#if Liam went in another direction I would have put my money on him being the most successful of them all

[teawaffles]

Forbidden Games: Chapter 4

Alan led the way as the two men proceeded down the corridor to another room. While he walked alone in front, the pair noticed the footsteps of several people following them from behind.

They seemed to be travelling to the back of the building, and apart from the people who were currently moving, there was no sign of life. Apparently, ‘normal’ participants could only play in that large hall from before.

“It’s gotten quite chilly, hasn’t it? As I recall, Mr Holmes, you’re not fond of the cold. Are you alright?” William murmured, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Sherlock himself wasn’t particularly sensitive to the cold, but he kept his expression static as he pondered the intention behind that statement.

In the next moment, William twitched the corner of his mouth upwards in a gesture that only Sherlock would understand. Recognising this, Sherlock understood everything, and promptly played along.

“That’s right. It does seem chilly. ——Liam, could you lend me your coat?”

“No problem, here you go.”

“Thanks.”

William held out the coat he had been carrying under his arm. Sherlock took it and immediately put it on. Then, he straightened the coat as he carefully checked how it felt on him.

“If you’re feeling cold, may I suggest we have a warm drink in one of these rooms before proceeding?”

Alan posed the question with a seemingly concerned tone. It appeared that he had taken William’s words at face value.

“No worries. Anyway, I’m also excited to see what kind of game you have for us. It’s almost like the shivers before a battle.”

At Sherlock’s words, Alan nodded happily.

“Is that the case? As the one introducing you to it, I’m pleased to hear that.”

At last, they reached their destination. Alan quietly opened the door and bid the duo enter. The two men shared a look, and went in silently.

The room was dimly lit, and roughly a quarter the size of the hall they were previously in. In the centre was a finely crafted round table, and surrounding it was a group of gentlemen standing in silence, staring at the new entrants.

It was an ominous sight, as if it were a secret ritual. The men’s expressions were unanimously mild, but there was also a keen sense of malice hidden underneath. Even so, having witnessed countless bloody battles and come out standing, William and Sherlock remained unperturbed amidst the disquieting atmosphere.

Sherlock looked at a corner of the room, and flashed a big grin.

“Yo, fancy meeting you here.”

Standing there was the noble’s son whom Sherlock had been tasked to find. Just like the other gentlemen, he was dressed sharply. Yet he lacked a trace of the dignity befitting a noble, instead glancing around his surroundings in sheer terror.

Having observed the young man’s appearance, William murmured a question to Sherlock.

“Is he the young man you were searching for?”

“Yep. It looks like he’s alive for now, but judging from his behaviour, it’s not hard to imagine how he was treated by these guys.”

After deducing the situation, they heard the click of a lock behind them.

Turning around, they saw Alan standing with his back to the door, a smile plastered on his face.

“As expected, you’re quick on the uptake. I sincerely admire your excellent deductive abilities.”

Sherlock snorted at his feigned courtesy.

“What’re you talking about? You’re the one who brought us here.”

“I thought it’d be pointless to keep this place a secret once you’d sniffed it out. Anyway, I reckoned I’d make sure to give him a proper welcome too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Still, what reason could you possibly have for locking up some noble brat? Are all these guys your accomplices too?”

Alan made a show of being astonished.

“We don’t do such perverse things as locking people up. All we pursue is the pure delight of a game, and the comrades gathered here today share in this goal. It is only when pleasure is kept secret that it ascends to a higher realm.”

“——So just like what you did to us earlier, you invited this man here, coerced him into playing some ‘thrilling game’ which he lost, then locked him in this room until he pays off his debt. Is that right?”

“…………”

William’s harsh words stripped away the veneer of Alan’s so-called lofty pleasures, revealing them to be but deceitful tricks. The man raised no retort, and Sherlock clicked his tongue.

“So, are you holding this noble’s son hostage for ransom? Or are you thinking of threatening him so that he’ll make arrangements for you when he inherits his estate? In any case, deceiving and threatening kids makes you no different from a stingy crook.”

Having been bluntly maligned, Alan finally shook his head in sadness.

“It’s utterly regrettable to be misunderstood in such a way. This man consented to play the game of his own free will. However, because he refused to pay up despite his defeat, I’ve had to keep persuading him ardently like this.”

“Persuasion…… so you say,” William retorted.

Having taught students of the same age, he did not hide his displeasure.

Then Sherlock pressed on, openly revealing his irritation.

“Well? Our goal here’s to bring him home safely, but as for you, you’re not going to let things go that easily, are you?”

Alan held out both arms, as if to express his admiration.

“Both of you have been a big help advancing the conversation so smoothly. But there’s no need to be afraid. We have no intention of committing barbaric acts. As I conveyed from the start, all I want to do is play a game with you, with all my heart and soul.”

“Damn you, if this was really just a game then there’d be no need to bet.”

“Doesn’t the risk of defeat just add to the excitement?”

“……Only your ability to make sophisms is first-class, huh.”

They seemed to be getting nowhere trading arguments with this man. Sherlock sighed, as if rendered speechless.

Taking over from the exhausted detective, William spoke up.

“In that case, would you release this man if we win your game?”

Alan nodded in enthusiasm.

“Precisely, since our motto is that all’s fair and square when it comes to games.”

However, Sherlock nudged William with his elbow.

“Liam, you don’t have to go out of your way to play along with them. If you leave it to me, I’ll beat these wimps to a pulp in seconds.”

Hearing Sherlock’s statement, Alan took a step back.

“Ooh, how frightening. In that case……”

He raised his hand. Taking that as a signal, one of Alan’s accomplices brandished a knife and held it to the young noble’s throat. Unable to even make a sound, the young man went white with shock.

“We have no choice but to respond appropriately.”

Alan’s friendly smile had morphed into a brutal one. Having seen the gentleman reveal his true nature, William finally looked at him with disgust.

“In other words, no matter how much we struggle to avoid it, we’ll be drawn into a game…… and although it wouldn’t be outright impossible, it would be difficult to call it ‘fair and square’.”

“This is all simply because we love games,” Alan said brazenly, with no regard for the hostility directed at him.

At that instant, the pair decided to crush this man.

“——Excellent.”

Sherlock spoke up. Even though it wasn’t said particularly loudly, his statement rang out across the room.

William continued in an exceedingly polite tone.

“The extent to which you wish to play games, that I have understood completely. Therefore, regardless of the outcome, I hope you will not regret your decision.”

“……Ooh.”

The pressure exerted by the pair’s fighting spirit had started to make Alan’s entire body tense up.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re in the mood now. By the way, what would you both like to wager on this match?”

At his question, the pair looked at each other.

“We demand that this man be set free. As for the price of our defeat…… Well, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Anything I want?” Alan doubted.

Immediately, William chimed in.

“Then it would be the same for me. In the event that we lose, be it money, my position as a noble, or the fruits of my academic research, please feel free to lay claim to any of them.”

Alan’s eye twitched at their careless manner of speaking.

“……I don’t suppose you both take me for a fool?” he uttered, in a deeply uncomfortable tone.

“That would be outrageous. It’s simply because I have conviction.”

“When Liam and I team up, no one can stand up to us.”

They were outnumbered in the enemy’s hideout. On top of that, the enemy had taken a hostage.

But even though it would seem to anyone that they were at a disadvantage, the duo’s voices were filled with confidence. Any listener would soon realise that it was not an act of bravado. The two of them had complete trust that their intellectual capacity and force of will far exceeded that of these petty villains.

“…………”

Having been struck head-on by William and Sherlock’s unshakeable conviction, an intense, hot hatred welled up in the pit of Alan’s stomach.

——In the past, Alan had been an influential noble with a vast plot of land in the vicinity of Durham. However, he had fallen into economic ruin with the Industrial Revolution and the current of the times. Simply put, he had begun to walk the path of his downfall.

He’d blindly believed his days of prosperity would continue for all eternity. Watching them fade away, Alan had sunk into the depths of despair, and desperately sought a way to assuage this sense of defeat.

To that end, he became absorbed in games. Whenever he and his opponent had agreed upon the rules and engaged in an earnest match, with him coming out the victor, Alan found that those indescribable highs were finally able to satisfy him.

Having grown aware of his appetite, upon finding out that there was a club established with the purpose of playing ‘games’, Alan immediately sought out his old friends in the nobility to gain admission. He then gathered like-minded people from within the club. Among the club members, he then would pick a target, covertly invite them to a game, and use brute force to achieve victory after victory.

Day after day they would rob nobles of their rights, with demands for payment which were unmistakably threats. His accomplices appeared to be satisfied by the profits, but Alan was different. He wanted to look down upon his opponent and use any means necessary to make them surrender.

Therefore, even now, as he held a noble’s son as a hostage, Alan refused to negotiate. He only desired to win the game. No matter what absurd sequence of events was taking place.

However, these young men were different. Even in the midst of danger, they were calm and composed, with no expectation at all that they would be defeated.

Faced with a type of person he had never met up till now, Alan not only remembered what it felt like to be irritated, but also chuckled inwardly to himself: it would surely be a pleasant experience to tear them down.

Once again, he put on a boastful smirk.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll be the one to decide the price of your defeat.”

“Fine by me. Well then, what game shall we play?”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 4

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​​​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​​​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 Epilogue 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian felt as though he were swimming up from the bottom of the ocean.  Everything was dark and still, the sounds around him muffled, as though he were hearing them through the water. And then suddenly the water cleared and he pushed through the surface.

 The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was her face, her beautiful radiant face looking down on him with hope and perhaps a bit of trepidation.

 "Swan, at last!" he whispered past a throat as dry as sandpaper.

 How he knew her name he had no idea, but know it he did, just as he had the strangest feeling he knew her--had communicated with her, had a connection with her.

 Given the standoffish way she'd treated their one previous encounter, he expected her to pull away, to become defensive at his familiar use of her name, but she surprised him.  Instead of shying away, she smiled at him, let her hand linger on his cheek a moment longer and simply said, "Welcome back."

 A nurse came in at that moment, and Killian looked around in surprise.  For the first time, he realized he was in a hospital.

 "What--" he croaked before taking a sip of water the nurse brought him. "What happened?"

 "We were rather hoping you could tell us that," replied a handsome black man who stood at a discreet distance.

 "Killian, I'd like you to meet Merlin Emrys,"  Emma said. "It's thanks to him we were able to find you."

 Killian held out his hand, and shook Merlin's.  "You have my thanks."

 "You're most welcome," Merlin said with a smile, "but I assure you I was only a small part of the puzzle.  You owe your waking to Miss Swan here--to her and to the connection you share."

 It was odd, Killian thought, that neither he nor Emma had introduced themselves to each other; it was even more odd that it felt as though such an introduction would be redundant.  What had happened to them to make them feel as though they'd known each other for decades?

 Soulmates, a small voice inside of him insisted.

 "You have my deepest gratitude," Killian said, looking around at the two people with him, "both of you."

 Emma took his hand, squeezing it gently.  "Do you remember anything about...whatever it was that brought you here?"

 Killian thought intently for a moment, closing his eyes to help himself concentrate.   "I remember…" He looked up at Emma. "I remember you, love.  I remember running into you, quite literally, and then I came across a scuffle in an alley.  I tried to intervene and was struck from behind, and then...nothing."

 "Killian," Emma said gently, "that was half a year ago.  You were declared dead, and your family interred you in the family mausoleum.  Do you know how that could have happened?"

 Killian shook his head.  "I have no idea, love.  It is a mystery--"

 Suddenly the flower vase on the bedside table crashed to the floor, making Killian jump.

"What the hell?!" Emma exclaimed.

It was me!

Killian jumped in the bed.  He’d heard the voice as clearly as he’d heard Emma’s exclamation, but the voice wasn’t in the room; it was in his head.

“Did you….did you hear that?” he asked, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said.  She looked as disconcerted as he felt.  “Merlin?  What’s happening?”

Killian turned to look at the other man in the room, but he wasn’t paying them any mind.  His attention was focused near the nightstand and the shattered vase.  For a moment, he merely stared intently, and then he nodded, as though acknowledging someone--or something--neither Killian nor Emma could see.

“Emma,” Merlin said, finally turning back toward the bed, “do you remember when you first came to me, I sensed another spirit with us?  An angry and quite desperate one?”

Emma furrowed her brows.  “Um...yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“He’s with us now,” Merlin said.  “He’s the voice you heard, and he’s responsible for the broken vase.”

“Okay…”

“Killian,” Merlin said, “his name is Arthur.  Arthur Pendragon.  He says he made a terrible decision.  He borrowed a good deal of money from the mobster known as Hades.  The business venture he’d gambled the money on fell through, and to put it mildly, Hades was not pleased.”

“Clearly things went rather badly for him after that if he’s a ghost,” Killian said slowly, “but I’m afraid I don’t follow.  What does this Arthur Pendragon have to do with any of us?”

It was me!!

This time the shout in his head was so loud it was nearly deafening.  Killian scowled, glaring in the general direction of the nightstand where he assumed the spirit was standing--or whatever it is that spirits do when they’re haunting the living.

“Seems like someone’s impatient,” Emma said dryly.  “Merlin, how about you stop with the vagueness and just spit it out.  Who is -or I guess who was- Arthur, and why does he insist on yelling at us?”

“Arthur Pendragon is haunting you both because he was the man in the alley, the man you tried to save, Killian.”

Killian blew out a long breath.  “Clearly my attempts were fruitless.”

Merlin shook his head.  “No, you weren’t able to save his life, but he’s here for a reason.  Maybe you can help him now, help him move on, help him find peace.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m at his disposal,” Killian said, “but why the bloody hell does he keep repeating ‘it was me’?”

Merlin turned toward the nightstand and listened for another moment, and then he turned back to the bed, smiling.

“It would seem Arthur Pendragon is the solution to the mystery you face,” Merlin said. “It was Arthur’s body the authorities found in the alley.  Your phone, Killian, was found beside him.  Given the fact that he was beaten until he was unrecognizable, and given the fact that he bore a rather uncanny resemblance to you in life, it was believed he was you.  It was his body that was shipped back to England.”

Emma whistled.  “That’s quite the mistake.”

“Indeed,” Merlin agreed.

“So, how can we help him?” Killian asked.  “How can we move him toward the light?”

“Arthur wishes his body to be returned back home,” Merlin said, “and he wishes a message be conveyed to his widow, Guinevere.”

“I can manage that,” Killian said.  “What precisely is the message?”

“Arthur wishes to tell Gwen, as he calls her, that he’s sorry,” Merlin said.  “He knows his obsession wounded his wife deeply, and he wishes more than anything that he’d been a better husband to her.  He wants to thank her for her constant love and faithfulness, even when he was not worthy of it, but now she should follow her heart with his blessing.  Lance du Lac is a good man, and Arthur hopes they are happy together.”

“I promise you, Arthur,” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand, “I’ll find your wife, and I’ll pass on your message.”

Killian felt a whoosh of coldness pass him, and then it was gone.  Suddenly the room felt warmer, lighter.  

Emptier.

“He’s moved on,” Merlin said.  “Thanks to the both of you, a man who was very troubled--both in life and in death--was able to find peace.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

3 days later

Emma knocked softly on the doorframe, and then stepped inside Killian’s hospital room.  He looked up from his seat in the plush chair in the corner, and his entire face lit up at the sight of her.

It made the butterflies dance in her stomach.  He was gorgeous when he smiled like that, and she had to admit, the dark-wash jeans, blue button-up and black leather jacket didn’t hurt either.  Lying in the bed in a hospital gown he was easy on the eyes, but up and dressed--woah!

His delighted grin turned knowing, and Emma felt her face flame.  She was quite sure she hadn’t been this ridiculously attracted to someone since...well, she wasn’t sure it’d ever been like this.

“Looks like someone’s eager to get out of the hospital,” Emma said.

“Aye,” Killian agreed with a nod.  “I believe I’ve spent more than enough time in this small room.  I’m eager to make the most of my last day in the States.”

After waking from the coma and learning the truth of what happened to him, Killian had made an immediate call to his brother, Liam, paying no mind to the time difference that made it the middle of the night in England.

“Brother?” Killian said as soon as the call connected.  “Are you sitting down?”

Emma had gotten up to leave then, not wanting to intrude on a private family moment, but Killian stopped her, squeezing her hand and begging her with his expressive eyes to stay.

Liam had offered to jump on the next plane to the States, but Killian had refused.  “It’s been six months, Liam,” he’d said.  “If my calculations are correct, my small niece or nephew is to be born any day.  Elsa needs you now more than I do.”

Killian listened for a moment before grinning at Emma and rolling his eyes.  “Stop fussing, Liam,” he murmured affectionately.  “I’m not a lad anymore.  I can manage alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Emma said with conviction.  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And she had.  She’d spent every free moment here with him at the hospital over the ensuing three days until the doctor had agreed to release him.  Emma had long since stopped wondering about the connection she felt to Killian, had stopped fighting against the pull she felt toward him.  Whatever odd twist of fate had brought the two of them together, together they were, and  Emma found she had no desire to fight against the warmth and happiness being with him brought.

But now, well now, it was all about to come to an end.  Killian’s flight was first thing in the morning, and afterward, there would be an entire ocean between them.

Emma’s heart plummeted.  There were far too many obstacles for a “relationship”--or whatever you’d call what they had--that had lasted all of a week. She didn’t even know if he felt the same way about her that she did about him.  In less than twenty-four hours, she’d have to say goodbye to the man who had somehow managed to burrow his way into her heart, and for all she knew that goodbye would be permanent.

“The doctor should be here any minute for a last check, and then you’re out of here,” Emma said, forcing the dismal thoughts from her mind.  Killian being released from the hospital was a good thing.  She wasn’t going to ruin the moment by being glum.

“I must admit, I’ll be pleased to be rid of this place,” Killian said with a wry grin.  “How the devil is one expected to convalesce and get his rest when the nurses come to poke and prod every five minutes?”

Emma laughed.  “Quit complaining,” she said. “You know you had all the nurses eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They seem to have adopted me as their pet over the past few months, haven’t they? Even if the brigands who attacked me rather knocked the handsome out of me.”

Emma grinned.  “No one’s that powerful.”

He enjoyed her flirting, if his pleased grin was any indication.  After a moment, he sobered.  “I want to thank you, Swan, for saving me, pulling me from the coma.”

She smiled gently.  “Did you really think I’d let you waste away in here if I could help it?”

“I’d hardly blame you if you did,” he answered.  “After all, we were strangers.  Not one person in a hundred who received a phone call from a dead man would put in half the effort you did to track it down.”

Emma shrugged.  “It was weird.  I had the strangest feeling of connection to you, even though as far as I knew at the time, I’d never even seen you before.  No way I could have just let you languish here.”

The doctor came in at that moment, and their conversation was put on hold as he did his final examination before declaring Killian fit to go about his normal life.

“So, I went ahead and booked you a room at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” Emma said when they were once again at home.  “Granny put you in the same room you’d been in during your vacation, before, you know, everything happened.”

“I greatly appreciate it, love.”

“I guess, um,” she said, “we should go.  I’ll drop you off and let you enjoy your last day in Storybrooke however you’d like.”

Emma turned to leave the room, but Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm.  “Do you know how I’d most like to spend my last day in the States?”

She shook her head.

“I’d like to spend it with you,” he said with a gentle smile.  “Would you allow me to buy you lunch?”

Her heart pounded.  “Are you...are you asking me out?”

He nodded, taking her hand and lacing their fingers.  “If you’re amenable, aye, I’m absolutely asking you out.  What do you say?”

Emma stepped into his space, cupped the back of his head with her free hand, and brought his lips down to hers.  If he was surprised at the kiss, he didn’t show it, responding as soon as her lips touched his.

And gods did he know how to kiss.  Emma was more than tempted to scrap their lunch date and simply stay here making out all day.  Food was overrated compared to this.

“Alright, Mr. Jones, you’re good to--oh, I’m sorry!  Let me just leave this with you--” 

Emma pulled away, grinning as the embarrassed nurse laid a handful of forms on the bedside table and then scurried out the door.

“That was a yes, by the way,” Emma said when they were again alone.  “How about we go get that lunch you promised me before we scandalize any more nurses?”

 Notes:

--Well there you have it!  Mystery solved and happy endings all around.

--All that’s left is a fluffy epilogue in which a few surprise guests show up at an important event in Emma and Killian’s lives.

                                                                                 Next Chapter-->

[jeonjk0504]

why didn’t you say anything about the racism bts have faced these past days :(

Hey anon!

I actually haven‘t been online here because of the racism debate. I was on twitter and was supporting it there on two accounts nonstop! if you want to follow me, my @ is also jeonjk0504 :)

You are completely right though, i should have spoken up on my platform here sooner, to educate my followers on this really important matter!

If i make mistakes or should word things differently, please let me know, as you can tell i‘m not native.

The short version:

Credits to @ squishykosmos (twt)!

What happened?

3 days ago, the german radio host Matthias Mattuschik from the station Bayern3 spew racist remarks about BTS because of their MTV Unplugged cover of coldplay. He is a fanboy of coldplay and only wanted to introduce their song ‚Fix you‘ but somehow it was necessary to explain to his listeners why it was an utter insult that BTS had an MTV unplugged concert (he called it paradox, because it‘s a boyband) where they were allowed to cover his favorite song. Coldplay allowed the cover by the way and even commented on it positively.

Here are two links from his original rant, translated in english:

https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365211269133971458?s=21 (Part 1)

https://twitter.com/atinystrawbery/status/1365052883771785219?s=21 (Part 2)

As a german i know that to other people our language sounds quite agressive in general, but this is a whole different level. This isn‘t said in a jokingly way, it‘s pure hatred.

He called BTS a virus against which hopefully there will be a vaccine soon, that their cover of coldplay is blasphemy and that they are little pisser who should get a 20-year vacation in North Korea. Considering the rising violence against Asians all over the world because of Covid, his speech is extremely harmful and normalizes hate against Asians apart from the fact that it was racism in it’s purest form. Why the wish for a South Korean Group to have vacation in the North Korean dictatorship is inhumane and racist, i hopefully don‘t have to explain further. He even said, he can‘t be xenophobic, because he drives a korean brand car (which turned out to be japanese). The new ‚i can‘t be racist, i have a black friend‘.

This also hasn‘t been the first time, in 2018 he made an antisemetic comparison between smoker and jews for which he got a little attention, but no consequences.

Furthermore ARMY dug up a picture on his instagram from 2020 with the caption ‚ Is more evidence needed?!?,‘

A short note:

What makes this even more infuriating is that the radio station is regulated by public-law and german citizens are OBLIGATED to pay for it. We literally are forced to pay money to a radio station that broadcasts openly racist slurs! And no, it‘s not allowed. They have policies that explicitly say they are not allowed to discriminate, they have to support diversity and have to be politically and economically independant.

Do they give a fuck? Apparently not really.

Did Bayern3 answer the hashtags and the pressure?

They did, first came a short nonpology where they said that the show, which Matthias Matuschik is broadcasting, is known for his direct and honest opinions and that he could have worded it better. They are sorry if anyone felt insulted, which is excusing the feeling of the fans, but not the act in itself.

After Army answered with the hashtag ‚Racism is not an opinion‘ and various media coverage surfaced, they posted a second ‚apology‘, where they -again- said that they are distancing themselves from what was said and Matthias has always been an avid supporter of refugees so he is very far away from being a racist. (Supporting refugees doesn’t excuse you from saying racist things though.) Matthias stated that he is shocked from the reactions, that he is ‚sorry if people felt what he said was racist‘ and that his family is getting death threats. (which is in no way acceptable of course.) They would review what was said so it doesn‘t happen again.

Here you can read the statements in german and translated in english:

First statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365087239756259330?s=21

Second statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365305564050382849?s=21

This would have probably been the beginning of a conversation, if Matthias wouldn‘t have went to facebook after his second apology to like a supporting post that basically stated that the topic is way overhyped and in the 80s you were allowed to say your opinion without people getting butthurt (this is a short form.) He completely revised his remorse literally the same day after the updated apology and supported a statement that was gaslighting the people who critized him. You can read the facebook post here:

https://twitter.com/traveltomyrm/status/1365321397342461957?s=21

Since then: Nothing. My mom told me yesterday they‘re playing dynamite a lot, i told her to switch the channel.

