#well perhaps it was when he was hallucinating his dad being mad at him for following a ‘false father’

[foolsocracy]

sometimes JPV and Az make me so sad i have to send Bruce out to go get another ward

[katatonicimpression]

Wild card for Monet and Shinobi! Just anything you were hoping someone would ask about them or always meant to post but didn’t, some random hc or observations, whatever!

21. Wildcard - Monet

I've actually been thinking a lot recently about her abysmal love/sex life, her lack of relationship experience and perhaps intimacy issues (partly due to those fears/dislikes prompts the other day and partly me being remined of that ship and my reaction to it) But I think that's still cooking.

I could talk about her dad? The fact that she says "it's too late" as far as their relationship goes... but since then she seems to have a better relationship with him... after he gets kidnapped.

x-factor 200ish - Mordo wants to basically eat Monet for her life force, kidnaps her dad to lure her into it. His plan is a direct deliberate parallel to what Marius did to her. He incapacitates her by making her hallucinate being penance again, which makes her go catatonic like she used to. Team turns up and helps, eventually she defeats him by promising she'll help him willingly and then using her powers to trick him.

The reason she's mad at Cartier in Gen X is that fundamentally he is prioritising Marius over her. He isn't believing his daughter when she tells him she's been abused and that's dark.

But later on, post-kidnapping, he seems to have come to understand her experiences. At least, the subtext of this line is that he has come too see what was done to her for what it was:

Also this is just a good arc for following up on her Penance-related trauma. It ties in all these elements very well, and allows her to win with her telepathy and intellect, something that Marius had previous robbed her off. Idk it's neat. It's a shame it came with the dawn of her worst outfit.

21. Wildcard - Shinobi

So, in this scene:

The classic "hey, shinobi, I won the competition, give me that ring and then let's do some sexual assault - oh stop screaming haven't you ever seen a severed head before?" scene.

now, there's a lot to love (?) here, but seeing as you've said I can say anything I want:

Shinobi lives his life on the razor's edge? Shinobi? Seriously? In what way, aside from I guess substance abuse, is Shinobi Shaw a risk taker? He mostly comes across as the opposite.

Anyway, so I hc he's into base jumping or something idk

[supernatural-bias]

Ppls reactin' to their s/o bein' a ghost? [Once again, can be anyone(s)]

━"You're back"

━Everyone

━Tw: Death, some angst

━Notes: Happy and sad times go brrrr

━Song: "Ocean Avenue" By Yellowcard

Dream

Was probably the one to kill you to be honest. It was for a personal gain, of course, so when he sees you as a ghost he takes full advantage of the clean slate he's been brought on a silver platter. Again.

George

He's already lost so much these past few years that seeing you alive (well, about as alive as you can get) nearly brings him to madness. XD most likely was the one to conjur you up; remembering how happy George was being around you. The God doesn't understand why it made George start sleeping more, rarely waking up.

Sapnap

Hugs. Hugs hugs hugs. You are never ever getting rid of this man ever again. Much like George, he's lost so many people between the wars and his fiances. But his reaction would be a lot more positive than our mushroom loving friend.

Wilbur

Is shocked. Well, about as shocked as he can be, seeing that the guys seen some weird shit. Wilbur would just laugh in disbelief, running a hand through his hard before getting to introduce you to Ranboo from the afterlife. Asks what you can remember too, curious to compare his own ghostly experience to yours.

Tommy

Would think that he's going insane. He could have swore that he'd seen you die in his arms. He remebers the pained screams you let out that haunt the boy to this day. You're just a hallucination, that's all. Yeah, he's just making this up. That's what it is...

Tubbo

Is overjoyed. Oh he can already imagine all the things the two of you can do together now that you're back! He can introduce you to Micheal (he's sure that his son would absolutely love you!) Perhaps even convince Ranboo to let you into their platonic marriage! It is good for tax benefits after all. Even if you are dead.

Ranboo

Gets so excited after seeing you that he runs into something. A tree or pole, probably. Much like Tubbo, he can't belive that you're back. Just wants to resume what things were like before your last life. Pranking, laughing, talking, just now he has to get used to the fact that you can float. Basically making the most of things while it lasts.

Technoblade

The hybrid can't take it. He swore to never speak your name again after the voices pushed him to kill you that night all those years ago. He swore to never slander your name any further. So now that you're back? Standing in front of his with open arms and a wide smile, a sword sized gash along your jugular? Well, expect to be pushed away. Whether you like it or not.

Philza

The most calm of everyone. He's already seen one of his kids be killed an then turned into a ghost, so why not another one? And we all saw how he treated Ghostbur, so you're in good hands with your still living dad :) <3

Quackity

Hides underneath everything. Puts off meeting you as long as he can, not wishing to relive the layer after layer of memories that are sure to be brought back up. Quackity hides in his office for nearly a month with scattered boxes of tissues and fist-sized hole in walls untill he's sure your visit has passed.

Karl

"Who's (Y/n)? They sound familiar."

BBH

Let's hope you want to join the eggpire! Because if not, Bad might just have to resort to other methods to make his sweet muffin see the error of their ways.

Niki

So happy! Rushes you into a big bear hug and spends the rest of the week day catching up on all of the things that you've missed out on. Even bakes you your favorite treats as a welcome back present!

Eret

Kisses all around. Face kisses, cheek kisses, neck kisses, hand kisses, hair kisses, you name it. She's just so happy to see you after all this while that they want to take as much of you in as she can.

Just stubbed my toe. Send help

-WayToSarcastic

[helliontherapscallion]

Unexpected Encounters (Adrenaline Junkie Part 8)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: minor swearing

Word count: 2,775

You walked down the now worn cobblestone path towards the main plaza of the village by Philza’s house. Whistling the first verse of the L’manberg national anthem, you wove slightly at the crowd of people gathered at the stands that littered the sides of the street. 

The village was much larger than the entire L’manberg nation. It had several different precincts with a large, diverse group of people and a few hybrids living there. It also had more amenities like shops, a library (which, to your delight, grew expansively to include more books on inventions, some being exclusively about yours. They were proud people that embraced whatever fame comes out of the area), and multiple towering office buildings.

Everything’s changed since you’ve last been here a year ago. What was now more modern used to be traditional. What was loosely populated was now bustling with people. What used to be barren was now chock full of shops and apartment complexes. It was kind of jarring to see this much change in a little over a year.

In retrospect, it was jarring how much you changed in a little over a year. The hallucinations have finally almost completely stopped along with the nightmares. They only came about once a week now. You were slowly reincorporating green back into your wardrobe. Your phantom pain has retreated into your subconscious. It was always going to be with you, so you got used to the constant pain and tingling feeling. You learned to appreciate the small things in life and just live in the moment so you would have something positive to look back on in the future.

You invented several different gadgets to help your brothers win the L’manberg War of Independence such as a portable TNT launcher, handheld long-distance communication devices (which you affectionately dubbed walkie talkies since you could walk and talk! Wilbur and Tommy were not as enthusiastic of the name as you were), and a redstone powered crossbow that continuously fired arrows until you released the trigger. Though all of your inventions were practically your babies, they did not come anywhere close to trumping your magnum opus: your metal fully functioning wing. 

After several mishaps and failed attempts, you finally made your wing correspond to the electrical impulses in your muscles so that it copied the movements of your flesh wing. It’s built out of a lightweight hollow iron and has feather shaped metal pieces protruding off from it to emulate your other wing. It was a sleek silver color that always caught a ray of sunshine and reflected it to another place. It was basically permanently attached to your body by now due to it being a pain to take on and off. It was just easier and more efficient to keep it on constantly. 

People around you stared, some in awe and some in admiration. A stark difference from when you first lost your wing. Sometimes, you resented them for treating you differently just because your name became more widely known, but you were always a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance. Even attention seeking, unscrupulous assholes looking for cheap brownie points from their peers because ‘I knew them before they were discovered! I knew them personally, we were, like, really close!’ So for now, you tried to ignore the ugly indignation bubbling in your gut and threatening to spew out in a string of hurtful words. You were sick of being angry, especially now that L’manberg is at peace. 

You passed several people who pointed at you and whispered amongst themselves. Ignoring them, you continued onward with your head held high and your wings folded in tightly to avoid children grabbing and pulling them with their grubby little hands. It always took you a while to clean and preen them after people touched them. You hated cleaning off fingerprints and grime from the smooth metal.

Walking with a sense of purpose, you continued onwards passing multiple shops and stands until you finally reached the butcher. Opening the decorated glass door, a little bell chimed alerting the burly man behind the counter of your presence. Like the others, he stared wide-eyed at you with his lips slightly parted in shock. Great, another exhausting encounter. 

Putting on a polite smile, you broke the silence of the meat shop. “Hello, I’m here to buy half a pound of fresh ground beef. Would you by chance have any in stock?” That seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“O-of course, I’ll get that for you right away.”

He disappeared into the backroom where frosty fog rolled out in tiny clouds. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe he wouldn’t ask any questions or try to get to know you on a personal level.

He returned in a hurry, slapping the wrapped beef onto the counter and giving you a price. Reaching into your wallet for the cash, you paid him generously. “Keep the change.”

“I-thank you, Mx. Minecraft.”

Putting the beef into your satchel, you gave him a more genuine smile. “Don’t mention it.”

Briskly walking out, you made a beeline for the village’s main entrance. You couldn’t stand the feeling of constantly being watched and talked about anymore. Why couldn’t they treat you like a normal person? In your opinion, you were, well, you. Nothing was special about you.

As you were about to cross the threshold of the village, you heard footsteps behind you.

“HEY! MX. MINECRAFT I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you closed your eyes and took a few steadying breaths so that you wouldn’t lash out at this person. You just wanted to go to your childhood home and have a nice, peaceful dinner with your dad. Was that too much to ask? 

Opening your eyes and plastering on a fake smile, you turned around and greeted him. He was a young boy, probably around eleven or twelve years old. His clothes and shaggy auburn hair were disheveled and he had dirt smeared on his face. “Hello, to whom may I owe the pleasure?”

He put his hands on his knees and tried to talk between gasping breaths. “Mx, my name’s Arthur Fox, i-it’s truly an honor to meet you. I’ve admired your work since before the war in L’manberg. You’re an amazing inventor and I wanna be just like you when I grow up. I- oooh I’m sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?” He kind of reminded you of Tubbo in a strange way.

“No, you’re fine Arthur. Thank you for being a fan of my work, but I must get going. I have an important meeting to attend to.” You weren’t exactly lying to the young boy. Turning on your heel, you started to walk off only to feel a hand on your arm.

“Mx, I need to talk to you.”

“I really have to get going, Arthur. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, it’s important.”

You struggled to keep the smile on your face as you shrugged his arm off as politely as you could. This kid is determined. Too determined. “So’s my meeting. I have to go.” You started to walk off into the beaten forest path.

“Do you know about The Warden?”

You halted abruptly and sharply turned around. You let your smile and polite stature drop into pursed lips and sharp eyes.

“...Of course I do. Everyone does.”

Flinching slightly, he quickly recovered his confident facade. “No, that’s not what I meant. Do you know about The Warden?”

“Like I said,” you played stupid, “everybody does. Who doesn’t?”

He puffed his cheeks out in frustration. “Ugh, how could someone so smart be so stupid at the same time? I mean you met it didn’t you? It took your wing.”

You took a step forward and narrowed your eyes, fully facing him now. “How do you know about that? Who told you?” 

He stepped back. “I-I heard rumors a couple of years back that it got someone. I heard your name thrown around here and there.”

You gave him enough of a warning that you didn’t want to talk, but he ignored it and now he has to reap the consequences. At this point, you were so tired and drained from everyone trying to be buddy-buddy with you that you finally snapped. The only thing you wanted was to go home, you did not need this right now. 

“Well, Arthur, you shouldn’t pry into other people’s business. I’ve told you time and time again that I have to leave, yet you persist to stop me. Why? And where are your parents, didn’t they teach you any manners?”

He looked downwards and fiddled with his fingers. “They’re dead. T-The Warden took someone important to me. I… I thought you might be able to help me.”

Shit, you just yelled at a grieving orphan. You were a massive asshole weren’t you? Your eyes softened slightly and you frowned. “...I’m sorry for your loss. Is there anything I could do to make it up to you? Dinner perhaps? We can talk about how I could help you afterwards.”

He glanced up at you. “But-but what about your meeting.”

You winced. “Uh, I’m moving it forward, we have more pressing matters.” You paused awkwardly. “Do… Do you have anybody to ask permission? Any siblings?”

His shoulders drooped. “...No. I’m all by myself.”

Shit, you yelled at a grieving homeless orphan? God what kind of role model were you? 

“C’mon, kid. We’re going to my house.” 

His wordlessly followed you and avoided looking into your eyes. The walk to your childhood home was very awkward, neither of you attempted starting conversation. You sighed.

“Look, Arthur I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. That was really uncalled for, I shouldn’t have yelled or gotten mad. It’s just that- The Warden’s a… touchy subject for me.”

“It’s alright, Mx. Minecraft. You can make it up to me by… making me dinner and showing me some of your blueprints?”

He looked up to you with hope filled, sparkling eyes. You snorted. “It’s a deal, kid. We’re almost there.” 

You could see the silhouette of the house in the nearly setting sun. It was still the same as when you left a year ago. 

“Ya know,” you sighed out, “this is actually my Dad’s house. I’m just visiting him for a couple of weeks.”

“Where do you live then?”

“I live in the heart of L’manberg with my brothers.”

“That’s cool…” He trailed off. You frowned, it seems that he was nervous to meet your Dad. You probably should’ve mentioned that Philza was there to him before taking him here.

You stopped, grabbing Arthur’s shoulders. “Kid, you don’t have to worry about meeting my dad. He’s probably the kindest, most genuine man I’ve ever met. He’ll welcome you with open arms, that’s what he did with me and my three brothers. He adopted us all.”

He gave you a small smile. “Alright, Mx. Minecraft, I trust you.”

“Oh, please don’t call me ‘Mx. Minecraft’, it makes me feel ancient,” you lolled your head back and dramatically groaned out, making him giggle. “I just turned twenty, buddy. Feel free to call me (y/n).”

 Putting your hand on his shoulder, you led him to the front door. You twisted the old door knob and pushed the wooden door open.

“Dad, I’m home and I brought the beef!”

He popped his head out from the kitchen, his messy blond hair flopping onto his face. He gave you a joking smile. “Took you long enough, any longer and I would’ve locked ya out.” 

You watched as his eyes wandered over to Arthur. He frowned, revealing his frilly pink apron that Wilbur got him as a joke. Oh, you could just hear the gears in his head churning.

“...(Y/n), who’s this?”

Grinning sheepishly, you replied. “Dad, this is Arthur Fox. Arthur, this is my dad Philza Minecraft. I promised him dinner and somewhere to stay for the night. Do you have some of Tommy’s old clothes Artie could borrow for the night?”

He sighed, shooting you a we’ll-talk-about-this-later look. “Yes, they’re in the attic. I’ll grab them after dinner so he could shower before going to bed.”

Arthur timidly spoke up. “Thank you, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad softened and gave him a gentle smile. “It’s no problem, Arthur. And please, call me Philza. Mr. Minecraft makes me feel old.”

Arthur let out a loud laugh. Despite everything he went through, his laugh still sounds like an innocent child’s laugh. You chuckled, kids always had a silly little laugh. Philza grinned at him, a child’s laughter was something that he missed.

Arthur wiped at his eyes as his laughter died down. “I’m sorry, (y/n) said the same outside.”

“I did,” you smiled lightly at Arthur before looking back at Philza with mischief, standing up straight and putting your hands on your hips. “But I was funnier.”

“Pft, you wish. I was saying that before you were even born. So, I win because I’ve been saying it longer.”

“Whatever ya say, old man. Funniness over age.”

He playfully glared at you, placing an offended hand over his heart. “I’m not that old.”

“Ya kinda are, Dad. You’re practically turning to dust!”

He gasped. “I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Are too!”

“Am no- wait Dad, that’s cheating!”

“You still said it though!” He sang out, grinning at you cheekily.

“No, that doesn’t count!”

Arthur’s amused brown eyes bounced between you and Philza like he was watching a tennis match. Every so often, he would giggle at something one of you said. You both took your banter to the kitchen where you and Philza started to cook. Dinner was done and the table was set in no time. There was pleasant small talk as dinner neared an end

Your dad swallowed his last bite of beef and turned his attention towards Arthur. “So Arthur, how old are you?”

Arthur gave a small grin. “I’m ten.”

“Do your paren-”

You loudly coughed, throwing a discreet glare at Philza. Mouthing ‘don’t’ from behind your hand, you took a big sip of your water and stood up. “I’ll wash all the dishes. Arthur, would you like to look at some of my blueprints while we wait for my Dad to get you some clothes?”

His eyes shined with excitement. “Yes please!”

You chuckled, putting the plates in the sink and walking down to your old workshop to grab one of the blueprints you left in a filing cabinet. You grabbed the first draft for your prosthetic and the final draft for the automatic farm.

Upstairs, you situated the blueprints in front of Arthur at the dinner table. “Okay buddy, learn to your heart’s content. I’m gonna do the dishes. If you need something just give me a shout.”

Walking into the kitchen, you filled the sink with warm soapy water and got started scrubbing. You moved your wings around subconsciously as you wiped the pots and plates clean of grease. Humming in satisfaction when you were done, you dried your hands and sat next to Arthur who was looking at your designs with complete awe. 

“You like them?”

He nodded his head so fast you thought it might fall off and started to fling questions at you. You smiled fondly at him, it was nice to see someone so interested in how your inventions were made and not just how they worked. 

You two were mid conversation when Philza walked into the room with a bundle of clothes in his arms. You grabbed Arthur’s hand and led him up to the bathroom. You bent down and rested your hands on your knees, looking at him.

“Alright buddy, everything you need is in there, clean towels are in the closet. When you’re done, I’ll be in my room just over there,” you pointed to your door. “Last door on the left. I can show you where you’ll be sleeping for the night when you’re done. Does that sound okay?”

He gave you a gap-toothed smile. “Yes, thank you (y/n)! You’re the best!”

He closed the bathroom door and you stood there. You felt… oddly fond for the boy you just met only hours before. 

Philza cleared his throat and pinned you to the wall with a stern look. “(Y/n), explain now.”

“I will, but let’s talk in my room so Arthur can shower in peace. Poor boy needs it.”

He sighed and walked into your room. You had a long talk ahead of you.

(A/N): so, how do you guys like Arthur?

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @laura--444

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 9)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, angst, fluff

Part Summary: Y/N goes to see JJ after the party and she begins to think everything will work out

Masterlist

The Pogues are gathered around the bonfire, chatting over a couple of beers and joints. JJ keeps checking his phone every few minutes, wondering why you haven't texted him yet. You agreed for him to pick you up at your house at eleven, but he wants to wait for your text saying you're home. He's considered just going over anyway, assuming you're already there since dinner would've ended at least two hours ago. Before he has the chance to even rise to his feet to go, you and Topper roll up the driveway. None of the Pogues recognize the gray BMW, except Sarah. 

“Is that Topper dropping off Y/N?” She frowns in confusion as the car comes to a steady halt at the end of the gravel drive. 

Pope presses his fingers to his temples, wide-eyed. “Am I hallucinating?” 

“Okay, enough weed for me," Kiara declares, passing the joint to John B. 

Topper stops the car and turns to you. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you nod, collecting your bag between your legs. 

“Call or text if you need me,” he instructs, still somewhat reluctant to drop you off. 

“Will do,” you offer him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow," he complies, leaning over the divider and planting a quick peck to your cheek. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” you return, granting him a kiss on the cheek as well. You climb out of Topper's car, walking toward the fire pit where JJ and everyone watch you utterly dumbfounded. “Hi guys,” you greet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“Topper knows his way around The Cut?” John B pokes fun. 

“Did he drop you off to scope out the place?” Kiara grumbles. 

“He didn’t want me driving," you explain as you take a seat next to a silent JJ. "We went to Kelce’s for a little after dinner and I’ve been drinking." 

“What a gentleman,” Sarah mumbles sarcastically. 

“Hi Baby,” JJ greets you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Hi,” you grin, leaning in and planting a kiss to his lips to which he reciprocates. 

“I could’ve picked you up,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I know," you state, parting from him for a second. "I just didn’t want to make you do the drive." 

“I’m surprised Topper let you out of the car,” Sarah snickers. 

“We came to an understanding,” you describe vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?" Kiara raises a brow. "What’s that?” 

“We’re just friends,” you reply confidently. 

“I don’t just kiss my friends goodbye...” John B mumbles under his breath. 

“We’re just friends," you reiterate, starring the boy down warningly. 

“You bet you are,” JJ agrees, pulling you into his side. “I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too," you blush, peering over to meet his gaze. 

“Movie anyone?” John B suggests suddenly rising to his feet. 

“Yes!” Sarah bursts. 

“Comedy!” Pope votes. 

“Romance!” Kiara challenges. 

“Actually," JJ sighs, standing up next to you. "I was going to head to bed, wanna come?” He asks as he glances down at you.

You hum. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired actually." 

____________________________________________

You and JJ lay in bed, facing each other as you talk about everything under the sun. You could've watched the movie considering you've been up for hours talking, not once trying to fall asleep. Yet, spending hours laying in bed, talking to JJ, is a much better pass time. 

“Fish tacos from The Wreck,” JJ answers without a moment's hesitation. 

“Ooo, you know I’ve never been there,” you confess, intrigued. 

“Really?!" JJ's eyes grow wide. "We’ll have to go ASAP! Kie’s dad makes the best hush puppies,” he dramatically gestures with his hands. 

You giggle, “sounds amazing.” 

“Okay, now your turn." JJ's arm drapes over you and rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Hmm," you hum, thinking it over. "My grandma’s chicken and dumplings. She always made it when I was sick and it’s like a warm hug.”

“Yum," he grins. “Dream vacation?”

