#he thrives off of being able to fully control someone and actually have power in something for once

[erwinsvow]

i have this entire fleshed out shy reader lore for i guess a hypothetical universe where shy reader dated jj and/or pope first but eventually they broke up because of the whole season one treasure plotline not even because of a lack of love but mostly just her feeling neglected and alone. right at the end of all of that is when she would meet rafe just when he’s in that season two craziness/spiral and they become so insanely codependent and just around there somewhere when the pogues hate rafe even more they find out he’s dating shy reader and it’s just a whole other layer. so basically obx writers let me into the room.

[stardustedseas]

uhhhhmmmm everyone please still pretend im normal and that i hate walker very much

18+ nsfw

cw: age gap, daddy kink, nsfw, guilt

gender neutral but afab reader

walker is in his late 30s-early 40s, reader is no younger than 21

just a couple little random hcs that doesnt fully fit in with the rest of my yap but john thought it was adorable that when you took a swig of alcohol and you make a disgusting look, still not used to drinking yet, and he absolutely teased you for it. sometimes, hed chose the strongest thing for shots and make sure to kiss you with tongue after drinking it, just to see the way youd jerk back and scrunch up your nose. you always made a funny sound and slapped his chest, calling him an asshole as he laughed loudly and tried to pull you back in for another kiss, saying he's just trying to help you get used to the flavor.

he kinda hates calling you his girlfriend/boyfriend because it sounds so juvenile, youre both grown adults and it makes him really feel the age gap, so he absolutely prefers you call eachother partners

-

while john didnt feel shame in your relationship, he loves you so much and would gladly tell the whole world, he did feel guilt sometimes. guilt that hes twice your age- pretty much old enough to even be your father. guilt when you would look up at him with those big doe eyes and listen intently as he spoke, taking in his every word because hes so much older and more experienced in life than you. guilt that he enjoys your naivety and showing you pleasure you never knew existed and teaching you how to make him feel the same. guilt that despite being a father, hes addicted to the way youd writhe around under his bruising grip and sob out 'daddy' instead of his name.

walker knows your relationship comes with certain responsibilities that his previous ones didnt, that while you two are on equal ground most the time, he still just has power that you dont, and you have vulnerability he doesnt. he knows that while he has long since learned pretty much all there is to know about himself, you are still coming into your own and figuring yourself out. it scares him that he can have such a huge impact on you without even trying, but hes also honored that you trust him to not take advantage of you, to help you and love you. theres a certain intimacy in it, the way you come to him for comfort and advice while still being your own independent person, in the way he can come to you for the same even if its a little different.

john is a caretaker and protector at heart and he loves the fact that while you are definitely a grown ass person who can take care of themselves, he can still be that for you without it being weird or like hes actually your parent. and yeah sometimes he has the bad habit of being a little overboard, its never in toxic way. he never tries to police what you can and cant do, he never infantalizes you or tries to take control of your life. he just worries. he is absolutely a worrier and can sometimes be a little pushy or think he knows better than everyone else, but its something hes working on with your help.

that being said, sometimes its fun to pretend. fun to pretend that he actually has some control over your life and gets to tell you what to do. its kinda therapeutic for you both ngl. john is a natural born leader who thrives when being in charge but doesnt always get a lot of that with his day to day life, which he hates. you can feel like you have *too much* control and the pessure gets overwhelming when you just dont know what to do at times, which you hate. so, sometimes its nice to play pretend and slip into roles that bring more comfort with eachother. being able to just let go and turn your mind off, not having to think about how your future is in your hands now and no one can really lead the way for you anymore. its relaxing to let someone else take the reigns and decide what to do for a little while. and for john? he finally can feel some peace at knowing hes fully in charge and doesn't have to worry about someone else coming in and ruining his plans or taking control. he can tell you what to do and you do it, no hesitation, no arguing, no questioning his authority.

of course its not like you have no say in anything tho, walker never does anything you two havnt discussed in detail and always makes sure you know that you can say no at any time and hell stop instantly. when you two have your sessions, he may play the dominant role and you the submissive, calling him daddy or sir, but you both know he isnt above you in any way that isnt just physically.

anyways, Johnathan F Walker absolute Thrives on the power you give him. few things get his dick harder than having you bent over his lap with your bare ass and pussy out, moaning and whining the number of times hes slapped them because you were bratty earlier. he loves holding you down with a strong hand on the back of your neck or between your shoulder blades. he thinks you look absolutely ethereal gazing up at him all teary eyed and begging for his forgiveness, swearing youll be good while both of you knowing its a lie. you arent sorry at all and youll be back to giving him sass by the next morning, not that hed have it any other way. but for now, he gets to play the strict daddy role and 'punish' you despite the wet patch on his thigh where your hips are desperately trying to hump into him proves that this is far from actual discipline to you.

being an actual parent has given john the ability to master the dissapointed father look and voice too, which you absolutely love.

