed broken his hands, and that was delicate work to reverse. They were swollen purple lumps under white bandage. His legs were better- splinted professionally, and slightly raised. They'd be better within a week, with continued treatment.

So her terrorist suspect was balancing on the very edge of his ass with both legs in the air and arms resting gingerly on a plastic table when she came in.

It was not a sight to strike fear.

"Good afternoon." She let her voice come out just as unimpressed as she felt, not bothering to reach for the manners she'd apply to any random person on the street. He'd been rude first, what with the murder and all. "I apologize for my apprentice's enthusiasm, but you have bigger problems, don't you?" Aiko pulled out the lone seat and settled on it like a queen.

Yama-san still hadn't looked at her, though he had flinched at the sound of her voice.

She sighed. "You present an irritating counterargument to my initiative to reintegrate political dissidents," Aiko said. She let her real annoyance come out. "Selfish, don't you think? Good men and women left their country reluctantly, because it was in the fist of a madman. And now you've given my political rivals a good, solid justification to say that they should all be hunted down because they left, even though the culture has changed to prove that many of those who left were in the right. Is that what you wanted?"

Not that she had many political rivals. At least, not many who had revealed themselves. There was someone waiting around, she had no doubt. There always was.

Yama-san seemed to draw further into himself. Good. Perhaps he was ashamed. It seemed like his profile was accurate, at least.

"Do you deny it?" Aiko demanded, just to be clear. He had already confessed, but she wanted to hear it.

"No." He said it sullenly. "I wanted to hurt as many people as possible. They're weak. They cowered when that bastard ruled. They deserved it."

"You were really bad at it," Aiko pointed out. Her tone slipped into a little bit of mockery. "I was served some- did you know that? I and my apprentice. I suppose you wish we'd eaten that. But it was not terribly subtle- how foolish was it not to stick around to ensure that the damaged foods went to people who would not know?"

Yama let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. That could mean a couple of things.

"You have two options."

The prisoner looked up, but there wasn't much hope on his face.

Aiko didn't smile at him, because there was mocking someone for failing to kill you, and then there was being a real dick. She wasn't interested in further torturing this man. He'd already lost. "The punishment for treason is death," she said. "No matter how sympathetic I find your reasoning for leaving Kirigakure, what you have done is inexcusable."

"Why are there two options, then," he asked dully. "Is it a matter of if I want to be beheaded or poisoned?"

She snorted. That was a dumb question. "State executions need to be uniform," Aiko dismissed. "No, your options are to walk to your execution, or to go under an experimental genjutsu. If it is successful, you will have no recollection of the last months, and will therefore receive no punishment such as demotion or prison time."

His eyebrows floated up in disbelief. "No consequences?" he said, skeptical. He huffed through his nose. "You're weak."

"There's a pretty good chance that the genjutsu will have side effects, assuming it doesn't drive you entirely mad," Aiko admitted. She shrugged. She did not have a great record with this. "Perfecting it would be very useful for me, but I'm afraid that I don't often find a good chance to practice on someone who could be watched after to track symptoms that would allow me to refine the genjutsu. If it goes well, you will lose several months of memory, but you'll wake up a loyal citizen of Kirigakure."

That, at least, she knew she could do for a fact. She'd done that a dozen times, at least. She could already change what a person believed. It was subtracting information that she was interested to try out.

He was silent and pale. "Ah," he finally managed. A shudder wracked his body.

"The only reason that the punishment for treason is death is as a deterrent. I admit that I'm not certain it is effective," Aiko readily admitted. It didn't matter what she told him, he wouldn't be talking about it later either way. "But as you indicated earlier, we cannot have a state where citizens believe they can harm our people without consequence. Key here is belief. Either your status as a citizen, or your belief can be ended. Your only collaborator has been secured, so there is no concern that someone will walk away from this with the lesson that violence will go unpunished."

"And we are more useful to you alive," he said bitterly.

"For information and as employees, yes." Aiko nodded. And as though it was an after thought, she added, "Although we could make use of fertilizer, of course. You may have heard about our push to produce more of our foods locally, it's very exciting."

She watched him flinch.

"Aiko," Sanbi said, sounding disgusted.