“Anywhere with a beach,” you answer easily. “I love to travel, but I also love the ocean so can’t be too far from it. You?”

“Surfing trip around the world," he nods, clearly having thought about it before. "I’m talking Australia, Japan, Brazil, all over.”

“Surfing world tour. Very surfer Pogue of you,” you tease playfully. 

“Would a Kook Princess like to come?” He offers with a sly smirk as his eyes fall to the small space between you. 

“Sure I’ll follow,” you accept with a soft smile. 

JJ jokingly nudges you on the shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Stop," he chuckles. "If anything you pick the places and I follow. Follow you around the world.”

“You would?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smirk. 

“What’s that Carol King song?” He tries to recall and whispers some of the words. “Where you lead...”

“I will follow," you add in a sing-songy tone. 

“Anywhere!” You both say in unison to each other, causing you two to laugh. 

JJ exhales deeply, catching his breath after laughing.“Talking to you is so easy it’s scary," he confesses, taking your hand in his between you two. 

“I never felt so understood until I met you,” you tell him. 

His brows scrunch together as he watches your hands move around one another. “You don’t think Topper understands you?”

“I do... to an extent,” you shrug, not fully convinced. “He’s known me longer, so he knows why I am the way I am, but he’s not necessarily accepting of all of it.”

“What do you mean?” JJ wonders aloud.  

“If I told him that I don’t want to go to every party and rather stay in, he’d wonder why. If I said I don’t like the Club and rather spend a day on some remote island somewhere he wouldn’t relate. I could tell you that I want to move to Guam and you’d be game for it. Some days I don’t want to have any responsibilities or social obligations which confuses Topper. He’s satisfied where he is. He’s satisfied being stationary and though I’m told I have everything, I don’t want any of it." You pause, finding yourself coming to a hard conclusion. You peer up at JJ who's eyes have left your hands and pour into you. "There has to be more right? There has to be something different out there.”

“Life beyond the OBX?" He seek to clarify to which you nod. "Yeah, there’s an entire world outside of here!”

“That’s what I want..." You whisper. "Something entirely my own and somewhere where no one knows me.” 

“Maybe we should explore it together,” he smiles gently with content. “I mean, as long as it’s okay for one person to know you.” 

“You don’t count," you blush. 

JJ releases your hand, bringing his own to caress your cheek. “I want to see the world with you." 

You lean into his touch, his warmth making you feel safe, seen, and understood. “I think that can be arranged...”

JJ shakes his head, as though he's come to a profound realization. “You’re everything to me." His words slip by in a whisper as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing his statement. 

You run your fingers through JJ's hair, pulling him in deeper. He smiles against your lips, loving your reaction. He moves to hover over you, encompassing you with his body. You take matters into your own hands and press JJ down to lay down beside you. Swiftly, you move to straddle him. A grunt leaves him and you cower slightly. 

"Did I hurt you?!" You nearly panic. 

“No, no,” he’s quick to assure you, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair back. 

You hadn’t noticed when he got into bed, the bruises and cuts scattered across his torso. You remember them from the Boneyard and in the hot tub. You had thought perhaps they were from Topper. 

JJ can tell that your mind isn’t satisfied. "What else is troubling you?" He frowns. "Babe, look at me, please."

"If these weren't Topper, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it,” he scrunches his face with a shake of the head. “Don't worry, it's taken care of,” he tries to change the subject, reaching up to kiss you. 

You gasp. "Did someone do this to you?!" You quickly realize. 

"Y/N..."JJ exhales deeply. 

"JJ, I have to know!” You argue. “If someone-"

"It was my dad okay!" He confesses. 

You heart sinks has the dark reality hits you like a ton of bricks. 

"He... he gets mad sometimes..."JJ describes, looking anywhere but you. He begins to fidget with the hem of your shirt. When... When things weren’t good between us... I picked a fight with him. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I think I wanted it. At least then I could control the pain,” he explains, killing you.

You lean down and plant a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips. When you pull back, JJ stares at you, stunned by the action. You swallow hard as you slide down, keeping eye contact with him as you plant a kiss to his bruised peck. JJ’s heart begins to race as he watches you. You continue on your path to his multicolored rib. JJ’s hand brushes over the top of your head gently. Your fingers curl under the hem of his boxers as you leave a trail of kisses over his cut and bruised stomach. 

"Y/N..." He breathes heavily as his eyes fall shut. 

"Never again,” you tell him warningly as a demand. “You never go back there. Here, Kie's, Pope's, my place, anywhere else but there. Morning, noon, or night, you need a place, come to me. You hear me?"

JJ nods, too consumed in you to voice anything. 

"I see marks like these on you again, I'll kill him and they won't find the body. I've seen enough crime documentaries. I can be like Liam Nison in Taken,” you joke slightly. 

"I'm sure you could," JJ smirks, peering down at you. 

You lift yourself up to hover just above his face. You cup his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, ever! You never have to suffer alone again. I promise. Your pain is my pain. Whatever you inflict on yourself you also do on me."  

"I promise too. You're my world, Y/N,” he tells you and you know he means it. “You're my life now."

Suddenly, there's a ruckus coming from outside in the hall. The sound of the screen door slamming against the frame and shouting. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I’ll go get her! You stay here!” You hear John B yell. 

“Like I’d listen to you!” Another voice barks. 

You break from JJ, trying to listen. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” he frowns, peering over at the door. He climbs off of you and slips out of the bed. He grabs a t-shirt from the chair in the corner and pulls it over his head, his boxers still slightly exposed. 

“JJ, be careful!” You beg, worried that it could be someone looking for trouble. 

"I will, Baby. It's okay," he promises, heading toward the door to check it out. 

“Cool off Topper!” Pope shouts before you hear a bang. 

“Topper?” You mumble in disbelief, flying off the bed and toward the door.

“Y/N!" JJ grabs your wrist as you open the door. "Baby, wait!” 

Before he has the chance to stop you, you stumble into the hallway. JJ rushes out of the bedroom, nearly running into you. Standing at the end of it, in the archway of the living room, Topper turns his attention away from the Pogues. His eyes land on you and a wave of relief consumes him. 

“Y/N...” Your name falls from his parted lips faintly. 

“Topper...” You stand frozen. 

“There is almost an equal Kook to Pogue ratio in this house and I don’t like it,” Pope huffs from behind Topper. 

“I need to talk to you," the tall blonde announces urgently. 

You speed walk down the hall, despite JJ's efforts to stop you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just... I... uh...” Topper stutters, nervously avoiding your gaze, and focuses on the small floor space between you. 

“Have you been drinking again?" You question, coming to the conclusion he has. He smells of beer and weed, more than he did hours ago. "Did you go back to Kelce’s!” 

“I was losing my mind, Y/N!" He bursts, uncharacteristically, causing you to jump and JJ to step forward toward you. "I needed a distraction, but nothing was working!” Topper explains in a rush, all fidgety. “Can we just go somewhere to talk?” 

JJ immediately steps in, moving to stand between the two of you. “You’re not going anywhere with her!” 

“Oh shove it,” Topper snaps at JJ. 

“You forget you’re on my side of the island, Kook!” JJ barks, shoving Topper in the chest. 

“Enough!” You scream, pressing a palm to each of their chests. “For Pete’s sake!” 

“Back off JJ!” Kiara yells. 

“I just need to talk to you,” Topper pants. 

You exhale deeply, glancing between JJ and Topper. You know JJ won't approve and won't allow it without a fight, but you agree to speak with Topper. “Okay, let’s go outside.” 

JJ laughs, pacing around. “You can’t be serious-” 

“Ten minutes!” You shout at him, escorting Topper toward the door. 

“She sure told you,” Topper mocks JJ as he backs up to the exit. 

“Oh shut up,” you grumble, urging Topper through the doorway leading to the front yard. 

You and Topper settle down on the hammock, swinging back and forth on the edge, side by side. The sun has long since set and the lights in the large tree illuminate the yard. Unable to sit still, Topper rises from his spot and paces in front of you. 

“What’s going on Topper?” You ask worriedly. 

The boy stops, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck nervously. “I’m losing my mind, Y/N!" He finally breaks his silence. "I feel like there are weights strapped to me and I’m being pulled to the bottom of the ocean, struggling for air!” He rushes out in a pant. “I’ve been an arrogant ass and too scared to pay attention, but now I’m just scared and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you this now that I’ll never get a chance like this again!” 

You stand, taking his hands in yours. "Just take a deep breath!" 

He yanks his hands free of your hold, running his fingers through his hair as he paces away. "I'm about to be the most selfish person on the planet!" 

“Topper, just say it! It can't be that bad!" You try to reassure him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing minute. You can only assume the worst. 

“I love you!” Topper bursts out, meeting your gaze pleadingly. 

A weight lifts off your shoulder. You thought it was something bad. “That's it? I love you too,” you laugh lightly. 

“No!" He stops you. "Not the way you mean it... it’s not the same! I love you!” 

Neither of you notice the Pogues hiding in the enclosed patio, watching everything go down. 

“I knew it!” Pope announces from his spot by the window. 

“Pay up!” Kiara holds out her hand to John B. 

JJ's heart sinks when he hears the confession leave Topper. He wants to run for the hills, but he can't help but observe you stand there in shock. 

Topper's chest rises and falls rapidly. “I didn’t realize it fully until I dropped you off and saw you with him. I know what I said earlier, that I’m okay with this!" The words fly out of him like a freight train going full speed. “But I’m not! I’ve been in love with you for two years! Before Sarah, during Sarah, after her!” 

“Okay ouch...” Sarah mumbles from her spot on the patio. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I’ve just been too caught up in everything else to notice!" Topper's voice cracks with emotion. 

"You tell me this now!" You shout, growing more frustrated with each passing second. 

He sighs, "I know, I know, I'm sorry-" 

"No! You don't get to apologize!" You snap at him, utterly pissed off and frankly hurt. "You could've had me! You had me, Topper!" You correct as your eyes begin to swell with tears. "You had every opportunity to change the status quo and you didn't! You let me feel like a toy, there to satisfy you when you needed company! Yes, it was fun! Yes, it was great sex! Yes, I fed into the holding and touching, even when you and Sarah were on a break because I thought..." You swallow hard, processing what you're about to say. "Because I thought that eventually, you'd love me!" You break, tears falling down your cheeks. You finally let go of a truth you've been holding in for years now. "If I kept sleeping with you that one day you'd realize that we were more than just friends! Everyone else thought it! But you were caught up on Sarah and then it became not letting Sarah be with John B! I had to break it off after Bermuda because it was killing me! I couldn't take it anymore! I had to begin to move on!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot!" Topper rushes up to you, taking your hands in his pleadingly. "Tonight, feeling you again, I saw the rest of our lives and I want it! I don’t give a shit about our friends or golfing or the Club or Sarah because none of it matters if I don’t get to experience it with you!” He begs, “so pick me! Be with me! Love me!” 

You whimper, unsure of what to do or say. Everything is happening so fast. 

"You slept with him?" 

You turn over your shoulder to find JJ standing just a few feet away. His eyes glisten under the lights of the tree. He swallows hard, taking your silence as enough of an answer. He nods his head, pressing his lips together to hold back his emotions.

“You’re exactly as everyone says!” He yells, pointing at you aggressively. 

In a second, he's sprinting away down the gravel drive. You step forward, ready to run after him, but Topper grabs your wrist. 

"Y/N, don't!" He pleads. 

You yank your wrist free, before running him. "JJ!" You call, "JJ wait!" 

"Y/N!" Topper shouts, running after you. 

"JJ!" You beg for him to stop. 

"Y/N, wait!" Topper grunts, sprinting. 

"JJ!" You struggle to keep up with the boy. Soon, he disappears into the dark woods across the street and you have no choice but to halt, losing all hope. 

You fall to your knees on the gravel. The sound of Topper's feet hitting the gravel quickly approaching. You slam your fists to the ground with a scream, hitting your boiling point. How much is a girl expected to take? 

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

[tsukikoindreamsmp]

“'Twas Gone, Destroyed, Just a Memory...”

Well, I've heard there was a special place Where men could go emancipate The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers

Now it's the unfinished symphony 'Twas gone, destroyed, just a memory Come all and hear the final tune of L'Manberg

My L'Manberg Bye L'Manberg My LManberg Bye-

"What are you doing?"

His hand stopped only a few millimeters from the button. That voice. "Phil?" He knew that voice. Even after years since he was fresh nineteen and off to his first journey, the voice hadn't changed a bit. Does he dare to turn around? What if this is just a hallucination? It wouldn't be the first time this happens.

"Wilbur. Can you look at me?"

Damn, that voice. He can't say no to that voice. Slowly his leg shifted, turning around until he saw the man with crow wings like a cape. "Hey, Phil..."

His father looked so disappointed, frowning and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Hi."

"How did you... Why are you here?"

"Tommy called. I should've come sooner when he called Techno in the first place." That little snitch. Always sucking it up to dad. "So, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in L'Manberg?"

Phil took a step forward. In response, Wilbur took a step back. "W-Well... This is L'Manberg. It's around the area."

"Uh-huh." His blue eyes darted to the button on the wall and Wilbur stepped to cover it with his body like when he tried to hide his drawing on the wall when he was a little kid. It was useless though. Phil always found out back then, and thus he found out now. "And what is that?"

"It's a button." Wilbur tried to shrug it off.

"What does it do?"

"Well... I..." he rubbed behind his neck, almost feeling embarrassed underneath his father's gaze. "I want..." he sighed. "I was trying to make a point, like the song, you know? That there was a special place. But... But it's just a bitter memory."

He didn't even realize Phil had closed the gap between them until he felt a hand, bigger than his, grabbed his upper arm, grounding him.

"But there is the place," Phil said with a tone so gentle. "You just won it back-"

"NO!" Wilbur ripped his hand away and stepped back until he hit the wall right next to the button. "No, Phil, Phil, Phil..." He hugged his trembling self, on the verge of crying. "I've been here, like seven or eight times, and every time I was getting this close to pushing it. This is beyond saving, Phil. Techno and Tommy would always be against each other. Fundy is forever fourteen and no longer protected without the walls. Even with Tubbo as the president, he doesn't have a backbone, Phil, they'll trample over him..."

His father was way too patient with him. Even after his ranting, he still looked at him with the same gentle (but, was that guilt?) look. "And you think blowing everything up is the best solution?"

He let out a shaky breath. "I don't even know if the button still works. I can just..."

His hand moved but Phil grabbed it with both of his hands before his fingers brushed over the smooth surface. "Will... There's no need to risk it. You've fought so hard for this nation. You put everything on the line."

"Exactly." Wilbur's other hand reached Phil's, lowering them. "I can't see it anymore, Phil."

"We'll help you see-"

He shook his head. "No, no, no. I... I can't... I'm sorry." A single fell down his cheek. "It was never meant to be."

His free hand curled up and slammed the button. Before the explosion could happen, Phil had pulled him close to his chest, one hand on the back of his head, and wings stretched out like a barrier. It was a shame that he couldn't see the explosion, but hearing the bombs set off and rocks crumbled was enough to satisfy him. (Vaguely he could hear his father cried in pain for his wing got torn from the explosion.)

Once the explosion stopped, Phil turned around. "Oh, my Nether!" He felt his father's grips loosening, enough for Wilbur to push him away and saw the damage. "Will! It's all gone!"

The wall where the button once sat was gone, along with the huge chunk of the ground below them, slowly being filled by water. He could see some people landed in the water, some managed to stay away from the newly formed crater. Destruction scattered around and despair could be seen in everyone's eyes.

And Wilbur laughed, throwing his head back as a maniacal laugh escape his mouth. "MY L'MANBERG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED!" His arms stretched out wide like he owned the world, perhaps he did once. "IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS NO ONE CAN!"

Everything was ruined. He had done it. He did what he had to do. The blasted country was beyond saving. It had been lost since the people had decided to exile him. It was time to bury it in the ground.

It was time to close the curtain.

He unsheathed his sword, throwing it in front of Phil's feet. "Kill me, Phil."

"What?"

He wanted to roll his eyes when the man stepped back. He didn't recognize the look of disbelieve, the sadness in his father's eyes. Clouded in madness as he walked closer, almost giggling. "Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me!" He grabbed the sword and pressed it to Phil's hands. Why couldn't his father take the memo? "Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, end me!"

"Wil-"

"They all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, it's-"

"YOU'RE MY SON!"

If Wilbur calmed down for a second he might have noticed the desperation in his father's voice or the tearful eyes his father looked at him. If he turned to the side, he could see Tommy's hysteric cry when he drew his sword, how Techno stopped their younger brother from running toward them, how Tubbo fell to his knees with his hands covering his ears when he started screaming, how Fundy without restrain running toward them and screaming for his dad.

But he didn't. He was beyond saving. Just like his nation.

"Please, Dad," He whispered, lowering so their forehead touched. He could feel Phil flinching and trembling underneath him. "Let me rest in peace."

His final request. Surely his father would grant this right?

Phil was crying. One hand reached behind Wilbur's back pressing him close in a desperate hug, and the other held the sword with the tip pointed at him.

"PHIL!" Techno...

"WILBY!" Tommy...

"DAD!" Fundy...

He didn't scream when the sword cut through his chest. There was pain, yes, but also the sweet feeling of release. It's over. It's finally over.

"Thank you..." he whispered and he heard his father choked. "Dad..."

He fell to his knees along with Phil who was still holding him. His vision darkened but he could vaguely hear Tommy's cry even from miles away.

Ah. He made him cry. What a bad big brother he was in the end.

[isk4649]

2021/11/24 WIP Wednesday!

@a11sha11fade tagged me for WIP Wednesday! Thank you so much. I always appreciate it.

Here’s a snippet from the next chapter of my long fic, Honor and Will. I managed to finish it in time, and I’m really happy with it! It’s essentially the comfort part of hurt/comfort combo.

Looking up at the blue sky from the abyss...

Tharin had a nightmare. Or a hallucination. It had become too hard to tell those apart now. His mother, his father, Kyre, Cousin Maxwell, Uncle Otto, the murdered Venatori, and the murdered emissaries surrounded him, all pointing fingers and blaming the young man for everything that had gone wrong. A trail of destruction to attest to everything that had gone so horrifyingly wrong.

Poison coursing through mum’s veins, her body consuming itself from within. Dad’s head fuzzy, mind numbed. Blood running down Kyre’s chest, red upon his hands never washed. A green explosion to shake the world, and a void devouring Uncle Otto’s broken heart. Hollow eyes and gory tears for lives purposelessly lost. This was all Tharin’s doing. The young man did not deserve to die. He deserved to struggle and suffer forever.

When he slid out of the vision in which he felt petrified, the tears were already running. He had many regrets, that was true. But somehow, his addled brain decided to lock onto the newly burgeoning guilt he felt toward the dead emissaries of the Trevelyans. He should have forgiven them when he had the chance and forget about his vile family. Perhaps he would not have fallen so spectacularly if he had done so. He could have salvaged his relationships with the advisors. Instead, he held on to the meaningless grudge and murdered two more men.

On top of everything, the Anchor decided to act up again. It began to crackle, sputter, and hiss. Every time there was another muted burst of energy, pain radiated from his hand toward the rest of his body like a cresting wave. He clamped down on his left wrist, hoping the pain would somehow stop there. In spite of his effort, it relentlessly assaulted the rest of his body, the agony heightened every time his heart beat so carelessly.

Suddenly, he felt a warm, broad chest press against his forehead.

Tharin called out pathetically, “Cul…” In his nostrils spread the man’s scent permeating through his shirt, rendered thicker overnight. Though he felt like he was being ripped to pieces, his heart stopped thumping so hard.

By the time the Anchor calmed somewhat, Tharin was a sweaty mess with jumbled emotions. Feeling half-mad and with his forehead still firmly attached to Cullen’s chest, he chuckled hollowly. “I could really use a stiff drink right about now.”

Cullen did not loosen the hold as he denied flatly, “No.” After a deep sigh, he caressed the back of Tharin’s mussed hair. “It is really too bad pickled eggs cannot cure everything.”

Tharin burst out laughing through the new tears, and when he looked up, he saw Cullen flash a subdued grin through the purple light of daybreak. Wiping his eyes with the heel of his right hand, the young man commented, “I’m fairly sure that is just an old wives’ tale.”

The amber eyes crinkled further, and the lines grew deeper. “Well, at this point, I would do anything to help you.”

[heavenunderthemoon]

Growing Pains- Spencer Reid {Chapter 1}

This is a sequel to the prologue, I recommend checking that out!

QUANTICO

OCTOBER 2011

The coffee shop was bustling with activity, despite it being nearly six in the morning. Early risers and morning commuters in the like seemed to mob the small shop, the poor baristas doling drinks out at an impossible speed.

It was a chilly morning,Spencer's jacket collar itched at his neck and he made a grab for it in irritation, swatting the hairs that he had been meaning to cut out of the way as he did so. His curls were beginning to look a bit unruly, the case load preventing him from focusing on anything other than catching serial killers. Though, to be fair, he hardly ever focused too much on his appearance, his socks were a testament to that. The different patterns poked out of his cuffed slacks and he forced himself to look back at the board, scanning the menu even if he knew what he wanted.

Pumpkin drawn in chalk stared back at him until it was his turn to order and the baristas barely looked at him before punching in his black coffee. He didn't need any additive, at least, not from them. no, his main source of fuel was on the other side of the room, the sugar cart winking back at him. Spencer stepped back, letting the people behind him up to the counter as he waited for his freshly brewed coffee, his mind still a bit muggy without caffeination.

The lack of caffeination is what he would blame it on later that day. A mere delusion from sleep deprivation, or maybe he had even been dreaming still, falling asleep right where he stood and imagining the whole thing. He would chalk it up to any reason, any reason at all, because he couldn't have possibly heard your name.

"Y/N!" The barista called out.

The Reid's head snapped up, following the figure grabbing the coffee and his eyes trailed your back. No, that couldn't possibly be you. It couldn't be you, because, well, the last time he'd seen you was when you were both fourteen. Children, wishing upon stars and making pinky promises. The last time he had heard from you was when he was still in college, your voices tossed back in forth between the staticky phone booth's reception, and even then you both knew that your friendship was fizzling out.