News Coverage

Thankfully, we got a lot of support from I-ARMY and K-ARMY, otherwise we wouldn‘t have been able to trend the hashtags day and night and kept them in the top categories in germany and worldwide. We also got a lot of support from international media who called out the racism and put them into context in really amazing articles. (Also K-Media and J-Media but i only have screenshots, no links) Here are a few of them:

https://rollingstoneindia.com/xenophobic-german-presenters-comments-about-bts-are-just-the-tip-of-the-racist-iceberg/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bryanrolli/2021/02/26/bts-were-once-again-the-subject-of-racist-on-air-remarks-and-received-a-pathetic-non-apology/

We even got celebrities like halsey, max, lauv, steve aoki, JJ Ryan, DJ Swivel, Liam McEwan, Zara Larsson, MTV UK, Columbia Records and some more bring attention to the issue and show their support for BTS in the face of racism.

This support was probably the reason why we even got a second ‚apology‘, because guess what? German media ain‘t having it. Since the beginning of our protest, i think i saw 2 articles in total which actually called it racism, various newspapers and online magazines were downplaying it by talking about ‚insults‘ and concentrating on Matthias calling BTS pisser instead of quoting the actual racist remarks he made. We got no TV news whatsoever. So naturally, german locals looking at this protest think that Fans are going on a rampage because their favorite boygroup got insulted.

It has been maddening. The radio station and host have been trying to sit this whole thing out for days, in hope we lose energy over the weekend and it‘s draining to not be heard or taken seriously. For me it‘s still a priviledged perspective, because i don‘t have to bear consequences when this thing is over, one way or another. But for Asians in our country, also some of my friends, this horror in times of covid will continue. The lack of serious German Media coverage has been frustrating and embarrasing to say the least, but also shown again, that the topic gets overshadowed by prejudices against KPop, the fanbase and Asians as part of satirical fun (which it isn‘t).

Why is that?

This is my personal take and not a deep analysis, just my personal observations: Germany might be progressive in a lot of aspects, but they still have deeply ingrained every day racism against asians and they have a huge problem realizing and admitting to that. We don‘t have a lot of asian representation and there is a huge alieniation from asians for a lot of german 50+ (also less, but those are the ones in power mostly). Racism against Asians is not seen enough and people don‘t empathize, partly because they‘re white privileged people who don‘t have to live with certain stigma, partly because they simply don‘t care to educate themselves about minorities in their own country. This ignorance is widespread, if it doesn‘t happen in front of your doorstep, it‘s probably nonexistant. It‘s also not only reserved for Asians, january 2021 we had a talkshow where 5 white german people talked happily about what minorities such as Romani people think as insulting or racist. They did get a lot of backleash because obviously they talk about matters, without letting minorities be part of the discussion, but real consequences? Nope.

I doubt that this protest will get Matthias Matuschik fired (which it should if you are openly racist on a public platform), because the pressure is too low and the radio station has shown with their first statement that they thought it‘s rather funny than problematic. But i don’t know what‘s going to happen. Apart from being an ARMY, i am an adult who condemns racism in any way or form. Why german media chooses to overlook the essence of the debate and makes it a hystercial fanbase issue is beyond me.

If you want to have a look yourself, you can follow German Fanbase accounts, such as @ BTS_UPDATES_GER for updates in german and english.

And at last, here is a thread on how german media reproduces Anti Asian Racism : https://twitter.com/storiesbythuy/status/1366073706817196046?s=21

German Armys are trying to come up with a plan to gain more attention for the topic at the moment, so we‘ll see how things turn out! Please support us if possible!

[bebepac]

Seeing Double

This is chapter 7 of Just the Way You Are.  To catch up on what you’ve missed please click:  Just the Way You Are Masterlist

Original Post date: 2/24/2021

The Book:  Prerfect Match x TRR

Pairing:  Hayden and Kai /  TRR MC is single-ish

Word Count: 3192

Warnings:  Profanity

Summary: More of Hayden and Liam’s friendship is revealed.  Liam and Riley have breakfast together for the first time... alone.  The squad goes out to dinner.  

Taylor, Sal, Jaiden, and Nico are my own characters.  All others belong to Pixelberry.  

A/N: Working on giving my masterlist a face lift, here’s one of fruits of my labor.  I hope you like it.    I really don’t have a song for this one, so i’m not even going to bother picking one.  

A/2:  In this AU Jaiden is not the older brother, he is the younger brother.  Jason and Ren Brooks after failing to conceive adopted twin girls and seven years later.  Jaiden arrived!

“You have an identical twin sister?”  

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you mention that?”  

“She’s my sister, and we share the same face.  That's it. Do you mention your sibling that doesn’t?”  

“No.. but…”

“People get so drawn into the fact that we look alike, that they don’t realize that we’re still  completely different people with different personalities.  Yes we share a face… but that’s where the similarities end. People really start asking ten thousand questions when you say, you have an identical twin."

Riley laughed in her direction.

"Being that she's giving you the finger right now, looks like the two of you really hit it off. Come on let's smooth this over. I promise her bark is worse than her bite."

Riley grabbed his hand pulling him over to meet her sister. All Liam could think is that Riley was holding his hand.

Taylor immediately rolled her eyes.

"C’mon Tay be nice.”

“Why? He has corny jokes Riley. My God!!! They’re horrible.”

“You’re just a comedy snob because Max is a comedian.”  

She smirked at Riley. Riley smirked back identically.

“Liam is a nice guy Taylor, if you give him a chance. I gave Maxwell a chance.”  

“I’m engaged to Maxwell. Are you trying to get engaged to him Riley?”

Liam let out a surprised cough.

“In case you don’t speak in cough, that means no Ri.”

“That means, we just started hanging out and you’re trying to throw us down the aisle Taylor, overbearing much?”    

Riley raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms over her arms over her chest.  Riley tapped her foot impatiently.  

“Finnnnneeeeeee!!!!  You win.  Okay, You win.  Don’t do that thing like Mom does it drives me crazy."

Taylor took a sip of her coffee like she was taking a shot and then smiled sweetly at Liam.

"Hi Liam, I'm Taylor, Riley's sister. Nice to meet you."

Liam was impressed.

"That's all I ask. Thank you Taylor."

She saluted Riley. "Okay Mom."

"Come on Liam." She grabbed his hand again pulling him away from her.

They went to sit at a table away from Taylor. Liam was  relieved. Though he thought Riley had the situation handled with her sister.

"Sorry I am late. Chance told me at the last second, he couldn't make it then I had to throw something on."

Riley smiled, so did Liam.

He glanced at Riley. If this was her just throwing clothes on, his heart ached to see what she looked like when really tried to look nice.

Riley looked amazing. Her hair and makeup were done. She was wearing a blue retro dress with pink flamingos on it, and her signature pink flip flops.  Riley looked beautiful.

"Well if you rushed, Riley, I can't tell. I think you look beautiful."

Riley smiled biting her lip and her cheeks turned pink. She glanced down at the menu.

Riley was blushing!

"You make sure you let Chance know, I'm sad I couldn't hang out with him today. But I'm glad you're here Riley."

They ordered their food. Another Greek omelet for Riley. Liam ordered a different breakfast sampler.

When the food came he noticed as he ate Riley kept glancing at his plate.  

“Want to try some?”  Liam asked.  

“No.. I’m fine.”  Riley said hesitantly.  They continued talking.  It almost felt like a date to Liam.  

When he glanced up, Riley was eyeing his plate again.

“Riley, you're giving my food the look of lust.”  He slid his plate over to Riley.  

“Well if you insist.”   She said, taking a forkful of  eggs, chopped potatoes, cheese, and sausage breakfast casserole.

“That is soooo good.”

“Maybe you should get it the next time you have breakfast here….with me…”  

“I’d like that.”  Riley’s cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.  “Us to have breakfast again, and the breakfast casserole is a good idea too.”

“Alright.”  Liam’s smile brightened even more.  

Taylor watched her sister.  She hadn’t seen someone make Riley smile like that in a long time.   Maybe she was finally trying to let someone in.   Taylor was going to give this Liam guy a chance, if he could make her smile like that.  She hadn’t seen her smile that much since Nico.  

“See you at work sis.  See you around Liam.”  

“It’s been interesting meeting you Taylor.”  

Taylor smiled.  “You know what,  I like him a little more now.  He’s honest.”  

Hayden poured a cup of coffee.  Hayden didn’t dislike anything.  But he found that there were some flavorings he added to his coffee he enjoyed more than others.  

“Hey Hayden!”

“What’s up Liam?”

“Nothing much, how are you?”

“I’m really good.”  

Liam put his lunch bag in the fridge.

“I just want to thank you.”  

“For what?”  Hayden asked.

“For setting me up with Riley.  It might not go anywhere, but I feel like I have a chance.  We might have a chance. And I really like being around her.”  

“I thought you two would be a good match for each other.  You two have the same look in your eyes.  The one you try to hide.”  

“And what look is that Hayden?”  

“Pain.  I think the two of you could help each other heal.”  

“You can see that in the both of us?”  

“You don’t have to tell me about what happened to you Liam.  Or you can, when you feel like you’re ready to.  Just know you have a friend if you ever need to talk.”

Liam was humbled by Hayden's words. Regardless of what Hayden was or wasn't,  Liam knew one thing. Hayden is a true friend. No one could convince him otherwise.

"Thank you Hayden."

Liam had heard horror stories about the matches.  Especially the one that tried to kill the president.  People that knew what Hayden was, stayed away from him in the office.  Others were intrigued.  All still kept their distance.

Hayden was alone at work a lot, until Liam decided to sit with him one day at lunch.

“Mind if I sit with you?”  Liam asked that day.

“Sure, I guess my days of hoarding seats are now over.”

Both Hayden and Liam laughed.

Liam liked Hayden immediately.  They talked about everything. Hayden finally asked the question that was on his mind.

“Why did you sit with me?”  

“You looked like you needed a friend.  I need one too.”  

“Jai, do you have your wallet?”  

“Riley you’re worse than Mom.”  

“Well if you want to have a drink, they’re going to card you.  No one will believe my baby faced brother is twenty one without seeing your license.”

She pinched Jaiden's cheek.

"God you are Mom!!!!"

"And don’t be afraid to talk, Jai.  You cared about him too.”  

“Okay Riley.”  

When they arrived at The Ruby Apple, they were the first to arrive.

“Sal, can we get our usual booth?”  

“Sure sweetheart, it only seems like yesterday was the last time all you all were here together.”

Riley slid into the booth  glancing at all the pictures on the wall.  The Ruby Apple had been one of Nico’s favorite places, and their group of friends were regulars there.  They had their own booth.  And there it was, a picture of the group together celebrating Nico’s birthday, the last one he had with the group.   Nico had put on two birthday hats on his chest, and looked like Madonna when she wore that  cone bra in her music video.

  He was sticking his chest into Riley’s face, and everyone was laughing.  Everyone filed in, that was in town.  Drake, Max, Taylor, Liv, Bert, Savannah, and Kai.

“Where’s Hayden?”  

“He decided he would stay in tonight.”  

"He knew he was welcome right?"

"Oh of course Ri, he knew."

“Sal, can we…..”

“Loaded nachos for the table and your first round?”  

“Yes.”  

“Let me see Super Boy’s id.”  

Taylor laughed.  “That’s funny.”  

Jaiden handed over his driver’s license.  

“I’ll have my waitress bring your stuff over."

A few minutes later a young woman walked over to the table.  Jaiden sat up straight.

Riley raised an eyebrow.  

“Mia!!”  Kai screeched.  “What are you doing here?”

“Working, I pull some shifts here when we’re not on the food truck to make a little extra money.”

Jaiden kept staring at her.  She smiled at him.   She passed out the shots.  It was Nico’s favorite.  Baby Guinness.

“It looks like I have one extra.  I’m sorry, I’ll take it back.”  

“No leave it.  There was supposed to be one more.”  Riley said with a sad look in her eyes.  

Mia left the shot.  “I’ll be back in a few with your loaded nachos for the table.”

“Let’s do this.”  Drake commented. “Everyone hold your glasses up.  Only for you would I drink this weak ass shot for, because you know I’m a whiskey man.  And because of that, I know you are smiling down on all of us.  We fuckin’ miss you, and love you Nico KH. Cheers.”

Everyone clinked glasses and  downed their drinks.

“That’s not weak!”  Jaiden coughed.  

“Says the twenty-one year old that’s had more cough syrup in his life, than actual liquor.”

“Taylor God! He’s your brother, why do you have to be so ruthless?”  Bert laughed.

“You act like you just met me.  You  know this about me. My sensor is perpetually broken.”

She slid by Jaiden.  “I’ll be right back.”

Sal stopped her.

"Riley, I'm so sorry about the number of shots, I wasn't thinking."

"It's alright Sal."

Riley went into the bathroom to compose herself a little bit.  She wiped her eyes and touched up her makeup.  She felt it a victory she hadn't cried today. She sighed walking out of the bathroom when she saw him.

Liam was sitting in a booth alone, reading a book. Not a kindle, an actual book.  Riley smiled. She didn't know why she found it so endearing that he was reading an actual book, and chuckling to himself.

"Liam?"

He looked up at her.

"Hey!"

"What are you reading?"

"It's called The Greek Meet. It's absolutely hilarious."

"Isn't that a movie?"

"It is, but oftentimes the books are always better than the movie versions. The author was consulted on this one, it's pretty close to the book."

"Good deal! Are you alone Liam?"

"Yeah, but I'm fine Riley." He smiled at her.

"Liam…."

"I'm used to it." He reassured her.

His words stung Riley's heart.

"What happened to you Liam?"

"I was sick a lot as a kid.  I spent a lot of time alone in a hospital room."

"Come sit with us Liam."

He shook his head no.

"It's okay Riley. I'm fine really."

"Please?"

He glanced up at her.

"If you insist."

Liam followed Riley over to the big booth full of people.

"Who's this clown?"  Drake asked.

"Drake don't be a Taylor."

Everyone at the table laughed at Jaiden's comment.

"I resent that. And from all people, my little brother. Really Jai?"

"It's what we do. Broken sensors and sarcasm is a love language we're sure."

Drake and Taylor  high fived each other.

Riley introduced Liam to the table as her friend.  He sat next to Riley and across from Kai.

Mia showed up with another round of drinks.

"This one is on Sal! Hey about time you showed up! You missed the first round.  Just in time for the second."

"Excuse me?" Liam looked confused.

Mia passed out the shots.

"You said there was supposed to be one more. This is him right?"

Oh God. Liam thought as he looked at Riley. They were here for Nico.

Riley stammered.  No one knew what to say.

Riley's face fell.

"Yeah! I'm always late. You know me." Liam said with a smile at Riley.

"Great! I'll be back with your Nachos."

Drake gave Liam a nod of approval.  He had earned respect at the table.

"Come on then let's do this before the damn alcohol evaporates. You too Liam."

Everyone held up their drinks.

“You know we got more people in this booth this year without your big ass head in the way?  We still miss you though. Happy birthday in heaven.”  

Everyone drank their shots.

“Softie, your emotions… “  Maxwell nudged Taylor.

“I am NOT SOFT!!!”  You know this about me Max."

“So how was it?”

“Not terrible. Actually, I liked it.”  

Mia came back with the huge plates of Nachos.

“Yasssssssssssss!!!” Maxwell screamed.

Riley looked at Liam.  “Thanks.” she whispered to him.  

He winked at her.  “No problem.”  

Mia refilled the waters on the table.  

“Can I get a coke?”  Jaiden blushed at Mia.

“Sure sweetie, I got ya.”  

“Somebody’s got a crush on the cute waitress.”  

“She’s nineteen.”  

“How do you know that Kai?”  Riley asked.

“She runs my favorite food truck with her dad.  You saw the cute shirts.  Pops on the Go.  That’s Pop’s daughter Mia.”  

“She’s even made her uniform a little spunky.  She stands out from all the other waitresses.

“And not to mention her pink chuck taylors.”  

“Her what?”  Jaiden asked.

“Jaiden her shoes.”  

“They’re converse.”  

“You’re so young. But you know what we’re going to help you.  We’re feeling inspired.  I feel like Nico would help you out. Nico KH was a great wingman. We’re going to be your wing people tonight.”  

“Kai you’re up.”   Drake said.

“Here’s your coke.”   . “Thank you.”  Jaiden’s cheeks were bright red.

“Hey Mia?”  

“Yeah Kai?”

“Between Pops and here, how in the world do you have time for a social life?”

Mia laughed.  “What social life?  The most social I am right now, has media behind it, or talking to my customers.”  

“You mean to tell me as adorable as you are, you’re not seeing anyone currently?”  

“No, not right now.”  

Kai glanced at Jaiden and winked.  

“Can I get you guy’s dinner orders going?”

She paused.  Jaiden was just staring at her in awe saying nothing.  

Riley hit him.  “Jai, she wants your food order!!!”

“OH!!! Can you come back to me, I’m not sure yet.”  

Taylor made the sound of someone crashing and burning.

“You’re going to hell Taylor.” Drake said.

“With the way you drink whiskey, Drake, you're gonna be there first. You can save me a seat in the lake of fire.”  

By the time it was Jaiden’s turn to order he still looked indecisive.

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu?”

“My favorite is the tofu burger with carrot fries.”  

Drake made vomit sounds.

“Seriously?”  Jaiden asked.  Yeah he wasn’t going to attempt that one for a girl.

“Um no.  Get the Monster bacon burger with loaded fries.”  

“That sounds really good.”  

They enjoyed their dinner.

Mia passed out all the checks.

Riley grabbed Jaiden’s.  

“I owe you dinner.”  

She took his.  She smiled when she opened it.  

“You might want this though.”  

On a little separate piece of paper was Mia’s phone number.  

Jaiden smiled when he looked at the digits written on the piece of paper.  

He picked up his phone.

Drake snatched the paper away.

“Don’t you text her yet!!!!!!”

“Don’t play games with her.”  Savannah  said.  All the women at the table nodded.

“He’s not supposed to text right away. Makes him look over eager.”  

“Um he is eager.  Let’s be real.”  

“Are you staying with me tonight Jai?”

“Do you mind?”  

“Nope, you’re a little wobbly, you’re coming home with me.”

“If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.  You too Riley.”  

“I can walk you guys back if you want.”  

“Thank you Liam that would be great.”

Liam waited for Riley and Jaiden outside.  

Drake approached him.

“You know that was really nice what you did for her earlier in there.  None of us knew what to say without hurting her.”  

“Not a big deal,  I was only trying to help make an awkward situation… less awkward you know?”

“Riley is like a sister to me.  She’s been through a lot.  If you break her heart, I will break your face. Am I clear?”  

Liam swallowed thickly.  “Crystal.”  

Drake slapped Liam on the back when Riley came up.

"Nice seeing you Liam. Remember what I said!"

Liam, Riley, and Jaiden started walking to Riley's apartment in silence.

"My feet hurt." Riley grumbled.

"C'mon Ri."

Jaiden crouched in front of her.

She hopped onto his back.  After a few blocks Jaiden’s pace really slowed.

Jaiden grumbled. "I'm not going to make it."

He put Riley down on a park bench.

"My feet still hurt.”

"Do you trust me?" Liam inquired.

"Within reason, why?"

"This is why."

Liam effortlessly picked Riley up carrying her over the threshold.

Riley wrapped her arms around Liam's neck.

"I feel like a princess." Riley giggled still a little tipsy.

"No Riley, you're a Queen."

"Queen Riley. That's pretty nice."

Riley rested her head on Liam's chest, hearing his heart beat steady in his chest. It lulled Riley right to sleep.

Liam tried to pass some knowledge on to Riley’s younger brother.

"You know Jaiden, I agree with the ladies about Mia. If you want to get to know her better, text her. Don't wait. She seems like a really sweet girl."

"Is Riley snoring?"

Liam glanced down at Riley again. Her head was nestled right next to his heart.

"She's out like a light."

"You like my sister don't you?"

"What's not to like? She's amazing!"

"Riley is not going to forget him, Liam."

"I'm not asking her to. I'm just hoping she will open her heart to me."

"It's the same thing."

"It isn't. I know I can't replace him. There is a part of her heart that will always be his because of the way she lost him. I'm not asking her for that. I don't want that part of her. What I do want is the chance to make her happy, her to give me a chance to. And we could find a happy place together, her and I ."

He glanced at Riley. She snorted, waking herself up. Jaiden was laughing, Liam was trying hard not to. He just thought she was so damn cute.

"Was I snoring?"

"No, not at all Riley, you just breathe heavy."

"Where's your key? We're at your place."

Liam put Riley down at her door. Riley fished in her purse for her keys.

“Want to say hi to your buddy?”  Riley asked.  

Hell ya I do!”

Chance ran up to Liam once they got inside the apartment.

“He really likes you a lot.”  

“Yeah no one else matters when Liam is around.  Don’t forget who feeds you every day twice a day Chance.”  

“I think it’s forgotten.”  Liam chuckled.  

Liam saw Jaiden get excited as he looked at his phone.

"Mia just texted me back!"

"I'm so glad you didn't listen to Drake."

"Yeah I listened to Liam."

"What about your sisters or all the other women at the table."

"I am the great and powerful Li. Wise beyond his years. " he said with a wink.

Riley rolled her eyes.

The next morning Riley woke up with a headache.  

“Ri! Where’s your sugar?”  Jaiden called through the door.  

“In the sugar bowl on the table.”

Riley groaned grabbing her head.

“Ugh.. Baby Guinness, you are not my friend.”  

Riley settled back into bed and closed her eyes.  She heard a soft mumble and the bed settled next to her.  

Riley opened her eyes.  She rolled over finding Liam sleeping in the bed next to her shirtless.  

What the Fuck.

@dcbbw​​    @queenjilian​​       @jessiembruno​​       @bbrandy2002​​       @khoicesbyk​​      @janezillow​​     @sillypapermango​​      @gkittylove99​​ @gabesmommie1130​​      @mom2000aggie​​      @lovablegranny​​      @jared2612​​

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[hlupdate]

A bathroom figures significantly in the origin stories of at least two classic One Direction songs. The first will be familiar to any fan: Songwriter and producer Savan Kotecha was sitting on the toilet in a London hotel room, when he heard his wife say, “I feel so ugly today.” The words that popped into his head would shape the chorus of One Direction’s unforgettable 2011 debut, “What Makes You Beautiful.”

The second takes place a few years later: Another hotel room in England — this one in Manchester — where songwriters and producers Julian Bunetta and John Ryan were throwing back Cucumber Collins cocktails and tinkering with a beat. Liam Payne was there, too. At one point, Payne got up to use the bathroom, and when he re-emerged, he was singing a melody. They taped it immediately. Most of it was mumbled — a temporary placeholder — but there was one phrase: “Better than words …” A few hours later, on the bus to another city, another show — Bunetta and Ryan can’t remember where — Payne asked, maybe having a laugh, “What if the rest of the song was just lyrics from other songs?”

“Songs in general, you’re just sort of waiting for an idea to bonk you on the head,” Ryan says from a Los Angeles studio, with Bunetta. “And if you’re sort of winking at it, laughing at it — we were probably joking, ‘What if [the next line was] “More than a feeling”? Well, that would actually be tight!’”

“Better Than Words,” closed One Direction’s third album, Midnight Memories. It was never a single, but became a fan-favorite live-show staple. It’s a midtempo headbanger that captures the essence of what One Direction is, and always was: One of the great rock & roll bands of the 21st century.

July 23rd marks One Direction’s 10th anniversary, the day Simon Cowell told Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, and Louis Tomlinson that they would progress on The X Factor as a group. Between that date and their last live performance (so far, one can hope) on December 31st, 2015, they released five albums, toured the world four times — twice playing stadiums — and left a trove of Top 10 hits for a devoted global fan base that came to life at the moment social media was redefining the contours of fandom. 