'I want him to think about the consequences,' she thought back, unrepentant. 'Not decide in a moment of stubborn, misplaced nobility that he'll die for his ideals of struggle against Kirigakure. Dead is dead, life has possibility.'

"You can decide now, or anytime within a week." Aiko unfolded her arms and straightened away from the wall. She looked down at him without tilting her head. "You can convey your decision to your jailors at any point, or wait until I return to ask you in 7 days. Unless you have an answer for me now?"

He was breathing heavily, the whites of his eyes showing. He let out a wild laugh. "It's not much choice, is it?" he choked out.

"People who poison food supplies get less choices than other people," Aiko said coldly. "It'd be one thing if you had tried to get revenge, or struck out at people who you thought were going to cause harm. I could understand that. It could even be patriotic, assuming you were successful. But you don't get the moral high ground here. You just wanted to hurt as many people as possible. Obviously, an antisocial mindset like that cannot be tolerated."

He ducked his head to look down at the plastic table his hands were on. It could have been shame, repentance. It could also be stubborn deception.

Aiko waited a long moment, giving him a chance to give an answer. When none came, she turned and swept out.

"Would you actually use him for fertilizer?" Sanbi asked, sounding amused but genuinely curious.

She wrinkled her nose. 'Not for anything that we might eat. I'm fairly certain that's a health risk. Maybe some trees, though?'

"Ah. That is reasonable. I do like trees."

"Everyone likes trees," she responded, feeling a bit cheered at the thought. Nice, calming trees. No one had ever tried to murder her with a tree, no tree had ever attacked her, trees were useful and pretty-

"You have low standards," Sanbi said thoughtfully.

Eh. Anyway.

Mokuton. That would be a nice thing to do today. She would steal away some time to work on that after the workday was done. It would be a lot better for her nerves than trying out her sharingan.

But for now, the work day had to begin in earnest. Coffee was made, mail was received, and she summoned Gaara in for a performance review right before she was going to talk to her advisers about the incident's conclusion.

"Overall, you've been doing well." She leaned back in her chair and hooked a foot around the bar under her desk. Gaara met her eyes with a total lack of concern. "Before he left for Wave country, Tazuna-san gave me a positive report on your intelligence and diligence through your work with him, and I am also very encouraged that you have, overall, been very gentle," she said. It came out a little wry, because of the incident this morning. "Your stability lately bodes very well for your future leadership roles. I'm also proud that you resolved the largest problem that I have given you so far. Successfully investigating an incident of sabotage speaks well to your deductive capabilities." She cocked her head at him. "What, do you think, you could have done better?"

Gaara shifted his weight very slightly towards the back. Another boy might have looked down at his feet.

She raised her eyebrow and waited.

"I could have broken less bones," he said, sullen. It was hard to hear him.

Aiko gave an encouraging nod. "That's true," she said, in a tone of light praise. "You did perfectly in the context of a one-man mission. However-"

She stopped. Her tired brain had belatedly made a connection between the story and just how diligent Gaara was at obeying orders.

Gaara looked guilty.

Aiko gritted her teeth, sucked in a deep breath, and resisted the urge to run her fingers through her hair. "You didn't go alone. Did you."

It was not really a question. Gaara looked shifty, but he nodded.

She looked at him for a long moment. "I did tell you to keep your sister with you," Aiko started, because she really should have expected this. She stopped. She took a deep breath and actually did run her fingers through her hair. "I meant for you to keep her out of trouble, not that you were authorized to take her out on a mission."

Gaara tilted his chin up. "That is what she said," he ground out. His tone went flat. "After we had first subdued Yama-san. With a rope," he added, as if it was important for her to know that he had initially intended to do things the way that she would prefer.

Aiko closed her eyes and took a minute. She let out a long sigh. "Well, in that case. It was a good idea to bring back up. In the future, please bring backup who does not need to conceal their presence on the mission, if plausible."

Her apprentice nodded.

She eyed him a long moment and thought it over. She leaned forward. "How did it go? Did you work well together?"

Gaara took a moment to answer, but then gave an uncertain nod. "It was- acceptable," he said.