He remembered quite clearly what you looked like too. Your hair had reached your back and still shoved into that dirty baseball cap that you never quite took off. That was the girl he remembered.

The back he followed left out the for and his foot twitched, as if to follow, but, had it really been you? It hadn't, Spencer reassured. It couldn't have been you. Just because they had called your name- a name he supposed other people could have, of course- didn't mean it was you. In fact, he hadn't even gotten a good look at your face. And, yes, while the hair color may have been the same, he was probably just overthinking it.

Right, that's what it was. He was overthinking it.

He always overthought things. In fact, he notoriously over thought things. He was absolutely mad if he actually thought that he saw his childhood best friend in a coffee shop, exactly 2,406.9 miles away from the last location he had seen her.

"Spencer." The barista called with a smile, extending the styrofoam cup, steam billowing from the small opening at the top. His name was written across the side in block letters, and his hand covered the lettering as he grabbed it, nodding as a thank you before retiring to the sugar station.

Y/N L/N.

Your name danced across his mind, flashes of your childhood playing almost against his will and he soon found himself lost in a memory, his feet taking him to work as he did.

-

NEVADA 1991

"Ow! Spencer, you keep stepping on my toes." Nine year old you complained, breaking apart from the boy's hold and sending him an exasperated look.

Your overalls hung loosely on your body, a hand-me-down from your brothers that didn't quite fit you yet. Your father had done his best to stitch it, but the man couldn't sew to save his life. Differently colored threads poked out in seemingly random places, and Spencer found himself staring at them from time to time.

The boy's cheeks tinted pink, his eyebrows furrowing as he stepped away, shutting off the music and going back to his book that sat propped upon the table. That morning, the two children had turned on your father's TV set. Diana didn't particularly let the boy watch it at home. On her bad days, she said the TV was a ploy from the government, destined to rot his brain and turn him against her. On her good days, she said it wasn't mentally stimulating enough, Not as mentally stimulating as a book, ushering him off with another literature classic if he requested watching something before bed. You, on the other hand, weren't given as many restrictions. besides, your father worked during the day which left you and your brothers with free rein of the house, and, with it being summertime, your brothers were both away at football camp.

A music video depicting a teenage couple had been the first channel you had landed on and, their sweet, slow dance had made you both curious about the logistics. Spencer, of course, had taken a more theoretical approach to learning the concept. Grabbing a rather large book about dance and movement from the nineteenth century, the boy had spent the better part of the day with his nose embedded in the pages, his hands flailing about every so often, as if trying it out before going back to reading. You, on the other hand, had taken to attempting the dance with the kitchen broom as Spencer read. It couldn't be that hard, could it? Besides, you couldn't really know how to do it without actually doing it. Well, that was your opinion, anyways.

After a while, you both glanced at each other from across the room, you watched the idea click onto both of your faces, both of your cheeks reddening at the thought.

"Merely experimental." Spencer had said, his voice an octave higher than it usually was.

Your cheeks still hadn't calmed, and you had fixed him with a glare, swearing him to secrecy before agreeing. You knew Spencer wouldn't ever tell, not just because he didn't particularly have anyone to tell, but because you knew the prospect of slow-dancing with his best friend embarrassed him just as much as it did you. But, he still nodded.

And that was how you had found yourself getting your toes stepped on, the music shut off as Spencer re-read his book.

"You can't learn this by reading, Spence, c'mon." Your hand tugged at his, pulling him away from the book as he huffed. Your other hand slapped the music back on, an Elvis album that was your dad's. He didn't really own anything else, and it was either that or Barry Manilow.

The boy's face was cross, as if frustrated at the concept of something not being capable of being taught from literature. Nonetheless, he followed your slow, awkward steps, focusing all his energy on not stepping on your toes. Slowly, but surely, the two of you seemed to get the hang of it, even being able to move around the room as you danced and you laughed wildly when you spun, just as the girl had done in the movies.

Spencer watched with a smile. His best friend, his only friend, but to him, the best. Because he was certain that you would be the best of the best for the rest of his life as you soon around, one hand still latched onto his own.

-

QUANTICO 2011

His tongue ached as the hot liquid ran across it.

Spencer hardly ever waited long enough to drink his coffee, the liquid scalding his mouth due to his impatience. It was small price to pay for the sweet relief caffeine gave him, the way his mind sharpened and allowed his body to catch up with his brain.

"How many cups have you had this morning, Spence?"

JJ's voice cut across the bullpen. It was one of those rare paperwork days, much to the disdain of Rossi. The man absolutely loathed paperwork, claiming that he would never stoop to such degrading tasks (though the team saw him helping out on reports when he thought they weren't looking). The blonde had previously been stopped at Emily's desk, the two chatting about their weekend plans, tones filled with hope that they might actually be able too fulfill them rather than being forced to cancel due to a case.

"Not enough, apparently. Pretty boy's been spacing out for the last hour. Actually, I think I got more done than he did." Derek teased, his eyebrows raising as he dipped his head toward the stack of forgotten papers near Spencer's outbox.

The Reid man scoffed, setting down his now empty cup. He had grown quite accustomed to the Morgan's teasing, and it never bothered him anyways. But, Spencer hated to admit that the man was correct- perhaps miracles do happen. Spencer was distracted. His mind seemed to abandon him, running off to Nevada, slow dancing with you in your childhood home's basement. Your laugh as you spun echoed in his mind and the sound of his name being called once more made him glance up.

"Spencer?" Derek fixed the man with a concerned look, his paperwork left forgotten. JJ's smile faded, Emily raising a brow as well. Rossi had gone off with Hotch somewhere, Penelope in her bat cave, but the group's effect still had Spencer trying to ice any remnants of you off his face, plastering on a small smile.

"Hmm?" He hummed in response.

JJ's eyes narrowed, scanning his face with concern. "Are you feeling okay today? You've been really quiet and...spacey." The blonde settled on the word, and Spencer did his best to assuage her. The pen in his hand twirled, his head nodding.

"I'm fine. I just thought I saw-"

The small creak of the glass doors opening caught the man's attention once more and now, three cups of coffee to back up his acclamations, Spencer was sure that he wasn't;t hallucinating now. No, not this time.

You, you, but twenty years older. You, with a neatly placed outfit, his mind flashing between the jeans you wore and the overalls he had once seen you in. You were there, in the BAU, fifty feet away, it was you. Sure, you were older, you didn't have your head shaved into a baseball cap, or dirtied sneakers on your feet, but it was you.

"Y/N?" His voice came out a whisper.

This is a part two to the prologue! I recommend checking that out!

[weasleyslag]

i’m not coming home | p.w

summary: A collection of letters between Percy and his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater following his estrangement from his family.

pairing(s): Percy Weasley/Penelope Clearwater

wc: 6.2k (lol I’m sorry)

warning(s): heavy cursing, hella toxic relationship, no happy ending

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30644294

Dear Percy,

See, I told you I would write! I really am so proud of you and your new job. I hope you’ll allow me to come visit your new apartment soon. I know you’re very busy, but maybe not too busy for me? My dad told me he’d pay for my stay in London if you invited me, but I think it’d be more fun for me to stay with you and go to a show or something. I heard there’s some good muggle performances down there, I’d be interested to see that sort of thing. It’d be an good change, I’m up to my head with wizards that think they’re so talented. 

Please tell me all you can about your job when you write back! I know it must be super under wraps, being the Junior Assistant to Fudge himself, but I would be interested in knowing the most mundane of things you can tell me, it would most certainly be more enthralling than the highlight of any of my days. I was hoping I’d be promoted to something more dignified by now, but they’ve still got me watching over some of the Ministry workers’ children. You know I like kids, but I’d rather not be a glorified babysitter. There’s not even many learning activities I can do with them, I’m pretty much instructed to do puppet shows and other silly tasks for them all day. Hopefully someone recognizes my potential soon. Maybe since you work with Fudge now, you can say something to him??? 

I hate to turn this letter sour but Fred and George have gotten into contact with me this week. They’re really worried about you. They said that they’ve all written to you and the letters are always sent back, unopened. You must know this hurts them, why don’t you at least read the letters? You know they love you and I know that you really are kind at heart; you must still have love for them. I know it must have been hard for you to hear that after all your efforts, your dad doesn’t believe you’re capable of receiving such a prestigious job on your own merits. But of course they are all paranoid, what with all that happened last Spring. I hope you can find it within yourself to be the bigger person and reconcile with your family. Maybe they’ve even apologized in their letters, you’ll never know unless you read them. Don’t read Fred’s though, he’s more mad than the rest of them. I’m sure he’s thrown every name in the book at you.

I hope my next letter will be in better spirits. I hope Hermes is doing well and I hope even more so that you will adjust to life in London well.

With Love, 

Penelope 

Dear Penelope,

I cannot express with words how excited I was to receive your owl. I hope you don’t mind that I kept her for a few days, Hermes adores her and she reminds me of you. However, I also had to keep her back because it took quite some time to give you an adequate response to everything you said in your letter.

Hermes and I are well. He hasn’t adjusted as well as I have, but I understand. The air is polluted and there’s not much room for him to roam. There’s no forests in sight, only a bunch of buildings. If I wasn’t taking your letters, I would send him back to the Burrow. He was happier there and besides, the ministry has provided me a new owl for business letters.

I, on the other hand, am doing the best I ever have been. I am extremely efficient with my work and I appear to be pleasing my superiors. In my off time, I watch live shows and read. I have been getting into some Muggle classics, like War and Peace. Their culture is quite interesting, although ours is clearly superior. I am glad I am nourishing my mind as much as I can, I only wish there wasn’t so much noise outside my apartment. Jackhammers and traffic is all l I hear all day. It gets old fast. I’m not sure if you would like it here, but I would be happy to have you if you wish to visit. Although, I thought about your proposal to stay with me and I must decline. I would love to and I am sure my hormones would have a field day, but your father wants you to stay somewhere else and merely visit me during the day, trying to trick him would be wrong. I am sorry, but rules are rules, even when it comes to you.

I will speak with Fudge about your employment. I am a bit nervous to do so but I think he likes me, so I will certainly try. You’re a very smart girl and I believe if they just took notice of how you applied yourself, they’d move you up the ranks swiftly. It would be a shame to let such an academic be reduced to a daycare worker. That seems like something my mum would do if she worked. And you certainly surpass her when it comes to brains and ambition. 

Dismayed is an understatement for how I feel knowing that my family has taken advantage of our relationship to try to shake me. I do not wish to speak to them now, I will only speak to them when they realize that I am right, which I hope won’t be much longer. You’re right, of course, I do have love for them, even Fred and George, but I can not continue a relationship with people that discount my accomplishments and constantly laugh at my expense. Reading their letters is pointless. I read the first letter I received from Charlie and although he tried to be eloquent, he still wasn’t seeing things my way. He was basically just regurgitating everything my dad had said, just in a kinder way. He and Bill have always been the most sensible so I see no point in attempting to read the other letters, they will only be worse versions of Charlie’s. I will admit that curiosity got the better of me, however. A letter from Fred came in the same day as yours. You were right, it was awful. I shouldn’t have expected anything more, however, that boy is barely literate. Here is a snippet of his abomination of a letter (I have fixed the spelling mistakes, there’s no reason to subject you to that):

“You are a massive cunt, you know that? After all mum and dad have done for you. Seriously?  I can’t even call you a prat anymore, that’s just an insult to prat’s. You’re a slag for Fudge and we all know it. If you wanted to give him a good rimming, you could have just said so instead of causing us all this grief. Well not me, I don’t give one fuck about you. You could be in a ditch tomorrow for all I care. And maybe you will be, Fudge and his friends would just as well see you there as in an office. How could you choose him over your own mother? I hope you’re happy that you make her cry every night. I hear that you get paid three times dad’s salary and you have sent home not one knut. But twats like you don’t care about their family, huh? Enjoy your cushy apartment, I hope when you open the windows, a pigeon flies in and takes a shit on your head.”

Isn’t it just terrible? And it’s all one huge paragraph too, with unbearably non-flowy sentences. He is a right idiot if he thinks I’d ever want to respond to that. And why would I want to send money to people who treat me like that, anyway? I can’t put myself into his pea brain so I guess I will never know. Please make me take your advice next time so that I won’t have to subject myself to that kind of torture.

As for what happened this Spring, I’d rather not talk about it. The Ministry says that you-know-who is not back, so I’m afraid Harry must have been lying. Perhaps he had a fever and hallucinated the whole thing. I don’t hate him, by the way. I know my family must be trying to convince you of that but it is just not true. I think he is foolish and many adults are using him as a pawn. It’s sad, really. My family has gotten so desperate that they made Hermione and Harry write me letters too. I had already been informed by Fudge himself to turn over any correspondence from Harry, so of course I did that. I do wish I had the forethought to read the letter first, I’m very curious about it now, but oh well.

I care for you very much and hope we can arrange a visit soon.

With Even More Love,

 Percy

Dear Percy, 

I was hoping this letter would be more positive than the ones we have exchanged lately and that perhaps we could even arrange my trips to London, but I have gotten some terrible news. And I will not believe it until you confirm it.

There is a nasty rumour going around that you are to be court scribe for the Wizengamot in Harry’s trial. Say it isn’t true, Percy! I know it’s such an honor to work so closely with the Wizengamot, you’d be the youngest person in all of history to work as a scribe for them. But at what cost? Harry is your friend. I’ve been spending more and more time with your family and I consider Harry to be a friend now, too. I know the details of the case, and I’m sure you must since you’re apparently working it. Even if you don’t care for him, you must understand that objectively, Harry is in the right, at least morally. He was saving his cousin. The cousin that he grew up with and besides the kid being an absolute terror, he was basically his brother. Wouldn’t you cast magic to save your brothers or sister? How can you work for a case like that when you know you’d do the same as Harry?

I love you, I really do, and that’s why this breaks my heart so much. You’re turning into something that you aren’t for the sake of ambition. Please don’t do this. Come home and if Fudge truly does value you as much as you think, he will continue working with you even after you are on good terms with your family again. You must be missing them, aren’t you?

I will have to postpone the trip to London until you get all this figured out. I hope you understand. I am always open for you to come back here to visit me. We could all meet for dinner at the Burrow, where you belong.

I don’t have much else to say. I’m scared about what’s happening in the world and I’m nervous for you. I miss you, but I’m not sure if the you I miss is still you.

P.S: Tell Hermes I love him.

xxxx,

Penelope 

Dear Penelope, 

You have heard right, at least about the Wizengamot. I beg of you not to let my family poison your mind. Clearly, they want everyone to think I’m a terrible person. If they had it their way, we wouldn’t even be together right now. It’s not their fault, really, they suffer from cognitive dissonance, but they only think with their heart. That’s not sustainable and most certainly not how the world works. The court specifically wants me to be scribe and like you acknowledged, that is a huge honor. This is really going to help me get ahead even further. You know I have big dreams. I’d like to be the Minister one day and having all this under my belt would be a big help.

I really am not allowed to be discussing the case with the public, but I suppose I will make a tiny exception for you. I can’t help but have a soft spot for you; I musn’t make bending the rules for you a habit. You’re lucky I’m even physically able to say anything. The Ministry is heavily monitoring all the mail that comes in and out from high ranking members, but they haven’t done that with me yet (as far as I know, at least). I guess it must be because I’ve been so loyal and I won’t even receive my family’s letters, so they trust me. Little do they know that I have a weakness for you. 

As of right now, I’m not too worried about Harry (of course, they might change when court is in session and I get all the details). I think his case makes sense. I’ve poured through court cases similar to this one, although the defendants were never as much of a public figurehead as Harry (but that shouldn’t matter, the Wizengamot is totally unbiased and will not take Harry’s fame into account when deciding a verdict), and every court case similar to this ended in a not guilty verdict. I am not sitting as a court scribe to try to lock Harry away, it’s just my job. I don’t approve of him, but let’s not pretend like I never want him to see the light of day again. Anyway, I was surprised that someone that possesses your caliber of intelligence relied so hard on pathos to convince me that being a court scribe is wrong. Everyone knows emotion is a flimsy argument and certainly has no place in the courtroom. The fact that he saved a muggle’s life will definitely be brought up in court, but it won’t be because it’s someone he cares for. It’ll be because we have all sorts of laws about self defense and protecting each other, even a few about protecting muggles. I fear you might not have a place high up in the ministry if you continue preferring pathos to logos. And anyway, you trying to my emotion by bringing up my family makes no sense. My family are wizards, so if it came down to it, I could protect them and it wouldn’t be against the law. It’s not my fault that my family is better than those Dursley’s. 

I really must beg of you to stay away from my family and especially from Harry. That will probably not end well for you. Do not mistake that for a threat, I’d never hurt you, but I’m being realistic. Harry is off the rails and my family blindly believes him. In my opinion, Harry needs to be in a mental hospital, not roaming around as a public figure where everyone hangs on to his every word. He clearly suffers from PTSD after all he went through as a child between his parents being murdered in front him, a very powerful dark wizard trying to to murder him, and the muggle abuse he endured. And that’s not even mentioning all the pressure the world, especially Dumbledore, has put on him. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just insane. If the adults around him cared as much as they say they do, they’d put him away for a while until he can heal. But they won’t, that’s the problem. And now I hear that little Ginny is in love with him. I have never in my life been so in despair. I can’t help but think how bleak her future will be. Maybe I should write a letter to her. I doubt she’ll listen, but I do need to try. 

I really do hope you decide to come visit me. Maybe I can speak with your father and come to an honest agreement about you living with me soon enough. I am really lonely here and I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. It seems my family and I will never get along again and I have no one else besides you. I have all this extra income so I think it might be practical for me to marry you. Then, you wouldn’t have to hear all this rubbish from my family in order to feel close with me. I will speak with him about it soon. It’s not really all that bad here and even if you’re not good enough to have a real job in the Ministry, that’s okay. I make enough money and I do want a lot of kids anyway. It wouldn’t be practical for you to have a demanding long term job.

Love, 

Percy

Percy, 

Maybe I am a sensitive fool but I found much of your letter to be highly offensive. You essentially called me unintelligent throughout the letter, then didn’t ask but rather told me that you would be marrying me (only caring about what my father would say, not me). And to top it all off, you told me I was to be your personal incubator while you get to have an actual job. It’s insulting, really. What if I don’t want to do that, did you even consider that? I care for you and I believe I always will but I am not in a place right now where I fancy marrying you. I think I’d rather tie the knot with one of twins or Charlie. Besides, I felt unsettling how you alluded to muggles being lesser beings. They most certainly are not, they’re just different than us. I don’t know how I can be with someone that sees a whole group of people as lesser than them.

I must not have too much respect for myself. After all, I felt all those things that I wrote in the first paragraph, yet I’m still writing to you. What terrible damage love can have to the brain. I think I know how this whole thing will turn out, yet I still hope against my better judgement that we will end up together. I will try to put this past me if you can promise to not be so cruel.

Things are the same as always in my life. Spending most of the time with Mother and Father and the rest tending to children. I think I might die of boredom. I have been thinking about becoming a Hogwarts teacher, at least it would be less degrading than playing babysitter for a bunch of toddlers. Curiously enough, I received a letter from Snape about receiving a position, not Flitwick. He liked me well enough back in school, but I definitely didn’t think he would ever think about contacting me for a teaching role. I didn’t think he ever thought much about any student that wasn’t a Slytherin. I think maybe he sees himself in me. You know I was treated pretty horribly throughout school and something tells me he might have gone through a similar experience. That aside, however, he wrote me a letter requesting my presence to a meeting in a few weeks. It’s a meeting with all the current teachers, so I’m quite nervous about it. They want to speak with me about a new class, I think, it wasn’t any sort of curriculum I was familiar with. Still, I’m heavily considering it. It would be a big step up. I am a little worried about moving out there, but I think I’ll be alright. 

I know you act like you don’t care about how your family is doing, but that’s all it is, an act. So I will at least tell you the good parts. I’m sure you’ve seen by the addresses of the letters that they’re still sending you (because they care), they have moved. The Order has been restored, we’d all love to have you there, although I don’t have much hope that you would consider joining. Even Charlie and Bill have come back and joined. They miss you and I think they’re more than a little disappointed. Ginny is dating a kid named Michael Corner, not Harry. I’m sure you’re over the moon about that. Ron and Hermione have become prefects. That’s really good news, yeah? I’m not quite sure how Ron snagged it, but he did.

I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about any more conflict with you, so I won’t even bring up what you said at Harry’s trial. Just know I’m disappointed. What, I will say, however, is that it was so cruel that you didn’t even speak with your own father once court ended. I know you knew he was there. Look, I have a really bad feeling about the future and I can’t help but fear that something bad is going to happen and you’re going to regret being such an ass to them. 

This letter was all over the place, I apologize. I just have all these emotions and you don’t seem to understand. Or if you do understand, you don’t care. I don’t know which is worse.

Take care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope, 

I apologize for my behavior in my last letter. You’re right, I was only thinking of myself. I’ve just been by myself so much that I guess I find it hard to think about what other people want. I hope you can forgive me. Truly though, I think we could reconcile easier if you met me out in London. Of course only corresponding through letters has led to a strain. 

Please brace yourself, because I know if you do not prepare for what I’m about to tell you, you will be very mad at me. I consulted with Fudge and we have decided that you shouldn’t become a teacher at Hogwarts. It’s not a good look for me and it’s safe for you. Dumbledore is off his rocker, I’m not going to allow you to be put in harm's way. Fudge has sent a letter to Hogwarts, strongly suggesting that they find a new candidate for their position. I agree that the role is important, kids need to learn, and you would have been a great teacher. But it’s not the right time for you. I know you will probably be royally pissed for a while, but you’ll get over it. I did it for your own good. I hope you will be happy to hear that I have talked to Fudge about you having a proper job in the Ministry and he agrees. He will be writing to you with an offer soon enough. All’s well that ends well, you get a safer, higher paying job. And you can be near me!