It’d been a decade since the heyday of ‘NSync and Backstreet Boys, and the churn of generations demanded a new boy band. One Direction’s songs were great and their charisma and chemistry undeniable, but what made them stick was a sound unlike anything else in pop — rooted in guitar rock at a time when that couldn’t have been more passé.

Kotecha, who met 1D on The X Factor and shepherded them through their first few years, is a devoted student of the history of boy bands. He first witnessed their power back in the Eighties, when New Kids on the Block helped his older sister through her teens. The common thread linking all great boy bands, from New Kids to BSB, he says, is, “When they’d break, they’d come out of nowhere, sounding like nothing that’s on the radio.”

In 2010, Kotecha remembers, “everybody was doing this sort of Rihanna dance pop.” But that just wasn’t a sound One Direction could pull off (the Wanted did it only once); and famously, they didn’t even dance. Instead, the reference points for 1D went all the way back to the source of contemporary boy bands.

“Me and Simon would talk about how [One Direction] was Beatlesque, Monkees-esque,” Kotecha continues. “They had such big personalities. I felt like a kid again when I was around them. And I felt like the only music you could really do that with is fun, poppy guitar songs. It would come out of left field and become something owned by the fans.”

To craft that sound on 1D’s first two albums, Up All Night and Take Me Home, Kotecha worked mostly with Swedish songwriters-producers Carl Falk and Rami Yacoub. They’d all studied at the Max Martin/Cheiron Studios school of pop craftsmanship, and Falk says they were confident they could crack the boy-band code once more with songs that recalled BSB and ‘NSync, but replaced the dated synths and pianos with guitars. 

The greatest thing popular music can do is make someone else think, “I can do that,” and One Direction’s music was designed with that intent. “The guitar riff had to be so simple that my friend’s 15-year-old daughter could play it and put a cover to YouTube,” Falk says. “If you listen to ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ or ‘One Thing,’ they have two-finger guitar riffs that everyone who can play a bit of guitar can learn. That was all on purpose.”

One Direction famously finished third on The X Factor, but Cowell immediately signed them to his label, Syco Music. They’d gone through one round of artist development boot camp on the show, and another followed on an X Factor live tour in spring 2011. They’d developed an onstage confidence, but the studio presented a new challenge. “We had to create who should do what in One Direction,” Falk says. To solve the puzzle the band’s five voices presented, they chose the kitchen sink method and everyone tried everything.

“They were searching for themselves,” Falk adds. “It was like, Harry, let’s just record him; he’s not afraid of anything. Liam’s the perfect song starter, and then you put Zayn on top with this high falsetto. Louis found his voice when we did ‘Change Your Mind.’ It was a long trial for everyone to find their strengths and weaknesses, but that was also the fun part.” Falk also gave Niall some of his first real guitar lessons; there’s video of them performing “One Thing” together, still blessedly up on YouTube.

“What Makes You Beautiful” was released September 11th, 2011 in the U.K. and debuted at Number One on the singles chart there — though the video had dropped a month prior. While One Direction’s immediate success in the U.K. and other parts of Europe wasn’t guaranteed, the home field odds were favorable. European markets have historically been kinder to boy bands than the U.S.; ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys found huge success abroad before they conquered home. To that end, neither Kotecha nor Falk were sure 1D would break in the U.S. Falk even says of conceiving the band’s sound, “We didn’t want it to sound too American, because this was not meant — for us, at least — to work in America. This was gonna work in the U.K. and maybe outside the U.K.”

Stoking anticipation for “What Makes You Beautiful” by releasing the video on YouTube before the single dropped, preceded the strategy Columbia Records (the band’s U.S. label) adopted for Up All Night. Between its November 2011 arrival in the U.K. and its U.S. release in March 2012, Columbia eschewed traditional radio strategies and built hype on social media. One Direction had been extremely online since their X Factor days, engaging with fans and spending their downtime making silly videos to share. One goofy tune, made with Kotecha, called “Vas Happenin’ Boys?” was an early viral hit.

“They instinctively had this — and it might just be a generational thing — they just knew how to speak to their fans,” Kotecha says. “And they did that by being themselves. That was a unique thing about these boys: When the cameras turned on, they didn’t change who they were.”

Social media was flooded with One Direction contests and petitions to bring the band to fans’ towns. Radio stations were inundated with calls to play “What Makes You Beautiful” long before it was even available. When it did finally arrive, Kotecha (who was in Sweden at the time) remembers staying up all night to watch it climb the iTunes chart with each refresh.

Take Me Home, was recorded primarily in Stockholm and London during and after their first world tour. The success of Up All Night had attracted an array of top songwriting talent — Ed Sheeran even penned two hopeless romantic sad lad tunes, “Little Things” and “Over Again” — but Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub grabbed the reins, collaborating on six of the album’s 13 tracks. In charting their course, Kotecha returned to his boy band history: “My theory was, you give them a similar sound on album two, and album three is when you start moving on.”

Still, there was the inherent pressure of the second album to contend with. The label wanted a “What Makes You Beautiful, Part 2,” and evidence that the 1D phenomenon wasn’t slowing down appeared outside the window of the Stockholm studio: so many fans, the street had to be shut down. Kotecha even remembers seeing police officers with missing person photos, combing through the girls camped outside, looking for teens to return to their parents.

At this pivotal moment, One Direction made it clear that they wanted a greater say in their artistic future. Kotecha admits he was wary at first, but the band was determined. To help manage the workload, Kotecha had brought in two young songwriters, Kristoffer Fogelmark and Albin Nedler, who’d arrived with a handful of ideas, including a chorus for a booming power ballad called “Last First Kiss.”

“We thought, while we’re busy recording vocals, whoever’s not busy can go write songs with these two guys, and then we’ll help shape them as much as we can,” Kotecha says. “And to our pleasant surprise, the songs were pretty damn good.”

At this pivotal moment, too, songwriters Julian Bunetta and John Ryan also met the band. Friends from the Berklee College of Music, Bunetta and Ryan had moved out to L.A. and cut a few tracks, but still had no hits to their name. They entered the Syco orbit after scoring work on the U.S. version of The X Factor, and were asked if they wanted to try writing a song for Take Me Home. “I was like, yeah definitely,” Bunetta says. “They sold five million albums? Hell yeah, I want to make some money.”

Working with Jamie Scott, who’d written two songs on Up All Night (“More Than This” and “Stole My Heart”), Bunetta and Ryan wrote “C’mon, C’mon” — a blinding hit of young love that rips down a dance pop speedway through a comically oversized wall of Marshall stacks. It earned them a trip to London. Bunetta admits to thinking the whole 1D thing was “a quick little fad” ahead of their first meeting with the band, but their charms were overwhelming. Everyone hit it off immediately.

“Niall showed me his ass,” Bunetta remembers of the day they recorded, “They Don’t Know About Us,” one of five songs they produced for Take Me Home (two are on the deluxe edition). “The first vocal take, he went in to sing, did a take, I was looking down at the computer screen and was like, ‘On this line, can you sing it this way?’ And I looked over and he was mooning me. I was like, ‘I love this guy!’”

Take Me Home dropped November 9th, just nine days short of Up All Night’s first anniversary. With only seven weeks left in 2012, it became the fourth best-selling album of the year globally, moving 4.4 million copies, per the IFPI; it fell short of Adele’s 21, Taylor Swift’s Red and 1D’s own Up All Night, which had several extra months to sell 4.5 million copies.

Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub’s tracks anchored the album. Songs like “Kiss You,” “Heart Attack” and “Live While We’re Young” were pristine pop rock that One Direction delivered with full delirium, vulnerability and possibility — the essence of the teen — in voices increasingly capable of navigating all the little nuances of that spectrum. And the songs 1D helped write (“Last First Kiss,” “Back for You” and “Summer Love”) remain among the LP’s best.

“You saw that they caught the bug and were really good at it,” Kotecha says of their songwriting. “And moving forward, you got the impression that that was the way for them.”

Like clockwork, the wheels began to churn for album three right after Take Me Home dropped. But unlike those first two records, carving out dedicated studio time for LP3 was going to be difficult — on February 23rd, 2013, One Direction would launch a world tour in London, the first of 123 concerts they’d play that year. They’d have to write and record on the road, and for Kotecha and Falk — both of whom had just had kids — that just wasn’t possible. 

But it was also time for a creative shift. Even Kotecha knew that from his boy band history: album three is, after all, when you start moving on. One Direction was ready, too. Kotecha credits Louis, the oldest member of the group, for “shepherding them into adulthood, away from the very pop-y stuff of the first two albums. He was leading the charge to make sure that they had a more mature sound. And at the time, being in it, it was a little difficult for me, Rami and Carl to grasp — but hindsight, that was the right thing to do.” 

“For three years, this was our schedule,” Bunetta says. “We did X Factor October, November, December. Took off January. February, flew to London. We’d gather ideas with the band, come up with sounds, hang out. Then back to L.A. for March, produce some stuff, then go out on the road with them in April. Get vocals, write a song or two, come back for May, work on the vocals, and produce the songs we wrote on the road. Back to London in June-ish. Back here for July, produce it up. Go back on tour in August, get last bits of vocals, mix in September, back to X Factor in October, album out in November, January off, start it all over again.”

That cycle began in early 2013 when Bunetta and Ryan flew to London for a session that lasted just over a week, but yielded the bulk of Midnight Memories. With songwriters Jamie Scott, Wayne Hector and Ed Drewett they wrote “Best Song Ever” and “You and I,” and, with One Direction, “Diana” and “Midnight Memories.” Bunetta and Ryan’s initial rapport with the band strengthened — they were a few years older, but as Bunetta jokes, “We act like we’re 19 all the time anyway.” Years ago, Bunetta posted an audio clip documenting the creation of “Midnight Memories” — the place-holder chorus was a full-throated, perfectly harmonized, “I love KFC!”

For the most part, Bunetta, Ryan and 1D doubled down on the rock sound their predecessors had forged, but there was one outlier from that week. A stunning bit of post-Mumford festival folk buoyed by a new kind of lyrical and vocal maturity called “Story of My Life.”

“This was a make or break moment for them,” Bunetta says. “They needed to grow up, or they were gonna go away — and they wanted to grow up. To get to the level they got to, you need more than just your fan base. That song extended far beyond their fan base and made people really pay attention.”

Production on Midnight Memories continued on the road, where, like so many bands before them, One Direction unlocked a new dimension to their music. Tour engineer Alex Oriet made it possible, Ryan says, building makeshift vocal booths in hotel rooms by flipping beds up against the walls. Writing and recording was crammed in whenever — 20 minutes before a show, or right after another two-hour performance.

“It preserved the excitement of the moment,” Bunetta says. “We were just there, doing it, marinating in it at all times. You’re capturing moments instead of trying to recreate them. A lot of times we’d write a song, sing it in the hotel, produce it, then fly back out to have them re-sing it — and so many times the demo vocals were better. They hadn’t memorized it yet. They were still in the mood. There was a performance there that you couldn’t recreate.” 

Midnight Memories arrived, per usual, in November 2013. And, per usual, it was a smash. The following year, 1D brought their songs to the environment they always deserved — stadiums around the world — and amid the biggest shows of their career, they worked on their aptly-titled fourth album Four. The 123 concerts 1D had played the year before had strengthened their combined vocal prowess in a way that opened up an array of new possibilities.

“We could use their voices on Four to make something sound more exciting and bigger, rather than having to add too many guitars, synths or drums,” Ryan says.

“They were so much more dynamic and subtle, too,” Bunetta adds. “I don’t think they could’ve pulled off a song like ‘Night Changes’ two albums prior; or the nuance to sing soft and emotionally on ‘Fireproof.’ It takes a lot of experience to deliver a restrained vocal that way.”

Musically, Four was 1D’s most expansive album yet — from the sky-high piano rock of “Steal My Girl” to the tender, tasteful groove of “Fireproof” — and it had the emotional range to match. Now in their early twenties, songs like “Where Do Broken Hearts Go,” “No Control,” “Fool’s Gold” and “Clouds” redrew the dramas and euphorias of adolescence with the new weight, wit and wanton winks of impending adulthood. One Direction wasn’t growing up normally in any sense of the word, but they were becoming songwriters capable of drawing out the most relatable elements from their extraordinary circumstances — like on “Change Your Ticket,” where the turbulent love affairs of young jet-setters are distilled to the universal pang of a long goodbye. There were real relationships inspiring these stories, but now that One Direction was four years into being the biggest band on the planet, it was natural that the relationships within the band would make it into the music as well.

“I think that on Four,” Bunetta says with a slight pause, “there were some tensions going on. A lot of the songs were double — like somebody might be singing about their girlfriend, but there was another meaning that applied to the group as well.”

He continues: “It’s tough going through that age, having to spread your wings with so many eyeballs on you, so much money and no break. It was tough for them to carve out their individual manhood, space and point of view, while learning how to communicate with each other. Even more than relationship things that were going on, that was the bigger blanket that was in there every day, seeping into the songs.”

Bunetta remembers Zayn playing him “Pillowtalk” and a few other songs for the first time through a three a.m. fog of cigarette smoke in a hotel room in Japan.

“Fucking amazing,” he says. “They were fucking awesome. I know creatively he wasn’t getting what he needed from the way that the albums were being made on the road. He wanted to lock himself in the studio and take his time, be methodical. And that just wasn’t possible.”

A month or so later, and 16 shows into One Direction’s “On the Road Again” tour, Zayn left the band. Bunetta and Ryan agree it wasn’t out of the blue: “He was frustrated and wanted to do things outside of the band,” Bunetta says. “It’s a lot for a young kid, all those shows. We’d been with them for a bunch of years at this point — it was a matter of when. You just hoped that it would wait until the last album.”

Still, Bunetta compares the loss to having a finger lopped off, and he acknowledges that Harry, Niall, Liam and Louis struggled to find their bearings as One Direction continued with their stadium tour and next album, Made in the A.M. Just as band tensions bubbled beneath the songs on Four, Zayn’s departure left an imprint on Made in the A.M. Not with any overt malice, but a song like “Drag Me Down,” Bunetta says, reflects the effort to bounce back. Even Niall pushing his voice to the limits of his range on that song wouldn’t have been necessary if Zayn and his trusty falsetto were available.

But Made in the A.M. wasn’t beholden to this shake-up. Bunetta and Ryan cite “Olivia” as a defining track, one that captures just how far One Direction had come as songwriters: They’d written it in 45 minutes, after wasting a whole day trying to write something far worse.

“When you start as a songwriter, you write a bunch of shitty songs, you get better and you keep getting better,” Ryan says. “But then you can get finicky and you’re like, ‘Maybe I have to get smart with this lyric.’ By Made in the A.M. … they were coming into their own in the sense of picking up a guitar, messing around and feeling something, rather than being like, ‘How do I put this puzzle together?’”

After Zayn’s departure, Bunetta and Ryan said it became clear that Made in the A.M. would be One Direction’s last album before some break of indeterminate length. The album boasts the palpable tug of the end, but to One Direction’s credit, that finality is balanced by a strong sense of forever. It’s literally the last sentiment they leave their fans on album-closer “History,” singing, “Baby don’t you know, baby don’t you know/We can live forever.”

In a way, Made in the A.M. is about One Direction as an entity. Not one that belonged to the group, but to everyone they spent five years making music for. Four years since their hiatus and 10 years since their formation, the fans remain One Direction’s defining legacy. Even as all five members have settled into solo careers, Ryan notes that baseless rumors of any kind of reunion — even a meager Zoom call — can still set the internet on fire. The old songs remain potent, too: Carl Falk says his nine-year-old son has taken to making TikToks to 1D tracks.

There are plenty of metrics to quantify One Direction’s reach, success and influence. The hard numbers — album sales and concert stubs — are staggering on their own, but the ineffable is always more fun. One Direction was such a good band that a fan, half-jokingly, but then kinda seriously, started a GoFundMe to buy out their contract and grant them full artistic freedom. One Direction was such a good band that songwriters like Kotecha and Falk — who would go on to make hits with Ariana Grande, the Weeknd and Nicki Minaj — still think about the songs they could’ve made with them. One Direction was such a good band that Mitski covered “Fireproof.”

But maybe it all comes down to the most ineffable thing of all: Chance. Kotecha compares success on talent shows like The X Factor to waking up one morning and being super cut — but now, to keep that figure, you have to work out at a 10, without having done the gradual work to reach that level. That’s the downfall for so many acts, but One Direction was not only able, but willing, to put in the work.

“They’re one of the only acts from those types of shows that managed to do it for such a long time,” Kotecha says. “Five years is a long time for a massive pop star to go nonstop. I know it was tiring, but they were fantastic sports about it. They appreciated and understood the opportunity they had — and, as you can see, they haven’t really stopped since. Most of them weren’t necessarily musicians before this happened, but they loved music, and they found a love of creating, writing and playing. To have these boys — that had been sort of randomly picked — to also have that? It will never be repeated.”

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.3k

Warnings: swearing

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 15 Part 17

Part 16

Liam cooked us a chicken stir-fry with Asian vegetables for dinner. I was mildly surprised that he was such a good cook and told him so. He said he had to learn pretty quickly in the early days of his career when he would go months without a paying job.

"I was lucky. My parents were supportive, so I knew I wouldn't starve, and they would give me money if I asked. I didn't want to, though. I felt like if I had to ask for money, then I was a failure. It motivated me to go to more auditions, prepare better, take some classes to get more skills, perfect my accents."

I admired him for that. From what I knew about his family, they seemed to be wealthy. It would have been easy for him to rely on them while trying to make it.

Liam had told me a lot about his family. He was very close to his two brothers. It seemed like he was a bit of a mummies boy, and I supposed that comes from being the youngest. He seemed to credit his Dad for his love of stories and his desire to act.

"Have you told them about me? Your family, I mean." I asked a bit hesitantly, unsure how I'd feel if he said no.

I shouldn't have worried though, his huge smile said it all. "I told Mum about you over a month ago."

"We hadn't even met yet."

"I know," Liam sounded a bit bashful as he continued. "My Mum kept saying how happy I sounded. I kept dropping hints that she thought I was seeing someone. She's very good at reading me. She hounded me until I told her."

"What did she say?"

"She was surprised we hadn't met. I spoke to her during the week a few times and told her we'd met, and it went well, and we'd seen each other the whole weekend. It was a bit awkward like I said. She knows me too well. She said, 'You mean you spent the weekend shagging.'"

"Oh, my God!" I was so embarrassed. "What did you say? She's going to think I'm the town bike."

"She wasn't judging, by the way. She was worried about how you would react to me. She was happy because she felt like I shouldn't have used Simons photos."

"She's not wrong," I said.

"I know, I know. Do I have to apologise again?"

"No, just don't do it again."

He briefly grinned but then looked at me, his face and tone serious. "Hopefully, I'll never have to."

I didn't know how to respond to that. What did he even mean by that? I didn't ask. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. I cleared my throat. "Is that all she said?" I asked, instead.

Liam opened his mouth and was about to say something before closing his mouth and trying again. "Well, then she saw the photos and stories about us. I tell her not to read that stuff because most of it is rubbish. But she does. Anyway, she said we looked lovely together and..." he paused before continuing. "And she can't wait to meet you in a few months. She's coming for a visit in late June early July for my two-week hiatus."

I almost asked what he was going to say, but I changed my mind. "What about your brothers? Your Dad?"

"Well, my Dad isn't much of a talker when it comes to relationships. But he did say Mum had shown him your picture and that you seemed like a nice girl. Other than that, he didn't comment. He rarely does unless he thinks someone isn't good for me."

"Is he coming with your mum?"

"Only for one week. My mum will stay for nearly three. My brothers well..." he grinned. "You know what brothers are like. We are rarely serious together. Also, we rarely call each other. We mostly keep in contact through group chats." His lip twitched as he said, 'there were a lot of ginger jokes this week."

I could only imagine what those chat logs contain. I rolled my eyes at the thought. "The bastards," I said.

Liam laughed then asked, "what about your family?"

"I haven't told them much. Dave knows a bit. I haven't told Mum anything." I shifted in my seat. "Dave knew I was seeing someone after I asked him to watch Perrin. But he didn't ask questions. Then on Friday, he found out it was you. He seemed ok with it." I brightened and said, "they will know all about you next week anyway."

Liam returned my smile.

After dinner, we went to bed. We both read for a while. Liam sat up with his back against the headboard while I laid on my back, using his chest as a pillow. I read until I fell asleep.

I grew to hate Sundays.

Sunday's meant my time with Liam was coming to a close. This Sunday had a silver lining because I would only have to wait until Thursday to see him again. This only partially comforted me because it was also the premiere. As the time drew closer, I knew I'd regret saying yes.

I sat with my head in my hands in the store's dressing room. Just picking which dresses to try on had been an ordeal. I had done a quick google search that morning to see what kind of dresses people wore to premieres, and it was almost no help. The range was too extensive. It seemed nearly anything was acceptable, from cocktail dresses to full-on evening wear.

Some articles made me feel sick, especially the articles about the actresses. So many articles talked about how many women found it hard to find dresses in their size because they were size 6 and too big to fit into most designers dresses. I checked out a size conversion chart and found that size 6 was a size 10 here. I was usually a size 10, but sometimes my arse needs a size 12.

I started thinking I was too fat. I kept thinking about my huge arse and thighs, which got me spiralling into thinking my breasts were too small, my hair was too frizzy, I had too many freckles, and I was too pale. The list of my faults just grew in my head until I was sure I'd end up at the premiere looking like a bush pig in a dress.

I started to breathe deeply, in through my nose, hold it, out through my mouth. After several breaths, I opened my eyes. I could do this. I picked up the first dress the assistant had helped me pick. She knew it wasn't going to wor. It was a loose short black lace dress with puffy sleeves that would make me look like the only shape I had was round. The other picks she made were dresses that looked like they were for the bride's grandmother. She also looked at Liam too many times for my liking. She was very helpful if you call taking us to dresses sold out in my size useful. Or if directing all her questions at Liam was helpful. I'll bet she's out there right now being helpful...

Fuck me dead! I think I'm jealous.

That was an emotion I hadn't felt in a while, and I didn't like it. Fuck that. I don't need to be jealous. I picked through the dresses until I found the one I already knew would be the winner.

It was from Australian designer Maticevski. The gown was black with a high neckline, and the beautiful fabric gathered on the left shoulder. The dress was pulled from the hips and cinched in the waist. It had a thigh-high split, revealing just enough skin to be sexy and a small but elegant train. I loved it the moment I saw it and knew I wanted it. But it was $2,500. I loved it so much I almost didn't care. I mean, I knew I wasn't the one people cared about. They wanted to see Liam. This time was different because it would be our first official event together, and the story right now was who was he dating. This time I would get attention. But I still thought it was too much money. I had almost put it back, but the assistant smirked. Liam, bless him, took it out of my hands and said he would love to see it on me.

I wriggled my way into the dress and looked into the mirror. It was the winner for sure. I had brought my heels from Friday night to try the dress on with, and though they weren't quite right for the dress, they gave a good idea of what I would look like. It was slightly too tight around the hips and too a little big on the top. I could get it altered, though. It wouldn't take much. Maybe even a bra with a bit of padding would fix it. I flipped my hair to give it some bounce and a sexy 'just been fucked' look and stepped out.

I was right. She was hitting on Liam hard. I wanted to punch her in the face. But then Liam saw me, and the way he looked at me made me forgot about her. I took a few steps over to him and posed in an over the top way.

"What do you think?" I asked Liam.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes did. He had the same look when he approached me on Friday night. This is definitely the dress.

"It's not too dressed up? I could try something else if you think it's too much." I said to Liam.

"It doesn't quite fit. Perhaps the..." the assistant didn't get time to finish before Liam spoke.

"No." He said firmly, cutting her off. He cleared his throat and approached me. "It's absolutely perfect." He kissed me, and his lips were so soft. He ran his hands over my waist and stood back, looking me up and down. "Perfect. We will take it."