Ah. Aiko pursed her lips, imagining how those two would be as a team. Scary, that's how. She liked it. "Cool." She tapped her fingers against her chin. "I might have you two do some other missions together. But do not do that again." She made sure she was holding eye contact when she emphasized, "Ever. Never ever. Do you understand me?"

He grunted. "I understand." Gaara cleared his throat. "When we report the encounter to Terumi-san and Utakata-san, shall I disclose Karin-san's presence?"

"Oh. God, no." Aiko leaned away from that suggestion. "I would never hear the end of it. You both keep your mouths shut. If anyone asks you why you didn't bring assistance, tell them that I had authorized it."

"And if they ask why there are so many broken bones?" Gaara asked, sounding just a little bit guilty.

Aiko shrugged, telegraphing the movement to banish his sad little mood. "Tell them that you saw he was the kind of monster who puts the toilet paper on backwards," she said flippantly. "You don't have to justify yourself to anyone but me. And a kiri-nin might not think to ask, anyway."

"Yes." Gaara nodded decisively. "I will remember it." He lifted his chin just that little bit higher.

Nishikawa-san knocked on the door and peered inside. He looked tired. "Mizukage-sama," he murmered. "Terumi-san and Utakata-san are here to see you."

Aiko exchanged a look with Gaara, willing him to be cool. "Send them in."

Her assistant drew back. Mei breezed in, a smile playing at her lips. Utakata was at her heels looking annoyed. The combination told a familiar story.

"So." Mei seated herself on the softest chair and crossed her legs. "I went down to see our newest guest." Her eyes sparkled. "Gaara, dear, why did you do that?"

Aiko felt her muscles seize up, but not one was looking at her.

Gaara sneered. "He put his toilet paper on the wrong way. He deserves to die."

Utakata gave Aiko a quizzical look, safely out of Mei's sight. She tried not to give anything away in her face. Stern. Solemn. Yes, this was a reasonable thing that her young man had just said. She gave a firm nod.

Mei faltered. She looked between Gaara and Aiko. Her mouth opened for the obvious question- which is the wrong way?- and then she clearly thought better of it. Her smile turned strained. She tossed her head and suddenly seemed more interested in talking to Aiko. "Has our lady guest from this morning said anything?"

[icebreaker01]

S4E8 Predictions

Again, I can not stress this enough! I have a shovel! It is a very BIG shovel! I use it to go digging for things on the internet about Snowpiercer! Sometimes I find fun things, some times I find things I do not want to find, and sometimes I find things that strongly hint on what is to come by simple logical thought. Therefore: If you do not want to know what is coming, it is STRONGLY suggested you not read this. Does it contain SPOILERS? Not directly. But it does contain, again, extremely well thought out logical conclusions from previews. Am I always right? No. But sometimes better safe than sorry, hey?

So, lets get into the next episode. In the previews, several things are shown. One that makes me happy is that poor little Javi, though appearing unconscious, is still in one piece. Now this is not all good as that ONE, he is unconscious, meaning he was still close enough to the bomb when it went off to catch some of the discharge, and TWO; he is not laying on tracks. It looks more like solid ground, suggesting he may have been thrown off the train trestle by the force of the explosion. Lets face this down, folks. We have already lost two engineers. Without engineers, the people left on earth, especially our intrepid little group, stand a zero chance of survival. (Remember this when your children are considering a career. Earth needs engineers!) Now, with it clearly pointed out engineers are the most endangered species currently on the show, allow me to put a theory out there that flies in the face of everything I have read on this subject. Is Javi yet another casualty of the insane writers vendetta against engineers? (Goes searching for a coin to flip.) Is Wilford really gone? My theory is ‘No’. Why? Because Sean Bean is well past the ‘I am sick of not being invited to the wrap party because my character died halfway through the show’ stage. Also, the blunt he smoked was laced with a Headwood concoction. As fanatically dedicated as that lunatic was to Wilford, I do not see her providing him with a way to end his life. More likely I would suggest that blunt was laced with something that gave the appearance of shucking the mortal coil, and the person would revive later. Why do I think this? If I remember things right, Wilford was in the last cars with Layton and Josie that got disconnected. Now those two, while good fighters, are no electronic wizards. And yet, Layton was able to find (or MAKE) a radio device to call for help as shown in the preview. My theory for this goes like this: Wilford, in the second car left behind, wakes up, comes forward, and tells Layton and Josie if they want to survive they will not kill him again, and he manages to either contact Snowpiercer (which honestly at this point I have lost track of exactly where which train is) to rescue them, or somehow manages to make those two train cars move on their own. And quite frankly, having FINALLY been allowed to see ‘Wilford the engineer’ at work, I firmly believe this man could make an engine out of three bobby pins and some bellybutton lint.