Yes, I knew that my family had moved. I hope they move back soon, it’s not safe for them there. You’re right, someone is going to get hurt. I can feel it in my bones. And of course I will be utterly inconsolable, but it will not be my fault if something happens. It will be Dumbledore’s and inadvertently, Harry’s. I would love to give my family advice, but I know they will not listen. Therefore, there’s no point in writing letters. Besides, even if I did want to write to them, I think Fudge would catch on and have someone start monitoring my mail. I trust the Ministry completely, but I still find it’s in my family’s best interests if the Ministry doesn’t know their exact going on’s.

I heard Ron became prefect. I’m very proud. I wrote him a letter, which the Ministry read (and unfortunately a few unkind edits to, but I’m sure it was for good reason), congratulating him. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s received it. He hasn’t written back. Maybe Dumbledore has started screening letters? I’m proud of Hermione too, although I didn’t write her a letter. You seem to speak with the lot of them often, so please send her my congratulations. She’s such a smart and sweet girl, she’s a good match for Ron (I can tell he likes her). I would have preferred a Pureblood but oh well, she’s better than most muggles. Oh and speaking of people dating, yes I am very pleased that Ginny has found a nice guy that’s not Harry. 

Love, 

Percy

Percy, 

Before I write anything else, I must address your hilarious claim that Dumbledore is monitoring letters. Ron got your letter, read it, then proceeded to burn it. He found it very offensive. He’s not happy with you, so maybe don’t send him more letters.

Fred and George are still mad, more than everyone else. George invited me out last week, I think only because he knew it would get a rise out of you. Fred’s the maddest of them all, as you know so well from his letters, but he’s with Angelina Johnson, so he couldn’t take me on the “jealousy date”. I don’t really fancy George, don’t worry, and I don’t think he fancies me. I must admit, however, that it was a nice time. It was a welcome change to listen to someone talk to me about their interests instead of being obsessed with a job. It was even more welcome that he asked me questions back and seemed to actually care about my responses. My favorite thing, though, was going out with someone that cared so much for their family. Someone that not only understood romantic love, but also platonic and familial love. I’d been missing that part of you for a while. But like I said, I don’t fancy him. I didn’t even let him kiss me. I feel guilty about it all, of course, I’d like to come down to London and try to get things in our relationship to run smoothly again. 

Also, yes, I am very upset that you had that letter written to Hogwarts. You totally crossed a line and if I had any balls, I would have broken up with you over it. But alas, I really do want to make it work. This is another thing that I think we need to work on together. In London. Please tell me your thoughts.

With care,

 Penelope

Dear Penelope,

Literally, what the fuck? I saw red when I read your letter. You. Went. Out. On. A. Date. With. My. Brother? And the little traitor tried to kiss you? I had half a mind to challenge him to a duel. But you’re right, he’s just trying to get me to act out and he will not get that out of me. There are so many problems with our relationship right now and I cannot bear to let you go, so we must meet and work things out immediately. And I’m not coming home, so you must come here. I’ve taken a week off at the Ministry, please arrive here as soon as you receive this letter. I will not be bested by the likes of George Weasley and a few other misunderstandings I may have thrown your way. 

No need to write back,

Percy

Dear Percy, 

I am so glad we had that meeting in London! I really do feel like we’ve fixed things. It makes me so happy that you have agreed not to be so unkind with your words in the future. And as promised, I have decreased contact with your family and all the other members of the Order. George has written me about a dozen letters since then, checking up on me and filling me in on what’s going on with your family. But as promised, I have not written back. If I expect you to uphold your part of the agreement, I must hold myself to the same standard.

I think I will take that secretary job Fudge offered me. It’s not all that you made it out to be, but at least I can be near you. I’m still too wary to marry you, after all it hasn’t been too long since we were falling apart, but I think it would be nice to be physically closer to you. I’ll see what I can do in terms of flats, since you’re too prudish to lend me room in yours.

Love you lots,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I don’t have much time to write at the moment, I’m very busy, so please excuse the short letter. I, too, am glad we are doing better. It was impacting my efficiency at work and I could not have that. I’m just glad there’s no more Fred and George, they were trying to hijack your mind and make it theirs. Besides, I have heard from more than one female that has come into contact with them, that they are basically a pair of incubi. I know you think I’m dramatic when I say that, but those two boys have turned evil, I know it. I should have seen the clear signs. It was so obvious from the time that they were little boys, chasing poor Ron with spiders.

Thank Godric that you are coming to join me at the Ministry! I can keep a close eye on you there, make sure you’re safe. I know the job isn’t glorious, but not everyone is as fortunate as me. You have to work your way up. I know you’ll have a very important job in no time. And I never said I wouldn’t let you live with me by the way, I said that I didn’t want your father to become cross with me. You really shouldn’t call me a prude, or do you not remember what all went in London when you came to visit? I didn’t think it was quite that forgettable, but I’ll just have to remind you when you move here.

Love, 

Percy

Dear Percy,

I’m sorry for the distance between letters. I meant to write, I really did, but everything went to shit here. I know I said I would distance myself from your family, but George wrote to me and said that your father is in the hospital. So now I’m back to semi-living with them. Did you not read your mother’s letter about it, Percy? She marked it “urgent” on the envelope. Your father was utterly distressed that you didn’t even write, much less visit him. It made his recovery harder and longer. Don’t you still care even a little bit? What if he had passed, wouldn’t you have felt so guilty?

Also, your mother collapsed and fell into a fit of tears when you sent your Christmas jumper back. Why didn’t you just keep it? It would have spared her feelings, even if you think you’re too good for the sweaters now. She made me a sweater, I loved it. But oh well, please think about the repercussions of your actions on others. You’re making it very hard on all of us. Also, Fred wants me to let you know that he wants to bring back drawing and quartering just for you. George is more straight to the point, vowing to castrate you if you two ever cross paths again (by the way, they both thought your incubus comment was very funny, I think it inflated their ego).

I know you are on the Ministry’s side, saying that Voldemort is NOT back, which is horseshit and you know it. But you do know who attacked your father, yes? Surely that should be enough proof for you. You’re very smart, why are you letting an institution think for you?

With peace and love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope, 

I am slightly dismayed that you didn’t keep up with your end of our agreement, going back to speak with my family. I do understand, though, my father’s attack was a shock and could have ended tragically. I know he’s better now, though, so please cease contact again. 

On a similar note, yes, I did read Mum’s letter and know that he was in the hospital. I sent flowers anonymously, if that means anything to you. And I kept tabs on him from the Ministry. If I felt that things were going downhill and he wasn’t going to make it, I would have visited. But he was fine, so it’s not a big deal. Maybe he will learn to not poke his head where it doesn’t need poking from now on.

As for the sweater, it’s not that I didn’t want to keep it. I love her sweaters, I wear some of the old one sometimes. But keeping the sweater would have sent a completely wrong message and given her false hope. So really, sending it back was a selfless act.

I know you want me to say that You-Know-Who is back. But you just don’t understand. I represent the Ministry now. What they say goes. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own thoughts, it simply means that I stand with them.

Just wanted to remind you that you’re very beautiful and I miss your kind heart. I can’t wait for you to move here.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

I am most certainly NOT moving to be with you in London after the stunt you pulled. Betraying Dumbledore and holding Harry in place whilst being questioned by Fudge? What a dick move. I don’t know what I expected, you provided me all the warning signs. I guess that when it mattered, you’d do the right thing. Now I see how wrong I was. I need some time to myself, and you need to think over in your heart why you thought it was okay to do what you did. You just better be glad that Fudge sent you out before you got smacked the fuck up by Dumbledore.

From the top of my head to the bottom of my toes, fuck you

Penelope

Dear Penelope, 

This is the fifth letter I’ve sent to you in a row with no response, please answer. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed, really I am, but I’ve dug myself too deep. I miss you, I miss Ginny, I miss Charlie, I miss Bill, I miss Ron, I miss Mum and Dad. I even miss Fred and George. But it’s too late. I wish I had seen it before. They were right, you were right. I can’t let them know that. I feel so ashamed. I want to help them, but I also want to never bother them again. I saw You-Know-Who in the Ministry. I know all along that he was back, but I kept denying it for my job. But now I don’t have my family and I don’t have you, so my job is all I have. Please know that anything you see from me from this moment forward doesn’t represent my heart. You’re right, I don’t remember how many letters ago it was, but you said I wasn’t the person you fell in love with. You couldn’t have hit the nail on the head any better. There’s barely any left of that Percy, just his shell. So really, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all. I’m not the person you committed to. But I still love you. It’s total wishful thinking that I can have you back, but hoping is the only thing that keeps me from going insane. Bill wrote me a letter saying that he was engaged. I don’t want to face my family but I’ll go if I can see you.

Love, Percy

Percy, 

I felt like I should write you one last letter because despite myself, I still care. I want to give you closure. It’s clear to me that you’re never coming home, which is clear symbolism that you are never going to do the right thing. You said it yourself in your letters, you’re digging your heels in and standing by the ministry. You’re a filthy coward. 

Yes, Bill is getting married in a few months. We’re all very busy with preparations, it seems like that’s the only good thing that’s happening around here. You have an invitation, of course, but you shouldn’t come if you just want to see me. If I see you, I will make a scene and there will be more than just mashed parsnips being thrown at you (yes, Fred and George told me about how you visited just for the benefit of the Ministry. It’s pathetic, really). Your mum is convinced you will show up to the wedding and everything will be magically better. I know you better than that. I wish I was in blissful ignorance and thought you still loved us all, but you don’t. You’re not going to be able to get your head out of your ass until it’s one of us that’s laying lifeless somewhere because of the monsters of people that the Ministry have allowed to roam for so long. I know where you stand and you know where I stand. So there’s nothing else to say.

I’m sending back all the things of yours that I have. You should receive them all with this letter. Please write back if I missed anything.

Sincerely, 

Penelope Clearwater

[bindi-the-skunk]

I hope I’m not boring everyone with these...

I'm on a role with these theories

This one came to me when I was trying to sleep thinking about my "serial!killerAU" I want to write...and it hit me, what if, in the comic that is, Roberts DAD takes on the original Lanyon role? Going mad and dying after discovering the secret?

Robert seems to be made out of tougher stuff than THAT, but his dad is old and stuck in his ways, so him not being able to process the transformation is possible.

Robert is taking on more of an Utterson role here...actually doing shit that is to help, well his dad basically just bitches up to this point, I don't think the author would set up this romance sub-plot going for them only to have Robert die in such a pathetic manner without resolving anything.

And (going to get DARK here just a prior warning)

Perhaps Frankenstein will take on the Carew role as the one who is murdered...but by full out red-eyed Jekyll in a fit of temper (remember him breaking the wine bottle against the table? Now imagine if that table was someone's HEAD...) Simple fact he is going slowly bonkers (no sleep, the hallucinations, his lodgers abandoning him, Hyde stealing their body and doing God knows what to it with his antics with not changing back when he is supposed to) so when he does finally get back to the real world, I do not think things will just be find and dandy for him mentally, one more push...and he is going to SNAP.

[jessicajonesrp]

Family reunion

Jessica, texting Luke: who the hell let a Phillip Jones in the building

Jessica: if it’s Trish she’s way more fucking blonde than I thought

 Luke texting back: Que? What the heck are you talking about woman and since when did I become your doorman?

Jessica: PHILLIP JONES FUCK HELLOOOO

 Luke not having a clue what’s going on just calls her.

 “What are you talking about, am I suppose to know this person?? Seriously how am I supposed to know what the hell you’re talking about Jessica?”

 Jessica is talking very rapidly, her breaths shallow as she answers, pacing back and forth.

 “My fucking brother, that’s who. The one dead 16 years now? Only not because he just left my office. Probably he did anyway, since I opened the window and jumped out of it after my whole fucking world imploded.”

 “Oh your brother….Ooohh your dead brother?? Now your insane rantings make sense now..Shit Jessica I’m at a lost of words right now..What are you going to do?”

 Jessica laughs, but it sounds far from humorous. “I don’t fucking know, I kinda just freaked out and bolted. It isn’t a ghost, and it was him, as soon as he said it I could tell it was. They said he was dead, why the fuck would they tell me that, and where the fuck has he been all this time?”

 “Wait backup, you jumped out your window? And why would someone lie about him being dead? I think I have as many questions as you do.“

  Jessica is still pacing the rooftop. “I mean, it was open already. The window. I dont know, but I’m definitely awake right? This is real? This isn’t….I don’t, another fucking hallucination thing?”

 “Well I don’t know baby, how about you go back and crazy thinking here..Talk to him! Make sure he’s not some crazy fanboy..Do your detective thing..Get his fingerprints and some DNA, if he’s telling the truth, he shouldn’t object to proving it. I’ll wrap up things here and come to your office..And if he’s a nut, let’s just be happy you didn’t work from home today.”

 “Whatever, you don’t have to,” Jessica muttered, exhaling. “I got it. I’ll go back and see if he’s still there. Hell, if he really is Phillip, he’s waited sixteen years to show himself, he can wait ten minutes for me.”

 “You sure? Cause twenty…thirty minutes top and I could be there..I’m mean if you got family out there I’d like to meet them.” Looking down at his desk at the pile of boring papers. “Honestly I could use the break, I’m sooooo damn bored! We should have stayed on our honeymoon longer.”

 Jessica huffed another breath, shaking her hair back from her face. “I’m stopping by the liquor store first, then I’ll go back. I mean…I guess it could be a trick, or some of my crazy head games with myself. But.. What if it isn’t? He looks like him. Like He would have looked.”

 “Come on Jessica if it is your brother do you really want his first impression of you as a person that jumped out her own office window and his second you’re drunk off your ass, Look I’ll bring home a bottle of the good stuff but go back a face him with your wits intact.”

8

It was a good point. Fuck it, why did Luke always have to talk logic when Jessica was ready to run away and shove aside anything that tried to stop her or make her feel?

 “Well, it wouldn’t be all that surprising to him, since his last impression of me before showing up on my doorstop was how I caused the accident that killed our parents because I wouldn’t let him have a fucking video game,” she muttered, and damn if her eyes aren’t getting a little wet.

 It’s something that she’s always harbored, and never voiced aloud before, that it is her belief that she is the reason that her family had died. She had been too selfish, too loud, too much of a bitch, she hadn’t shared with her little brother and had made her father angry, she was the reason he took his eyes off the road. If it wasn’t for her, it never would have happened, her family would still be alive.

 She had always pushed those beliefs far down; Dorothy certainly hadn’t encouraged her to talk about her family, and Trish had always been so tentative around the subject, not wanting to hurt or anger her, that it had become far too easy to blank out memories or feelings about them for someone already inclined to repress anything too painful. Now, the possibility was presenting itself that for all these years, she had actually had a little brother out there, orphaned because of her, needing her, maybe not knowing what had happened to her. Or had he? Had he known all along that his sister had been adopted by a celebrity, while he was left behind, and she was told that he was dead?

 “Fucking Dorothy,” Jessica muttered, more to herself than to Luke, because whatever had happened all these years to her brother, she was almost sure Dorothy Walker’s hand was somewhere in the mix. In response to Luke, she said begrudgingly, “Fine, I’m going back. I’ll show up sober, but no promises I’ll stay that way once I’m there.”

 Hanging up, she ran a shaking hand over her face, fighting to slow the escalation of her breathing. She manages to stave off enough anxiety to avoid a panic attack, even as memories flicker through her mind. Waking up at fifteen in the hospital bed, frightened, in pain, wanting nothing more than to see her parents’ face, only to overhear the angry voice of teenaged Trish, blurting out that all of her family is dead. Asking about funerals, about memorials or any sort of service she could take part in, only to be told that those had already taken place, that she had missed them all, and there was not so much gravestones for her to visit instead. Picturing her family cremated, as Dorothy had so blithely told her, decimated into pieces small enough that they would all together fit in a small box or vase.

 If Phillip was alive, then whose body had they cremated? Or was even that a lie? Were her parents still alive out there somewhere too?

 Hope mingled with dread as Jessica started jumping rooftops, making her way back to her office building’s. She swung herself back down inside the open window, unsure whether she was relieved or not when she saw immediately that the man who had introduced himself as her brother was still present inside, now sitting somewhat uncomfortably on her beaten couch.

 “I figured you had to come back some time,” he muttered, not acknowledging the fact that her rather nontraditional entrance through the window. After her exit out of it, perhaps he expected that she preferred using it to doors. “Even if you do run your own business, you’ve gotta touch base at office eventually.”

 Jessica didn’t move any closer towards him, even when he stood, angling his body to face hers. Leaning back against the window, as though prepared to make another hasty exit if needed, she crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him.

 “So you’re my brother,” she said flatly, eyes looking towards his forehead, rather than the hazel eyes that so closely matched her own. “Prove it.”

 “What do you want, my birth certificate, my DNA?” Phillip shrugged, sounding unsurprised. “I could get both or either. Mouth swabs can do the trick these days. But I’m guessing you’re wanting words. Well, let’s see, my middle name is Brian, after Dad, but I guess anyone could look that one up. Your middle name is Campbell, after Mom’s maiden name. I know anyone could look that one up too, but what they couldn’t look up is you used to hate it, because I would call you Campbell soup, to the point that you wouldn’t eat any kind of soup at all, even if it wasn’t actually Campbell brand.”

 Jessica’s eyes widened, and she tried to cover her shock by pressing her lips together in a thin line. Phillip wasn’t finished. He seemed to actually enjoy throwing some of the old, mostly forgotten information about her long ago history back towards her.

 “Hm, you used to watch Xena the Warrior Princess a lot, you wanted to dress like her for Halloween but Dad didn’t want you wearing the skimpy costume, so you were a ninja turtle instead. I think that was when you were maybe eleven? You lost a tooth when you were nine on the playground because you were trying to do a full flip on the monkey bars and bashed your mouth against a bar instead. I was crying, scared because of all the blood, but you didn’t even cry. You were just mad because Mom made us leave and wouldn’t let you try again.”

 Jessica couldn’t speak. She tried, but her throat was closed up, and she couldn’t seem to form words or thoughts. Everything Phillip was recounting was true, memories she hadn’t touched in nearly two decades, and as they flooded back vividly, she stood frozen between pain and hope.

 “Uh…oh, you had some troll dolls, and I hated them, because their eyes and those weird little jewels in their belly buttons glowed in the dark. So of course, you used to sneak them into my room and hide them in my bed or in a dresser drawer or something, just to make me scream. And of course, I did my part by waking you up when you were a teenager by burping or farting in your face, then running for my life.”

 Phillip chuckled slightly, then intensified the easy, laidback tone of his voice, taking a slow step forward. “Take the DNA test if you want, Jessica, but you have to know it’s me. Don’t you.”

 And she did. She knew before he said any of it, knew as soon as he identified himself aloud the first time. This was her brother. Her brother….alive.

 “You’re not dead,” she said aloud, her voice small and dry. “They said you were dead.”

 Phillip shrugged, one side of his mouth tipping up in a smirk, very similar to one Jessica’s own face often showed.

 “Guess news of my demise was greatly exaggerated then.” More seriously, he said, “Technically, I guess I did die, they had to shock me back a few times, or so I hear. But in the long run, I survived. And I’m here. I wanted to see you, Jessie. Once I could find you, and get to you….I wanted to see my sister.”

 Jessie. The name sounded different in his mouth than it did in Dorothy’s, or any of the other people who insisted on saying it and whom Jessica refused to accept it from. She had thought the only three people allowed to call her by her childhood name were long gone, and the privilege to do so gone with them. But this man, this person with her brother’s features on a grown man’s face, called her Jessie so easily and naturally, and it sounded right.

  In a few jerky steps Jessica came forward, putting her arms around Phillip in an awkward but intense embrace. They had been fifteen and ten the last time they saw each other, and their relationship ship been far from one that showed physical affection; any physical contact with each other generally involved pinching, slaps, and shoves. It felt strange and strained to touch someone so familiar and yet so unknown, but as Phillip put his arms around her in return, with almost equal levels of awkwardness, his responding lack of ease only intensified her knowledge that he was the real deal.

 “Ease up, Jess,” he said lightly, flinching slightly. “Not all of us have super strength.”

 When Jessica jerked back, eyeing him, he shrugged at her. “What, how else do you think I found you? You were on the news constantly after that mind control guy, and everyone going crazy trying to kill each other. And then Dowling Investigations ads, it might be Trish Walker’s face, but she says your name and your title, and everyone in the world with any sort of TV or radio access knows you’re her adopted sister. Yeah, there are like, a million Jessica Joneses, and I didn’t know if you’d stay in New York or not earlier, but once the mind control guy happened, and Trish talking about you on her show, it wasn’t that hard to find you. I just…kind of took a while to get up the balls to actually go to you.”

 He shrugged again, giving her a somewhat self conscious smile. “I guess now that we’re here, we have to get to know each other all over again. We’ve kind of spent more time living apart than together, you know? A lot can happen in sixteen years.”

 He was right on that. And truthfully, Jessica had no idea where to start, so she focused back on him.

 “So if you weren’t dead all this time…where have you been? What the hell happened?”

[thebladeblaster]

Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 9 Prelude To The Circuit Part 2

Aichi’s current team

Level 81 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 79 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 80 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 86 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

“Well...I guess I can’t convince you at least not now. So, I’m returning to Kakusa for now...I’ll find a way to show you that we don’t have to be enemies, Olivier.”, Aichi said.

“We at least agree on that.”, Olivier replied.

“Is something wrong Yugi?”, Anzu asked.

Yugi blinked looking very confused. He didn’t know why that sudden image came to his mind. Perhaps he was daydreaming? Imagining a possible what if?

“What’s the messiah?”, Yugi thought.

“I...don’t know.”, Yami replied awkwardly, looking as confused as Yugi.

“Well...I didn’t exactly expect you too.”, Yugi replied, sweat dropping.