"You don't want to try..." the assistant tried again.

Liam didn't even look at her. "I said we would take it. The other dresses can go back. Thank you for your help." I loved it when he spoke in that authoritative tone, which made me weak.

She went into the dressing room and took away the ten other dresses I was going to try. I wasn't sad to see them go, none of them would be as good as this, but I still wasn't sure.

"I can try another dress. I mean, this one is stupid expensive."

"I don't care if it was a hundred thousand dollars, you look amazing, and you like it, so you will have it."

"I just don't know if I can afford to spend money like this for one night."

"I invited you. I'm paying."

"Fuck. I should have said I need matching earrings." I joked.

"Do you?" He asked, sincere.

"No, don't be silly. Shoes and a handbag will do. I'll buy the shoes you buy the bag. Deal?"

"Nope." He was shaking his head, "I want to get everything for you. Think of it as an Easter present."

"I can afford to buy things for myself, you know. I make pretty good money considering I own my house, and I only have to take care of myself and Perrin."

"I know." Liam ran his fingers through his hair. "Call me a misogynist if you want, but I want to buy you things, pretty things, things you'd never buy yourself. I want to take care of you."

I decided to let it go. I didn't think it's misogynistic to want to buy your girlfriend a present. It's misogynistic if you think you own her because you chose to buy her things. And it did feel nice to have him want to buy me pretty things.

"Ok, Liam," I said.

His smile came back. "Good. Get changed, and let's buy you some shoes." His lip twitched. "Do you need help taking it off?"

"Get out of it." I laughed and got changed.

When I had come out, he wasn't waiting for me. I looked around and couldn't find him in the shoes or the bags. A thought came to me. I hated that I thought it, but I wondered if the shop assistants come on had worked. I didn't believe it, not really, but once the thought was there, it wouldn't leave.

I didn't want to, but I looked for the shop assistant. As I looked, I felt sick from fear and disgust with myself. I found her putting away the dresses from the dressing room, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hated myself. I wasn't usually like this. It wasn't fair on Liam either. He had given me no reason to suspect him at all.

Then I started to panic. My breath came out shallow and rapid. I felt smothered. There were no windows, and I needed to get out. There were too many people.

I felt warm hands slide under my t-shirt and rest on my belly.

I jumped and spun around. It was Liam. "Ready for shoes, Sweetheart?" He asked.

"Where were you? I looked everywhere."

"I went down to menswear real quick," Liam said. "Now that I know what you're going to wear, I know what I'm going to wear, and I needed a new shirt. It took longer than I thought."

"No worries. I just, I didn't know, it's ok."

"You ok?"

I nodded. "Let's go."

Part 17

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

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also on ff.net and ao3

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Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

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A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

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Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

[argylemnwrites]

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, about 21 months after that epilogue, about 8 months since the prologue)

Word Count: ~4400

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: A new member of the family arrives, and both Drake and Riley reflect on how much things have changed over the past 3 years.

Author’s Note: Let’s try this again, shall we? Sorry for the delay between the prologue and this chapter, but I’m much happier with the character arcs I’ve got planned now, and I think you all will enjoy the story more, too. To catch up on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

It was a quiet night in the Kensington neighborhood of Brooklyn. Anderson was curled up in his armchair, dozing lightly after his evening walk. The TV was on, the eleven o’clock news about to start any moment, and Drake was settled onto the couch, ready to watch, no matter how much Riley teased him about being “an old man” for still using the television to get his news. She was stretched out on the couch next to him, her toes tucked under his thigh. She was finishing up her work for the day, reviewing the twitter buzz for the reopening of a restaurant that hired the PR firm she worked for after a video of the former head chef going on a racist tirade surfaced. It was boring, average, and incredibly routine. It was the type of evening Drake enjoyed the most.

He knew Riley saw nights in like this as their “catch up” nights, but honestly, Drake looked forward to them a lot. Sure, in the more than two years he’d lived in New York, he’d come to find many things he loved about the city. The variety of food available at hole-in-the-wall restaurants was amazing, and the portion sizes and prices were always right. The mind games and backstabbing of court were replaced with direct, blunt friendships with Luke, Sunil, Caleb, and Omar, men he’d gotten to know at some of his different temp postings before he got hired on as a permanent employee at the law firm three months ago. And sure, it’s not like he had some great passion for reviewing and cataloging court filings and documents, but it paid the bills. And no one in his life judged him for it.

After Riley had earned her degree, she’d talked a lot about the two of them starting to save up for him to go back to school, researching which universities would take some or all of his previously-earned credits. But at some point, Drake realized that wasn’t really something he wanted. When he’d been younger, leaving Cordonia to get a Bachelor’s degree had felt like a way to establish himself as his own person, independent from the pressure of Court, separate from Liam. But now, he lived in a different city. He had a fiancée and a steady job and his own life already. He didn’t need a degree or a university experience to gain that independence.

And truth be told, with the variety of office jobs he’d held when he was still temping, he was pretty convinced that any career opportunities he could gain from having a university degree would not be jobs he actually wanted, or at least not ones he wanted any more than what he had now. He didn’t want to toil away at some corporate bullshit, striving just to inch up that ladder to get that next promotion. Plus, it turned out he was about as well-suited for office politics as he’d been for courtly politics, which probably shouldn’t have been a surprise. Additionally, if he went back to school, they would have to pay for six semesters, not just two like they’d had to for Riley. Earning that degree just seemed like a total waste of time and money.

Instead, they were slowly saving up for a variety of things these days. Their real honeymoon, not their would-be honeymoon they went on after they postponed their wedding. A road trip out to the West Coast. A bigger apartment for when they had kids. In all honesty, it turns out that he didn’t so much care what his job was. He wasn’t like Liam who found purpose and satisfaction from his work. Nor was he going to be like Maxwell and turn some zany endeavor into an honest-to-god career writing made-for-TV movies. And he did not have anywhere near the skill set and connections that Hana had, allowing her to open a international bakery chain that turned all its profits into disaster relief donations or grants and low interest small business loans for women in impoverished countries. If his job was able to allow him to take care of those he loved, he was happy enough. Taking care of his family and spending time with them was always going to be the most important thing to him. 

His family was on his mind often these days. Savannah was just over two weeks from her due date, and Drake was excited to actually get to know his niece or nephew from the start this time. He and Riley had a trip out to Cordonia scheduled next month, soon enough after the due date that they would get to meet the baby early, but not so early that they would be totally unwelcome visitors. Riley could only get one week off, but Drake was staying for an extra week after she left to spend a little more time with his niece or nephew. He figured it was Savannah’s way of trying to make up for all the time he missed with Bartie when he was little. Regardless, he was looking forward to meeting the second baby Beaumont.

In general, life was just good at the moment. Honestly, things had been good for a while. It was a feeling Drake had never imagined experiencing so consistently. But his life was stable, he knew he and Riley were on a good path, and he had a handful of close friends, both in the city and in Cordonia. His job was tolerable for the pay he earned. He really didn’t feel like he could ask for much more. So he watched the news with a smile on his face, as Riley sat next to him, replying to the occasional tweet.

By the time the newscast got to weather, Drake was yawning. He knew it would just provide more ammo for Riley to tease him about being old, but he couldn’t help it. It was a weeknight, it was late, and he got up before she did.

“Is it bedtime at the retirement home?” she quipped almost on cue, her eyes not leaving her phone screen as she nudged him with her foot.

Drake just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. You coming to bed soon?”

Riley shrugged. “Not right away. In a little bit.”

He nodded as he stood up, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he passed on his way to the bathroom and bedroom.

“Wait, you forgot your phone,” Riley called out. He spun and saw her extending her arm back over the arm of the couch toward him, her eyes still glued on her own screen. He stepped forward to grab it, but it started buzzing in her hand, clearly startling her as she let out a little yelp and brought the phone forward to see who was calling.

“Why is Maxwell calling you at… 6:25 in the morning?” she asked, quickly doing the time zone math.

He just shrugged as he took the phone from her and swiped to answer the call. “Maxwell, what are you doing up?”

“Break out the cigars! It’s a girl!”

It took Drake a few seconds to mentally catch up to Maxwell’s statement. “Wait, you mean Savannah-”

“Had the baby? Yup! Just under 3 kilos and screaming up a storm,” said Maxwell with a chuckle, “They’re still deciding on a name, but I think it’ll be Caroline Annabelle Beaumont. At least that’s what they were leaning to when I stepped out to give them some privacy and give you a call.”

“I thought someone was going to call me when she went into labor?”

“Well… Savannah kind of forbid anyone from calling you. She said that you would just worry too much and would be blowing up her phone when she needed to be focused on other things. She pointed out that it wouldn’t really make a difference, either, with you being in the Big Apple.”

Drake shook his head and sank back onto the couch. “Unreal.”

“Hey, I vouched for you, man! I told her that you would be fine, but her word was kind of final, you know? Given the situation and all. Anyway, she promised she’d give you a call when it was all over.”

“So why are you the one calling me then?”

“Ouch, I’m hurt. I thought we were best friend roomies!” Maxwell said with a ton of dramatic flair. Drake could practically picture him clutching his shirt in mock pain.

“That’s not…” he started with an eye roll, “What I meant was, why isn’t Savannah calling me to share the news herself?”

“She… well… she had to be rushed back for an emergency c-section.”

“What?” Drake felt his heart rate pick up instantly, even though he knew in his mind that whatever had been the danger was likely resolved at this point.

“Yeah… I had stepped out to the hallway with Dad when they were checking to see how, er… dilated she was, when suddenly the midwife was calling out ‘Cord!’ and in an instant there were dozens of staff running into her room.”

“And you’re just now telling me?” Drake growled out. He felt Riley’s hand on his knee. He knew he should probably put the phone on speaker so that Riley could hear more than one half of this conversation, but he was too focused on not missing any details to risk pulling the phone away from his ear.

“It all happened so quickly. One second she was joking with me in between contractions, the next she was being wheeled out of the room and a nurse was explaining to Bertrand the gear he was going to have to put on to go into the OR. Before Dad and I could even figure out what was going on, Bertrand was back and told us it was a girl.”

“He left her alone during everything?” 

“Apparently, the only risk was to the baby, not to Savannah, but since she was attempting natural labor, they had to knock her out, I guess? Anyway, he was with her when she woke up, holding their little girl. I don’t know, the details kind of went over my head, but everyone is happy and healthy now!”

Drake just let out a massive sigh as he ran a hand over his face. It was a lot to process, but he didn’t think Maxwell would have told him all this info and then lied about Savannah and the baby being okay. He sometimes still felt strange, choosing to live so far away from his sister and Liam. He knew it wasn’t rational. He had certainly been more supportive to Savannah through this pregnancy than her first since he actually knew she was pregnant this time, but part of him felt guilty anytime something major happened and he wasn’t right there.

They were thoughts he didn’t like bringing up with Riley, because he wasn’t sure how to phrase it so that it didn’t sound like he resented her for the fact that he lived in a different country. He just had this feeling it would come across that way, when that wasn’t how he felt at all. But trying to work through the storm of emotions that bubbled up whenever something major happened to his friends or family in Cordonia when Maxwell had called to just let him know he had a niece was probably not the wisest decision. So, he swallowed his emotions down and focused on the good news. His sister had a little girl and it sounded like everyone was fine now.

“Well, tell Savannah and Bertrand congratulations and that I’ll call them in the morning here, alright? And thanks for calling me to let me know.”

“Of course! It’s my duty as part of our uncle brotherhood!”

“Don’t think for a second I’m going to start using that phrase, Maxwell.”

“I’ll convince you yet; you’ll see.”

Drake just shook his head as he said, “Bye, Maxwell.”

“Bye, Drake. Send my love to Riley. And prepare for a barrage of photos from yours truly.”

Drake placed his phone on the couch next to him and let out a sigh before facing Riley. Her phone was now tucked away somewhere as she stared at him, eyes wide and full of concern.

“What happened?”

“Savannah had the baby. A little girl.”

“What had you upset?”

“There were some complications, but he says everything’s fine now.”

Riley snaked her arms around him and gave him a little squeeze. “I’m sure it is. Is he gonna send some pictures?”

Drake nodded, and Riley curled up fully next to him on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder, waiting for the photos of his niece. Their niece. Kind of.

He glanced down at the ring on her left hand that rested on his knee. Not for the first time, he wondered if they made the right call postponing their wedding for Savannah’s sake. It didn’t feel fair, that Bertrand and Savannah had it all - married with two kids - while they had put plans on pause. And sure, both Savannah and Bertrand had thanked them profusely. But watching as they moved forward with their lives while he and Riley had to plan and save and budget all over again just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sometimes, it felt like he should have just told his sister just how insane her ask was. He and Riley would have been married for almost eight months by this point. Maybe they would be talking about starting their own family. But deep down, Drake knew that nothing good came from playing the “what if” game. So he tried to just soak in the moment, at peace and at home with Riley, taking in pictures of Savannah’s new baby. He was happy, his sister and her new baby were fine, and his life was steady. He couldn’t really ask for anything more, could he?

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

Riley kicked her legs against the exam table and tugged her sweatshirt a little closer as she checked the time on her phone again. Dr. Mehta wasn’t running that late, but Riley was just a little anxious about this appointment. When she’d called to schedule her next depo injection, she was surprised that she’d been booked for a longer appointment with Dr. Mehta herself, not Val, Dr. Mehta’s nurse. She wasn’t sure if something was wrong or why this was happening. All she knew is that she needed to get her depo before their trip to Cordonia. It would be too late to wait until she got back.

She knew Drake was excited to get back and see everyone, as well as meet his new niece, Caroline. But, truth be told, Riley always found it a bit strange being back in Cordonia, even more so now that Hana had moved to London full time. Even though she’d been a nobody in New York for over two years, she still got recognized every time she and Drake had been back there. Last visit, they’d somehow even attracted enough attention that The Ruby Rise, one of the tabloids there, had run a piece speculating they had come back to enter into some sort of thruple with Liam. The whole thing had been a total mind fuck. Being back just always felt a little bit like stepping into a time capsule or a portal to this very weird time period of her life, one where she ended up grabbing Drake and bolting for the exit as soon as she could.

She supposed that wasn’t an entirely fair comparison. After all, it’s not like she considered her time in Cordonia a negative one. For the most part, she’d had a fun experience, and most of her closest friends came from that time in her life. But it still felt weird, returning to the world of balls and galas and courtly politics where she’d been on her best behavior for months. Now that she wasn’t formally a part of that circle, she didn’t hold back from swearing or snarking when she was there. It always caught at least a few people off guard and fully scandalized Bertrand consistently. Olivia had remarked at Savannah and Bertrand’s wedding that the potty-mouthed, bitchy version she was finally fully seeing was somehow more and less annoying at the same time. 

Two sharp knocks jolted Riley out of her thoughts. She turned her head to the exam room door as Dr. Mehta entered with a smile, a clipboard in her hand. 

“Sorry about the wait,” she said with a smile as she plopped down on the stool by the desk and rolled over to sit in front of Riley. “And you don’t need to be up there if you don’t want to. We just need to chat.”

Riley frowned at that, but Dr. Mehta must have noticed that, because she let out a little chuckle. “Nothing bad, I promise! I just wanted to talk to you about your contraceptive options. Honestly, I should have brought this up at your appointment back in December. I just did my math wrong when I was reviewing your chart then.”

“I’m really happy on the depo, doctor.”

She gave Riley a little smile as she said, “And I’m glad. But unfortunately Depo Provera is only safe to use for two years. And we’ve reached that point.”

Riley felt a wave of panic rush through her. “I can’t go back on the pill! I was always terrible about remembering to take it.” It was the truth. Back years ago, she’d been awful about remembering to take her pill, and it was almost never at the same time of day. 

“That’s fine. You aren’t my only patient who struggles with that, I promise. That’s why I wanted to talk about other long term options for you. I’m assuming no plans to try for pregnancy in the next couple of months?”

“God no!”

She laughed at that. “Just making sure! I think for you, either an IUD or an implant are going to be the best options.” She passed Riley a couple of pamphlets and went over the relevant details, side effects, and benefits.

“So, if you want to think about what you want and give my office a call in the next couple of days, we can get you in next week,” Dr. Mehta concluded.

Riley shook her head. “I’m traveling out of the country next week.”

Dr. Mehta tilted her head back and forth a couple of times, then checked her watch. “Well, I doubt we’ll be able to get you in for an IUD placement this week, but if you have a little time now, I can place an implant today.”

So, maybe a half hour later, Riley found herself walking out of the OBGYN office suite, a thick bandage wrapped around her bicep, pleased that she was set for birth control for the next few years. Not only was it one less thing to worry about, but it felt like the sort of thing a responsible adult did. After living so long with no consideration for the future, flying by the seat of her pants, diving into massive decisions without a second of thought, she knew that times like this, where she planned for her long-term, represented a decent amount of progress.

It was strange, in a way, to be consistently thinking about the future. For so long, her life had been just her scraping by, hoping to claw her way into a slightly better situation. Getting to go and live with her mother again when she was in a shitty foster home. Getting to go and live in a foster home when her mother relapsed hard or when she had a shitty, creepy dealer as a boyfriend. Getting a new job that would pay more. Always scrambling, never dreaming beyond her next move.

But now, she had a white collar job that paid her a college graduate salary, she had a nice apartment, and she lived with her dog and her fiancé. No one would guess that she’d lived off food stamps and free school lunches and had bounced around from couch to couch and then from foster home to foster home. She lived the life of a well-adjusted woman, and that meant considering the long-term, not just the short term. And today she’d done just that. She felt responsible and capable. It was a nice feeling.

She’d been all ready to brag about her very mature decision, but when she got back to their apartment, things were chaotic. Anderson was bouncing off the walls, and Drake was livid on the phone with the airline about their upcoming flight, so she took out the dog, and by the time she got back, Drake basically had dinner on the table. All thoughts about her birth control were pushed out of her mind through dinner and some heated hands of poker, until she was getting ready for bed that evening. She was tossing her sweatshirt into the hamper and Drake was by the dresser he’d painted lime green for her. As she got undressed, he caught sight of the bandage on her arm for the first time.

“Riley, what happened?” he asked, darting over, eyes locked on her left arm as he sank down on the edge of the bed to inspect it closer.

She couldn’t help but smile. His reaction was so predictable. “Nothing.”

“But your arm…” He gently traced his fingers over her bandage, as if he would find some evidence of some horrible injury on her, something he somehow missed and needed to correct.

“New birth control. Bandage comes off tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.” He still seemed leery and continued his inspection of her arm. “Why’d you change? Was something wrong?”

Riley shrugged. “My doctor said that I had reached my limit for depo. Besides this one lasts three years. Seemed mad convenient.”

Drake’s fingers stopped their path with her words, his eyes jumping from the bandage up to her face. “Three years?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, just stood up, walked back to the dresser, and started rifling through his drawer.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, Liu.”

“Clearly it’s something,” she said, joining him by the dresser, forcing herself into his personal space until he made eye contact with her again. “You’ve never given a shit what I’ve done for birth control before. What’s up, Drake?”

He shook his head a little before returning to rifling through the drawer, flipping through old t-shirt after old t-shirt. “I told you - it’s nothing. Since you’re the one who has to deal with any side effects or whatever, it’s obviously your call. Have you seen my blue Cordonian football shirt?”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t change the subject.”

He took a moment before he responded, closing his eyes for just a second and taking a deep breath. “It’s stupid.” He opened his eyes again and gave his head a little shake, his eyes still glued on the drawer. “I just… I don’t know, I guess…”

“You want kids within three years.” She finished his thought for him, knowing without a doubt that was what he was struggling to tell her.

Drake finally looked up at her and shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I have a timeline or anything, but… I don’t know. Three years is a long ways off, you know?”

She did know. “I agree; a lot can change in three years. In fact, three years ago, you were just some rude asshole who clearly thought I was a crown chaser.”

He rolled his eyes at that before quipping back, “I just didn’t realize someone recklessly impulsive enough to hop on a private jet with a couple of guys she’d known for less than 24 hours could survive to be your age. It was really a compliment, me assuming you at least had a goal in mind.”

“When did you realize that I was just flying by the seat of my pants and clearly had no plan whatsoever?”

“When you told Olivia you were going to slap her. That degree of lack of diplomacy just can’t be found in someone who knows how to become queen.”

“But you still thought I was going to be queen at that point.”

“I mean, I just assumed you were going to stumble your way into the role, but do you really want to get into why I thought you would be queen?”

She shook her head, laughing lightly as she placed her hands on his chest and nudged him backwards to their bed, straddling his lap as he sat down on the end. “No, I think the less said there, the better. Besides, we both know I would have been the world’s shittiest queen.”

Drake opened his mouth to respond to that, but Riley didn’t give him a chance, leaning in and kissing him. After a moment, he deepened the kiss, sliding one hand to her shoulder and running another through her hair. But a few seconds later, he pulled back slightly, his hand sliding over the bandage on her arm. He stared at it, tracing his fingers over it again and again. 

“It’s an implant, Drake. I can get it removed if for some reason we are ready for kids in two years or whatever,” Riley said, sliding her fingers under his chin, redirecting his eyes from that damn bandage back to her face. “It’s not a big deal, okay?”

He swallowed roughly, but then nodded. “Okay, Liu.” And then his lips were back on hers, his hands working under her tank top, sliding it up bit by bit. She rolled her hips down against him, ready to move on from their conversation. She could think of far more enjoyable ways to spend the rest of their evening than the minutiae of her birth control choices after all. And as they tumbled backwards onto their bed, she tried not to think about the fact that Drake avoided touching her left arm for the rest of the night.

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @iaminlovewithtrr @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @shz256  @thequeenchoices  @sunnyxdazed​

[indiacater]

Was hoping to have the first part or chapter posted yesterday but that didn't happen. Here you guys go I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: This story is going to include topics of racism, sexism, prostitution, sex and violence. I do not own the characters of TRR nor the world of RDR2. Both are owned by their respective companies.

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @ao719 @bebepac @hopefulmoonobject @cordonianroyalty @kingliam2019 @dcbbw @radlovedreamer @texaskitten30 @darley1101 @sashatrr

PART ONE

Liam rides into the near barren town of Armadillo, hopeful that the person he’s believe can help him is there. After dismounting from his horse and looks around. “This might be all for nothing" he thought to himself as he walked towards the sheriff’s office. Once inside he spots the sheriff lounging in his chair, legs of the desk as he reads the paper. Liam tapped on the desk to get the sheriff’s attention.

The sheriff shot his head up to see who had disturbed his peace and quiet. He took a brief look at the blond haired man and rose to greet him.

“Sheriff Drake Walker. What can I do ya fer?” he asked as he leaned nonchalantly on his desk. Liam respectfully removes his hat and responds “I’m looking for a fella named Jèan Reeves. I wish to request their services and I heard that he was in or near this area.”

Sheriff Walker shrugs his shoulders as he dryly laughs and goes back to his paper. Liam moved around to the front of the desk upset and confused. “And what the hell is so funny?”

Sheriff Walker looks up again from his paper. “Well first, Jéan isn’t the type you go looking for.” He says watching the blond man stand stoic trying not to look offended. “To answer your question. Yes Jéan was here.” He then tossed his head towards the cell where Liam saw four men residing in them. “Collected bounties on all them" As Drake leaned forward on his desk. “However Jéan went out near 5 days ago on a request I ask for.”

Liam just stood there, biting the inside of his cheek trying to think of what to do now. “ Well where did Jéan go for this job? I need his help and as you can understand.” Again Drake chuckles which begins to agitate Liam as he slams his hand down on the desk. “JUST WHAT THE HELL IS DAMN FUNNY?!” he shouted. Drake leans back again in his chair. “I’m laughing because you’re an upper crust, Saint Denis rich boy. Jéan is someone whose help you'd never want. You were better off looking for help from the safety of your golden walls.” Drake says as he watches Liam’s jaw tightened.