Do I think Layton et all are dead? No. Why? First off, you do NOT kill babies on shows. That is just a solid no-no. Next, previews of episodes going forward clearly show Layton in New Eden when the Rat Squad arrives. How do I think he survived?

(The author stopped here because she foolishly found a recap of episode 8 and even more foolishly watched it. She is now going off to sit in a corner for while to contemplate just how wrong her predictions in this installment are and keep telling herself that Wilford is not dead.)

If by chance you do want to check out the episode 8 recap by Weeping Cross Breakdown, I highly recommend it. He makes some excellent points about what happens in E8 and the inconsistencies in other characters exits from the show that just don’t make sense.

Also, I’m not saying anything about the attack on New Eden because A) I have prior knowledge about that scene, B) I think what they do is a loving head nod to the original movie, and C) it makes no sense.

And did I NOT tell you we needed to kill little weasel Nima? DIDN‘T I!?!

[scaly-freaks]

I've loved you since I was 15, from far away of course, and I never realised how much I liked you until now. I put the pin here (qtm) because you talk a lot about liking it here, hopefully one day you find what I have wrote for you. There are so many things that are similar about us, perhaps in the ways we grew up, but a lot more that are different, maybe I cling to the parts that are similar to make me feel like I have a friend even though we are nowhere near each other and I doubt we will ever meet. A big sister to take care of me, or I can take care of you. Whatever works.

I guess, as I've said before, I don't really know you and I don't really know if you still date girls, let a lone girls like me. I'm dark under my eyes and also in them, ever tired and I haven't been pretty since I was in school.

If we were to have a story of our own, I think you would have to be Victor Hugo, whose death caused so much sadness amongst Paris that the brothels he frequently visited had to close on the day of his funeral. But you were always the smartest to me, so I have no idea why I am explaining a historical simile to you. 

You seem the type to leave a mark wherever you go, sad or not, a mare with flowers in her hair that I let run loose through the moors because I would rather watch you live your life happy entirely and then return to me when it all gets too hard, even if it makes my heart ache. I want to be the one who stays next to you in your final days, like Forrest by Jenny.

I discovered you through your writing back then, everything I read on that site was terrible - your first drew me in but your second is what captured me. I know you have grown from that type of writing, and I have grown from reading it, but I find myself thinking back to how much you have developed as an author sometimes, and it makes me think I can too, foolishly. The last thing I ever read of yours ended with a poignant scene between two people staring at each other from across a kitchen, with the resounding idea shared between them and the audience that they had gone through a lot and whatever was to happen next would happen behind closed pages. I think it made me cry, weirdly. 

I told you you left marks. In first year they taught me about Knudson's two hit hypothesis, this relates to genetically heritable conditions, but I think I was born to end up a sad, angry bitch who will end up in hell or the other side of firing squad and that in itself might be a condition, but it only came to fruition because of the childhood I've had and the second hit, your writing. For better or worse, your writing has somewhat pushed me to be the woman that I am.

My brain does this thing where it brings up people I liked, or people who were nice to me even from long ago to remind me that I have people in my life who could love me, and I push that potential to its limits to keep me alive, live in my imagination where I get better and get married and have family and never want for anything again. That's what I might be doing with you.

Is it selfish to hope you never settle down? That we wear 80s wedding dresses, even though we did not marry each other, and run away to a sea side cliff, one of us dying from tuberculosis? It probably is. I hope you find happiness though, the truest form of it anyway. It won't be with me, but I imagine it like that to keep me alive most days.

Either way, I hope we meet one day, as friends. Or sisters, whatever.