They then finally started to set off from Galar. Aichi took one last sad look at the region he was born in before turning away. Those with flying Pokémon threw out theirs and they took off to the regions they were at before minus Aichi who was finally returning to Kakusa.

Aichi went his separate ways from the others as they reached the shore of Sanctuary town. Aichi was a bit nervous as he stood before his home’s door for a solid minute. He noticed Elaine wasn’t watering the garden today he was thankful for that considering he didn’t want to get shot. Aichi shuffled nervously as the back of his fist hovered over the door.

“Oh!!!!!! What am I going to say?!?! I’m not even going to make it to the Circuit if mom kills me!!!”, Aichi mentally screamed.

“I just gotta do it! She’s probably been worried sick about me!”, Aichi thought, before finally knocking.

Aichi waited for a few seconds nervously before the door opened revealing Emi.

“Aichi?!”, Emi gasped in shock.

“H-hey…”, Aichi replied awkwardly, looking around behind Emi.

“Where have you been we’ve all been worried sick about you?!”, Emi questioned, as Aichi frantically waved his arms at her volume.

“I-it’s a l-long story…”, Aichi muttered, sounding very nervous.

Aichi paled as Shizuka came into view from behind Emi. Her eyes were shadowed and Aichi imagined menacing kanji floating around her in his panic.

“It's been a whole week…”, Shizuka started with noticeable restrained anger in her voice.

“I can explain!!!!”, Aichi replied in a very high pitched and panicked tone.

“You better!”, Shizuka threatened in a low tone and Aichi paled and nervously backed up.

Aichi flinched as Shizuka put her hand on his shoulder before he could scurry away.

“Where are you going son? Come in and explain.”, Shizuka said in a low tone and even Emi sweated a bit nervously knowing her brother was in for a bad time.

Aichi gulped nervously hearing her and started stuttering. His heart beat even faster when he was practically dragged into his house by his mother. Emi sweat dropped looking at her poor brother’s panicked face as he was dragging in silently glad it was not her.

“E-Emi!!! H-help me!!!”, Aichi begged practically squealed as Shuka, who was inside the house, sweat dropped.

She wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating, but she could hear horror movie-like music as Aichi was dragged away.

“It is so hard to believe he’s even the same entity as the other Aichi.”, Shuka thought.

Emi nervously followed slowly after the two joined by Shuka. Aichi sat in the living room sweating rivers of sweat as Shizuka’s gaze bore into him. They sat there as Aichi tried to tell them what happened while stuttering nervously. The two girls looked over to Shizuka nervously who’s eyes were still shadowed. An intense fiery aura of anger radiated around her which made Aichi panic more. Emi was 100% sure her mother was about to murder her brother in cold blood especially over the Circuit. Aichi only grew more anxious over the long silence. Aichi flinched as his mother made his way over to him.

He was completely shocked and taken aback when she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him in a tight hug. A faint blush appeared on Aichi’s cheeks who looked towards his mother in confusion. Emi looked completely stunned, absolutely sure her brother was about to get murdered.

“Aichi...I can tell you're scared. Never forget your that feeling. Your emotions. What makes you human. Fear, Happiness, sadness, love, excitement they’re all important.”, Shizuka finally said, only further confusing her son.

“Mom? I thought you were mad at me?”, Aichi questioned.

“Of course I’m mad. I’m furious! But, I know that no matter how much I try to keep you away from Team Asteroid they came back for you regardless. Not, even Kakusa is sacred to them; the only thing that is to them is their cursed dogma.”, Shizuka continued.

She tightened her grip on Aichi holding him close to her chest like when they first met all those years ago. She found it amusing and ironic that Aichi still got scared of her. By all accounts she holds no real power over him. If he wanted to he could level the whole region and she nor anyone else could stop him. That is what truly made Aichi different from the other Psyqualia users.

“That’s what truly makes you different from ‘them’. You have kept all the emotions that make you human. As well as your individuality rather than being a part of the collective of Team Asteroid.”, Shizuka continued.

“You think so?”, Aichi questioned, looking down remembering the times where he has lost such things where he just became their weapon.

“Mom...I met...D...Gin.”, Aichi replied, feeling uncomfortable calling Gin his dad.

“What was it like?”, Shizuka asked.

“I don’t understand myself. But, it's like he feels like a stranger yet at the same time I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.”, Aichi replied.

“... I suppose he feels like a stranger to me now as well. I used to know him so well too…I don’t want to lose you too. For you to become someone else. Some sort of stranger.”, Shizuka said sadly, hanging her head.

“It’s alright mom. I’m going to end all of this without forgetting myself.”, Aichi replied, grabbing a napkin and bringing it up to his mother as he noticed tears forming in her eyes.

“Be careful alright. Promise me you’ll come back.”, Shizuka replied.

“It will be fine Mom I promise. This time I know it will be the last battle with Team Asteroid.”, Aichi assured.

Later…

“Hey, Shuka, you know how Emi had a weird feeling like she met you before. I had a similar feeling with someone I met today. Actually it was more than just her...”, Aichi told her.

“Who was it?”, Shuka asked.

“A Quatre Knight, Rati Curti. For some reason I felt like I could trust her despite the fact that we’ve never met. I felt a feeling of familiarity around them for some reason. I understand Oliver but I don’t understand why I felt it towards the others.”, Aichi explained.

Aichi looked worried at Shuka’s nervous and pale expression.

“Is something wrong Shuka?”, Aichi asked.

“...Back in my world they were your personal team.”, Shuka replied, looking down and Aichi sweated nervously.

“You mean wait….?! Why would I get a sense of deja vu from them if we’ve never met before?”, Aichi questioned.

“I have a theory...I’m not sure if it’s right but I don’t think this is a different universe from the world I knew. If that was the case you and Emi wouldn’t get these deja vu feelings.”, Shuka replied.

“But, how is that possible? You said events were completely different in your world. How can they be one in the same?”, Aichi questioned.

“I believe that the world or timeline that I was originally from was overwritten by this one. Before I arrived in this world we were pursuing Jirachi, the wish granting Pokémon.”, Shuka explained, causing Aichi to gasp in shock.

��What wish did you guys make?”, Aichi asked.

“I don’t know for sure. At the time the wish was made I was separated from Emi. She was facing you...and she may have panicked making a wish that altered the timeline causing the old one to be overwritten.”, Shuka explained.

“That’s...crazy…wait I was facing Emi?!”, Aichi questioned.

“Yeah...about that. As you know in my world you were...kind of a bad guy. You were trying to stop us from freeing the world from Team Asteroid...uh...so ahem anyway I think you are getting these feelings of deja vu because of lingerings of the original timeline. The timeline was overwritten but traces of it still exist. Not physically but uh...I’m not sure how to explain it without big complicated words but it’s like memories and feelings of the previous world linger. Dormant within people before something triggers them.”, Shuka explained.

“I’m not sure I completely understand...but…”, Aichi trailed off, looking down.

So, that world where he was took over the world still lingers. He even faced off against Emi?! Seriously?!? His own sister?!

“All of that is in the past or I guess no longer in the past...uh...anyway you shouldn’t worry about it! You should worry about the present! After all you gotta beat 002f after all!”, Shuka said.

“About 002f is there anything you can tell me about him? As you know I still don’t remember most things before Kakusa. I didn’t even know I had a signature move…”, Aichi asked.

“Not specifically, I didn’t encounter him much in my timeline. But, if you want to know more about the Psyqualia users I guess...do you know about limit break?”, Shuka questioned.

“Not much...I saw 004a use it when he did he looked like a Pokémon for some reason.”, Aichi answered.

“That’s because when you guys use limit break your Pokémon genes become more dominant causing your appearance to change into something more like a Pokémon. After creating 001q the guys making you realized how much of a strain your psychic powers put on your bodies. As you know physically you're mostly human although you can upgrade your defense with your powers. Limit break was implemented after 001q to overcome that problem. Your Pokémon genes make your bodies sturdier to withstand the strain, more stamina and from what I’ve seen it seems like you get new abilities too.”, Shuka explained.

“Yeah, that certainly is an issue. Psyqualia always saps me like crazy whenever I use it.”, Aichi replied.

“It’s more for the higher levels of usage. I mean when your power starts physically hurting you body.”, Shuka replied.

“W-what?! That’s never happened to me or Ren before?”, Aichi questioned.

“That’s because neither of you probably used that much. How much of your power can you use safely now?”, Shuka asked

“...10% at max…”, Aichi replied, looking down as Shuka sweat dropped gaping.

“You kicked my butt with only 10% or less jeez! You Psyqualia users are really ridiculous.”, Shuka replied exasperatedly.

“How much did I use against you in your timeline?”, Aichi asked.

“I have no clue honestly. You were always holding back so it was never enough for you to become strained. Heck, we never even saw you limit break! I don’t even know what you could do in that state.”, Shuka replied.

“You never saw it?! Seriously? Wow umm...Takuto did say I had a lot of power...I never had any idea of how much…”, Aichi replied stunned.

“Yeah...I know. Trust me I know I’ve fought you multiple times...”, Shuka replied, sweat dropping.

“Sorry about that...Uh...Do you think I’ll need limit break to beat 002f?”, Aichi asked.

“Definitely. I felt his power when he came here. Considering he was trained properly to use his power he definitely can use limit break too and will be more skilled. If you two fought now you’d lose.”, Shuka replied.

“I see…”, Aichi replied, feeling a bit of 093v’s frustration building up inside him which he tried to conceal.

“Me and my Pokémon are going to have to train hard to defeat him...I refuse to lose to him again!!!”, Aichi thought, feeling exasperated at the end part.

Honestly, he’s had it up to here with his “other self’s” pride. Especially with such thoughts intruded into his mind and after he fought Groudon like a maniac.

“Just be quiet I have things to do.”, he thought to himself, addressing 003v.

Aichi walked out of his house after gathering his Pokémon.

“Well, looks like it’s time for the training. I’ll have you know I’ll be pushing you guys far harder than before. Aichi, you should know I won’t be satisfied till you are at least ready to have me battling as your Pokémon and not as your sword.”, Alfred said and Aichi nodded in response.

“I understand Alfred.”, Aichi replied.

“Golisopod! Golisopod! Golisopod! (Ah jeez this is gonna be intense!)”, Llew said.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. (We’ll have to wither it if we want a chance of getting Ahmes back.)”, Gancelot replied.

“Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus! (Oooh this is gonna be so fun!!!)”, Soul Saver said.

“Lycanroc…(Yeah, fun sure…)”, Wingal replied.

Aichi flinched as he felt a familiar presence near them. He turned to see Tatsunagi Takuto.

“Takuto?! What are you doing here?”, Aichi questioned.

“Well to help you out with the training of course and I noticed you're missing a sixth Pokémon.”, Takuto replied and Aichi looked down at the last part.

“No Pokémon can replace Ahmes.”, Aichi replied.

“Not replace. I was thinking more as a substitute…”, Takuto said, before revealing a master ball causing them all to gasp in shock.

“W-what a master ball?! Just what are you trying to give me, Takuto?”, Aichi questioned.

“As a temporary substitute for Ahmes I plan to join your party as Solgealeo. I am your guardian after all and this battle will likely be the toughest you’ll ever face. 002f is the greatest rival you have among the Psyqualia users for being the strongest.”, Takuto revealed, causing more surprised gasps.

“I understand but...are you sure you can do that Takuto? What about your corporation? Or Kakusa?”, Aichi questioned.

“This battle is much more important and Kakusa will be guarded in your absence. The Tatsunagi corporation will also be glad to provide you with anything you need for training. Even top quality training partners. How about Kai?”, Takuto replied.

Aichi’s breath hitched at the mention of Kai and his eyes lit up. Noticeably as he did Soul Saver started wagging her tail. Aichi’s other Pokémon sweat dropped.

“Lycanroc? Lycanroc? Lycanroc? (He’s a real fanboy ain’t he?)”, Wingal whispered to Aichi’s other Pokémon.

“I get to train with Kai!?!?!”, Aichi questioned with more excitement in his voice than they’ve ever heard before.

“Well yes. Kai has actually decided to return to Kakusa to train. After all the Circuit could be your guys chance to end this war once and for all.”, Takuto replied, sweat dropping a bit not expecting Aichi’s reaction.

In Kanto…

Yugi faced off against Jonouchi in a battle. Yugi had out his Grimmsnarl and Jonouchi had his Charizard. Anzu and Honda watched on as the two battles in the clearing.

“We’re definitely gonna beat those Asteroid losers! Gimme your worst Yug!” Jonouchi said.

“Always Jonouchi. Let’s go Mahad!”, Yugi replied and his Grimmsnarl growled.

“Need some more draining smarters?”, Kamui asked appearing much to the shock of the others.

[voidnarniaimagines]

Hi. I’m not sure if requests are open, but if they are, is it Alright is you could do an Edmund x reader imagine? Where the reader is forced to marry Edmund due to alliances, Edmund and reader were quite worried that they would not like their fiancé as they had never met before. And then they meet each other a few days before their wedding? And if it isn’t too much, could you add where reader is pregnant and just fluff if that ok? Is this too much to much to ask? Tysm if you do do it. Xx

First off, I’m sorry this took so freaking long to write. Secondly, I sort of followed your request sort of didn’t haha. The reason is because I sort of lost myself in the writing and it went another way. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy it.

ARRANGED MARRIAGES AND UNWANTED BABIES

Warning: like one swear word? + I DIDNT EDIT IT SO PROB LOTS OF MISTAKES

There are various different ways a princess can fuck up. You can run away, punch your maid, start a scandal, get pregnant or marry a peasant, and lucky for you, you managed to do all of the above in the span of one week.

Third in the line of succession of Archenland, your list of duties is endless, and you often find yourself longing for normality, so when Alejandro the cooks assistant offered to sneak you out of the castle on a date, you didn’t hesitate and agreed.

At first it was all very innocent, he held your hand, took you dancing and even paid for the sweet bread you obsessively stared at from outside a bakery. But on your walk back to the castle his posture changed, he became handsy, flirty and bold, and perhaps it was because you had not had your first kiss yet, or the baker slipped something into the sweet bread, but when Alejandro sneaked his hand under your dress, you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t talk to him again after that, that is until your period was late and your maid claimed the only explanation for your sudden weight gain was that you were pregnant. He wanted you to ‘get rid of it’, after all, it was his head on the line or better yet the guillotine, you refused, you had always wanted a child, and although the circumstances were not ideal, you knew if you didn’t have it you would regret it for the rest of your life.

So Alejandro suggested you ran away, you could get married and settled somewhere nice and calm amongst the border of Archenland and Narnia, he would open a restaurant or perhaps a bakery and although it wouldn’t be much, you were thrilled, normal was all that you had ever wanted.

But of course things didn’t go according to plan. After your maid walked in on you trying to sneak out of the window, the rest became a blur. You know you punched her and managed to get to the woods outside of the castle, after that you remember loosing sight of Alejandro him mumbling something about “survival comes first”, next, you remember your dad scolding you and ruining his office, there was broken glass everywhere, and lastly you remember not being able to sleep that night, your mother sobbing outside of your bedroom door, your dad grumbling “what the fuck am I going to do with you”.

It seemed things did turn out alright in the end though, at least for them. A week later your dad called you to his office, he claimed it was urgent. You marched in, head low, hands clasped together in front of you.

“Oh please daughter, stop being so shy, look at me” His voice was loud and diplomatic, and when you looked up you understood why, seated in front of him were two serious and handsome men.

The taller one had dirty blonde hair, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder over his figure, blonde men have always been your type. You stole a glance at the boy next to him, but brushed him off as bland in comparison to his colleague.

“This is my daughter, Princess (y/n) Lady of Archenland” your father interrupted your unholy train of thought.

“It’s a pleasure” you remarked your voice barely above a whisper, you bowed.

Both men stood up and gave you a rapid curtsy, before introducing themselves, “High King Peter of Narnia” the blonde boy kissed your hand and you felt your stomach tying into knots.

“King Edmund of Narnia” he smiled before curtly kissing your hand, it seemed he didn’t wanted to be there either.

“Well, now that you both have become acquainted I believe we are ready to proceed with the wedding preparations.” Your father remarked excitedly

“We are what now?” You shrieked.

And just like that you were back to reality, they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. Perhaps this was a sign that you were in fact dying and that this wedding had all been a hallucination of your comatose state, the heavy diamond ring on your hand and the annoyed King by your side suggested otherwise.

You and King Edmund waved at the crowd, arms intertwined, and large fake smiles plastered across your faces, you wanted to cry, in fact you needed to cry, pregnancy hormones were sucking the life out of you and your feet felt like they were going to fall off at any second.

As if he had read your mind Edmund grumbled “Just a few more minutes and we can leave”, you weren’t sure if he knew about your pregnancy, and quite frankly you weren’t about to ask, so you swallowed your pain and anger took a deep breath and began counting the seconds until you could leave.

They say time flies when you're having fun, which suggests that the opposite occurs when you're bored. It took a century for Edmund to finally announce you were leaving, and (y/n) couldn’t help but release a huge sight of relief, but there was still one issue or question that remained unanswered, the consummation ceremony.

Although Narnia had long stopped practising the infamous royal consummation ceremony, Archenland hadn’t, which meant that it all came down to the King of Archenland and how much he wanted to continue the so called tradition. Perhaps it was fear that his daughter would be unmasked as not a virgin and humiliated in front of all the other royals, or perhaps he simply didn’t care, he had done his duty after all, saved his daughter’s reputation by marrying her off to a king.

Nonetheless, the ceremony didn’t happen, much to Edmund and (y/n)’s relief, instead they were rushed to their new private quarters at the castle and trusted that they would consummate the wedding without supervision.

— “I need help.” Her voice barely above a whisper (y/n) turned to Edmund, he was staring outside watching the guests leave the castle.

— “With what” he grumbled, he didn’t turn around.

— “I can’t get my corset undone.” He took a huge breath and closed his hand into fists before turning around to face her

— “I haven’t ever undone a corset.” He deliberately moved closer to her, as if regretting ever agreeing to marry her, she stood completely still, facing him, she definitely regretted marrying him.

— “Just undue the ribbons, it’s not that hard”

— “ok”

— “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been rude, it’s not your fault I’m in this mess.”

— He chuckled. “Great wait to start a marriage, calling it a mess that is.”

She smiled and apologised again, “you don’t have to apologise to me, I know the situation isn’t ideal, but there is no way out of it now. We should at least try to get along.” She nodded agreeing.

He left for the bathroom and as soon as he was out of sight she began to cry, all the pain and the fear she had been bottling up for so long mixed with the pregnancy hormones and it was a recipe for disaster, she shrieked as if she was in pain, hiding her face between her hands and letting out loud sobs.

— “What in the–” Edmund rushed out of the bathroom wearing nothing but his undershirt an underwear, “What is it? Are you ok?” He knelt down in front of her desperately trying to calm her down.

—“ I’m pregnant, I am freaking pregnant.”

He knew, her father had told them, though it was hardly the reason why Edmund was mad about this whole ordeal, in fact an illegitimate baby was the least of his problems, it was the arranged marriage part that bothered him. But at that moment, it dawned on him, she wouldn’t be able to make it through this pregnancy without help, perhaps, Aslan didn’t put (y/n) in his life he had put Edmund in her life. After all he knew the support wouldn’t come from her family, Aslan would want him to put his feelings aside, his anger and disappointment in his brother for rushing him to accept the proposal, and help her, it is his duty.

— “Hey, it’s ok, I know. It’s alright I don’t care.” His words came out jumbled, he had always been terrible with women, he just wanted her to calm down.

She kept mumbling she was sorry but eventually her crying seised, her head now hidden in the crook of his neck and her hands clutching his undershirt tightly, he hugged her. He was going to make this work, he had too.

And perhaps along the way they would fall in love, Edmund would toss his pride aside, and admit he had always found her charming, and her type would change from dirty blondes to brunettes, maybe one day they would find Alejandro again and finally give him what he deserved for leaving a pregnant woman alone in the woods, and maybe, just maybe, one day they would properly consummate their marriage.

[hypnoticwinter]

Sick Days

The first time I see him he’s sitting in his old easy chair staring at me as I come in and I stop and my school bag drops from my limp fingers. I can see the worn back of the chair through his transparent face and his eyes are burning at me and all of a sudden I feel rather faint. “Dad?” I manage to croak, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, like he isn’t even there. How could he be there? His hands are tight on the arms of the chair and his feet are crossed up on the ottoman, and then I realize he isn’t even looking at me, he’s looking through me, he’s staring at the television behind me. I turn around, slowly, cautiously, and see it isn’t even on. My eyes meet my reflection’s in the dusty glass and then I notice I can’t see his feet atop the reflected ottoman and when I turn back around he’s already gone.

The next day when I’m getting up to go to school I see him out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the door, watching me. I clutch the covers to my chest even though it’s my own father. Through his opalescent chest I can see the sunlight flooding through the big bay window down the hall, all fuzzy and distorted. I start to say something again but then I see that his eyes aren’t really focused on me at all, he’s looking out the window next to my bed. I look out it as well and outside I can see rain falling. I frown and think of the bay window but when I look back he’s gone and the window is casting shadows of the rivulets running down it as the storm cracks overhead.

 “I saw my dad last night,” I mention casually to Annie and Laurie at lunch and I see them share a glance with each other before Annie tosses her strawberry-blonde hair and frowns at me.

“Roan,” she says softly, “he’s –“

“In a dream?” Laurie asks. I shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you mean?”

“It seemed very real,” I explain. “It was right when I got home from school.”

“Are you okay?” Annie asks, and I give her a deadpan look. I’ve practiced it on myself in the mirror, grey eyes staring through you like a ghost. Works wonderfully. She flinches, looks down.

“Yeah,” I say eventually. “Just a dream. Not real.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Laurie says, and I know the trick isn’t going to work on her. I force myself to meet her gaze, brown eyes like the color of mud or wood.

“Yeah,” I repeat. In my mind I can still see my father, staring through me, piercing through the sheets and my skin and my breasts and my bones, staring out the window. Through him I can still see sunlight.