By now Liam has taken more insults than he was willing to take. “Why would you think that? What is it about Jéan that I would find unsavory?” Liam spat. “Jéan is descended from a well respected law man, a talented shooter, a renowned tracker, and medical school graduate. I need their help and came all the way here to get it. Why are you trying to turn me away?”

“Because Jéan is a colored. Their granddaddy, you spoke highly of was a colored. And last I checked your lot ain’t too kind to coloreds"

“Well ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black my friend. Ain’t you lawmen herding them up and sending them out to the work camps? “ he said as he stood up with his hands on his hips. “My name is Liam Rhys and I need to find Jéan Reeves. If you know where Jéan is then please tell me so we don’t have to pleasant each other’s company no further.”

Drake yawns and stretches. “Well Jèan should be back in town by ‘morrow afternoon. Was headed west in New Hanover. So I would suggest you go grab yourself a meal, a bed for the evening because you’re better off waiting. As I have said before Jèan ain’t the type of person you go looking for.” Once again Drake goes back to his paper.

Liam puts back on his hat and briskly walks out of the sheriff’s office. Never feeling so angry and insulted. Feeling lost and not a lot of options he headed towards the inn and got himself a room. When evening came he went and got some food in him from downstairs doing his best to steer clear of the drunks and working girls. Liam tried through the night to sleep but barely could. He dug through his pocket to pull out his father’s Platinum watch and remembering his last moments of seeing father alive. Being pushed out of the way as his father was repeatedly hit with bullets, the sounds of his stepmother horrified screams, the hunger crazed look of the scared face, fat gangster as he stood over father as he delivered the final shot ending his life. With the lacking sleep bringing back painful memories Liam gets out his map and sees that New Hanover is a half day away. He went to go pack up his things and get his horse. He wasn’t going to listen to a rude, podunk sheriff, with his head up his ass. Jèan Reeves is his only shot at getting justice and he’s not going to wait around.

As he got his horse and lit a lantern he took off. Despite not knowing where in New Hanover Jèan is or what Jèan looks like he was determined to keep going. After about a couple of hours the morning sunrise began to rise. He stopped to put out his lantern and took a second to see his surroundings. He continues on for a bit longer when he spots an injured solider laying by a tree by the road. Liam immediately stopped and dismounts.

“You’re injured sir. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Immediately the “soldier" springs up brandishing a small knife. “Give me your money and goods now, rich boy" Liam begins to back away when he’s struck hard from behind. As hits the ground he sees a heavy set man, wearing no shirt and in overalls holding a club that he uses again to hit Liam with. He hit Liam a few more times before the deafening sound of a gunshot rang out. Seconds later another, closer shot rang out. Liam opened his eyes wide enough to see the attackers on the ground dead.

Liam turned over to see a figure coming towards him. He could barely make out his savior as the lack of sleep, fear and beating cause him to fall unconscious. The stranger kneels down to examine Liam injuries. Luckily there were no broken bones, and wasn’t seeing any evidence of a concussion. The stranger brings Liam’s horse to his body and hoisted him onto it back. The stranger then grabbed the reigns and calls over theirs. As the stranger mounts they tie the reigns to their horse and begins a steady pace back to the town of Armadillo.

Hours later Liam groggily wakes up and feeling the pain of his attack. He slowly sits up and sees that he’s back in his room he rented at the inn. As he gets up he looks around and see his stuff was not touch or missing. He checked his pocket and sees he still has his father’s pocket watch. Feeling relieved he limps to the window. Outside he sees the unhelpful sheriff having a heated conversation with a unusually dressed colored woman. He then sees Drake pointing to his window and both walking in direction of the inn. About a minute later the door opened and Drake and the stranger walk in.

The colored woman steps forward with her hands on her hips. She looks Liam up and down. And with a smirk speaks. “I’m Jèan Reeves. I've been told you were looking for me.”

[joealwyndaily]

Sometimes the best Christmas presents are the ones we don’t think we need; a new Christmas Carol, for instance. Indeed it may be indicative of a certain unappreciated vacancy around the Christmas tree that in discussing the BBC’s new version of the Dickens classic both its director and leading man refer back to The Muppet Christmas Carol made way back in 1992.

“I was sent the script,” admits Nick Murphy, best known for directing the Rebecca Hall ghost movie The Awakening, “and my first thought was, ‘For God’s sake! The Muppets! They nailed it. What’s the point?’ ”

Joe Alwyn, who plays Scrooge’s clerk Bob Cratchit in the BBC three-parter, has meanwhile posted a trailer on Instagram with the caption: “Hard to fill the shoes once worn by Kermit. But I tried.” The self-deprecation was quickly “hearted” by the singer Taylor Swift, who is the actor’s girlfriend and who will be watching the mini-series with Alwyn and his family in London in the final days before Christmas.

There is nothing wrong, of course, with The Muppet Christmas Carol. It is probably in most people’s top three adaptations of Dickens’s masterpiece (alongside, I would say, Alastair Sim’s 1951 version and Scrooged). Its endurance does suggest, however, that it may be time someone did something a bit more serious, a little darker and a touch more grown-up with a tale that excoriated Victorian neglect and associated Christmas with the relief of poverty for ever more.

And this is exactly what Nick Murphy has achieved with a bracingly fresh script by the Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight. Guy Pearce’s Ebenezer Scrooge is still a “squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner”, but since Pearce is only 52, there is rather less of the old. At the end of the novel, Dickens wrote that “ever afterwards” — that is after Scrooge’s Very Bad Night — “it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well”. That is rather more of an achievement when, as in this version, you may have 40 Christmases, rather than a couple, left to you.

Equally remade is Cratchit, who in Alwyn’s incarnation is far from the bashfully gulping frog thanking his master for granting him Christmas Day off before scampering back to Miss Piggy’s fleshy arms. Although Alwyn grew a rough beard for the part, his is also the best-looking Bob Cratchit you have seen. As the actor and I talk at the Picturehouse Central cinema in London, I find him as mesmerising off screen as on.

“Bob is trapped by Scrooge,” Alwyn says. “He’s abused by him. He’s not treated fairly. He’s there only because he has to be. He’s treated like shit.”

I’d say there’s a definite feeling in their shared scenes that Bob might just snap and hit Ebenezer over the head with a poker. “That was the intention. He’s at breaking point. He’s pushed right to his limits and Scrooge, I think, relishes winding him up. All Bob can do is hold his ground and fight back as much as he can — but he isn’t such a sap in this version.”

Scrooge and Cratchit’s relationship so much resembles an unhappy marriage that the niggling, bitter exchanges invented by Knight, with very little reference to Dickens’s dialogue, resemble Steptoe and Son rewritten by Strindberg. The easy contrast would have been with the Cratchits’ poor but happy marriage, but this too comes under scrutiny. There is an acknowledgment of the challenges a disabled child can bring to a household, and it is somehow emphasised by Tiny Tim being played by Lenny Rush, an extraordinary young actor, aged ten, who has a rare form of dwarfism called spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita, the same condition as Warwick Davis.

“It really mattered to me that nobody was photo-fit,” Murphy says from a studio where he is dubbing the last episode. “Bob Cratchit is always a winsome, put-upon nice guy and the Cratchits themselves represent this idea of an ideal, working-class, lovely family. So we looked into their relationship on the page and there seems a genuine tension between Bob and his wife. Things are hard. It isn’t easy to have no money and a disabled child, and they lean on each other and they’re not straight with each other and there is a genuine antagonism between them.”

Knight has written into the narrative a family secret that connects the Cratchits to Scrooge. The secret belongs to Mrs Cratchit, played by Vinette Robinson, whose part is greatly expanded; indeed, the novella does not even grant her a first name, although the Muppets, and other adaptors, opted for Emily.

“Inevitably the secret begins to surface and cracks appear in the family,” Alwyn says. “Something has to happen. I think what Steven has done is take the story and drill deeper. He hasn’t taken too much liberty. It’s not bending the truth too much from what Dickens would have wanted. Or I hope not.”

Murphy insists that worthwhile adaptations of classic texts should be “edgy” and have “a good bite to them”. “If you absolutely don’t want any variation from the book then I strongly suggest you sit in a corner at Christmas and read it again. But if you want to see it used as a prism through which we can see a broader and slightly different subject explored, then this one’s for you.”

Alwyn’s performance is part of the iconoclasm. “Joe’s instinct as an actor is always to push away from the obvious and into ambiguity,” Murphy says. “He’s very quietly spoken. He’s not brash at all. He’s a gentle, intelligent guy, but he just simply wasn’t interested in fitting a Dickensian cliché.”

“I’ll take that,” Alwyn says when I pass on the compliment, having not considered his technique in such terms. He is 28 and would probably accept that he is best known for two facts: the first is that he is Taylor Swift’s boyfriend; the second that, aged 25 and with no professional acting experience, he won the title role in an Ang Lee movie.

He is from north London, the middle of three sons. Their father is the television documentary-maker Richard Alwyn, renowned for making The Shrine about the public reaction to Princess Diana’s death.

“He was away a bit,” Alwyn says. “He made quite a lot of films in Africa when I was growing up. He was often in Uganda, Rwanda at one point, South Sudan. So he’d come back with stories and artefacts from all over the place. He made a great documentary in Liverpool during the World Cup about two kids on an estate growing up there.”

His mother, Elizabeth, is a psychotherapist. So, I say, although his family were comfortably off and he was sent to the fee-paying City of London School, he knew something of other people’s lives?

“All different kinds of people, all different kinds of stories,” he says. “Obviously, she couldn’t share them with me in the same way that Dad could, but both their jobs take an interest in other people and are about how to empathise, understand, and listen to stories and tell stories. I suppose it’s not a million miles away from an actor’s job; listening to other people, understanding them, trying to tell stories.”

I ask about the contemporary political resonances of A Christmas Carol. I cite the wealth of certain members of his profession and of Swift’s. Only the other day I have read that she has a private jet so she can visit Alwyn on a whim. He promises me that 99.9 per cent of what the press write about them is false, and this is an example.

I ask if he finds it embarrassing.

“Find what embarrassing?”

The disparity between the amount some people earn and the wages of workers in, say, Amazon fulfilment centres.

“I saw something in The Guardian the other day, I think, saying that the top six richest people in the UK accumulate the same amount of wealth as the poorest 13 million. I think that was the figure,” he says.

And politics today?

“It’s bigger than Scrooge, but it’s the same thing amplified; not being able to see beyond yourself, building walls, cutting yourself off from other countries. If there was ever a story to counter that, featuring someone who epitomises that and then who remembers who he is as a human being, it is A Christmas Carol.”

Unlike the young Dickens, Alwyn was not a boy to stand on a table and sing and dance. As a child he auditioned to play Liam Neeson’s son in the Richard Curtis film Love Actually, but didn’t get it. He harboured ambitions to act, but pursued them only later at the University of Bristol, where he took plays up to the Edinburgh Fringe. One night he acted before an audience of one: the writer’s mother. Undeterred, he went on to the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama, joining the scramble at the end to find an agent. Weeks later, his new agent rang to say that Ang Lee was working on a new film, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, and wanted to see an audition tape.

“I got some mates to film me in a lunch break and then my dad filmed another scene, and we got a call that night saying, ‘He wants to meet you this weekend. He’s saying, we’re going to put you on a plane and take you out of school. Come for the weekend. Learn these scenes.’ ”

As Billy, a young US Marine fêted for killing an enemy assailant in Iraq, Alwyn was painfully believable; a virgin solider returning home to be exploited for an act that had devastated him. The film did not do well, mainly because it was shot at a hyper-reality frame rate that few cinemas had the technology to show, but Alwyn was on his way.

“Things only evolve by change and people taking risks,” he says. “And Ang Lee is someone who I admire for that. None of his films are the same. Maybe thematically they draw on the same things, but he’s always pushing the boundaries.”

The same can be said for A Christmas Carol and, even more, about Yorgos Lanthimos’s The Favourite, in which Alwyn appeared alongside Emma Stone and Olivia Colman. It applies less so to his other recent films, Mary Queen of Scots, Boy Erased and now Harriet, a faithful biopic about the slave liberator Harriet Tubman in which he played a slave owner’s son. What he has managed to do consistently is work and learn from some seriously good actresses — Colman, Stone, Saoirse Ronan and Cynthia Erivo. “I know. I am targeting them,” he jokes.

I tell him my daughters have insisted I ask if he minds Swift writing songs about him (whole albums, actually, but check out London Boy if you are in search of a little cringe). “No, not at all. No. It’s flattering.”

Does it matter to him that the press — it’s a bit metatextual this, I admit, for I’m probably doing the same thing — make it obvious that they are as interested in his girlfriend as they are in him? “I just don’t pay attention to what I don’t want to pay attention to,” he explains tolerantly. “I turn everything else down on a dial. I don’t have any interest in tabloids. I know what I want to do, and that’s this, and that’s what I am doing.”

The boyf, described only the other day as “mysterious” in one of those tabloids, is no mystery at all. He knows what he wants for Christmas, and it is the career he is already forging.

A Christmas Carol begins on BBC One at 9pm on Sunday

[axwalker]

The Trade 6

Synopsis :  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC LiamxMC 

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. Non for  this chapter though

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR.

To catch up: Masterlist

One thousand thanks to @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ for being my amazing beta reader , having infinite patience and creating THIS INCREDIBLE moodboard ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I'm tagging those who asked, if you want to be added to the list just ask, I'll very be happy to do it :)  

@pug-bitch​ @mskaneko​ @burnsoslow​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @msjr0119​ @pedudley​ @texaskitten30​ @desiree-0816​ @kingliam2019​ @yukinagato2012​

Drake stood next to the window staring at Alexis who was visibly uncomfortable. After a few seconds of deafening silence, Drake moved to the desk and started looking angrily for some papers.

“Well, it looks like I’m stuck working with you.” He growled, “we might as well start.”

Alexis arched her eyebrows “Yes, we are both stuck. It’s not like I am jumping of joy to work with you either” She took a deep breath, after all, everything was her fault. “In any case, I would like to apologize, I kn-“

Drake shook his head interrupting her “There’s no need. You were just telling the truth last night. You have absolutely no feelings for me, isn’t that right Alexis?” He looked at her pointedly.

At the sight of those penetrating brown eyes directed at her, she felt her resolve to crumble. His manly presence had the amazing power of making her feel nervous and feverish.

“Yes, no. I mean ...”  She ran her hand through her hair “I don’t know what I meant. I just know that I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry you didn’t.” He smirked at her wishing internally that it was true “Concerning Liam though, I can’t decide if you really like him or you’re just playing with him because of his position “

She looked away without saying a word.

“What? You’re not even going to defend yourself?” He asked angrily taking a step towards her.

“What for?” She answered her eyes lit with fury “No matter what I say, you won’t believe it” She added sadly, “you already decided what you think of me.” She couldn’t face him anymore, so she turned to the window.

“And whose fault is that Alexis?” He took another step closer, now standing only a few inches away from her. He could almost touch her and there it was, that electric tension between them again. His fingers ached to reach hers. Strangely enough, for a few seconds, he had the impression that she was feeling the same. He could’ve sworn that her fingers moved too, almost touching his hand. Suddenly, she moved to hug herself.  

He watched her for a moment, trying to decipher her expression. She had a deeply sad look on her face, but he couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. She was breathtaking with the light of the sunset reflecting on her eyes and auburn hair. There was some sort of vulnerability in her that made him want to take her into his arms more than anything.

“It’s mine,” she finally answered regretfully. “I shouldn’t have lied that night” Or last night, she wanted to add but couldn’t.

Drake finally reached the spot where she was standing next to the window. He leaned against the wall crossing his arms on his chest without taking his eyes off of her. He spoke with a soft voice, trying not to sound as angry as before.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But it’s done. Let’s try to forget about it and work together.” He took a deep breath trying to hide the disappointment on his raspy voice. “For Liam’s sake.”

She answered with a sad smile of her own. “Yes, you’re right. Maybe you can brief me before the meeting in Lythikos tomorrow.”

Pointing to the seat next to the desk so she could sit, he started to tell her everything about Liam’s plans for Cordonia.

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Olivia Nevrakis was ready to host the first meeting of Liam’s cabinet at her Lythiko’s estate. She wanted to make sure everything would be perfect for his first encounter with the team, so she and Drake had spent hours planning everything until the last detail. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and she loved to tease him, but he was one of the most capable people she had ever met, and God knows that was not a compliment she gave easily, definitely not to men. However, his most important quality at Olivia’s eyes was his loyalty, she was sure they were the only ones that actually had Liam’s best interests in mind. Not only because they had both grew up with him and loved him, but because they both believed in him.

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Neville Vancoeur was the first to arrive at his suite at Lythikos. He hated to recognize that the rude redhead hadn’t spared in any luxurious detail and had even thought of buying his special brand of champagne. He was hoping he could convince the woman he loved to spend one more night with him but since the beginning of Liam’s campaign, she wasn’t being herself. His mind suddenly drifted to the money he had invested. At first, he had been torn between Liam and Godfrey but had finally decided that Rhys was a more secure investment than the old Fydelia’s governor. Today was the first cabinet meeting, he would be able to see if his money was being put to good use.

The ride to Lythikos gave Hana Lee an opportunity to improve her education proposal for the meeting. She was sure that amongst all the members of the cabinet she was the happiest to work with Liam in the construction of a new Cordonia. They shared the same ideals, the identic conviction that the only path to success was a good education and that the one imparted at Cordonia needed a desperate reform. Still, she was anxious to present her project to the rest of the cabinet. After all, she knew Rashad, Bertrand, and Neville only thought about rentability and a new educational program was costly. She only hoped Liam believe in her enough to fight for the budget that would fund the program. She was so lost on her thoughts that she didn’t see Kiara talking to her.

“Hey, Hana” Kiara grinned “Are you there?”

“Sorry, Kiara. Were you talking to me?”

“Yes, I was asking if you were ready for the meeting”

���Yes, I am. I’m a little nervous, but I have faith in the program”

“You do?” Kiara cocked an eyebrow “For what I heard is costly and you don’t have all the cabinet’s support, I know Rashad will vote against it and Bertrand too. You will need some friendly votes to get it through.”

Hana looked at her colleague inquisitively. “Like yours, Kiara?”  

The brunette nodded “It would be a good start, we’re both women in a sea full of men and we should support each other.” Kiara didn’t add that she knew that helping Hana now could be fruitful in the future.

Hana was pondering Kiara’s words and was about to answer when she saw the young diplomat face lit up. Her entire demeanor changed, and she plastered a flirty smile in her face. Hana turned expecting to see Kiara’s fiancé Rashad coming their way. She was surprised to discover that the man capable of such a transformation on Kiara’s behavior was no other than Liam’s assistant, Drake Walker.

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Rashad Domvallier had been conflicted for months. The stress of having to keep so many secrets was slowly killing him. The campaign wasn’t easy either.  Kiara had been very clear of what she was expecting of him, and he knew it was best to play by the rules she had set for both of them. Rashad trusted her and was sure she wouldn’t stop before anything to get them to the top. He’d have to continue living a lie. Rashad didn’t like it but the truth would cost him everything, so he had to be careful that no one would never find out.

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Drake thought about everything that had to be ready for the cabinet’s meeting in Lythikos. Everyone was supposed to sit down and discuss Liam’s program, but Drake knew some of them had their own agendas. They still didn’t know what Neville Vancoeur was going to ask them in return for his investment. Rashad Domvallier had a lot of ambitions and Drake knew he was going to try and take any possible advantage for his company. Bertrand’s well-known priority was to restore his family’s old glory. And Kiara Theron cared about her career more than anything. And now her. It was bad enough that he couldn’t shake her off his mind, now Alexis would be physically present during the whole campaign. They had spent the morning before together, and even if they both managed to stay professional after their discussion, a sort of tension that Drake couldn’t describe stayed with them. Drake sighed; it was going to be a long afternoon.

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Constantine entered the office Olivia had set for Liam at her house.

“Good morning son. I came because I wanted to discuss some of the positions, you’re going to confirm this afternoon regarding the cabinet.”

Liam looked up from the papers he was reading. “My decisions are already taken, father. You know who I chose for every position.”

Constantine smiled at his son. “I do, Liam. I just don’t want any surprises.”

“If this is about Olivia, don’t worry. She’ll understand. She’s too young to be in charge of the Department of Defense. And she’s always been supportive of my decisions.” He stared at him. “I won’t change my mind concerning Drake though. He will be my chief of staff, father”.

“Oh, I know son. And I actually think he’s a good choice. He has a master’s degree in political studies, he’s intelligent, loyal as a dog, and lacks the ambition that would make him a threat to you.” He added the last part contemptuously.

Liam answered angrily. “He doesn’t lack ambition, he’s just not as passionate by politics as we are. You know Drake wanted to do something else with his life.”

Constantine raised his voice. “I wasn’t going to pay an expensive career so he could spend his life taking care of fucking animals when he could be useful to us. To you.”

Liam knew there was absolutely no point in discussing Drake with his father. “We agree then. Coronel Richards for the Ministry of Defense and Drake for Chief of staff.

Constantine looked pointedly at his younger son “And your brother as vice-president”.

The young candidate sighed “Right. My brother” the same one that didn’t even bother to show up at Lythikos to be at the meeting.

Constantine grinned at his youngest son. “You didn’t tell me what you thought of your new speechwriter”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up father. Subtlety has never been your strong suit. I know what you’re doing”

“I told you there were going to be some perfectly good suitors at the masquerade. I’m just happy that you found one, Liam.”

“To be honest, I didn’t think I would like anyone at that party. But Alexis is …” He paused pensively “so different, so beautiful and passionate. I actually think you could be right father; she could be it for me.”

“Well, the timing couldn’t be better, Liam.”

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The cabinet meeting started at 4:00 p.m. Everyone gathered around the table at the business center of the Lythikos estate.

Liam started with a short speech trying to inspire them with the ideas and projects he had for his country. Then he proceeded to announce that they had a new addition to the campaign team. A trail of murmurs was heard across the room when Alexis entered.

“Good afternoon, everyone” She was standing before them. “I’m Alexis O’Brien. I’m very happy to be part of this campaign. I can’t wait to start working with you.”

Kiara saw Drake looking at her the same way he did at the masquerade ball. It made her dislike Alexis instantly. “Aren’t you the ambassador’s daughter?”

“Yes, I am” Alexis stated simply.

“Wow, easy way to get a job.” She smirked.

“I’m sorry, aren’t you Judge’s Theron daughter?” Alexis asked raising her eyebrows

“As a matter of fact, yes I am. I’m also fluent in six languages and have been preparing for this position for a long time” She turned her computer showing a Google page “You, on the other hand, have not. I mean after your degree, you just banished. You haven’t work in any campaign or written anything worthy of being mentioned anywhere”

Liam rose to speak on Alexis' behalf, but she beat him to it.

“I sure hope you’ll run the Department of Foreign Affairs better than you google. I don’t have anything to prove to you, but for transparency’s sake, let’s get this over with.” She stood in front of Kiara. “Lookup Elena Ortiz”

Drake’s heart skipped a beat when she said the name she had given him the day they met. Alexis avoided his gaze.

“As you can see,” she continued when Kiara typed and multiple results showed on the google main page, “I’ve worked in two different campaigns, one for the New York mayor’s office and one for the democrat primaries, both candidates won.” She paused and looked the brunette right into her eyes.  “I’ve also written for the NY Times and the Washington Post, but I don’t know if that’s good enough for you.” She saw Kiara was about to speak, she lifted her hand to stop her “before you ask, I changed my name because I didn’t want my father’s name to influence anyone, I wanted to be hired for myself, miss Theron.” She emphasized Kiara’s last name.

Liam smiled proudly at her. “Well, if that’s all concerning Alexis, I have other announcements to make.” He saw his father nod at him from the other end of the table. “If I win, I’m naming General Richards as the Secretary of Defense.”

Olivia rose from her seat. “What? What are you talking about Liam? You promised me that position.”

Liam shook his head. “No, Liv, I said I would consider it.”