Uhh okay so I wasn't going to post this at first because I kind of felt bad and didn't want to say something accidentally callous in response. I also kind of thought you might have sent it to the wrong inbox, because I genuinely couldn't place anything from this that suggested we've ever interacted (if you have actually followed me here from another fandom). I think it's touching my writing seems to have made such an impact on you, but I'm a little at a loss for words on how to respond to the rest. If we have interacted before via DMs, then I don't think there was any need to hide behind anon. I would have answered if you reached out. In this format, it's just a little...overwhelming. It's a lot, and I don't know what else to say except I hope you find peace in your life and I wish you the best.

[marjaystuff]

Lori Foster Interview

“The McKenzie Series” by Lori Foster are great reads. The stories are intense thrillers with characters that are relatable and identifiable. There is plenty of action, some humor, and family bonds. Each book has the serious subjects of human trafficking and abuse embedded in the emotional stories.

The first book in the series, No Holding Back, has the eldest son Cade McKenzie as the hero and Sterling as the heroine. All the family work behind the scenes to take down human traffickers along with Sterling. This is personal for her since the trafficker has ties to her past. 

The second book in the series is Stronger Than You Know with Reyes McKenzie as the hero and Kennedy as the heroine along with her friend, Jodi. The story delves much more into the background of why the family seeks justice. Both Kennedy and Jodi are still being pursued by the traffickers who kidnapped them and need Reyes and his family to help.

The third book in the series is Watching Over You with Madison McKenzie as the heroine and Crosby as the hero. Parrish, the matriarch of the McKenzie family hires Crosby to find out who is threatening their family. He and Madison must work together, which is where the attraction between them begins.

Elise Cooper: Would you ever consider writing a YEARLY series where you would have adventures of the TASK FORCE that include all the McKenzies and Jodi with Hunter? 

Lori Foster: I’d certainly love to, but my publisher would have to be behind the series, or I’d need to do them as an indie author. I’m not sure if either of those things will happen so I can’t commit to anything too far in the future. 

Writing action and “conquer all the evil” type heroes and heroines, is my absolute favorite writing endeavors. The world needs more heroes...of all kinds. 

EC: Why the topics of human trafficking and abuse:  what did you want the readers to understand?

LF: What I attempt to do in every book is to entertain readers. I would never presume to judge someone else’s mistakes because I’ve made plenty of my own. We all have different backgrounds, different perspectives formed from our upbringings. We have our good and bad influences and experience. What seems easy for me could be horribly difficult for someone else, and vice versa. That said, when I write, I like for my characters to tackle really big, believable problems. 

Human trafficking is such a large, looming, and growing real life problem that’s literally everywhere. Far, far too often we look past situations – even if we think something looks off, most people don’t want to get involved – so when I write it in a book, I have an opportunity to show how important those alpha people are. Alphas – male and female – will step up when others shy away. While some of us would worry about wrongly accusing someone, possibly giving an insult where none is intended, others step up and do what they can to help. 

Real life heroes exist, though the news so rarely focuses on them – so *I* focus on them... in my books. 

EC: In the second book of the McKenzie series, you introduce Jodi, which was the heroine in the book, The Dangerous One.  How has Jodi changed from book 2 to the latest book?

LF: Before: She was vulnerable, needed purpose, did not have direction, floundering in fear and hatred, feels alone, unhinged, wounded, and suspicious, had a fight or flight attitude.

Jodi changed because 1) she was given a chance for a different life, 2) she was shown a better way, and 3) she met people who cared. It’s a sad truth that far too many people are left to fend for themselves in the world. We all need love, positive feedback, emotional support, and good advice. Of course, we also must be willing to work for a better life, and to listen to those positive influences.  

LF: Now: She has a stand-in family with Parrish like a father, and Kennedy like a sister. All the McKenzies made her realize there are people out there who care. She can be disagreeable when worried, foolishly brave, sharply dangerous, yet realizes with Hunter she can trust again, and he realizes she has good instincts, as she tries to be independent. In the book, she also changes because she realizes she can never be “the everyday woman,” not after what she’s survived. And it’s okay that she’s different – especially since she finds her special someone who is also apart from “the everyday” type. Together, Hunter and Jodi are able to be themselves, with their sharpened senses, dangerous edges, and fine-honed instincts.