 “How’re you feeling?” Mrs. Agbabian, school counselor extraordinaire, three years from retirement and looking it, asks me. I stick my pencil back in my bun, lean back in the chair.

“Fine,” I tell her. She raises a thin eyebrow at me.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s natural, you know,” she says, “feeling upset about your father passing.”

My lip curls. She notices. “I hate that word,” I explain. “Passing.”

“I didn’t mean to –“

“He’s dead. He died. He didn’t pass anywhere, he’s gone.”

“It’s a comforting thought for some people.”

“Not me.”

“Why is that?”

I assume she assumes there’s some sort of abuse angle. You can see it in her beady eyes. “I prefer to look at things realistically.”

The bell rings and I get my stuff. Mrs. Agbabian pushes her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “You’ll have to do more talking next time, you know,” she calls after me. Fat chance, I think. I toss my head and pretend I didn’t hear. I have calc to get to.

 My dad is standing in the bay window, clear as day, only it’s obvious Annie doesn’t see him. She glances over at me in the passenger seat and would have caught a good glimpse of him but she doesn’t say anything. Surely she’d have said something. Instead she pokes me and I tear my eyes away from the window, meet hers. “We’re having tryouts,” she says, and the thought is so banal and innocuous that I completely fail to process it for a moment.

“Huh?”

“For cheerleading,” she explains. I shrug.

“Maybe next year.”

“I think you’d be really good,” she says quietly and I realize in a moment of perfect, if superfluous, clarity, that she wants me there because even though she’s the captain none of the other cheerleaders are her friends, and that life as a high school girl isn’t some High School Musical or Mean Girls type shit, it’s just cold and sad and lonely a lot of the time because you’re surrounded by a bunch of hormonal, catty bitches at their hormonalest and cattiest.

“When’s the tryout?” I ask quietly. Her eyes flick up to mine then back away after the barest contact.

“Next week. On Wednesday.”

I’ll come, I think, then I realize I didn’t say it out loud. Annie looks at me quizzically. “I’ll come,” I say, and her eyebrows float up to the roof of her forehead.

“Really?” she says. I nod.

“Yeah, why not?”

“I’m glad,” she says, tamping down the excitement in her voice. I try to keep my lip from curling.

“How –“ I start, then stop. I was about to ask how slutty I should dress, considering it’s cheerleading, but I hold my tongue. “What should I wear?” I say.

“Just regular workout clothes, you know. No big deal.”

We talk for a little bit more about the calc homework before I extricate myself from the car and wave a halfhearted goodbye at her as she puts it in gear and drives off.

I turn to walk up the drive and glance over at the bay window, but there’s nobody there at all.

 “What’s for dinner?”

I don’t bother looking at him. “Macaroni,” I say. Pierre wrinkles his nose.

“But I don’t want macaroni,” he says, and I glare at him.

“Don’t start,” I warn.

“I want mommy,” he says. “Mommy cooks nice –“

“Would you like to cook?” I ask him. “You can make whatever you like.”

He looks over at the stove as though he’s never seen it before. “I can’t,” he says finally. “Daddy would be mad at me.”

I hesitate only a moment before I let out a sardonic chuckle. “Not any more.” Pierre frowns. “Daddy can’t be mad at anything ever again.”

“Why?”

I remember my mom telling me not to tell my little brother but after she’s ditched us here for a week I find myself not caring too much. “Cause dad’s dead,” I say, expecting tears, but he just cocks his head at me.

“No he isn’t,” Pierre says, and goddam it, there’s a little shiver along the curve of my back.

“What?” I say stupidly. Pierre shakes his head.

“Daddy isn’t dead!” he laughs. “He’s right there!” he points, over my shoulder to where the back door and the stairs down to the basement ought to be, and I can’t help it, I can’t force myself to turn around and look.

 While I’m putting Pierre to bed I ask him if he sees dad a lot, and he shrugs. “I guess,” he says. “He doesn’t say anything though.”

“No?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “he’s always really quiet. It’s kind of scary.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly.

“Where’ve mommy and daddy gone?”

“Away.”

“When will they be back?”

“Soon,” I say, echoing what mom told me when she left.”

“Okay,” he says, holding his arms out for me. I hug him and he presses his face against my breasts, through my t-shirt. I pat the back of his head.

“Goodnight,” I say as I plug in his night-light, and when he doesn’t say anything I glance back at him and realize he’s already asleep. I turn to leave and there’s my father, staring at me, only a few inches from where I’d crouched down at the wall socket, and I fall back, tripping over my own feet, scream bubbling in the back of my throat before I choke it back down. He doesn’t move, or speak, or anything. Through his translucent chest I can see a flickering, orange glow, like that of a fire, cast from the kitchen down the hall. I glance around past him and see no dancing shadows, nothing but calm, cool, fluorescent light.

I look up at him and through him and past him. His eyes are very vague. It seems like he’s staring at my brother, or perhaps the window next to my brother’s bed. I know not to look this time, though, as he’ll just vanish. I lick my lips. “Dad?” I whisper.

Of course there’s no response. Why would there be? He can’t possibly really be there. It’s just… a hallucination. An image, something I’m making myself believe is real because I don’t want him to be dead. I reach out and touch him.

 I wake up to my phone ringing. It’s my mom being very angry at me about why I missed school. I blink at her and then blink at the light streaming in through the window. She got a call while she was very busy making arrangements this morning for your father’s funeral and she trusted me to handle everything while she was gone, you’re all grown up now and Pierre needs you, why can’t you take this seriously?

I do the only thing that seems reasonable at the moment and burst into tears. I hear my mother stop, then blow out a big sigh. “It’s okay,” she says eventually, then again. I sniff harder than I really need to. “How’s Pierre doing?” she asks. I cough.

“He’s fine,” I tell her. I reach over, turn my alarm clock around. It’s one in the afternoon. “He’s at school I think.”

“You think?”

I sniffle again and she fixates on it. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I think I might be coming down with something.”

“There should be orange juice in the fridge somewhere. I’m meeting with the lawyer today so I have to go soon but call me if you need anything, Roan, honey.”

“Okay,” I say, then after a moment, “I’m sorry I missed school.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. I hear her breathe in, then out. “I’m sorry I can’t be there right now.”

I swallow. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Take care of Pierre, okay?”

“Okay, mom.”

“I love you. Bye.”

“I lov –“ I start, but then the line clicks dead. I stare at the phone for a second, then put it down, then I start and bring my hand back up to my face. There’s a terrible choking sensation in my stomach and I feel like my head is spinning but I blink hard and tell myself not to be a little bitch. I open my eyes again and the sensation returns in full force when I look at my index finger, the same finger I gingerly extended last night to touch my father, the same finger that is now transparent and dully glowing.

 I’m standing there with my finger poking entirely through my phone, about an inch away from my face. I turn it around, look from all sides, take it out of the phone, then press the button on the side and wake it back up. “Shit,” I murmur. There’s a smoky distortion, roughly circular, straight in the middle of the screen, where my finger was. It flickers at me. I tap at the phone experimentally but it still works, I can open up facebook and then youtube just fine, it’s just a…hole. Kind of.

I try to pick up a pen from my bedside table but it just falls right through my finger. Then I look down as I’m going to get it and I see wide stripes of faded transparency over my shirt, on my hip, a few worrying ghostly fingerprints on my thigh, burned straight into the skin. “Oh fuck,” I say.

There’s a dull kind of terror thudding in time with my heartbeat, somewhere deep down in the pit of my stomach, but I take a deep breath, try and keep myself calm. “Pierre?” I call out, wondering if he even bothered to go to school today. He can get there by himself but I don’t know if he’d go if I wasn’t awake to make him. There’s silence for a moment, then somewhere else in the house a door slams. I blink. “Pierre?” I call again, a little softer.

I reach up, brush my hair out of my eyes, then realize what I did. I go to the mirror and look into it and see half my bangs fading into transparency. “Fuck,” I repeat.

I go, open the door, stick my head out into the hallway. It’s very quiet but it’s like the door is still slamming somewhere in the back of my head. “Dad?” I call, very quietly.

 “Where were you today?”

I listen to Laurie’s low, concerned voice, and wonder what I ought to tell her. “I stayed home,” I say finally.

“Are you okay?”

“Why is everybody asking me that?” I growl. I hear Laurie make a distasteful little clicking sound with her tongue. She’s going to be a great mom some day.

“I’m worried about you,” she explains, in a rather tight voice, and I groan inwardly.

“I’m okay,” I say, trying to ignore my finger. “I just overslept, everything’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding like she doesn’t really believe me but she’s going to be a good friend and give me the benefit of the doubt, even though I act like a bitch to her and I don’t really deserve it. I sigh, trying not to breathe into the phone too much.

“Thank you for calling,” I tell her. There’s a pause.

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, really,” I say. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been a –“

“Roan,” she says, and I can hear in her voice that she’s smiling. “It’s okay. That’s what friends are for.”

I manage a little smile. “Thanks,” I tell her.

When I hang up I manage to keep the smile going for a little bit, even in spite of my finger. I glower at it once I remember it’s there, then the door slams again, louder this time, and my head snaps up. I bite my lip a little then push the door open and step out into the hall.

“Dad?” I call again. I think I see a ghostly white slip of something flicker around the corner. It’s the first time I’ve seen him move.

The air in here feels terribly still and stale, and my throat is going dry quickly from breathing it. That’s definitely the only reason, nothing else. I’m certain of it.

I turn the corner and he’s there, sort of huddled down in the corner next to the chair he used to always sit in when we ate dinner. He’s staring at me only this time he’s really staring at me, not at something through me or past me. I can see grass fluttering in an unfelt wind through him. When he sees me he stands upright and reaches out for me and I shriek and scamper back down the hallway quicker than I thought I could possibly move and slam the door to my room. I’m sweating all of a sudden and when I swallow I can feel my throat clenching around my heart, which seems to have drifted upwards about a foot or so. I back away from the door slowly waiting for him to reach through it or walk through the wall or something but I keep waiting and waiting and he never comes.

Eventually I’m able to force my lungs to contract and blow out a breath I’d been holding for way, way too long. I look down at my finger and wonder what’s going to happen, and then I turn around to, I don’t know, go back to bed or something, and then I shriek again because there’s Pierre, standing at the window, his little arms folded behind his back, ghostly and transparent from head to toe. Through him, through the window, I can see a dusty orange sky and a dusty, flat plain, with something like a mountain moving in the distance. Then I blink and he’s gone, just like that, in a single instant, there and then not.

 I make the mistake of leaving a single panicked voicemail on Laurie’s phone, then stop myself after the first two rings on Annie’s. She calls me back right after I hang up and I stare at the phone buzzing at me then let it go silent. What am I going to tell her? That my dad’s a ghost and he’s trying to get me just like he got my little brother? That my little brother’s doing the same shit my dad was and I don’t know what I’m going to do if he starts looking at me?

My feet are starting to get cold and I glance down, then notice that my dad has reached up through the floor and grabbed them, and already I can see the transparency seeping out of his fingers and down through me. His forehead pops through from the basement, his eyes already fixed on mine, and then he sinks out of view, his hands leaving a slimy cold trail on my bare feet. Then I stumble and fall a couple inches as my feet pass through the floor and the bare stumps of my legs and ankles clunk onto the carpet with such a comical thumping noise that as I fall to the floor I laugh and laugh and laugh until it starts to sound more like sobs.

Then my father is passing through the door and I shriek and cover my eyes, like that will protect me, only he vanished as soon as I shut my eyes and was replaced with Pierre, back to me, hands still clasped, so serious even as a ghost, standing and staring up at the giant bookcase in my room like he always did, like he was trying to decide what to read next. I try to get up and end up having to clamber to my feet or stumps, leaving footprint-shaped burns in the floor as I stumble towards the door, hanging onto the wall, upsetting the bookcase as I try to hang on to it, which falls over on Pierre but he pierces through it, unmoved, and then slowly turns towards me, our eyes locking, and I blink and see my father stepping out of the closet and striding towards me, and then I resolutely keep my eyes from him and open the door and slowly, agonizingly, make my way out into the hall and down it and into the living room and towards the front door. My father and Pierre are both there, blocking my way, not looking at each other, staring only at me as they step forward, but I close my eyes and thrust my arm forward, trusting that they can’t exist when I’m not looking at them, and then I made the biggest mistake I could have, I opened the door and stepped outside, eager to be rid of the ghosts in the house and not thinking what my newfound sight might show me. I shut the door and then turned to go down the steps and then down the path and out the gate but I stopped before the thought could fire in my mind because there, outside, everywhere, were the white, translucent forms of a million ghostly birds crowding the sky, and a billion ghostly insects filling the air, and an uncountable myriad of ghostly trees and leaves and branches filling everywhere else there was left to fill, and as I watched I saw their heads and eyes and branches swivel towards me and when I met the gaze of a stork caught midflap, wings frozen, unmoving, I knew that they knew I could see them. I turned and opened the door and darted inside as quickly as I could but it was too late, and as my father reached out his hand to me from behind the sofa and Pierre turned around from the great bay window and took a faltering step towards me the first hundred of a tide of insects pushed through the fabric of the door and a scream filled my throat until it was blocked by my teeth and tongue and rebounded back down inside of me and swallowed up all of my organs and blood and thoughts until all I was was a scream with a narrow skin over it, and as the first one of those ghostly spiders clambered up onto my knee, its ghostly feet finding purchase somehow on me and spreading coldness with each tiny step I popped and the scream burst out of me for ever and for ever.

[cordoniantrash]

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter Seven

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter 6

Plus a masterlist if you guys are interested.

Hey guys! November turned out to be really busy but here’s chapter 7! It ended but being extra long but heeyy, I missed like two weeks worth of updates.

This chapter was brought to you by @thequeennefertipi and Daniel Henney’s clavicle.  

Spelling and grammatical errors are mine. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege. Title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography.  

Pairings: Liam x MC

Warning: swearing, really long post

Words: 9970 

Chapter Seven: Orpheus

Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos

Though I know it's blinding there's a way out

Say out loud, we will not give up on love now

 Time is relative. She had heard those words in secluded library nooks, whispered over piles of textbooks; had written it in some of her academic papers. She accepted it with a vague idea of what it was and with the expectation that it probably won’t happen to her.

Except that it did.

It happened to her one night four years ago.

It was happening to her again.

For a brief moment, she wondered if she was dreaming. That all her musings and daydreams had manifested into hallucinations. That her mind had somehow conjured him up. This only happens in my dreams. He opened his mouth and called her name. 

If this is a dream, please don’t let it end.

“Cassandra?” he asked once more, his voice a beloved memory. She stood rooted on the spot. He took a cautious step forward. And another. Until he was standing close. Mechanically, she pinched herself. It hurt.

That means this is real.

Her heart was beating hard on her chest. Every beat seemed to say a word. A name. 

“Liam,” she whispered. She drank the sight of him. He was both familiar and new and she was a wanderer who had only just found an oasis. Liam looked at her like she might disappear. Their eyes met once more. Cassie couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to. Her knees felt weak. Her thoughts kept looping around the same words.

Liam.                                                     

Here.

You’re here.

They stood there, trapped in their own bubble, both of them reluctant to move. Reluctant to break the spell. Afraid to let go.

“Mommy?” another beloved voice cut through their little bubble. They both turned towards the sound. At the sight of his father, Lucas, still in his pyjamas and clutching a half-eaten cookie, let out a gasp then launched himself forward, quickly reaching Liam’s legs and latching on. 

“Dad! You came!”

----

Lucas pulled him towards what looked like a sitting room. He could barely keep up with the child, his eyes often straying to Cassandra. 

Four years, and you still take my breath away. 

Sensing his eyes on her, she looked up from staring at Lucas. Liam did not forget the way she startled when Lucas called him Dad. His eyes caught the way she tensed, the bewilderment and panic that entered her wide eyes. Liam suddenly felt awkward.

Is she mad? What if she doesn’t want me here? Perhaps she never intended for me and Lucas to meet. He felt a pang in his chest. Did she find someone else? Am I intruding? In all his daydreams, he never even entertained the idea that she had moved on. Found someone else. And why shouldn’t she? I let others choose my fate. I basically abandoned her and our child. She has every right to feel that way. 

“… Dad!” Lucas’ exclamation put an abrupt end to his spiralling thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam saw her startle again. Is that really so surprising? So bad?

“I’m sorry, darling. I did not catch that.” Liam said as he ran his hand through Lucas’ hair. A few hours ago, I thought I’d never get to do this again. I’m glad to be wrong in this case. Stealing another glance at Cassandra, Liam prayed he was also wrong in another case. 

Lucas tugged on his hand and Liam lost his train of thought. He silently berated himself and focused on his son.

“D’you wanna colour with me, Dad? We can go see the fishes too!”

“Baby, I think,” Cassandra piped up, glancing at him before turning her attention to their son (a part of him still rejoices at that thought). “Yo — Liam might be tired from all that travelling.”

Liam straightened and caught Cassandra’s eye. Well, tried to. She kept avoiding his gaze.

“It’s quite all right,” he said, keeping his voice pleasant. “I’d love to spend some time with him.” And you, he added in his mind, “but I should pay my respects to the lady of the house first.”

“Oh… um—Auntie’s not here,” Cassandra said, fiddling with her hands. If Liam noticed that it held no rings, he kept it to himself. Along with the sudden rush of relief that flooded his veins. 

“She’s gone to London for some social event,” she continued. “It’s just me and Lucas right now.”

“I see…” he trailed off, words abandoning him. What was he supposed to say? He can’t just fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, not with the way she kept avoiding his gaze. Liam swallowed. Think, damn it!

A beat of silence passed. Liam could hear the grandfather clock ticking away. He glanced at Lucas. The child tilted his head, taking turns to look at him and at Cassandra, seemingly sensing the atmosphere in the room. 

“… so, no fishes?” he asked tentatively. Liam and Cassandra spoke at the same time. 

“Baby—“

“Darling—“

Their eyes snapped towards each other. Liam cleared his throat. Get it together, man!

“You go first,” he said, bowing slightly. For a moment, he spied a ghost of a smile on Cassandra’s face before she nodded and spoke to Lucas.

“Maybe we should look at fishes next time?” she said glancing at him. He rushed to reassure her.

“Oh, it’s really no problem. Although I do have to return to the city in a few hours,” he saw Cassandra’s shoulders fall. Is she relieved? Disappointed? His heart sank. When did I become so bad at reading her? 

“You-you’re not staying?” she asked, looking at a spot behind him. Liam resisted the urge to turn around. He rubbed his neck with his free hand.

“I booked a hotel in London… I—it’s bad enough to show up here unannounced. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

A furrow formed between Cassandra’s eyebrows. “So, you’re not staying?”

Liam’s heart skipped a beat. “Do… do you want me to stay?”

“Yes, please!” Lucas piped up from between them. They shared a glance before laughing. Liam tried not to cringe at how awkward they sounded.

“Seems like Lucas has decided then,” Cassandra said through a strained smile. It was Liam’s turn to look away from her. In other circumstances, he might have laughed at their strange dance, but he was too anxious to notice or care. 

“It really is no trouble,” Liam said. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

Lucas pouted. 

“But Daaaaad!” he whined, tugging on Liam’s hand. 

“We don’t mind,” Cassandra suddenly added. “Really. And I’m sure you and Lucas need to catch up.” She shrugged. Liam felt hope flicker into life in his chest. 

“Oh…” Liam trailed off. “Well, if it’s no trouble… and you can certainly tell me if it is, then I’ll stay.”

There was something he couldn’t name in her eyes, as she heard those words. Before he could ponder on what it was exactly, Lucas had let out a cheer and both of their focus shifted towards the boy. Their boy. 

“Well then,” Cassandra said, a smile tugging on her lips. “Welcome to Edgewater, Your Majesty.” 

----

As she leaned over the kitchen counter, Cassandra tried to affect an air of nonchalance. After a while, she gave up. The number of times she glanced at Liam ruined the intended effect. Get a grip, girl! It’s just the father of your child! The fact that he looks so good out of his usual suit is irrelevant. Not that he didn’t look good in a suit per se, she had just rarely seen him wearing casual clothes. Cassandra quickly snatched an empty glass, filled it with juice, and drank it in one go. Why am I running commentary on his clothes? Focus, Cassie!

Lucas was seated on the breakfast table, happily chattering away with Liam as his attentive audience. The breakfast that Cassie had made for her son was seemingly forgotten in front of them. Cassie tried not to feel jealous. The butterflies in her stomach did not help. It’s Liam! Be cool. 

She took a deep breath. Is he mad? He’s gotta be right? Who wouldn’t? She snuck another glance at him. 

He was already looking at her. 

Cassie quickly turned around and busied herself by assembling her own breakfast, her face hot. Shit! Shit! Shit! Abort mission! For god’s sake, be cool! Another thought occurred to her. Oh, fuck. I have to sit next to him. Does he still use the same cologne? She mentally shook her head.  This is not the time! 

Cassie felt that she had chugged coffee instead of orange juice. She felt jittery, as though she was ready to jump at a moment’s notice. 

“Do you need some help with that, Cassandra?” his voice cut through her thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh—uh, I was just about done, actually.” She turned to find him half-way out of his seat. “Oh, don’t get up on my account! I’ll be right there!”

God. Even I can hear how fake that sounded. Cassie cringed. Be cool girl!

“Mommy?” Lucas called out. 

“Yeah, baby?” Cassie answered as she sat on her chair, intensely aware of Liam’s proximity. 

“Can I have more cookies?”

Cassie left out a small sigh. Here we go…

“Baby, you’ve already had one. Remember?”

Lucas pouted, a tantrum in the works, “No…”

Cassie took a deep breath, fortifying herself for what looked like another debate session with Lucas when Liam cleared his throat.

“How about we explore the gardens, after you finish your breakfast, darling?” he looked at her, an apologetic glint in his eye. “That is—if that’s all right?”