“Bullshit! It was done until you let yourself get influenced by him.” She pointed at Constantine “Is that how this is going to be if you win? You on the stage but he always behind you actually running everything?”

“Olivia, sit down.” Drake took her arm. “You’ll speak about this later, privately.” Drake was angry at Liam too, he knew how much Olivia wanted to be part of the cabinet, how hard she had worked for it.

Olivia sat visibly furious; Liam continued. “Everybody here saw this coming, but I’ll make it official. Drake, I’m naming you Chief of staff.”

Drake nodded.

It was Neville’s turn to get upset. “Him? Can’t you name someone who has more political power?”

“It will be Drake, and that’s final. Now the position everyone is wondering about: VP” He sighed knowing that his father wouldn’t be happy at his decision “It is true that I considered Leo for it, but he doesn’t care enough to even show up today.”

Constantine shot an angry look at him, but Liam ignored him.

“I decided to name someone that has always stood by my side, she’s an excellent tactician and I know she’ll defend this campaign with the same fire she just showed us. Olivia, do you want to be my vice-president?”

Olivia Nevrakis never cried, but if she did, she would’ve cried then. She answered visibly touched. “Of course, Liam. I’ll be honored.”

After discussing the rest of the cabinets’ positions and reviewing Hana’s educational proposal, Liam dismissed everyone for the rest of the afternoon. He was aware he would have to face his father’s rage, but he didn’t care. Liam knew he had taken the right decision.

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Alexis decided to take a walk around Lythikos to think about everything that had happened at the meeting with the cabinet. Lost on her thoughts, she didn’t see the smiling man running towards her.

“Lexie, hi!” Maxwell was out of breath trying to catch up with her.

“Max!” She was genuinely happy to see him; he was one of the friendliest people she had met in Cordonia. Or anywhere else.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, Beaumont events are in charge of tomorrow’s fundraising. There will be another ball here in Lythikos, at Olivia’s mansion tomorrow night.”

“Olivia …” She paused thinking about her next question “She seems very close to Drake… and Liam. What’s the deal there?”

“Oh, they grew up together. Olivia’s parents died when she was 4 years old.” Alexis gasped, Max nodded and continued, “her father was Constantine’s chief of staff, so he adopted her. Drake’s mother moved to Texas and let him and Savanah, Drake’s sister, with Constantine and Regina.”

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t know much about the details. Maybe you could ask him.”

“Hum … so the four of them are like siblings” She seemed relieved.

“Uh, five. There’s Leo too. That’s Liam actual brother”

“Oh, yes. My father mentioned to him. He’s a senator too, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Valtoria’s. But he’s not like Liam. He doesn’t care about the people he represents or about anything really. Well, that’s not true. He cares about women. Like a lot. And I’m not talking about fighting for their rights” He winked at her

“Ha! Yeah, Max, I got that” She bites her lip unsure of how Max would interpret her next question “So, Olivia doesn’t have a relationship with Drake or any of them?”

Max snickered. “That’s hilarious. Drake and Olivia, he! If one day you get suicidal, I suggest you ask Liv that; you’ll be dead in less than 5 seconds.” 

“Why? Do they hate each other?” It certainly hadn’t seemed so earlier. During the meeting, Drake had been the only one capable of calming her.

“The contrary, I think Drake is the only real friend she has. He’s like a true brother to her. I mean Leo is always away. My magnificent self, as unbelievable as it sounds, annoys the hell out of her and she’s in love with Li …” Max put his hand on his mouth realizing that he had talked too much. “Damn! I’m sorry!”

Olivia was in love with him. That explained, partly at least, her outburst at the meeting and then the tenderness on her eyes when she had accepted to be his VP.

“Don’t worry Max. It’s ok”

“But you and Liam are dating, right?”

She ran her hand through her hair, something she did when she was nervous. “Liam and I are getting to know each other. I don’t know what will happen”

“Well, Li is a great guy, really amazing. I grew up around politicians and I can tell you this, not a lot of them care about their country as much as Li does.” He looked at her carefully. “But, just so you know Drake is a pretty great guy too.”  

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything, Max. I just told you I’m seeing Liam.”

“Yes, I know is just … Ok, I don’t know you that much, but I really like you Lexie, so I’m gonna give you a dose of my legendary honesty.” They both laughed. “I was there the night you two met, and as clueless as everyone thinks I am, I saw. I saw how he was looking at you, how he was smiling, how he was almost shy around you, believe me I know Drake since we were kids, I’ve seen him coming on to a lot, and I do mean a lot of women, but I’ve never seen him like that. And you seemed as smitten as he. What happened little blossom? “

Alexis smiled arching her eyebrows “Little blossom?”

Max shrugged “You smell like a cherry blossom.” He put his arm around Alexis’.

“To answer your question, nothing happened. It was a good date, but then I met Liam. That’s it.”

Maxwell shook his head. “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me, Blossom. I know there’s something more, but I’ll leave you alone.”

She decided to change the subject “And you Max?” She smiled mischievously “Anyone special in your life?”

He blushed “Actually, yes. There’s someone special. I just don’t know where I stand. Is nothing official yet”

“Well, well, well look who’s being secretive now. Tell me more!”

“He! I will, just not here in the middle of the street. I know Cosmopolitans are completely out of fashion but I’m feeling vintage. Let’s hit a bar, Lexie”

Alexis snickered “I’d love to, but I have a diner with the whole cabinet. Raincheck for tomorrow?”

“It’s a date”

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The diner had been better than Alexis had imagined. The Mediterranean food was delicious.  Olivia had placed her next to Bertrand, and even if he had seemed a little rigid at first, they soon found a shared passion for art and literature and ended up having a nice conversation.

Liam was chatting with General Richards but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Alexis. He was in awe at the way she had of being comfortable in any situation. She would be a perfect first lady. The idea of Alexis on his arm, sharing everything with him, being his wife, made him smile. People would say it was too soon, but he was truly excited for the first time since he could remember. He wasn’t naïve, but he’d always believed in love at first sight. Something he definitely would never share with Drake or Leo, both being far too cynical to understand. His eyes drifted to Alexis again. She was poised and elegant but had the sweetest smile and he had loved every second he had spent with her. He couldn’t wait to take her out again.

After one hour of painful chat with Kiara, Drake had finally found a valid excuse and went to the bar. He needed something strong to help him through the night. He couldn’t help but think back at the last argument he had with his sister. He missed her deeply.

Suddenly, his gaze stopped at Alexis. She was wearing a loose white sweater that made her tanned skin glow. He was surprised to see that not only she was talking to Bertrand, but she was doing it happily, and the old Beaumont was actually grinning back at her. She had the power of making anyone feel important, and it wasn’t fake charm, it was genuine interest. Drake smiled to himself. He knew he could watch her for hours. Her hands moved rhythmically while she spoke, emphasizing everything she said. Her smile lit up her entire face and reached her eyes. Eyes that were as expressive as the rest of her and had a twinkle of life that he was starting to like way more than he should.

“Watching something you like, Walker?”

Neville startled him. “What do you want, Neville?”

The shorter man snorted “It’s Mr. Vancoeur for you Walker”

Drake laughed “Please Vancoeur, you know I’d rather stop drinking whiskey forever that call you Mister.”  

“It is amazing how you managed to grow up with the Rhys and, still did not care to learn any manners or respect for your superiors.”

Drake smiled cockily, put his whiskey glass on the bar, and took a step towards Neville. “Care to tell me who my ‘superiors’ are, Neville?”

Suddenly the room went silent, everyone now staring at the scene at the bar.

“I was just joking Walker, you should not take everything so seriously,” Neville thought that with the whole room watching, Drake wouldn’t dare to touch him, so he added, “your sister was definitely much more fun than you are.”

Drake grabbed Neville by his jacket, ready to punch him.

Liam stood up to diffuse the tension. “That’s enough both of you. Neville, let me invite you to a drink.” He gave his friend an apologetic smile, Liam loathed Neville but he couldn’t ignore the fact that his family money was funding half of his campaign.

Drake stormed out the door without saying a word.

Alexis couldn’t believe the scene. Neville was clearly provoking Drake and Liam, instead of defending his best friend preferred to buy him a drink. She looked through the window, a storm was clearly coming, and there he was, alone and upset. She had to do something about it.

Taking her coat, she decided to follow him.

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Drake was fuming, he had let Neville get the best of him. He knew that Neville was doing it on purpose, that he was trying to place one of his rich friends as Chief of Staff and that he wouldn’t stop until he discredited him. And even knowing all of that, Drake had fallen for it. Liam’s reaction pissed him as hell too. He understood that Neville was crucial for his campaign, but it would be great to feel that for once someone was on his corner.

Suddenly, he heard a noise. He turned and he froze on place when he saw Alexis staring at him.

“Hi!” She said with a soft voice

“What are you doing here?” He growled the question.

Her face fell. “Oh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He didn’t understand. “Why?”

“Well, you were obviously upset after what that jerk told you. And I think there’s a storm coming.”

Drake couldn’t help it, he felt his heart swell at her words.“You shouldn’t be worrying about me, O’Brien”

“O’Brien?” She looked perplexed.

“That is your name, isn’t it?” He asked teasing her.

She smiled rolling her eyes “Yes, it is. So, what are you doing here?”

He sighed; he really wanted to share the moment with her but he also knew that doing it would only deepen whatever feeling he was starting to develop for her. Either way, he couldn’t stop himself.

“If you really want to know you’ll have to trust me.” He took a step towards her without breaking eye contact.

She stared back. “I trust you with my life.”

“Your choice O’Brien.” He gave her a crooked smile and shove her onto the soft snow.

“Hey!!” She snickered. “I suppose that one was my fault for trusting you!” She punched him playfully in the arm when he laid next to her.

“Stop complaining O’Brien, you’re missing it” He pointed at the most star-filled sky she had ever seen.

“Oh God, Drake, that’s…”

“Yes, milady?” He asked jokingly

“Gorgeous. I don’t think I ever have seen anything so beautiful before”

He turned to look at her eyes sparkling from the light of the shooting stars and at the expression of pure joy on her face. And he knew that it was the same for him. He had never seen anything so beautiful before either.

He blushed and turned back to look at the sky. “Nothing beats a clear view during a meteor shower.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t miss this,” she said softly.

“Really? I imagined you’d prefer to stay at the house discussing political tactics with Rashad or budget cuts with Hana.”

“Ha! Not really my scene.”

“Well, you clearly like politics, you worked on those campaigns and wrote in political journals”

She frowned “Yes, I love writing more than anything so I enjoy being a journalist, but I only participated in those campaigns because I believed the candidates could actually make a difference in the country, not because I love politics. Believe me, I know how despicable and disgusting they can be.” She said the last words fiercely, she had grown up seeing her father’s unethical tactics.

Some clouds started to creep across the stars “We really got here on time, looks like the storm will start any minute now”.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to miss it.” He smiled nostalgically. “I used to do this with my sister Savanah every year. We grew up around the Rhys’. My dad was Constantine’s bodyguard, and my sister and I were allowed to hang out with Li and Leo. Then shortly after he passed, we moved with them for good. So, we came here often. And then Sav left too”

“Where did she go?” She noticed the sad look in his eyes and would’ve given anything to comfort him, but she didn’t want to get any closer to him. They were already too close for their own good.

“She left to reconnect with my mother.” He sighed “It’s a long story, one that I won’t be boring you with.”

She spoke in a soft but firm voice, trying to convey how much it mattered to her. “Your story could never be boring to me Drake. If one day you want to talk, I’ll be here to listen.”

He turned to her, the desire to pull her body close to his and hold her was overwhelming. Alexis was there, laying at a few inches of him, her smell all around him. It was torture having her so close and being unable to touch her. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, so he stood up.

“Is time to go, O’Brien.”

He gave her his hand so she could steady herself, but he pulled too strong causing her to lose her balance. She almost slipped, but he was quicker and took her into his arms to avoid her from falling. They stood like that for a few seconds, her head in his chest, his hand caressing her hair.

She didn’t seem to have the strength to pull apart from him and blamed his woody scent, it was addictive. 

Reluctantly, she separated from him and took his hand desperate to keep some form of contact with him.

Drake looked at her questioningly.

Alexis blushed. “You know for safety.”

He nodded and walked her back to Olivia’s state.

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Back in his room, Drake poured himself a glass of whiskey to calm himself. His heart was still racing after a moment with her. He would have to get whatever this was out of his system for his own sake. He knew that she would never choose him over Liam.

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He had called her as soon as he saw the latest poll results. He couldn’t afford to lose and the way everything was going he was sure he would have to face a defeat. After his years in politics, he knew enough people in the right places, people that would be more than happy to help him in exchange for a favor or two. However, his most genius idea had been to recruit her. She was young and ambitious, and she wouldn’t stop at nothing to achieve her goal.

He was aware of how much he had changed. After all, he had been one of the first people to believe in democracy, to fight for it, but he had to admit that giving the power to the people hadn’t been a good idea. They weren’t always smart, and their vote often contradicted their bests interests. That’s why he had to step up one last time for the sake of his country and change the curse of elections.  

[sexatoxbridge]

Okay, so I am a little confused about some of your answers regarding Liam's situation (mostly about maya) and it's probably on me to be fair, but you're not blaming him right? Also, you have probably explained this in the past but would you mind debriefing on how they're all still connected to SC? And why Liam still needs to lie about bear when cheryl is under new management? Thanks

I don’t think that “blame” is the right word, but I don’t see him as a victim here. 

Regarding his situation in general, Liam’s celebrity image has been largely wrapped around events and other people over the past couple of years (as opposed to music). He also seems to be the member of One Direction who talks about One Direction the most. Whereas we know from listening parties that fans were told not to ask Louis questions about 1D, Liam is incapable of letting an opportunity to remind everyone that he was in 1D (and miserable about it at that) slide by. Kind of like how Taylor Swift can’t write an album without heavily implying that at least half of her songs are about her two month “relationship” with Harry Styles. It’s like omg

Another very complicated subject for Liam seems to be Zayn. He simultaneously cannot stop talking about him whilst also never keeping a consistent opinion or story on the matter of his exit from 1D. Whereas I haven’t heard Harry say Zayn’s name in about five years, Liam has relentlessly talked about him and it changes day to day whether or not he has something nice to say. I think the day he said he’d throw Zayn off the boat if he had to throw one of the members of the band off was the day that I was like   

Everyone knows Zayn can’t swim! 

Anyway. Remember this guy?

Edward Enniful is the editor-in-chief of British Vogue. Him and Liam spent A LOT of time together. 

It’s how he met Naomi Campbell (don’t even get me started on that mess of a stunt) amongst other models Liam was reportedly dating and probably how he got his Hugo Boss deal. He was also there, it seems, to coordinate the arrangement between Liam and his current girlfriend.

I don’t have the patience time to theorise on the nature of their relationship, but what is clear is that Edward was around whenever Liam was with all these models the tabloids claim he was banging. So, when I say that Liam’s celebrity profile has been wrapped largely around events, I mean events with Edward*, who paraded him around fashion events for the better part of a year. 

My point is, Liam inserted himself into this crowd and lifestyle intentionally. This thing he has with this girl, however, does not benefit him in the slightest when it comes to his image. In fact, I would say that even before it transpired that she’s only 18 it was a pretty questionable storyline to be like, “Liam is dating a 1D fan!” It already sounded predatory and even if she was 19, that’s still really fucking young. 

I genuinely have no idea who Liam’s management (or friends for that matter) are since it seems like no one is giving him a head’s up that this relationship is getting a pretty unanimous reaction of 

Honestly, I don’t even think his fans are being honest with him. I certainly didn’t want to talk about any of this because I prefer to keep my negative opinions to myself since there’s enough criticism out there as it is, but lately whenever I think of Liam I’m like

SOMETHING is going on. And unlike Louis, who looks like he’d rather put a campfire out with his face than be around any of his beards, Liam is actively participating in and promoting this relationship as if he’s being paid to do so. Because he is. He should really put #Ad on every social media post he tags this girl in since not doing so violates the rules of Instagram. 

As to his connection to SC...I wouldn’t be surprised if SC was like

to all of this as well. He’s probably like, “Yeah I know my ghostwriter I wrote in my book that if you want to become famous you should have a PR relationship with someone famous, but that’s for people who AREN’T ALREADY FAMOUS.” 

I would be pulling something out of thin air if I were to tell you how SC and Liam are linked at the moment, since beyond his appearance on TXF it doesn’t seem like they’re too close. Then again I would not be surprised in the slightest if Liam showed up as a contestant on Celebrity XF. It would be less shocking than his Child Beard™ girlfriend being 18.

As for Cheryl and Bear

I know this seems like a whole lot of word vomit on how Liam is the worst, but I genuinely think that it is in his best interest to realise what the public perception of all of this is. I am not saying that my opinion is universally shared, but given that almost nobody has jumped to defend the idea of him dating an 18 year-old, I feel like most people are pretty much in agreement on that being a bit..weird. And creepy. It’s definitely creepy. On both ends...like what’s the story here? Love at first meet and greet? 

The reality is that either:

1. Liam is being paid to date an 18 year-old girl to give her more exposure and fame (which isn’t happening because no one is buying what they’re selling)

or

2. Liam is dating an 18 year-old fan who he met when she was 14

Twice

And again when she was 17

It doesn’t help that she looks like a child.

The fandom didn’t like the predatory implication that when Cheryl was 32 she was attracted to 14 year-old Liam, so I don’t know what PR genius decided to double down on the questionable and inappropriate age differences, but this is not a good look for anyone. 

I GENUINELY hope that someone pulls Liam aside and convinces him that his talent is enough to make him a celebrity, because it certainly is. If he needs money, he knows this fandom can do a whip around like no one else, he doesn’t need to be on some shady lawyer’s payroll just so some rich kid can have an iota of relevance. I’m not going to try and deeply psychoanalyse someone I don’t know, but these certainly do not appear to be the actions of someone with confidence in their work. These stunts and events and cameos from random celebrities make it seem like he’s clutching to relevance, and the desperation is very off-putting. 

Liam has done some incredible things musically since the band went on hiatus, but all of that is being overshadowed by what appears to be an obligation to make someone else famous. Unlike his girlfriend though, he isn’t a kid. And I think some serious reassessment is in order. 

[kinghoranshit]

The Watchers (1D) - 72 Hours

Part 4

“We’re gonna die,” Zayn declared. "We are fuckin dead."

I reached out to lightly hit him on the arm and I signaled everyone to stay quiet. Whoever managed to turn off the security system and power knew we were in the bunker somewhere, but didn’t know where. We still had the upper hand for the time being. There were pretty good odds that it would flip sides though. 

“Stay here,” I whispered. 

My right hand hovered over the switch knife as I got up from where I was crouched. I let out a deep breath and made my way down the hall to the front. Slowly, I pulled the knife and pressed the button to open it. There weren’t any shadows that I could see from where I stood; they were probably trying to draw us out. 

Hunters could be so stupid. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement upstairs. Carefully, I went up the steps and peeked around the wall. There in plain sight was a hunter looking into the bedrooms. I crept up as close as I could get, then wrestled them into the nearest bedroom. I held them in a sitting-lock position with my legs holding down theirs and my arms under their pits.

“How many more?” I questioned. 

They didn’t budge so I tightened up on my arms and positioned the knife close to their neck. “I said… How many more?” 

“Too many,” they chuckled. “You’ll lose.”

I laughed under my breath. “You underestimate me, clearly. Give me a number… Or don’t, you’re dying either way.” 

It took another minute or so of me tightening my grip before they huffed, “Fifteen.”

“Thanks,” I grunted and sliced their throat with the thin blade. Their body rolled around as they frantically tried to stop the flow of blood. I shook my head with a small smirk. Enjoy the slow death, fuckhead. 

A group of sixteen, eh? Of course they managed to find us. Sixteen people splitting that prize money? They all wouldn’t have to work for the rest of their lives.

I didn’t bother wiping the dark liquid off the tip and made my way back downstairs. There was a creak that came from the living room and I wished that the layout had been more closed off now. Whoever it was definitely saw them.

It wasn’t hard to miss the tall figure holding an axe; they looked into the kitchen from where they stood in the living room. All of them had gotten up from their chairs, prepared to run, but when they saw me they didn’t. I held a finger up to my lips as I snuck up behind. 

“Fucking do something!” Liam yelled, and I cursed. What a fucking moron. 

The figure whipped around and growled at the sight of me. “A Watcher.” 

“In the flesh,” I smugged. 

Immediately, they tried to throw the axe at my head. I ducked as I ran, then slid between their legs and hopped onto their back. I dug the knife into one of the main airway valves in the neck before they grabbed my shoulders and chucked me across the room.

I coughed at the loss of air in my chest and cautiously got up from the shards of glass that were the remnants of the coffee table. I felt the cuts stinging my skin, but didn’t have the time to mull them over. The figure returned with the axe and stalked toward the guys, despite the knife that stuck out. I can’t imagine that feels great.

I launched and latched onto their body. I kicked the hand that held the weapon to get them to drop it. Then I drew a handgun with a silencer on it and shot them in the foot, then the head; double tap. 

“Two down, fourteen left,” I remarked, no sense of relief, and began to assess the bits in my arms. The vest and crossbow prevented any larger incisions. 

“How many?” Niall deadpanned and lowered himself into a chair. 

“That was… fucking awesome.” Louis laughed. Despite everything? I’m not surprised.  

I glared at Liam. “You want to yell again? Let them know exactly where we’re at?”

He made that kill a lot harder than it should’ve been. 

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in response. 

“Katie, let me sterilize those cuts.” Maddy opened her kit and found rubbing alcohol. Arguably my least favorite thing to apply to an injury. 

“No, I’m fine.” I shook my head and gestured to her to put it away. “Save it for them.”

The ringing in my ears returned and I swallowed. The whites of everyone’s eyes were apparent in the dark and it was unsettling, but as long as I saw six of them grouped together, I was doing my job.

I heard the death star whisk past before there was a cry of pain.

“Fuck... My fucking side! What the fuck?” 

“Under the table!” I ordered and shoved chairs out of the way. Harry helped me drag Louis underneath, and Harry had to hold him down to stop his shaking. The steel star had ripped through his clothes and flesh to create a gash that was grossly deep. 

“Maddy,” I clenched between my teeth. 

“I’m on it,” she replied and used the only towel she had to soak up what blood she could. I watched her do a process of using a lighter to crust the sides of the skin to stop the staunch flow before I set my focus on taking care of the new hunter.  

There were two actually, and one of them brought it upon themselves to crouch down and reach for Niall who was closest. 

“Ah, help! Katie!” He kicked as much as he could, but that didn’t stop them of course. 

I threw a switch knife into one of their hands and shot the exposed chest with a bullet, then their forehead; always double tap. I didn’t get to the other fast enough as a bullet plunged into Niall’s arm, causing some blood to splatter onto Maddy’s back. Her stance didn’t falter in the slightest as she finished Louis and put herself in line of fire to get Niall.

These hunters had terrible aim. Something told me they probably weren’t the real threat out of their group. I threw my body into their skinny legs to throw them off balance and wrestled my way up to shoot them in the heart twice. 

Twelve.

I took a couple deep breaths to slow my racing heart. I pulled my blade out of the dead hand to put it away, and reloaded my handgun before holstering it. 

Niall whimpered in frustration and bit his curse words as Maddy finished digging the bullet out. I felt for him, but a bullet into the arm wasn’t the worst damage; it was child’s play to be honest. 

Louis grimaced in pain from where he continued to lay, sweat coated his face and neck. He was definitely out; there was no way he could run if we needed to. I guess the kitchen was our base for the remainder of the purge. I needed to gather their weapons and get more ammo from the vault. 

"Katie?" he rasped. 

"Louis, save your breath." He would need to get safer medical attention if he survived. 

He barely shook his head. "N-no… I l-love… you."  

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Louis, this is not the time to confess love. We still barely know anything about each other. Don't be cliche." Maybe I felt it too, but it really wasn’t the time.

"A fucking Watcher, eh?" 

I huffed and looked in their direction. "You bet your fucking ass. If you want them, you'll have to go through me." 