EC:  What do you see are the similarities and differences between the other females abused: Sterling, Kennedy, and Silver?

a.  Please describe each personality and how they react to danger

LF: Sterling, the heroine in No Holding Back, is driven largely by guilt and the need to make a difference. She escaped while others didn’t, and she knows if she doesn’t make the effort to help, her life will feel meaningless. It takes a person just as strong as her to match her determined personality, assist her in her efforts, and also allow her to be herself, to stand back and admit when she needs help. Cade is the person she finally trusts to see her vulnerability. Like Jodi, Sterling is full-steam-ahead, but unlike Jodi, Sterling is bigger and physically better equipped. LF: Kennedy is the heroine in Stronger Than You Know, which also introduces Jodi. She is the thoughtful one. For her, survival is all about understanding the situation and educating others so they understand as well. Through her published novels and public speaking, she hopes to better equip others to recognize danger and react accordingly. Kennedy is small like Jodi, but her soul isn’t as wounded. She doesn’t mind admitting when she needs help, which is something Jodi would find abhorrent. Kennedy is good at seeing people – their strengths and weaknesses – and what she sees in Reyes is someone who jokes about life rather than show his true feelings, but he’s serious when he needs to be, and he has a protective streak as big as his heart. Jodi, on the other hand, tends to view everyone as victims, abusers, or those who feel sorry for her. It took a lot for her to realize her own perspectives were skewed, that family, either blood ties or emotional bonds, was something altogether different. LF: Silver, a secondary character in Madison’s book, Watching Over You, wasn’t trafficked so much as she was in an abusive relationship. Her big thing is gratitude and, thanks to the assistance she received, moving forward in a steady, comfortable life... without any disruptions like romantic love. Unlike Jodi, she immediately embraces being part of a family, and she accepts and nourishes the familiar love she’s given, returning it with a lot of loyalty. Like Jodi, she’s a little suspicious of anything that rocks the boat. It takes the coaxing of a really good guy friend (the one who helped her out of her situation) for her to give love another shot – but I’m glad she did!

EC: Describe each member of the McKenzie clan.

a.  Parrish:  Can be Bossy and controlling but is very caring. He’s also motivated by his love for the woman he lost. Parrish is like a suave, super-polished wrecking ball determined to take out evil so no one else will suffer as his love did. He has the wealth, clout, and determination to go up against the devil himself – and while he knows he hasn’t been a perfect father, he loves his children fiercely.

b.  Cade:  Protective, former military, proficient, with quiet authority. Cade is also rebellious and enjoys butting heads with his father on nearly every issue. In many ways he’s a loner. He’ll protect his family – and all innocents – but he isn’t big on group think, and he definitely bristles at edicts from his father, while at the same time he likes order and discipline. Let’s call the man a contradiction, because he is! 

c.  Reyes:  Confidant, cocky, likes to irritate people, a teaser, and brash. He’s very much a lover, too, and doesn’t mind who knows it. A super physical guy. Though he’s also smart and motivated, with a bent for home design: he’s good with his hands. Although, he doesn’t particularly want anyone to know about those assets. He prefers the illusion of the super-sexy, cocky, annoying guy. 

d.  Madison: She is a tech guru, must deal with over-protective brothers, pushy, competitive, optimistic, and stubborn. To counter the take-charge tendencies of her brothers, Madison has worked extra hard for equal footing. She’s forthright to a painful degree, and usually only realizes that she’s overstepped after the fact. She loves her alpha family, likes herself as is, understands her own ability and she’s smart enough to realize it’d take one heck of a guy to really gain her interest. Once she finds him, there’s no holding her back. She’s a winner, and never gives up easily.

e.  Bernard:  Comic relief, gentle version of Parrish, advisor, like Alfred in Batman. Bernard is all heart! He knew Parrish and the “kids” needed him, so he readily stepped in to fill an impossible role – and excelled at it. He’s territorial, wise, and when he lets loose, it’s hilarious. 

EC:  Crosby is Madison’s love interest. There is a book quote that talks about Crosby’s profession as a police officer: “they are witnesses to the pain, hunger, neglect, abuse, and violent crime in society.”  Please explain!