“Yeah!” Lucas cheered. “Let’s go explore, Mommy!”

Cassandra blinked. Did those princely lessons involve a course on toddler wrangling? 

“Uh—‘course not.”

Liam smiled, a touch of relief colouring his next words. “That’s wonderful to hear,” he swallowed and added, “Would you like to come along?”

Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s nervous. The thought sent another jolt of jittery energy through her limbs. 

“Oh,” she fiddled with her fingers. “I—I don’t mind.”

Cassie was suddenly hit by the full force of two identical smiles. Oooh, boy. I’m in trouble.

-

Later, after a tour of the gardens spent mostly sneaking glances at each other (like fucking teenagers. Cassie wanted to shake herself), they found themselves back in the kitchens, this time for lunch. 

The awkwardness that was held at bay when they were outside descended like a blanket over them. Their lunch had already been cooked. Cassie had lost her excuse to not look at Liam. 

She glanced at him as he was helping Lucas to his chair. Not for the first time, she wondered if what she was seeing that instant was her only preview into what life with Liam could have been, had things turned out differently. 

If she hadn’t run away. 

If he hadn’t married someone else. 

For a moment she imagined a world where there was no scandal, no unseen forces that drove them apart. A world where they could have been free. A family. 

There was a lump in her throat. Cassie quickly turned away from the scene. There was no use fantasising. No use conjuring made-up scenarios in her mind. Cassie was no fool. She knew this idle won’t last. There will be questions asked, explanations demanded and perhaps, Cassie suppressed a shudder (of delight or fright she can’t quite decide yet), requests to be made. 

I can get through this, she mentally chanted to herself. It’s just a day. You’re halfway there! And then… and then what? Liam already knows, and Lucas is already attached. The morning had been more than Cassie had ever dreamed of. After this, what’s going to happen now? Will Liam want custody of Lucas? Will Liam hate her for what she’s done? Will she and Liam go back to the way things were four years ago? Could they?

“Mommy?” Lucas’ voice piped up from behind her. Cassie took a deep breath, steeling herself. Just one day at a time, yeah?

Later…

The early afternoon sun streamed through the windows. It was an hour after lunch and Lucas had fallen asleep while they were colouring. After half a day spent awkwardly around each other, Liam and Cassandra were currently enjoying a comfortable silence. Cassie wondered how long it would last, already dreading the inevitable conversation at the end of this interlude.

Liam lay Lucas gently on the bed. Once he straightened up, she pulled her son’s blanket to his shoulder and gave him his usual kiss on the forehead. Cassie felt his eyes on her. She slowly stood back and looked around for a bit.

Both of them tiptoed out of the room, silence between them. Without their son (she might as well say it) acting as a buffer, Cassie became intimately aware of how close Liam was. And, with Lucas’ constant chatter gone, she felt the weight of all of Liam’s unspoken questions. As if on some unspoken agreement, both of them knew that this was the time to start asking those questions.

Cassie took smaller steps just to delay the conversation for a few more seconds. Her trepidation, which she had managed to mostly keep in check, came full force. She was filled with nervous energy, despite the feeling that her limbs had grown limp. 

They stayed silent as they stepped into the hallway. Cassie tried to banish the thought that her room was just steps away. 

“So—“ 

“Well—“

They both stopped. Cassie could feel her face grow hot. Liam rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, the other going to his pocket. 

“You go first,” they both blurted out at the same time. Another bout of embarrassed silence followed. Liam gestured for her to speak first. Cassie took a deep breath. 

“I—uh. I should apologise for what happened earlier.” She spoke haltingly, as though she was composing her thoughts as she spoke. Liam tilted his head, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. For a moment Cassie stared. Lucas does the same thing, she thought suddenly dazed. She quickly looked down to avoid his eyes.

“Forgive me, but for what exactly?” Liam asked. Cassie bit her lip and looked up again. She pretended not to notice how his eyes zeroed in on what she was doing. She spoke again.

“Lucas assumed much, calling you Dad.” 

Liam swallowed. Cassie couldn’t help but follow the bob of his Adam’s apple. She cast her eyes to the carpeted floor, silently berating herself. 

“Oh… I don’t mind, really. I asked him to call me that.” At Liam’s words, Cassie’s eyes shot up to meet his. 

Oh shit.

----

Edgewater, night time

Liam pocketed his phone with a sigh. He was standing outside the manor, having just finished a phone call with Hana. 

Drake finally showed up and immediately attacked Maxwell. He pinched the bridge of his nose. I leave for one day and this happens. 

“Is there a problem?” her voice rang out into the night. Liam turned. Standing by the door, bathed in the warm light from the inside, was Cassandra. Liam’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t the first time that happened that day. After an afternoon spent in tense and awkward silence, her voice was a welcome sound. He’d seen the panic in her eyes and had stayed silent through most of it. Both of them only beginning to talk again once Lucas finished his nap.  

“Liam?” Cassandra asked, hesitant. For a moment, he debated not telling her. But they’re her friends too…

Liam sighed but spoke up. “Drake and Maxwell got into a fight.” Liam could make out Cassandra’s confused expression. He took a step forward and another until he’s facing her, his side pressed on the door frame as he leaned on it. 

“What the hell happened?” 

“I’m afraid it’s a rather long story. We might have to sit down for this.”

They ended up in the sitting room that Lucas had led him to earlier in that morning. Someone had lit the fireplace, lending a cosy feeling to the large room. It was there that Liam told Cassandra of what Hana had told him mere minutes ago: how Bertrand had unknowingly sent off a pregnant and heartbroken Savannah, Maxwell’s well-meaning but ultimately disastrous part, Drake’s rage and the chaos that erupted when all the pieces came together. When Liam finished the tale, both of them were cradling drinks in their hands. 

Silence once again fell over the pair. Liam watched as Cassandra stared into the fire, lost in thought. 

“Does… does this mean you’ll be flying back to Cordonia?” she said, still staring at the fire.

Liam shook his head. “Ah, not necessarily. Hana assured me that she and Kiara are on the case.”

Cassandra nodded. Liam was fascinated at how the fire cast a warm glow on her face. Her eyes look so dark in this lighting, not quite like the golden hue they’d take in the sunlight. As though sensing his stare, she glanced at him, expression not unlike Lady Clara. They are family, Liam thought, a little surprised at the confirmation. Up until then, the concept seemed abstract to him; not quite real. Liam had a hard time reconciling the image of Cassie, always so direct and sincere to that of the Countess of Edgewater, who was wiliness incarnate. Not for the first time that day, Liam wondered when he stopped being able to read Cassandra. Liam looked away, glancing around the well-appointed room. Any other time and he might have eagerly asked about the history of the manor. But not tonight. There was an unspoken question that had been bubbling between them since their reunion earlier. He felt her eyes on him. A beat passed. Cassandra sighed. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask?”

Liam glanced at her, “That depends on whether you’re ready to answer.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Please believe me when I say that I don’t want to force you into anything.”

She watched him, her face unreadable, “even if it won’t answer whatever question you have?”

With his heart beating hard, Liam nodded. Cassandra drained her drink in one gulp then placed it on the side table near them. 

“Right then,” she said as she leaned back in her chair. “Ask away.”

Where to start? Liam wondered. Under Cassandra’s gaze, Liam’s thoughts became jumbled. He had many questions, but he feared that the time they’ll have tonight will be short. 

“Is Lucas my son?” he settled on the question that had been in his mind a few days ago. Liam’s very being says yes, but his mind still seeks confirmation. Actual proof. 

Cassandra tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Liam, he looks just like you. I’d thought you’d know the answer by now. Didn’t you ask him to call you dad?”

Liam felt his ears burn. He still nodded. “I did. But—but I wanted to hear it from you.” And to beg for your forgiveness. I shouldn’t have let you go.

Cassandra’s jaw tensed. She looked down, seeming to collect herself. When she looked back up, her eyes were guarded. Liam felt something heavy sink in his stomach. 

“He is.” She said, Liam opened his mouth to speak, relief and joy mingling in his veins but she continued, “Did you just come here to confirm that?”

Her words snatched the air from his lungs. For several beats, Liam gaped at her. His mind had gone blank. 

“Well?”

“Of course not,” he managed to choke out. “I’ve been searching for you for years, Cassie.” the nickname slipped out of his mouth without thought. All-day he had been careful not to use that lest she be offended. After all, it suggested familiarity. The bond they shared years ago contained in a single word. 

“Right.” She said, cynicism colouring her voice. “And you managed to find me right when you met someone who could be your heir.”

“I—what?” he gasped, incredulous. 

“You heard me.”

Liam sputtered. Cassandra looked on, guarded expression thawing at the speed of a glacier. 

“Cassandra—I swear to you, I did not come here for that.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. Then her face fell.

“Are you suing for custody then?”

“What?” Liam asked, aghast. “No! I’ll never separate you and Lucas.”

Uncertainty flickered in her dark eyes. Liam was on the edge of his seat. Now or never.

“Cassandra, I would never dream of hurting you any further,” he began. “I’ve been searching for you for years to ask for your forgiveness. What my father did was despicable. The worst part of it was that not only were you harassed and humiliated, but I also abandoned you when you had gotten pregnant with Lucas.”

It was Cassandra’s turn to gape at him. Liam paused, waiting for her to answer. A few beats passed, and it never came. Liam had then decided to throw caution to the wind. He slowly knelt down in front of Cassandra. Her eyes widened. 

“Liam — “he noticed that her hands had gripped the upholstery on her chair. Heart pounding, he took a deep breath and forged ahead. 

“I could not tell you how much I regretted not running after you that night. I know I’m asking for too much and you have every right to be angry with me. Say the word, and I’ll never trouble you or—or Lucas again. I—“his voice cracked. “I thought I was protecting you, shielding you from the conspiracy that violated you. I thought it was safer not to contact you during the engagement tour. But when I got to Manhattan, you were already gone.” 

Liam’s eyes never wavered from her face. “I’ve made many mistakes all these years. I should have fought harder for you. I should have gone after you the moment you left for New York. Not going to you since the beginning and missing all these years with Lucas will always be my greatest regrets. Please, Cassandra. Cassie, let me make amends. I can’t take back the last four years, but I’ll try my damnest to make up for it. If you’ll let me.”

Liam was breathing heavily when he finished. He felt lighter somehow, the words he had been holding inside for years finally set free. The fire crackled. Liam did not dare move from his spot. A minute passed. Cassandra’s guarded expression had thawed. Now, her eyebrows were furrowed. A beat passed, the grandfather clock ticking echoed through the room. 

“You-you’re not mad?” Cassandra asked, her voice hushed. Liam’s eyebrows rose.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked, surprise making him forget his nerves for a little while. 

“I—I kept Lucas secret from you!”

“But that was my fault,” Liam said, the tumbling, chaotic mess of emotions inside him quickly turning into surprise. “If anything, you should be mad at me…”

“But I caused a scandal! I—I denied you four years of our son’s life!” Cassandra said, incredulous. 

“You were framed Cassie,” Liam said, the nickname rolling off his tongue easier now. Cassandra blinked. 

“All this time I thought you were mad at me. I thought you’d believed the photos. I – I thought you hated me.”

Liam carefully took her hand. Cassandra did not object, although he heard her sharp intake of breath. When she did not say anything, he kissed her hand with all the tenderness he could muster. 

“I don’t think I could ever be that mad at you. I was a fool, but not enough to lose faith in you. I’ve never doubted you, Cassie. I was the one who failed you. Both of you.”

When he looked up, Cassandra’s eyes were shining with tears. Alarmed, Liam straightened up and began apologising. Before he could get a word out, however, Cassie had sprung out of her chair and all but tackled him. There was a beat before his mind registered what was happening. Cassandra was hugging him. He wrapped his arms around her, his eyes beginning to dampen as well. Cassie sobbed. Liam hugged her tighter. The flicker of hope inside his chest burned bright. 

I missed you. I’ll do my best to be worthy of you now. Of both of you. 

After a while, their tears had stopped. But Cassie did not move from his arms. He did not let go of her either.

They stayed fixed on that position until the fire burned low. 

-

Later, when they had both straightened up and collected themselves, Cassandra turned to him, her eyes still red from crying and said, “It’s not your fault, you know. Seems like we both messed up. But what happened to me wasn’t your fault.”

Liam was still sceptical, but at that moment (and all his moments forward) he’ll do what she asked. And so he nodded. Cassandra searched his eyes, somehow sensing that he still did not believe that. She found one of his hands and gave it a squeeze but she did not press her point. 

After a beat of silence, she cleared her throat and spoke. 

“I—uh, never asked where you’d stay.” They were comfortably seated on the carpet in front of the relit fire. 

“I, ah, booked a hotel earlier. In London.”

“Right. You, ah, mentioned that earlier,” she fidgeted with her hands, eyes fixed on the flames. “So… You’ll be staying then?”

If you’ll have me, Liam thought. As though realising what she just said, she added:

“In London, I mean.”

“Um, yes.”

“For how long?”

As long as you want me to, Liam answered in his mind.

“… A while at least.”

There was a long pause. 

“You know… you can just stay here. Actually sleep here, I mean. W—Lucas would appreciate it, I’m sure.”

Liam’s heart jumped in his chest. A smile tugged his lips.

“If that’s not too much trouble?” he murmured. Cassandra shook her head, a hint of red in her cheeks. 

“Not at all.”

“Then, who am I to refuse?”

She glanced at him, a sparkle of something in her eyes.

“Well?”

Liam resisted the urge to kiss her. He settled on her hand instead. Her lips parted slightly.

“I’ll be honoured.” 

----

Edgewater, the next day

The gardens look particularly lovely this morning, Clara mused as her chauffer rode into the manor’s driveway. As she stepped out of the car, she spied Briar hurriedly making her way towards where Clara was standing. Her expression was carefully blank. 

What is it now? Clara thought, trepidation rising. 

“Has something happened?” she asked as Briar came to a stop in front of her. Briar hesitated but shook her head. 

“Nothing drastic,” she said. Clara’s jaw unclenched. “Although, I thought I should warn you before you step inside. The King of Cordonia arrived here yesterday morning.”

Clara’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he now?” At Briar’s nod, she continued, “and how did dear Cassie take his sudden appearance?”

“She was surprisingly composed through it all. Although,” Briar lowered her voice, “they did spend a rather long time inside the private sitting room last night.”

Clara blinked. Well, that was rather fast…

“And you think they—“

Briar shrugged, mischief sparkling in her eyes even as she kept her face blank. “The staff hasn’t found anything amiss when they came in to clean.”

“Well,” Clara chuckled as they began walking toward the manor, “I wouldn’t be opposed to more grandchildren.”

“But what about their situation?”

Clara pursed her lips, “I expect – no, I’ll demand, if need be – that he’ll treat them right. Goodness knows that Cassie’s been through enough. And little Lucas deserves the world.”

Briar nodded. “Are we going to do anything about this?”

“That depends on what they’ll do about it, Briar,” Clara paused. “That reminds me, is His Majesty coming in today? Cassie is more than a competent Lady of the House, but she’s not one for ceremony.”

Briar smirked. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it. His Majesty stayed the night.”

----

Liam felt a weight settle on the side of the bed. Groggy, he opened his eyes slowly. His vision was flooded with light. Memories of the night before flooded his mind. Lucas and his infectious laugh, his enthusiasm that Liam is certain he inherited from Cassie… and Cassandra herself. Four years and Liam was still amazed by her. The way the flames had played on her featured was seared into his mind. Before his still foggy brain had caught up, a pair of tiny hands had yanked on his duvet.

“Dad! You’re here! Wake up!” his son’s beloved voice cut through the fog still in his head. 

“Lucas, it’s too early. Let him sleep.” another beloved voice said. Liam raised his head and saw Cassie leaning on the door frame. Their eyes met and Liam’s heart beat faster. He smiled at her and she returned a hesitant smile of her own. The early morning sunshine that streamed through the window seemed to make their little corner of the world softer. A bit dreamlike. Liam wanted to pinch himself to confirm that this was real. I’m really here. With them! 

He sat up, the collar of his too-big shirt slipping to his shoulder in the process. It was subtle, but he saw Cassie’s eyes zero in on his clavicle. Her cheeks reddened and Liam couldn’t resist a smirk.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he teased, testing the waters between them. 

“Seen what?” Lucas asked, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“Nothing!” Cassie blurted out. Lucas shrugged, then turned to Liam. 

“Do you like pancakes, Dad?”

Liam let out a soft laugh. Across the room, Cassie smiled, more at ease than yesterday. Liam felt as though his entire world brightened at the sight. 

“I do like pancakes, I admit,” Liam said, as he hands his hand through Lucas’ hair. His son brightened. 

“We got pancakes! Don’t we, Mommy?” Lucas exclaimed as he bounced on the bed. 

“We do, baby.”

“Let’s go get pancakes! Dad, c’mon!” 

“There’s a robe in the closet if you want to wear one. I know Uncle’s clothes are a… bit bigger than what you’re used to.”

Liam shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, we’re just going on to the kitchens.”

“Right.” Cassie breathed out as she looked away, her cheeks still rather pink. 

As Lucas tugged on his hand to get him out of the bed, Liam spied a few maids hurrying along the hallway. Cassie followed his gaze. 

“What the hell?” he heard her mutter as she stared at their retreating backs. 

“Is there something wrong?” Liam asked as Lucas led him to the doorway, the four-year-old oblivious to what they just saw. Liam could hear Lucas’ excited chatter as he shared a questioning glance with Cassie.  

“… and then I’ll show you my Legos, and then we’ll colour, and then we’ll explore, and then…”

Cassie shook her head. “Why don’t you two go-ahead to the kitchen? I better see what’s this about.” 

“There’s no need, dear. I’ve just asked them to run an errand.” 

Both of them turned around. Standing at the landing of the stairs was the Countess of Edgewater herself. Liam saw how her eyes took in the scene. Her eyes first landed on Lucas, who was at that moment, still holding Liam’s hand, then it travelled to Cassie, then to Liam himself and the state of his clothes and the space, or lack of, between him and her grandniece. 

Liam suddenly felt younger. It was as though one of his tutors had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar (metaphorically speaking). He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. For a moment all four of them stood still as though they were rooted to the floor. Then the spell was broken and several things seemed to happen all at once. 

Lucas had let go of his hand and rushed towards the Countess, exclaiming “Grandma!” as he did so. 

Cassandra started and seemed to jump away from Liam before collecting herself and glancing at him, a hint of an apology in her eyes. She then walked rather slowly towards her grandaunt and planted a kiss on her offered cheek.  

Liam suddenly became rather conscious that the Countess had seen him wearing Charles’ sleeping clothes that Cassie had found the night before. If his tutors (or god forbid, his father) saw him at that moment, Liam would be quite certain that they’ll be pursing their lips in disappointment. Maybe even turning away in embarrassment. A king, after all, must appear poised and respectable at all times. 

Well, Liam thought, might as well make the best impression given the circumstances. Liam took a step forward, setting his shoulders as he did so and straightened his back. But before he could get a word in, the Countess, sank into a curtsy and spoke.

“Apologies for not being able to meet you as you arrived Your Majesty. Let me extend the welcome that my niece had offered you yesterday.” With that, she glanced at Cassie, a smirk on her lips. Cassie blushed and Liam, catching the drift of what the countess was assuming, felt his own face heat in response. Recalling all his training, he adopted a pleasant expression and cleared his throat. 

“And I would like to thank you and yours for such a warm welcome. My apologies as well for turning up unannounced.”

“Why’re you all speaking funny?” Lucas asked, frowning at the Countess and his mother. His question served as the knife that cut the tension between the adults. Cassie let out a laugh, Clara’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at Lucas and Liam’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. 

Liam noticed Cassie’s eyes flit between him and her aunt. She took a deep breath, fixed a smile that did not quite reach her eyes and quickly spoke up.

“Well! Now that that’s out of the way, who wants some breakfast?”

“Ooh! Me, Mommy! Me!” Lucas exclaimed as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He perked up and turned towards Liam. “Dad likes pancakes too! Right, Dad?”

Liam nodded and smiled, ears still burning in embarrassment. Cassie nodded and turned to her aunt. 

“Auntie? Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Oh yes, dear, but I would not say no to a cup of tea,” she glanced at Liam. “Although our guest might appreciate a change of clothes before we all head to the kitchen?”

Liam and Cassie both blushed. 

“Auntie—“

“That—“

“There might be some appropriate clothes in Charles’s old room…” Clara trailed off as both Liam and Cassandra spoke at the same time. She raised an eyebrow and Liam seized his chance and spoke up.

“A member of my staff is to bring my suitcase this morning, my lady. He’ll be here any minute now.”

Clara’s raised eyebrow rose even higher, but she nodded. Liam tried not to fidget under her stare. 

“Very well,” she put her hand on Cassie’s arm. “You three go ahead, dear. I’ll just freshen up.”

With another nod to her Liam, she walked past them. Once she was out of earshot, Liam heard Cassie left out a breath. 

“That was—“he began.

“I know,” she replied. She looked at the state of his clothing, a hint of pink still in her cheeks. She cleared her throat, “I could find you a better fitting shirt if you want.”

“If that’s not too much trouble?”

Cassie shook her head. “Nah. I don’t think we want a repeat of what just happened.”

“Yes.” Liam nodded quickly.

“Can you watch Lucas while I look for shirts though?” Cassie asked, hesitantly. Liam was floored. 

“I’d be honoured.”

Cassie’s eyes looked into his for a moment before she nodded with a hint of a smile. Liam’s attention shifted to Lucas, who was looking between his parents, much like he did when Liam first arrived. As Cassie went into another room, Lucas turned to him and asked:

“Are we gonna get pancakes, Dad?” his impatience shining through. 

Liam knelt to his son’s height and smiled. “We’ll get some in a little while.” 

Lucas nodded and leaned in to whisper, “can I get a cookie too?” 

Liam could not restrain his laughter. 

----

Breakfast had been an awkward affair. As she sipped her tea, Cassie sighed. Even Lucas’ cheerful chatter could not mask the tension between her aunt and Liam. There was a chasm between them, with her aunt on one side and her—well, Liam on the other side. 