"Gladly." 

They made a running start at me with their weapon of choice; a machete. A classic. I chucked my switch into their privates before drawing my gun to put two bullets in their chest and head. 

Eleven. 

This sending one or two in at a time is a different method, especially for a large group. I can only guess they thought it would be more terrorizing. It would be if I didn't know their count. To be completely fair, that first hunter could’ve been lying to me. It was a number to focus on though. 

"Harry, if we have to move, I need you to carry Louis. Niall, here is my other gun. I need to get more ammo." 

I didn't wait for a response as I pulled the knife out from my last kill and kept it in my palm. I flipped it around in my hand as I went to the closest vault; the hallway closet. I decided to take another gun on top of the ammunition. A yell from the living room had me sprinting. 

I couldn’t help laughing at the sight of another hunter stuck in a bear trap. It snatched his ankle pretty good. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” I stated as I held my gun to their head and pulled the trigger. Then I put another in their heart.   

Ten. 

Quickly, I pulled their ankle out of the claws and reset it before I went back to the table. I gave Niall more ammo and reloaded my own. Then I grasped my crossbow and loaded it up with three arrows. 

“Okay, as far as I know there’s ten left. They’re probably saving best for last so I beg of you, listen to me, okay?” 

All of them nodded. My eyes switched back to Louis and his eyes were barely open. 

“Maddy is there anything else you could do for Louis?”

“I’ve got proper surgical gear and anesthetics in my room. If I can get up there, I could get it cleaned up better and resew it, and give him a good ass high to numb the pain.” 

I smirked. “Deal. I’ll go first. Niall, I need you to hold down the fort here.”

“Are you mad?” Liam remarked. “You can’t leave us alone. Niall just only started to shoot that weapon.” 

I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. “You really want your bandmate to die from his wound? Niall has a pretty good shot. You’ll be fine and if you feel so inclined to protect your own life, there’s a machete or axe right there.” 

Thankfully, the trip to get Maddy’s bag was uneventful. I even got a glance out the open door and there was nothing out there. It was definitely unsettling. 

She stuck a needle of some anesthetic in Louis’s arm first before she began to clean it up once more. There was no way that wasn’t going to leave a mean scar. A great story for the future.

I took the liberty to sanitize my own scratches and it was now I felt the cut on my cheek. There was blood in my mouth. I only wiped it away and used some gauze to cover it up. I popped a couple pills to subside the pain that my adrenaline had been hiding. It’s been quiet for a while. I hated that. 

My head snapped up at the noise of more whispers that weren’t the voices of our group. Slowly, I stood and made my prepared aim with my crossbow. It was time to get multiple in one. I followed them down the main hallway into the other room that was opposite of the living room by the front. 

“Tell your friends I say hi,” I stated and when they turned around in slight surprise, I pulled the trigger. The metal heads went straight into their necks, then I grabbed my pistol to get one in the head and the other in the heart. 

Eight. 

“Kat! They came from the back!” Niall yelled and then were the sound of a shot. Who knew if that was Niall or them. Considering no one is yelling in pain, I had a good guess that it missed the intended target. 

I snatched the arrows and felt the little splatters of hot liquid on my hands. I restrung them and ran for the kitchen. I barely took the time to aim before I pulled the trigger and missed. 

“Fuck!” I muttered. 

This time I chucked the crossbow at their head and made a run start to kick them in the chest with both feet. I sprung back up and used my switched blade to slice their neck. 

Seven. 

I loaded up the crossbow again and strung it across my back. I observed everyone. We were still in the same state as before. They waited longer that time before they sent more in, but now they were coming in more than one way. We needed to hydrate, and maybe eat something. Luckily the refrigerator still had bottles of water in it. 

“Drink up,” I ordered and tossed everyone a bottle before I took my own. 

“Kat, let me take a look at the cut on your face.” 

I looked at Maddy with a small smile. “It’s fine. There’s seven left, at least that’s the number I’m down to. How’s Louis?”

I overlooked the exhausted group; Louis was better, but he needed to be in a real hospital facility after this. I couldn’t help reaching out to lightly touch his fingers.

She shrugged. “He can’t lose any more blood, but what he lost initially is enough. If the wound opens back up, or he gets another, he won’t survive.”

I let out a deep breath. “Okay.”

His fingers tightened around mine a little as his eyes reopened to glossily gaze at me. A little smirk crossed his lips. “We will manage, love.” 

I smirked back with a shake of head. I opened up my bottle of water and took another sip. I had to be careful not to drink it too fast. 

“Niall, how’s the arm?” 

Niall laughed under his breath. “Better than ever… Never thought that I’d actually be shot.”

“No one does,” Harry remarked with a small scoff. 

Zayn raised his eyebrows. “You said there’s seven left?” 

I nodded. “That’s what I’ve counted.”

“Do you think the others will come?” Liam asked. 

“I don’t know, but part of me doesn’t like that we’re sitting ducks now. We should try to figure out how to get the power back on.”

“What about the breaker?” Maddy suggested. 

Niall pointed to her. “Oh yeah, I think I saw it in the basement.” 

My jaw tightened as I thought. We might be safer in the basement. Less entrances, they’d have to look a little harder to find us… maybe, the basement might be the first place the next ones think to look. It was still better than this kitchen. And if we could get the power back on, that meant the security system would reboot itself. My watch said it was four am; we just needed to make it another four hours. 

I cleared my throat. “Let’s go. Everyone.” 

As we all began to get up and make our way to the basement, there was an arrow that shot down the main hallway and stuck into Liam’s leg. His cries were louder than either of the rest who were injured. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I used my own crossbow to aim and fire toward the figure that was standing on the front porch. I aimed once more and shot another before I drew my pistol as I crept closer. They were dead. 

Six. 

It was then, though, I knew I made my greatest mistake of the entire purge. 

I swallowed and held my breath lowly as I saw the rest of the hunters surrounding me outside. My dad's words rung in my head, I could run and probably lose them. But I couldn't leave the boys and Maddy like that; I was assigned to protect them, at whatever cost that may be.

“Kat?” Niall called. “Everything alright?” 

I nodded. “Just go, I’ll be there soon.” 

There was hesitation before he and Zayn helped Liam move downstairs. Harry, Louis, and Maddy were already downstairs. I waited until I heard the door close to assess my situation more. There were one on each of my sides, another machete and gun, and four on the ground, stars, two guns, and knives. I definitely needed to take out the two closest to me and make sure none of the groundies make it up the porch stairs. 

“Before we kill you, we have an offer. Help us kill them. You’ll live and maybe we’ll give you a cut of the prize money.” 

I snorted as I looked the hunter with the machete up and down. They were playing with it; spinning it around in their hand. As if that was meant to scare me. A machete was one of the least scary weapons imaginable. There weren’t many weapons that did cause my skin to crawl; it was being at complete uneven odds. I could say, though, that I was at my best fighting game when the risks were high.

“Hmm, let me think about that… No.”

I ducked to dodge a bullet and rolled toward them. I threw my switchblades into the leg and stomach of the machete. Then I grabbed the ankle of the pistol with my feet before I gripped their shirt and tossed them over the railing. I couldn't forget about the stars; those were more deadly than a bullet wound. 

“Get ready to lose a limb!” The machete was swung at me and I dove between their legs to avoid it. 

“You know, if you’re trying to kill me, announcing your attack isn’t the smartest strategy.” I drew my pistol to use the last of two shots to put a bullet in their forehead. I made my double tap and quickly switched out the packets before I ripped my bows out of the kill that led me here and loaded my crossbow. I ducked down behind the railing for a little bit of protection as I thought of my next move. 

Five. 

Something grazed my ear and I bit on my lip. The fucking stars. I didn’t have to touch that area to know I probably had a chunk missing and it was bleeding.

Here we fucking go. 

I launched myself over the railing and made a rolling stop before I aimed my crossbow and my arrows serrated the skin of two hunters; stars and a gun. Actually, one of my arrows went through their eye socket. I could see the sun rising behind them. I counted my breaths with my steps as I continued to take their attacks. 

I lost my pistol from one of them hitting me and I was now relying on a little bit more hand on hand combat. I did take a good couple punches to the face, which definitely reopened the cut on my cheek, and to my kidney, and a small paring knife in my shoulder. I used the knife hunter as a shield when the stars decided to throw another my way and they tore part of their mate’s arm. 

The sound of their pain-filled cries was like music to my fucking ears.

I took a knife from their stash and silenced them in one go. Then chucked it into the star's heart area to end them finally. They’d all had larger statures; I wasn’t surprised since they were the last of the litter. 

Finally, I was down to one. The hunter I’d thrown over the railing. They’d joined the fight, but began to back off when their numbers started to drop. Slowly, I gripped my crossbow and loaded it with bloody gut arrows. My hands looked disgusting right now. I’m sure the rest of my body didn’t look any better. It was a mixture I couldn’t wait to wash off later. 

I licked my lips before I aimed it in their direction and cocked my head. “Last one, eh?” 

“I will leave. The money doesn’t mean that much to me. I was just doing this for shits and giggles.” They shook their head and raised their hands in the air. 

“I’m not laughing,” I remarked and pressed the trigger.

Zero.

I sighed as I scoured the area, to make sure they were really the last one. I gathered my gear before I went inside, noting the lights were back on. Instantly, I shut the door and was grateful to hear the mega lock click. Then I let myself finally fall to the floor in fatigue and I closed my eyes momentarily. It wasn’t long as all the injuries pulsed at once and I grimaced at the most prevalent one; my shoulder. 

“Maddy!” I yelled. “I need you.” 

There were heavy footsteps that came from under me before the basement door burst open to reveal Niall, Zayn and Maddy. 

“Oh my god! Kat!” she exclaimed, immediately beginning to attend the small sustained injuries. 

“You… You fought with a knife in your shoulder?” Niall lightly gasped. 

“Well,” I grunted deeply as I held down my arm and Maddy slowly pulled it out. “You never pull out a knife if you don’t know what it possibly hit. Trust me… I’ve had worse.” 

Zayn gestured in the direction of out front. “How many did you fight out there?”

“Six… There’s none left.”

“Fuck, mate,” he breathed. 

I couldn’t stop the tears that slid down my cheek while Maddy finished wrapping it up. Now, she attended the cuts on my face and cringed when she looked down at my leg. 

I cleared my throat. “What is it?” 

“Kat, you had a death star hit the side of your thigh.”

“I, uh… I don’t remember that one happening.” I willed myself to look down and didn’t bat an eye at the sight of my own shredded up skin, the black particles of my leggings mixed in. “Can you get that cleaned up?” 

“I’m gonna-I’m gonna go back downstairs. I can’t take any more of this,” Niall announced and fled to the safety of the basement. 

Zayn pointed in that direction. “Uh, me too…”

I snorted. “How’s Liam’s leg?” 

Maddy shook her head. “I’d say it was equivalent to Niall’s bullet wound.” 

“So… nothing?” 

Both of us laughed. I waited patiently while she finished, then helped me stand up. Walking would not be a cake walk until it healed in the upcoming months. We limped to the kitchen and eyed the bodies that littered the floor, along with broken glass and weapons. 

“Should we move them elsewhere?” Maddy asked. I was shocked with her directing that question to me, considering I knew this wasn’t her first purge. 

“Let’s wait until the purge has been called, then we’ll toss them outside.” In the off chance that there were more outside, we needed to keep that front door closed. It registered that two of them had come from the backside entrance and I went to find the culprit exit to close it off, resetting the bear trap. 

Maddy left to I assume go get the rest to come back up stairs as they all resurfaced. Liam’s expression was less than thrilled, though it softened after he took in my current state. I only rolled my eyes; he didn’t deserve a better response to his behavior. 

Despite not opening the front door, I still directed everyone who could to move the bodies in a more fashioned pile and sweep up all the broken glass; we didn’t need anymore avoidable injuries. 

Everyone collapsed into their own chair while Louis laid on the couch. I looked down at my watch and felt all the relief of the world. There was only one minute left. 

The blue hue filled the living room and my eyes scanned the hologram of Rump. “I am here to announce that the 100th year of the bounty purge is now over. No more violence may commence. There will be consequences if you choose to do so… Officials will be stopping by to take count of those who haven’t already been turned in. Until next year.” 

There was a small flash before it returned to the normal lighting. Not that we needed it anymore, we could open up the windows for more natural light. 

“So… who wants breakfast?” Harry asked with a small smile and clapped his hands once as he stood. 

Next and last: The End

[Masterlist]

[ruels-bucket-hat]

Joke - Ruel

Chapter 1

Kara was facing with her back towards me as I stepped up closer to the painting on display. It had been a while since we last saw each other, 2 months to be exact, so any opportunity to get together was taken. “Kara?” I gently tapped her right shoulder. She quickly glanced in my direction and took a second look before she realized that it was me standing behind her, causing her eyes to light up.

“Oh my gosh,” Kara lifted her hand to her mouth, “LEAH!” She spread her arms out and embraced me in them, consuming me with her chocolate and peppermint mixed smell. “I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow,” she let go to raise her jeans.

“We weren’t,” I started to giggle as excitement took control over my body. “Your art is on display; did you really expect me to miss the first day of the exhibit?” Kara had a smile across her face caused by my words, but quickly faded when she reached for an earpiece I didn’t notice when I came up behind her.

“Okay-” she says under her breath.” She looked back at me with her finger still on the earpiece. Few one-word answers escaped her mouth as I stood awkwardly in front of her. Eventually, her hand fell to her side, “I have to go fix something that came up. It shouldn’t take that long, so you can wander around until I get back.” Kara gave a sincere look to apologize for leaving so abruptly.

“Just don’t leave me here alone for long,” I demand jokingly, but half serious as well. She laughs before she turns around and heads for a different hallway. The painting she was admiring, before I interrupted her trance, was of the Golden Gate bridge. I found myself getting caught up in it as well, since I didn’t notice the rush of people headed towards the entrance until a hard hit to my shoulder woke me up. Kids were being dragged by their parents, girlfriends were stumbling as they were being dragged by their boyfriends, and everyone was traveling in a faster pace than before. It’s been eight minutes and Kara isn’t back yet, so I might as well see what is going on.

The crowd was exiting through the same hallway that Kara entered. The hall led to another room, this one bigger than the first, where even more people were trying to scatter out. It was hard to push through the amount of people stampeding their way out the door, but I had to find Kara. A gunshot went off and everyone ducked their heads down, giving a clear view of what was ahead: Kara.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She looked down the shaft of the gun that was pointed towards her and quickly glanced in my direction after most of the crowd had escaped the room. I couldn’t see the face of the person holding the weapon, but the carrier’s long fingers were wrapped tightly around the trigger. “Now, I know for a fact that there is money at least somewhere in this building, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” the weapon holder taunted. He spoke clearly and with an accent, “I think you know what I am here for.” Kara stood frozen, not able to answer him. “Aw, am I scaring you?” he spoke in a low tone. More tears were strolling down her face.

“Please don’t,” I whisper. The masked man heard the words that were let out under my breath and he put his arm down before facing me. He had a soft face, not one that would normally be associated with a criminal. He had a surgical mask covering his mouth and the tip of his nose. His eyes were of a green, hazel color and made contact with mine as soon as he turned around. Ruel Vincent Van Dijk.

Even though half of his face was hidden, it was easy to tell that a smirk was growing behind the mask. Ruel Van Dijk was a notorious high-class felon, with the status of D. B. Cooper. “Oh how fun, more people to torment,” he spit out.

“Please don’t hurt her,” I repeated myself a little louder. My voice was shaky as I begged.

“Then switch,” he raised an eyebrow. I started to drag my feet over to where Kara was standing. The look on her face told me not to move, but with Ruel’s position, I was not going to take any chances. I replaced where she was frozen and guided her to a different part of the room where she could not get hurt. “How bold do you think you are?” the scoff that came from Ruel’s tone lowered any confidence I had before, which was close to none. I stood frozen with my feet glued to the floor, becoming heavier and heavier, weighing me down. There was no turning back now. “Stand over there,” he ordered and pointed with the gun. My back was now against the cold wall.

He brought his arm back up and aimed the gun directly at me. Was this the situation Kara had to deal with? He walked closer to where I was standing, putting himself in what was considered personal space. The tall figure pulled down the mask that was covering his mouth. “What’s your name, love?” his hot breath brushed along my forehead.

My heart starts to beat faster by how little space there is between us. A gun is still in his grip and the smell of gunpowder fills your nose. A loud bang breaks my right eardrum causing a ringing in my ear. “You took too long to answer darling,” he put his hand against the wall and leaned in closer. The tip of his index finger on his weapon hand under my chin, pushing it up so that we were face to face. “Well if your not going to give me your name, I’m just gonna have to give you one,” he shrugged and wiped a tear rolling down your cheek. Kara was watching from a distance safe enough so that Ruel could not see her.

“Van Dijk,” a deep voice came from the side of the room. It was hard to hear with the temporary deafness in my right ear. Both Ruel and I looked over to see who the owner was. Two buff guys in suits came up behind him.

“Ruel,” I whimper.

He backed away from the wall, “No love, I asked what your name was. Not mine.” He brought his arm down so that he was no longer pointing the gun at me. “How you know my name though, that has me intrigued.” I turned my head to the side. The look he was giving me only proved how much evil he had running his body. He lets out a small laugh, “Pathetic.” I kept my head still but decided to look in his direction after his subtle comment. “That is your name now,” he waved and walked towards the two other males. “I hope this isn’t our last encounter Pathetic.”

+ + +

“Miss Collins,” a familiar voice approaches behind me.

“Michael!” I turned around and opened my arms to hug an old friend.

“What are you doing here?”

“Kara and I were at the gallery,” I answer. Michaeljust nods his head in understanding. “I’ve already made my statement, so I’m just waiting for her to get done.”

“Leah?” a new voice popped up. I turn and find Liam walking towards us. “How are you doing? I heard what happened.”

If I knew there were going to be this many encounters, I would’ve just stayed home. It was nice to see everyone I used to work with, but it got exhausting having to answer the same questions fifty times. I left the department about a month and a half ago to move back with my family in New York. I found it for the better, since the NYPD had more to offer than the San Francisco police department does. “I’m completely fine,” I reply to the many questions that surrounded me.

An officer opened the door to the room Kara gave her statement in; she came out looking better than when she went in. “You ready to go?” I asked her as she walked out.

She shook her head, “I have to talk to some more people.” The same officer who let her out came over to lead her to another room.

“Leah,” he tipped his hat and acknowledged me.

I returned the gesture, “Dylan.” Michael and Liam were still beside me, hoping to engage in conversation. I turned back towards them, “Have anything big happen since I left?”

Liam lets out a small laugh, “before or after Ruel?”

///

Taglist: @rip-lukes-balsamic @harishaanne

If you would like to be added or removed please let us know 😁

[darthlorddiamond]

Broken Doll

This is the fourth episode of the Black Diamond story, if you want to read the previous episode or follow the next ones you can check my Masterlist.

Summary: Once in Depatar, Liam was trying to get the best deal to sell to Mitsu when an unexpected buyer closes the sale, giving her a new chance.

Words: 2,866

Reading time: 12 min

Category: Bio, Angst

Warnings: Human traffick

__________________

Broken Doll

A short time after I boarded the ship of the scavengers, we´re almost ready to land in Depatar, where, I had understood by the talk of the crew before being locked in Liam's quarters, is the most important of the black markets in the Cularin system.

Shortly before arriving, Liam returned to the room, carrying with him some rags and cleaning products "I can't get a good deal if you look like this" and he throws the things he was carrying in the sofa and turned to see me with a stupid smile on his face "As much as I like the way your little face looks covered in my cum, you have to clean up and make yourself presentable so the clients can see you pleasantly" turning his back towards his desk, he took the chair and sat down while lighting another cigarette "What are you waiting for? Change!" apparently I would have to undress in front of him again, a fact that made me not like it in the least and made me feel unpleasant again, but I had no other choice but to do it, so I started to take off, one by one, each of my heavy clothes, designed to withstand the cold of Hoth, every one of it fall to the floor, leaving my body completely naked. 

Liam was still sitting in his chair smoking, once again running my whole body with his eyes, despite what had happened, I felt very embarrassed, so I turned my back on him, and I went to take one of the garments that were on the sofa when he spoke "No, no, no little diamond, first you have to get clean until the last corner of your skin" I couldn't feel more ashamed, I took one of the rags that were on the sofa, wet it with the liquid that was in one of the bottles that he had brought and I started to rub it all over my body "I really wouldn't like to sell you, but if you stay on this ship, you probably won't go out never from this room and that will not make Grunt very happy” I turned to see him, I was very angry with him, but also with myself and thinking that I could stay locked in this place with him forever just made my stomach turn, he just smiled at me, and continued smoking.

Once I finished cleaning myself, I took the clothes he had left for me, I didn´t understand why these scavengers would have women's clothing on board, probably from one of the many lootings they had committed. The tunic he choose for me, was black and somewhat long, made of a slightly more porous fabric, I was very grateful that it reached below my knees, because I didn´t have underwear anymore, and what I least wanted at that time was that more people saw my full body in the market.

Once I finished dressing, Liam stood up from his chair and approached me, brought one of his hands to my face, gently held my chin and lifted my face while his gaze fell on me "Now we have to do something with your face and your hair. Sit in the chair” I wasn't very happy with the situation, but I still nodded. I approached the desk and sat down, Liam stood behind me and started brushing my hair and anointing it with oils whose scent perfumed the whole room, once he has finished grooming it, he braided the sides and joined them in the back "You have beautiful white hair" leaned in slightly to smell it, closing his eyes "I have to point all your features as much as possible, that way customers will find you attractive" passing by my side, he opened one of the desk drawers and took out a small wooden box.

Recharging his hip on the edge of the desk, he opened the box and start to take out jewelry, which he placed on my ears and neck, inspecting what was the best option to compliment my outfit "I´m curious that, even when you look human, your ears have a pointed shape..." brought one of his hands to my neck and stroked it gently "Without a doubt, you´re a very particular specimen" and without saying anything else, he selected from the box some long rings that delicately placed in each of my ears and bracelets for each of my hands "You aborded this ship like a diamond in the rough and you will leave here being a finest one" turning his back to me, he opened another drawer and took out some cosmetics "You´re a very pale girl..." he fixed his eyes on my face, lengthening his gaze "I have to put on you a little color or you´re going to look like you're sick..." for a moment I could swear he was looking at me tenderly "Nobody wants to buy a sick girl, they will think that you´re useless” my idea that there was someone friendly behind him completely disappeared, and he started to place a little color on my cheeks and lips; even when his hands were touching me with great delicacy, I couldn´t stop thinking that this man was the same brut that last night had raped me “Done! You're perfect!" his gaze extended for a few more seconds than normal on my face again, and shaking his head he walked towards the door without turning to see me "Prepared to disembark little Diamond, we have a very long day ahead".

Once on the streets of the Depatar´s black market, Liam walked beside me, arm in arm, giving me zero opportunities to stray from his side, until we reached a stall in front of an open door. It has a wooden table with various droid spare parts and a series of heavy fabrics covered it from the sun.

"Well, well, what are you bringing me today, Liam?" commented a somewhat old man looking at me, "I thought you were only interested in the spare parts market”, the man was missing an eye and it was obvious that he had spent years marketing prohibited products "Do you know the problem that you can put on me with a girl in my stand?" slowly he approached to Liam, who just snapped his mouth "Please Kam, don't lie, since I knew you, you have smuggled X category products" the other man just shrugged and pulling Liam by the neck whispered something in his ear that I wasn´t able to hear.

A few minutes passed while the scavengers put their loot inside the door of Kam's stall. Liam was always close to my side, all the movement made me feel a little anxious and I kept rubbing my hands, an act that Liam noticed "Don't worry, I won't leave you alone with him" he lit two cigarettes and handed me one, turning to look askance to me "You are my little Diamond..." I took the cigarette Liam gave me and started smoking without looking at him "I will not let your price drop easily only for sale you quickly" I tried to ignore the last comment.