LF: I have massive, MASSIVE respect for law enforcement. Are they perfect? No. Who is? Do I think the vast majority have the best of intentions? Yup. I can’t even imagine the amount of stress they’re under, or the heartbreaking things they see. 

I did a ride-along with a police office and he pointed out prostitutes everywhere. I had NEVER seen them. I had no idea. He showed me drug dealers. Once, in an evening ride-along in California (I was visiting the area) a cop flipped on his lights and people scattered in the most remarkable ways. Groups leaping over walls. Drug deals breaking up. Sex acts breaking up. Again, I’d had no idea! It really proved to me what a sheltered life I’d lead – and that so, so many were not as fortunate. 

EC: What is the relationship like between Cade and Sterling?

LF: Adversarial at first, because Sterling has a hard time trusting. But Cade immediately knew that she was different, and how she affected him was different, so he couldn’t give up. Their relationship is based on mutual respect of abilities – and so much more. 

EC: What is the relationship like between Reyes and Kennedy?

LF: She sees him as no one else does, and he’s immediately intrigued by her. Few women tell Reyes to get lost, so that hooked him, and his protective tendencies finished him off. That she would rely on him, and need him, not as part of his family but as an individual, meant a lot to Reyes. For Kennedy, being able to trust him without exception is important. To many, they might seem like opposites attract, but really they have more in common than outsiders realize. 

EC: What is the relationship like between Madison and Crosby?

LF: Crosby measures up! With examples like her brothers, she couldn’t get too excited over most guys. Plus Madison is really tall with lethal skills, and for her, the idea of being able to best a guy wasn’t that appealing. Crosby isn’t that easy – but at the same time, he respects and admires her ability. Beyond that, he sees her softer side, and he loves how she loves his family. Crosby fought it at first, but it was meant to be.

EC: Can you describe the task force? If not, it would surely be nice to have that-Is this your wishful thinking?

LF: It helps victims get counseling, legal representation, financial assistance, guidance, gives physical and emotional support. Their goal is to bust sex traffickers, abusers, and punish them.

This is mostly a Lori Foster’s dream world, where good guys win and bad guys perish, and the world becomes a better, safer place. Individuals need to be more proactive, so I like to imagine those characters and create their stories. 

I did base the task force off a real task force, but without the legal ties. My characters are a little more freewheeling with the law. Back when I wrote my first rescue from trafficking” stories: “The Men Who Walk The Edge of Honor series,” the law hadn’t quite caught up with the idea of human traffickers actively operating in rural and suburban settings here in the U.S. Now, if you go to a truck stop or a rest area off the highway, there are almost always posters in the bathrooms advising people what to do if they’re in a situation, or suspect they’re witnessing a situation, that could be abusive. There are dedicated phone numbers to call. Resources. Advisors. Law Enforcement and our military are educated on what to look for, how to recognize the signs. 

More and more women, children, and often men, are abused in trafficking situations for sex or forced labor. Look up the statistics – it’s absolutely staggering. I won’t spout statistics to anyone, but if you take 5 minutes to google the number of missing children, and those who’ve been trafficked, it’ll shatter your heart.

Politicians give lip service to solving problems, but on both sides of the aisle, they’re mostly concerned with maintaining their power and giving “their side” the win. We, the people, are never “their side.” 

EC: Next books?

LF: May 9th is The Little Flower Shop, set in a fun, small community of quirky people, featuring a 40 something florist and an almost 40 restaurant owner... plus the town full of characters, family ties, and pets galore. I laughed – and cried – while writing it. 

June 1st is Bray, one of my benefit books, which means all advance and all royalties for the life of the book go to the no-kill animal shelter, The Animal Adoption Foundation. I’ve done a benefit book every year for 19 years now. https://lorifoster.com/meet/#benefit 

December 26th is The Fearless One, featuring the second Osborn brother, related to The Dangerous One.  Memphis is like his brother, Hunter, in many ways, but he’s also different. More laidback, quick with a laugh, and when he falls in love, he doesn’t bother denying it or fighting it. All his focus is on keeping her safe – against any and all threats, and there are many. 

THANK YOU!!