Cassie was all too aware that she was caught in the middle, the cause of all this tension. Cassie tried her best to serve as a bridge between them. She’d like to take her aunt aside for a private conversation to let her know that she had nothing to worry about. Cassie and Liam had talked. Liam wasn’t and won’t take Lucas away. That’s what matters most to her right now. But Cassie can’t exactly leave Liam alone. ‘Cause I’m the one who welcomed and convinced him to stay here, she thought firmly to herself. The way he was making her feel was decidedly not up for discussion. Or the way he looked earlier… Cassie mentally shook her head. This was not the time for that. Not with her aunt watching them like a hawk.  

Speaking of…

“Well… I’m off for some well-deserved nap, before my secretary arrives,” her aunt stated as she stood up. Cassie lifted her head. Beside her sat Liam, still sipping his morning coffee. His expression had remained pleasant throughout their rather disastrous breakfast. Cassie knew that face. It was his mask, worn during social functions. Cassie felt something sink to her stomach. I’ll talk to him after this. She turned to her aunt.

“I could take care of it for you, Auntie.”

Aunt Clara waved away her offer. “It’s all right, dear,” her aunt turned to Liam. “Apologies for not being able to give you a tour of the estate, Liam. But I daresay Lucas here will give you a better tour.” She said, finishing her words with a smile directed at a still chewing Lucas. The four-year-old nodded viciously. He opened his mouth to answer but Cassie cleared her throat and he promptly closed his mouth. 

All three adults smiled. The mood lightened, the tension loosening for a bit. Cassie shot Liam an encouraging glance (for what exactly, she did not know). 

“There’s no need to apologise, my lady. The hospitality you and yours have shown me is more than enough.”

Clara smiled in response. With an elegant gesture, she swept out of the solarium. Cassie heard Liam let out a breath beside her. 

“That wasn’t so bad.”

Cassie snorted.

“You’ve barely said a word to each other, Liam.”

He nodded, a smile tugging on his lips. “Exactly. Things could have been worse.”

Cassie shook her head, beginning to smile herself. “Ever the optimist.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, ready to banter and for a moment Cassie marvelled at the ease that they’ve managed to fall into. It was a far cry to the way they were yesterday. But before Liam could say more, Lucas interrupted their conversation with a familiar question.

“Can I have my cookie now?” he said as he bounced a little on his seat. Cassie snorted but stood up making her way towards the kitchen.

“Well, since you’ve been a good boy.”

She could hear Lucas’ giggle and the murmur of Liam’s voice before the door closed behind her. Better get one for him too… she thought with the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

It became a full-fledged grin when she returned to find them sitting on the floor of the solarium, Liam folding up a flower and talking to a fascinated Lucas, the remains of their breakfast still on the little table. 

My boys.

For the first time in a long while, Cassie felt light. So this is what contentment feels like. 

Thoughts of possible futures and concerned aunts fled her mind. Let me enjoy this, she thought to whatever higher being there is. Just once. Even for just for a little while.

----

“It’s good to see you again, Lady Cassandra.” 

Cassie nodded and smiled slightly. “You too Bastien. Will you be staying here too?”

For a moment, Bastien shot Liam a glance, an unspoken question in his eyes. Liam pursed his lips but nodded. He felt rather than saw Cassie’s eyes on him. He resisted a sigh. He caught Cassandra’s eye, and she subtly nodded, still able to read his cues after all these years. 

“I’ll tell Briar we’ll have another guest then,” Cassie said, beginning to turn back towards the doors of the manor.

“That won’t be necessary, my lady. I’d be more effective if I stay with the staff.” Bastien said politely. 

Liam opened his mouth to protest. Despite the wariness he still held, Bastien had been a constant source of support and protection to Liam even before he uncovered the conspiracy. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Cassie’s confused expression. Bastien shook his head before Liam or Cassie could protest. 

“Are you sure Bastien?” Liam asked, studying his head of security. Bastien met his eyes and nodded. 

“Right…” Cassie trailed off, uncertain. Liam could almost see her quickly looking between him and Bastien, “I’ll have Briar show you around then.” Her words rose to form a question. 

“Thank you, my lady. I’ll be sure to check with her.”

Cassie tilted her head and asked the question that had sprung to Liam’s mind.

“How d’you – “she paused, still confused before understanding came. “Right. The dinner.”

Oh, Liam thought. Of course. Bastien had met most of the Countess’ staff before the state dinner. 

“Yes, my lady,” Bastien nodded. He then stood in attention, waiting for possible additional orders. Liam and Cassandra shared a glance. 

“Right…” Cassie said once more. “Well… um, I’ll be with Lucas in the gardens.”

Liam turned his body toward her then inclined his head, “I’ll join you in a moment.”

Cassie nodded and with a small wave at Bastien, descended the steps and stepped on the path towards the gardens. Liam watched her go for a moment, the corner of his eyes lifting before he turned his attention to his head of security. Bastien spoke up as soon as Cassie turned the corner, finally out of sight. 

“I’ve also taken the liberty of bringing you the documents that need your approval and seal, sir.”

Liam cleared his throat. “Good thinking Bastien. Now, if you’ll hand that and my suitcase over—“

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Bastien interrupted. Liam sighed. He stepped down the stairs and took hold of his suitcase. “No.”

Bastien nodded, his face carefully neutral. “Then, I’ll be on stand-by should she ask me to leave the premises.”

“Bastien—“

“With your permission, of course.” 

Liam sighed once more. “Very well.”

With a precise bow and a neutral expression, Liam’s long-time bodyguard fell into a step behind him, as was protocol. Liam resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. I don’t even know if she wants to talk about the conspiracy…

-

Later, after he had showered and changed into more fitting clothes, Liam found Cassie by the edge of the lake, sitting on a picnic blanket, in the shelter of a cluster of trees, with a book in her hands. She closed her book once she saw him coming over. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoed and looked around. “This place is beautiful.”

He saw Cassie smile as she looked out into the lake. “Yeah. Very peaceful too. Did you know there was a time when Lucas wouldn’t take a nap unless he was out here? That’s how we started looking at the fish, really.”

Liam lips curved into an echo of a smile. “That must have been fun.”

Cassie’s eyes widened, she opened her mouth and let out a torrent of words. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean to — I wasn’t – I’m so so sorry—“

Liam’s eyes widened, and he rushed to answer. “No! No, really, it’s fine,” he paused and tentatively took her hands. She let him. “I – I’d love to hear more, actually.”

Cassie peered at him from behind her reading glasses, eyes searching his. “I—okay… I think I still have some albums in the house. I could show you some if you’d like.”

Liam let out a breath. He smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

Cassie’s eyes grew wistful. “It’s the least I could do Liam.”

“Cassie—“

“Liam…”

Both looked at each other and cracked a smile. “We’re gonna have to work on that,” Cassie mused. 

Liam looked down, smiling sheepishly. “Heh. Of course, Cassie.” Liam looked around. “Speaking of… where is Lucas?”

Cassie leaned backwards, her arms serving as her support, “with his playgroup. They’ll be back by lunchtime, I think.”

Liam unconsciously checked his watch. We have another half-hour at most then… when he looked back up, Cassie was looking at him with amusement. Liam flushed.

“I—“

“I know,” she said softly, her dark hair left loose, filtered sunlight making some of the black strands shine brown. “It gets awfully silent when he’s not here.” She looked at him and the way he sat on the blanket.

“Liam?”

“Yes?”

“You can relax now y’ know.”

Liam let out a soft laugh but shifted and lay down the blanket without another word. There was a slight breeze. Faintly, he heard bird song among the branches of the tree. Liam closed his eyes for a moment.

“Liam?”

“Yes, Cassie?”

“What’s the deal with Bastien?” Liam opened his eyes. “I know something is going on Liam,” she fixed her dark eyes on him, “and if it has something to do with our son, then I’d like to know.”

Liam took a deep breath, stealing himself. “Last night, I mentioned my father and what he did to you…” Liam looked up and caught Cassie’s nod. He locked eyes with hers and continued, “When you left for New York, I asked the others to help with trying to clear your name. At first, we thought it was just a smear campaign. We ended up discovering a conspiracy…”

----

Later that night…

Clara watched with no small amount of interest as Cassandra came into the dining room with Liam at her side. Between them, holding their hands was Lucas. 

Like an actual family, she mused. She can’t help but smile a little. They deserve a chance at actual happiness. And if Liam is the one who can bring it to them, well... who was she to argue? Maybe Charles is right. This is just me trying to come into terms of having an empty nest once more. 

Clara’s gaze turned to the King of Cordonia. For all of his father’s numerous sins, it’s a wonder that this one turned out to be a good egg. Perhaps they will be in good hands. Liam had managed to defy Clara’s (admittedly low) expectations. Who knew that Charles’ insistence on that country ended up as a good thing?

Watching the little family, Clara felt a dawning sense of both happiness and melancholy. Her family was finally safe and happy, that’s true enough. And it was about time… but on the other hand, she was certain that the little family would want to move to Cordonia. Away from her and Edgewater. It was almost like losing her sister all over again. Clara mentally shook her head. Old age was turning her into a weeping sentimental mess, which will not do at all for the Countess of Edgewater. 

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and stood up. After a few minutes spent observing the formalities, they settled into the first course of the night. For a little while, silence reigned. Even Lucas was silent, enthusiastically eating his food while the adults divided their attention between their dinner and at each other. Clara observed the way her niece and the king acted around each other. Cassandra ate her food and stared about the room, a pensive air about her. Liam, on the other hand, was alert but noticeably more at ease with her than that morning. The way they acted earlier made it seem like they actually been intimate with each other. Looking at the way these two look at each other, Clara can’t really rule it out. I really won’t say no to more grandchildren… as long as they have figured out their situation. 

“So…” Clara trailed off. Both Cassandra and Liam snapped their gazes towards hers. Clara tried to hide her amusement. She turned to Liam, “How have you been enjoying Edgewater, Your Majesty?”

Liam smiled, his eyes giving away nothing. “It is a wonderful estate, my lady. Truly a credit to you and yours.”

Clara affected a casual shrug, secretly pleased with the praise. “The garden as it is today was designed by one of our ancestors. We’ve done our best to maintain it since.”

“She was Auntie’s namesake,” Cassandra piped up, amusement replacing her previous expression. “One of the more famous ancestors of ours did some great work for the English crown back in the 19th century or something.”

Liam’s lips quirked into a smile as he shared a look with Cassie. “That’s quite fascinating, my lady.”

Clara smirked, “I suppose it is. I think her portrait is given a prominent place in the picture gallery. Cassandra here could give you a tour.” 

Her niece shot her a look that clearly said what are you doing? Clara just smiled and winked in return. 

Liam looked between her and her niece. His tone was slightly placating when he said, “As fascinating as that is, my lady… I wouldn’t want to intrude—“

“But there are ghosts there!” Lucas suddenly added. “Mommy knows how to fight them, Dad. She’ll hold your hand and they all disappear!”

Clara nodded sagely, trying to hold back her laughter. “I’m afraid Lucas is right. He’s the expert in things like those, aren’t you dear?”

“I am!” Lucas declared proudly. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt…” Cassie said through a blossoming smile. 

“Of course it wouldn’t!” Clara answered. She then smiled at Lucas. “You two can go on that tour after dinner while Lucas and I spend some time together.”

“Yes! Can we have hot chocolate, Grandma?”

“Of course, dear.”

Across the table, Cassandra and Liam were engaged in a whispered conversation. Clara allowed herself a melancholic smile before turning her attention to Lucas. 

I was right. It was only a matter of time. 

----

“… and here is Auntie’s namesake, ” Cassie said, gesturing towards a well-preserved painting of an elegant woman. 

Liam tilted his head, “She’s not quite what I was expecting.”

Cassie shrugged. “Her mother was from India, brought to London to be trained as an opera singer. She’s illegitimate, but some things happened and she ended up becoming the heir. Auntie really looks up to her.”

Liam shot her a questioning look, which she answered by saying, “She left behind a collection of journals. Some historians made a documentary about her a few years ago, I think.”

Liam smiled, amusement in his eyes, “It seems like your aunt is not the only one who admires her…”

Cassie can’t help but smile. “Well… she’s fascinating so…” she trailed off. 

“Much like her descendant.”

Cassie turned her head, trying to hide her growing smile. “I’ll tell Auntie you said that.”

She could hear the amusement in Liam’s voice when he replied, “I’m sure your aunt won’t object to me complimenting you.”

Cassie snorted. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

There was a pause. Cassie could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The moonlight streamed through the windows. She remembered her aunt’s gaze, the questions and the expectations that were lurking in her eyes. She thought of their conversation by the lake, of how it changed everything. Can’t just things settle down? Can’t I just enjoy this peace? Stay in this bubble and—then what? In a flash, she imagined several possible futures. All of them like dominos falling one after another. She suddenly felt caged. As though the room had become too stuffy. Cassandra suddenly felt the gazes of her distant ancestors bearing down on her. Generations of her family. Her history, her roots. A part of her, yes, but not the only ones. She turned to Liam.

“Let’s go.”

Despite his confusion, he let Cassie take his hand and drag him out into the little balcony at the end of the corridor. 

“That’s better,” she breathed out when they arrived outside.

“Cassie?” 

She turned to face him, their faces were closer than she had thought. “Sorry, I just—well… um—it felt stuffy in there and—“

Liam hesitated before placing his hands on both her arms. Gentle and secure at the same time. “Cassie, breathe.”

She took a deep breath, the cool night breeze a relief from the room they just vacated. 

“Yesterday and today was quite a lot.”

Liam let out a soft laugh, more like an exhale than a chuckle. “Yes, that’s true enough.”

“It’s been a lot, and I forgot to mention some things to you.”

Liam’s soothing expression morphed into confusion. Cassandra forged ahead before he could say anything. 

“And before something else comes up, I just want to say… I—I really missed you.”

Liam lifted his hands to cradle her face. He slowly leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“I really missed you too,” he murmured into her temple. Cassie surged forward and wrapped her arms around him. She breathed him in and melted into his embrace. Liam murmured reassurances into her hair as one of his hands stroked her back. 

They stayed fixed in that position for a few heartbeats. Cassie sniffled and pulled away.

“God, I’m a mess.”

“No, Cassie…” Liam murmured, wiping her remaining tears off her face.

Cassandra gently shook her head. Words rushed out of her in a torrent. “I missed you so much and I made you miss so much of Lucas growing up and—“

“And I’m also at fault, Cassie.” Liam interrupted gently. Cassie looked up and almost drowned by the tenderness she saw in his eyes. “Καρδιά μου… I’ve missed you too. And it’s all right, we’ll figure this out together.”

Cassie smiled through her teary eyes. “Together.”

Their eyes met. Slowly… tenderly, they drew closer to each other. Their lips met and Cassie’s last thought was an astonished oh before all her thoughts focused on and became consumed by a single thought. By a single person. 

She had finally come home.

----

Four years ago

“Well… this is me,” Cassandra said as she and Liam stopped at her apartment complex. The two of them had been walking in comfortable silence ever since they got off the boat. It was as though they had silently agreed that any noise would shatter the delicate bubble they created. As though words would bring about their inevitable farewells.

To say that the night had been a whirlwind adventure would be an understatement. For a moment, she felt as though she had ended up in one of Daniel’s sappy romantic novels. Meeting a stranger who turned out to be a prince, midnight boat rides, and a kiss in front of Lady Liberty seemed more plausible in books than in real life. Not for the first time that night, Cassie resisted the urge to pinch herself. She was coaxed out of her thoughts by Liam’s voice.

“Thank you for your company, Cassandra. Tonight has been incredible…” he trailed off as their eyes met. Their eyes seemed to hold a conversation in silence. 

Cassandra did not break their stare as he drew closer. Her heart was beating so hard, she was surprised it wasn’t visible through her shirt. He was mesmerising her as he did in front of Lady Liberty. The kiss they shared on the boat flashed through her mind. 

I don’t want that to be our last kiss, she thought through the haze in her mind. 

If this is our last night, I don’t want it to end.

Please don’t let it end.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. Cassie stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Liam responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her (she’d swoon if she wasn’t so preoccupied) and returning her kiss. 

She did not know how long they stayed that way. Time was relevant anyway. After goodness knows how long, she reluctantly pulled away. Liam leaned his forehead against hers as he did before on the boat. They were both breathing hard. 

For a moment they just stood there, breathing each other in. Sharing each other’s warmth. This time, it was Liam who broke the silence.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Cassie huffed out a laugh, “I try.”

Liam leaned back to look her in the eye. One of his hands cradled her face. 

“I—I’m glad to have met you, Cassandra.” His smile could not mask the wistful look in his eyes. “And I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. I’ll never forget tonight.”

Later, when she had finally gone to bed, lips still tingling, Cassie conceded that tonight couldn’t have been a story from one of Daniel’s novels. After all, the girl usually ends up with the guy in those stories while Cassie probably won’t see Liam again. 

Her heart sank at that thought.

----

The Challenger

Meanwhile, in Cordonia…

“It is confirmed, sir. King Liam boarded a flight to the United Kingdom yesterday morning.”

“And the palace?”

“It seemed that he left it in the Duchess’s care and with the two other ladies. They won’t be much of a threat.”

“Good. I’ll send word when we’re ready.”

There was a click as the call disconnected. The man holding it casually strolled down the street, stopping by a bridge, seemingly enjoying the view of the Palace in the light of the setting sun. With a casual gesture, eyes still fixed on the palace, he dropped the burner phone onto the gushing river below. 

The King out of the country, seemingly in a hurry. Had the Countess finally struck gold with her campaign? He huffed out a laugh. The Countess’ desperate attempts had turned out to be useful as well as amusing. At first, he struggled with how to use it to his advantage. Turns out, it had its uses despite being an annoyance most of the time. It forced Liam to show his hand. To basically reveal who was in his inner circle. The new king was crafty, he’ll give him that, and if he hadn’t already been watching and waiting for his opportunity, he would have missed it. 

A car passing by snapped him from his thoughts. There will be time for musing later when he’s finally on the throne he was promised. When the tyrant’s legacy is destroyed. When his family is finally avenged. 

Cordonia might appear strong in front of the world, but he’d seen the cracks on the wall. A kingdom with no heir and no queen. A well-known noble slowly but surely chipping away at its reputation. Unstable and ripe for the picking. He really ought to thank Liam before all of this is over. Perhaps he’ll do it before putting a bullet through his head. 

Just like his father did to mine. 

Constantine might have thought he’d severed all of the hydra’s heads. He grinned, teeth bared. How fortunate it is then, that he missed one.

With a self-satisfied glint in his eye, Anton Severus turned and continued his walk, his form blending in with the shadows that the twilight had brought.  

#

notes: 

the flashback scene was based on and follows the non-diamond option in chapter one of TRR book 1

Καρδιά μου - my love (got this from a google search as I’m not a native greek speaker) should it be an error or if i used it incorrectly, i apologize 

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[thousandyearsorsmth]

Full Moon

Prologue

The last time someone had mentioned Bella Swan was six months ago. Right after the accident. She had apparently had some big fight with her dad, Charlie, and had decided to move back with her mom. But before it could get to that, her boyfriend, Edward Cullen, had gone to her hotel, trying to convince her to go back to Forks. That’s where the accident happened. Stubborn as always, Bella wouldn’t listen to her Edward, and when running away from him, she had fallen down a lot of stairs, and was thrown out a window. She survived, but the fall had been nasty – And while in the hospital she had apparently discovered her love for Edward. Decided she couldn’t live without him. So, instead of going back to Forks, the two of them had run away together.

Charlie was furious, of course, but Bella wouldn’t tell him where they were – Just that she was safe, and that he shouldn’t be mad at Edward. Of course he was just that, mad at Edward. That was an understatement, he was furious. But after months of letters, Charlie had seemed to give up. Perhaps he was convinced that Bella would somehow someday see the light and come back to Forks. Without Edward. But after six months, everyone in Forks seemed to realize, that Bella was gone, and wasn’t coming back. Everyone except Charlie. He kept her room just like she had left it. Frozen in time.

The Cullen family had left too. Perhaps the shame of their son, taking away the police chiefs’ daughter was too much for them. Carlisle had quit his job, and one day all the kids just stopped going to school. Now there was no sign of them, or Bella. It was like they never existed.

Except they did, and they had taken Bella away with them. Well, at least Edward had – And he hated him for it. Jacob Black hated him for it. Of course, in the start he didn’t really know what had happened. He believed the story that Charlie and his dad had told him, that Bella was a silly teenager who thought she couldn’t live without her high school boyfriend. It was believable – Happened all the time.

But then, a few weeks after Bella had gone away, something happened. Inside of him. He began changing. He didn’t like it; he didn’t like it at all. First it had been the fever, then the pain and then came the shapeshifting. At first, he didn’t understand what was happening, he thought he had gone crazy and was dreaming. Hallucinating. Enter Sam Ulley; That much older guy he had always thought was kind of creepy. The one who always looked at him like he was waiting for something. But this time he wasn’t Sam. He was a wolf, a werewolf, a shapeshifter – And so was Jacob.

All the stories his dad and the council had told him was true. Every single one of them. It didn’t take Jacob long to figure out what that meant. The cold ones, vampires, they existed too. The Cullens. Never had he felt such a hatred towards anyone or anything, but suddenly he had felt it deep down in his bones. His whole being hated them. Hated him. Hated him for taking her away. He knew it, deep down. Bella had known about them and now she was with him. Probably one of them. The worst part was that he had helped her, back then at the beach. He had helped her figure out what they were. It made him sick. If there was anything, anything he could take back, it would be that.

He wouldn’t have told her. No, he wouldn’t even have talked to her. She would just have been that one childhood memory. The beautiful girl from his childhood that he would secretly have had a crush on. The girl that moved away with her high school boyfriend. But now, now she was a tiny hole in his chest. One that would probably never heal. Not fully.