While Liam gave some instructions to his men, I take a look around me, there weren't many options where to fly, aside from the possibility that the other tenants knew Kam quite well and, it was certain that, if I try to run, one them would grab me and bring me back. My only way to leave was to wait once the buyer of the Hutt Clan arrived and hope that he´s stupid enough to give me an escape window.

"What are you thinking about little Diamond?" Liam took me by surprise while holding my face, I directed my gaze to his eyes "You're not thinking of doing something stupid, right dove?" I shook my face, Liam caressed my cheek with his thumb, lightly tracing my wound “What a good little Diamond!" Liam suddenly leaned towards me and kissed my lips "Because it would be a shame to hurt this beautiful face again” even when his kiss was only a caress, it felt extremely threatening, so I took my gaze from his and out of the corner of my eye I could see how a tall man walked between the stalls near us. The man must have seen the scene that passed between me and Liam because he was walking towards us showing a false interest in some of the items in Kam's stall.

"Good sir, good morning! What interests you? Kam's parts will have what you are looking for!" the strange man, with a huge and false smile, played with some droid parts without seen Kam "I don't think your shop has what I'm looking for, scavenger" replied the man with a snap, looking around with disinterest "Of course I have what you are looking for! Just say it!" the voice of Kam was somewhat annoyed by the man's disdain "If you say so..." the man stopped playing with the pieces of the stall and advanced a little towards where Liam and I were "You will see, I´m looking for fine products of X category..." and slightly smiling he turned his gaze towards me "Not to mention sir..." whispered Kam, holding the man by the sleeve of his robe "The girl is reserved for the Hutt Clan..." Kam raised his gaze slightly to the man, while he just turned to look at him askance "The decadent Hutt Clan is more interested in spending their money on weapons than on little girls, instead I..." the man turned to see Liam with a huge smile "I can pay quite well, but if you are not interested..." he turned around and started walking away, Liam without thinking twice ran to him and grabbed his arm "Good sir, I think we can make a deal" the man looked at Liam over his shoulder and turned around "I see someone here knows how to do business".

We entered Kam's house through the door that was behind the stall and, indicating with a wave of his hand, Liam ordered me to sit in one of the chairs of the small table of the instance while offering the other of the chairs to the other man. 

For a brief moment, neither spoke, I was quite nervous about not knowing what was about to happen, so I continued rubbing my hands while my stomach began to growl. Once the three of us sat on the table, Liam lit another cigarette and registered the man with his eyes, the man just stared at me, making me feel ashamed, so I looked down and Liam took advantage of my action to break the silence "The price is 25,000 credits" the man just laughed and turned to look at him "25,000 credits for a girl with a scarred face?" and his laughter grew louder "It will be a somewhat a broken doll..." Liam reached out to grab my chin and lifted my face, fixing his gaze on me momentarily as he licked his lips "But it´s quite useful..." Liam turned to see the man with malice and a grotesque smile on his face, telling him with his eyes perfectly what he meant. The face of the man changed immediately into a rictus more stoic "I give you 15,000 credits, take it or leave it" Liam turned to see me with anger "15,000 credits!" Liam shouted getting up from the table and crashing his palms on it "You're crazy! You're wasting my time!" the man looked at Liam and without breaking the look of his face, he spat to him "It will be the best deal you can get".

A few silent minutes pass. Liam walked around the room like a locked animal, while the man didn´t take his eyes off me, for a moment he intimidated, so I chose to see another way, I needed that Liam close the deal, I needed to get out of there, I didn't want to spend another moment with him "15,000 credits..." Liam muttered under his breath "Republic Credits Chip or Coins?" interrupting his endless path Liam stood in front of the man "Coins, I don´t think the Republic Credits will be of much use to you out there" replied the man while clasping his hands on the table "It´s a deal!" and with those words, the man stood up from the table, put aside his robes and took out a sachel that he threw to the table scattering all the golden coins, coins that still had the symbol of the Empire on it.

Liam leaned over to the table, completely forgetting about me, I was disgusted to see how he pounced on money. The man circled him, approaching me, he moved closer to my ear, holding my arm and whispering "It's time for us to go". 

We left the store by the back door and walked away from the black market. All the way neither of us said something, however, from time to time I could see how he looked at me. I'm not going to lie, immediately as we left Liam behind, I was able to breathe freely again and felt my body break from a burden. We entered into the streets of  Depatar´s downtown and the man stopped at a stall to buy something. That was my time to run away, but before doing anything, the man returned to where I was and extended his hand towards me with a small box with food inside "I´m sure that you have been days without eating..." I took the box "I know perfectly well that the scavengers aren´t the best hostess” a small smile was drawn on his face and for some strange reason, his kindness made me feel like a child again and, although I didn't want to let my guard down, my intuition told me that I could trust him, this feeling was also because, since we left Kam's store, the man didn´t place his hands on me at any time "Let's find a comfortable place where we can sit down to eat, is that fine?" looking askance at me I could see how his smile was still there; I felt my cheeks flush so I looked away from him and nodded my head.

We arrive at a small space within the city with benches scattered in the shade and we take a seat. None of us spoke while we were eating, I hadn't realized how hungry I was “You know, not a long time ago, a neighboring village of my clan suffered an attack and two young boys of your age refugee among us..." the man fixed his gaze on the ground "I cannot imagine the terror that they must have experienced while fleeing from their persecutors..." then, he made a long silence while turning to see me "However, I cannot, nor do I want to think about the horrors that you would have lived at the hands of these scavengers..." I didn´t notice, but the tears had already formed in my eyes; Suddenly the man placed his hand on mine and held it tightly while still looking at me "That was why, when I saw you with them, I decided to buy you..." he took a deep breath that resonated in his chest "You have nothing to worry about, you will be safe among the members of the Scyre Clan" when I turned to see him, a huge smile crossed his entire face.

He was around his thirties, someone could tell that, in his youth, he had been a warrior because I could see some old wounds in his arms and neck "My name is Egil. What's yours?" he never took his eyes off my face or his hands from mine "I know you can speak, don't be afraid, I assure you that nothing bad will happen to you". My name? My name... For a moment in my mind crossed the memory of Tato shouting me to enter the hut for the meal, however, Mitsu had died more than a year ago in the forest of Hoth "Diamond" I whispered and the man released a slight laugh accompanied by that big smile "Very well Diamond, I´m pretty sure that Phasma and Keldo will be happy to have you at home".

What did he just say? Home? Me? The monster that put into an eternal dream the last tribe of Hoth, the beast that hid among junk to fly away and let that a nasty scavenger use her body just to get out? Did I really have a chance to return, to have a home? 

Rising from our place, Egil extended me a hand "I think it's time to return" and without hesitation, I took it. For the first time in months, my heart was beating with hope, I could feel my tears running down my cheeks, but this time they were because of happiness and a smile was painted on my face after months. I felt it again, I felt that, for some reason, there was light at the end of my dark path.

Note: I would like to especially thank @kyloren-theprince​, @thetorturerwrites​ & @kylorengarbagedump​​​ who took time to read this first part of my saga and sent me observations with all the patience in the world.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

A Royal Romance AU fanfic sequel to Protect and Serve

Bastien tells Sophia of the imminent arrival of a former lover

Word Count 3574

A/N  I’m struggling a little with this fic right now - I have plans but I will probably be posting less often - probably twice a week at most NS*W no under 18s

5 Memories of another life

Bastien snapped out of his reverie, having remembered the first time he had met Damien Nazario, when he had worked for NYPD and Bastien had been chasing Prince Leo, long before he abdicated. The last time he had seen Damien, when he had been in the city for Liam’s bachelor party, he had hinted that he had moved on from the Police department, but kept his secrets, as Bastien did with his. His call to Damien had gone straight to voicemail, so he reinforced the urgency of his message by contacting Interpol and telling them he needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

He didn’t have long to wait, as his phone rang and Damien’s number came up.

‘Bas – where are you? I’m not in New York right now. How did you find out about my new job?’

‘I needed Interpol’s services and your name came up, so naturally I contacted you direct. I trust I didn’t interrupt anything important’

‘Luckily not. What do you need Interpol for?’

‘I’m interested in tracing someone who’s fled the country’ He heard Damien chuckle

‘I’m going to have to press you, Lykel. You never told me where you’re based – or who you work for.’

‘Tell me where you are and I’ll send transport for you. Interpol have cleared you from your present job. I can explain when we meet’ There was a short silence before he answered.

‘You must really pull some weight if you can get Interpol to get you to the top of my task list. I’m in Poland.’ Bastien tapped away on his desktop computer.

‘Tell me your nearest airport and make your way there, there will be a jet waiting for you in three hours’  

‘Woah Bas, It will take me an hour just to get my stuff’

‘Soon as you can. Just go there and give your name to airport security and you’ll be pointed in the right direction’

‘Just give me a clue Lykel’

‘The flight takes two and a half to three hours. You’ll be going south.’ He rang off to call up the Royal Jet.

------

Later, as he sat eating dinner with Sophia in their quarters, he reached across the table to her.

‘Theá mou, there’s something I need to tell you’ Sophia raised her eyebrows as she put her knife and fork down, after finishing the main course. He followed suit, fixing her gaze solemnly.

‘It sounds like something important, agápe mou’ she answered, delicately wiping her lips with her napkin. He nodded

‘Come and join me on the sofa and I’ll tell you’ he replied. He went to sit on the couch and patted the seat beside him, putting his arm around her and drawing her into him, their contours matching as they always did, no matter what position they chose. He drew a deep breath ‘I had to call in someone from Interpol to help trace Justin. It turns out it’s a friend of mine – a lover…’

------

Damien climbed the stairs to his apartment in an attempt to make up for the weeks of being too busy – or too lazy – to go to the gym. The moment he got to his landing, his senses were on alert. There was something not quite right, and he paused before he opened the door into the lobby, head cocked, listening. Smelling. Oddly his acute sense of smell had gotten him out of – or rather, he had not gotten into – some dangerous situations.

But there was no scent, even though his hearing had caught a slight sound – breath, the scuff of a leather shoe on the cheap carpet?

He shook his head. He was tired, he was off his game, seeing things in the shadows that weren’t there. Something niggled at the back of his mind as he walked to his door and got his keys out. He remembered what it was a split second before someone swiftly and stealthily stepped out of the shadows and grabbed him around the neck. Instead of grabbing at his thumb to pry his arm off his neck, or stamping on his foot or pitching forward to throw his assailant, he went slack.

‘Lykel’ he said ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He heard the bass rumble of Bastien’s laugh

‘You’re getting lazy, Nazario. You knew something was up and you still left yourself open’ He let go and Damien kept his back to him for a moment, hiding the stupid relieved grin spreading across his face.

‘Yeah well, I was tired and I’d still have beat anyone else’s ass. How you manage to not smell of anything is beyond me’ He turned and gripped his forearm and slapped his elbow.

‘Trade secret’ the older man said, a bare trace of a smile at the corners of his mouth. ‘If I told you I’d have to kill you’

‘Well you can keep your damn secret if that’s the option’ he grumbled. He let go of his arm and stood looking at him dumbly

‘Well are you going to let me in, or are we going to stand here all night?’

‘Uh sorry, must be more tired than I thought’ he said as he opened the door and led him in. He was dressed smartly as usual while he himself was shabby and down at heel. He’d not had the money to refresh his wardrobe in a while. Bastien unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the peg by the door.

‘Not too tired to catch up I hope’ he smiled.

‘What brings you here?’ he asked, changing the subject ‘Pampered clients needing a babysitter?’

‘You could say that’ he replied ‘It’s a bachelor party of sorts, and I need to keep them out of trouble. I have a free evening as I’ve done all the preparation and they aren’t arriving until tomorrow’

‘So you thought you’d spend a few idle hours with me’ he smiled. Bastien’s expression softened a little.

‘Indeed. You’re not busy I hope?’

‘Not at all. I hope you get well paid for this’ he said ‘You can’t have much personal time’

‘I don’t, so let’s not waste it. Have you eaten?’ Damien shook his head ‘I was going to order pizza’ Bastien laughed and reached out to pat his soft stomach.

‘You need to look after yourself, eat properly, get some exercise. Do you actually go to the gym any more?’

‘Okay you order then’ he said, rolling his eyes ‘I know you’re going to boss me around anyway so why not start there?’ Bastien gave him a smouldering look and took his hand, pulling up his shirt and placing Damien’s hand on his washboard flat stomach. He sucked his breath in in admiration. He already knew what good care the older man took of himself, but he was in the best shape he had ever seen him.

‘Jesus, Bas you must live in the gym’

‘I never set foot in one. I train karate, go for a run every other morning, go swimming. Treadmills bore me to tears, they’re for fitness tests, not exercise.’ He pulled away and wandered into the tiny kitchenette. The whole flat would fit comfortably in his office suite at the Palace. He looked in the fridge. ‘I see you’ve not been grocery shopping either. Do you live off takeaways?’

‘Stop lecturing me, Lykel. I see you what – twice a year if I’m lucky?’ Bastien scanned the kitchen for signs of cohabitation, finding none. Damien was bridling at the intrusion despite being glad to see him. Bastien turned back to him, concern on his face.

‘If you don’t have anyone else in your life you need to look after yourself – and if you don’t look after yourself you’re not going to find anyone who wants to share your life.’

‘If you were with anyone else you’d not be visiting me, and my love life is none of your business’ Damien pointed out testily

‘But the equation balances out for me – I look after myself’

‘Whatever. Are we just going to argue semantics?’ Bastien pulled his hand over his face and sighed heavily.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue’

‘So why did you come?’ He asked defensively. Bastien winced.

‘You know how infrequently I’m here. I just wanted to see you, spend some time together’

‘Well here I am’ Damien replied. A silence descended on the two men, and Bastien broke it.

‘Well, if you’re hungry, why don’t we go out to eat? I’ll pay’ Damien thought for a moment

‘How about if I guess what sort of food you like, you pay – and if I get it wrong, I pay?’ he proposed.

‘Okay, let’s see how good your detective skills are, Nazario’ he replied

‘Well, you’re European though you’ve never told me exactly where you’re from… I’d say northern Mediterranean.’ He tapped his chin thoughtfully ‘So you’d go for – Greek, or Italian, I’m guessing’

‘You have to pick one, Mr Nazario’ he said drily ‘No cheating’

‘It’s a tough one. I pick Greek’

‘You had a fifty fifty chance – and you’re wrong, but I eat a lot of Italian food so Greek will make a nice change’ Damien shook his head in mock defeat.

‘It just so happens I know a nice little Greek restaurant not far away that owes me a favour or two, so we might just eat for free’

‘As long as it’s got its hygiene certificates’

‘Papa Megalos runs a tight ship’ Damien replied ‘I helped him out with some gangsters who were demanding protection money so we’re firm friends’

‘Okay, sounds good’ Damien nodded and picked up his keys and jacket.

------

Papa Megalos was pleased to see the New York detective and welcomed the two men in to the small restaurant, cozy and warm with red checked tablecloths, the walls and ceiling decorated with plastic grapevines, Greek music playing softly in the background. A flicker of a smile crossed Bastien’s face as if he felt at home.

‘Nazario! You honour me, come, sit – best table in the house’ Papa Megalos cried. Damien smiled.

‘You said the same last time – it was a different table’ he scolded

‘And tonight is a different night’ he shrugged ‘Who’s your friend here?’ he lifted his chin toward the other man.

‘Just a friend in the business – Papa Megalos, this is Bastien Lykel’ The rotund proprietor extended a plump hand and slapped palms with him before giving him a firm two handed handshake. Damien knew only too well how firm that was, but Bastien obviously gave as good as he got. He greeted Papa in fluent Greek, leaving Damien blinking in surprise. Papa Megalos was delighted and they held a rapid fire conversation for a minute or so, gesticulating and laughing before Bastien sat and Damien followed suit.

‘No paying tonight, and you get the house special’ Papa beamed, resting his meaty hand on Damien’s shoulder ‘I’ll get you a bottle of retsina’ Damien looked at his companion quizzically.

‘Well that’s a revelation’ he mused ‘Were you talking about me?’

‘I speak several languages fluently, Nazario. I only asked him not to reveal my country of origin – he recognised my dialect the moment I opened my mouth and we exchanged home villages’ A waiter brought a plate of mezze and olives and the two men sat and ate, sipping the aromatic retsina. After that, two plates of Pastitsio and Greek salad arrived. Bastien smiled and spoke in rapid Greek again. Damien frowned at him.

‘Next time we’re going to a tapas bar’ he grumbled ‘At least I’ll know what you’re talking about’

‘I’m sorry, I was just praising the cook and saying it’s one of my favourite dishes’ They ate in companionable silence, and when time came for dessert, Bastien leaned back and patted his stomach.

‘I’m good, but you can indulge if you like’

‘Are you the type to steal a taste?’ Damien asked sceptically. All the times they had spent together they had met at a bar and drunk until they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, like their first time. They had never eaten out, so he wasn’t sure.

‘No’ laughed Bastien ‘I eat what’s on my plate, I don’t steal’

‘How about others taking a taste from yours?’

‘I’ll share in that instance, as long as it’s not the last bite’ Damien thought for a moment.

‘I think I’ll pass, it’s too late to be overeating’

‘Good man. I recommend a glass of ouzo to settle the digestion’

‘You don’t want to go for a drink?’ Bastien made a face

‘I’d rather call it a night. Why don’t you come back to my hotel?’ he spread his hands out in a placatory gesture ‘No expectations, no presumptions, just see where the night takes us’

He looked at him intently, realising he had been avoiding his gaze for a while, not wanting to get drawn in. He recognised something in his expression that chimed with him – something they had in common due to their profession.

He was lonely. He simply wanted company, and what did it matter if they ended up in bed? Would it be so bad? Lykel must have a certain camaraderie with his men – he didn’t know the exact nature of his job but he was obviously in charge of a team. But being boss meant having to keep a certain distance. They had a lot in common although Damien wasn’t in charge of anyone else – he sometimes worked with a partner, sometimes alone, and he answered to his captain. He knew the other man had a high sex drive that he kept in check with his demanding profession. He sighed

‘Okay why not?’ Bastien smiled gratefully

‘Excellent. Should I call a cab or…’

‘This is New York, Lykel, all you have to do is step out and raise your hand’ Damien replied sardonically. They made their excuses to Papa Megalos, who insisted on giving them a box of baklava to take with them and made Bastien promise to return any time he was in New York. Damien rolled his eyes as they spoke rapidly in Greek and embraced before leaving.

The air outside was fresh and Damien was glad not to be making his way to a bar to befuddle his brain with alcohol. In seconds they were in a yellow cab and he grew wide eyed at their destination as they arrived on Fifth Avenue at the luxury Peninsula Hotel. He was speechless as the taxi swept past the front and around to the service entrance.

‘I’m sorry we can’t go in the front’ Bastien said ‘This is a covert operation after all’ he winked.

‘Covert operation?’ Damien asked ‘Are you sure you’re booked in and paid up? Am I going to be washing dishes for a month to pay it off?’ Bastien chuckled

‘Perks of the job’ he said ‘Part grateful clients, part diplomatic privilege. We get so many free reservations per year’

‘Exactly who do you work for?’ Damien asked. The older man had never offered the information and he had never asked.

‘Sorry that’s classified��� he replied ‘And if you try to find out – well, let’s say you won’t’ Damien swallowed

‘You mean my body will be found under Manhatten Bridge…’ Bastien interrupted and shook his head as they got out of the taxi and made their way to the service elevator.

‘Nothing as dramatic as that, you just won’t get anywhere if I’ve done my job properly’

‘Well that’s a relief’ They stood in silence as they made their way up, until they got out high up in the building. Bastien lead him to the stairwell and they went up another two floors.

‘Just in case’ he said, touching the side of his nose. The room they made for was only a door away from the stairwell, and Bastien produced a keycard from his jacket pocket ‘My employer’s suite is next to this, there’s a connecting door in case of emergencies, so we can take a look if you like’

The two men went into the main suite and Damien marvelled at the luxury. The huge bed was round and had a spectacular view of the city, Central Park spread out below them. The carpet was deep and pale, the en suite bathroom boasting both a sunken jacuzzi and a huge walk in shower. There was a third room that served as lounge and bar.

‘Jesus Bas’ Damien gasped ‘I know you’re not going to tell me who your employer is, but he – or she – must be loaded’ Bastien smiled and got a bottle of bourbon and two tumblers from the bar.

‘Well’ said Bastien ‘Sadly I don’t get to stay in this part – come through to my modest little cell’

The other room was bigger than Damien’s bedroom. It sported a couch and two easy chairs, and over by the window there was a desk and study chair and there was a small en suite bathroom.  The couch converted into a double bed to make it a more versatile space. It had been made up as such and Bastien’s overnight bag had already been unpacked. The two men settled into the easy chairs and Bastien poured them each a finger of bourbon. They talked easily for a while.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Damien asked, and his companion nodded

‘I’ll try to answer as long as it’s not too revealing’ Damien chewed his cheek before he spoke

‘Okay, all these times we’ve been together, you’ve never mentioned any other relationships, but I can’t see you being celibate between visits. Is there anyone special for you?’ Bastien let out his breath.

‘I’ve never really had a long term committed relationship, it doesn’t fit with the job. I have a few relationships like ours, both male and female – that I pick up while travelling. I’ve had affairs at home, but never for very long.’ He paused, about to say something else, but didn’t.

‘Okay, I get that. I’ve had a couple of relationships that I thought might last, but it’s tough when you work like we do. Do you want anything else - anything more permanent?’ Bastien chewed his lip for a moment.

‘Honestly – I’ve never seen myself as the type to settle down, I expected my job to be my life – and quite possibly my death. I saw one of my predecessors shot in front of my eyes and I know how high risk my occupation is. I don’t want a lover or partner living in fear of my demise, I couldn’t ask that of anyone’ Damien nodded and got up to walk over to the window

‘I know what you mean. Sometimes you’re one split second away from a decision that could end or save someone’s life – or your own. That’s not easy to live with.’ Bastien stood to join him by the window, putting his glass down.

‘All the more reason to live for the moment’ he said, pressing him back against the cold glass of the window and sliding the flat of his hand over his belly to the buckle of his belt.

------

Sophia looked up at Bastien

‘So Damien is coming here – to work with you on tracing Justin. Where do you stand with him? Does it affect us – our relationship?’ He smiled and kissed the top of her head

‘I just wanted to be honest with you’ he said ‘The last time I saw him I had only just met you. I can assure you that you are all I want, and I’ll tell him so when he arrives. What I had with him was just casual, a way to pass the time when I was in New York – though it wasn’t as cold as that might sound. We got on well and I hope the non sexual side of our relationship can continue - but of course that’s up to you.’ Sophia sat and thought for a while, resting her head on his chest and taking his hand in hers, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over the back of his hand.

‘I’ll have to meet him before I decide’ she said ‘I’d say any friend of yours has to be a friend of mine- but if you were lovers it changes things a little. We could have him over for dinner’

‘I suggest we go somewhere neutral’ Bastien said ‘somewhere each of us can retreat if we need to, without it being awkward’ Sophia nodded

‘Will he be staying in the Manor?’

‘I thought that best, I may need to call on him at short notice and it will be easier for him to work on site’ He tightened his arm around her shoulders. ‘If you’re uncomfortable I’m sure he’d understand’

‘Hmm, I don’t know yet. Does he know about me?’

‘No, but then he doesn’t know where I come from or who I work for’

‘Wow’ she said ‘That’s some secret to keep’

‘I never asked about specifics and he never asked me. We shared stories but kept the details vague’

‘How do you think he will react when he finds out you work for royalty?’

‘He may not be entirely surprised, I really don’t know’

‘When does he arrive?’

‘Tomorrow, early if they allow the Royal Jet to fly overnight’ Sophia slipped her hand under his shirt to find the bare flesh of his toned abdomen.

‘Then we’d better make the most of our time alone’ she murmured, and he smiled, feeling himself harden.

Next chapter 6 Meeting Up