anyways, he isnt ashamed of your relationship but you both do try to keep it more under wraps, his public image already isnt great, so him going through a divorce then showing up with someone half his age,,,, doesn't look great and his pr team isnt eager to deal with that. besides, john is more of a private man and likes to keep that part of his personal life personal, and its safer for you that way too. it does get a little annoying when he is having his turn with his son and people assume youre his kid too tho 😭 there have been more times than hed like to admit where you three are out and people think youre walker jrs (idk the kids name-) sibling rather than his other parent and youve had to explain that no, you arent, because otherwise it would get real awkward real fast when john kisses you on the lips.

speaking of his son, walker loves how accepting you are about the situation and how you dont try to alienate his son or hate his ex. you understand that they have a long history together and despite not ending on the best terms, he still loves his son with his whole heart and cares deeply about olivia. maybe you arent besties with her, but you are always kind and welcoming, never giving her any hate nor trying to act like she isnt the mother of walkers son. john was kinda hesitant to introduce you to them at first ngl,worried that despite knowing the situation, youd end up getting weird about it later on. but he feels stupid for it now, you and jr took so fast and you treat him like your own. sometimes when you visit during johns turn, you will just shove your bag into his hands with a breif kiss before swooping up jr like your partner isn't even there lmfao he will whine at you (he will also deny whining) and say you don't love him and are just using him for the baby (which you playfully agree with) but nothing brings him more joy than the fact you already love his son so much. lowk makes him want another

-----

[izzythehutt]

What are your thoughts about Anakin/Vader and Palpatine relationship, I believe there are many unexplored nuances and dark themes there but also complicated?

They have a unique relationship (for Palpatine), in that Anakin is the only person whose love and devotion actually matters to him. He would probably couch it in terms of "absolute loyalty", but he knows what Vader feels for him is love, and that A.) it's necessary for their relationship to function B.) he has to continue consciously fostering it and C.) at some deep and subconscious level, he enjoys it.

I think there's a part of him that gets off on manipulating people in general, and the more powerful/dangerous the person, the more enjoyable it is for him (see also: him cackling as he throws the Senate at Yoda.) Since Anakin has the most raw potential of any being in SW and is "The Chosen One" (which I fully believe at some level Palpatine buys off on), he's the one that Palpatine gets the most pleasure out of controlling. While at the end of the day everyone in the Galaxy is an object for him, Anakin is the one whose loyalty he spent the most time and effort cultivating by far. Theirs is an intimate and personal relationship that he really isn't shown to have with anyone—we get glimpses of it with Padmé and Dooku, but that's as close as any of his relationships come.

There's this narcissism classification system that categorizes people in terms of providing "fuel" and as "fuel matrices", and I firmly believe that Vader is Palpatine's "Intimate Partner Primary Source." Vader provides Palpatine with a captive audience to as much of his true self as he's willing to show anyone. If there's one thing he enjoys, it's gloating. The fact that he's comfortable letting Vader into his Sith world to the degree that he (Anakin) would be able to piece together the degree to which Palpatine manipulated him during the Wars shows an astounding level of confidence in his power in the relationship.

There's a lot of "takes" on and interpretations of their relationship, but I tend to think Palpatine was more manipulative and faux-kindly than shocking Vader with Force lightning all the time. Mostly because it's more interesting, and in a way, more intensely effed up, though I also feel like it makes more sense for their established dynamic in the prequels. Fear would not be enough to motivate Vader to do what Palpatine wants him to do. Anakin is a person who tends to be more motivated by personal loyalty than to abstractions or even his own overarching goals. He needs someone to love, and the Emperor knows this. He's always understood that Obi-Wan and Padmé were his prime competition for primary loyalty.

The paradoxical aspect of their relationship is that while Palpatine thrives on Vader's devotion, because he himself is incapable of actual love, there's a part of him that is incapable of respecting Vader as an apprentice because of it. I suspect that he finds Vader's paternal reasons for finally getting the guts to go up against him distasteful.

If Luke had killed Vader and turned, Palpatine probably would have been low-key disappointed with what he'd gotten and wished he'd kept the OG model, as defective as it was. I tend to think he would have enjoyed turning Leia more, as she's a weird combo of both of her parents, his favorite playthings (Padmé and Palpatine's weird relationship is underrated.)

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

My mom is the child of divorce and came out as queer in the 80s, immediately kicked out of the house when she did so. Her father had the kind of money that allowed him to spend the rest of his life financially abusing his children who had been so badly abused their entire upbringing that they could barwly function in the world.

My mother worked full time and raised me on her own and never had the money to pay our bills, and when her company laid everyone off, her father offerred her a lifeline: I'll pay you your salary, but if I say jump you ask how high.

Within 8months my mother had been taken from our home by ambulance four times due to stress-induced organ failure and was so near death that she had to spend a week on IV fluids before the hospital discharged her the last time.

When he died, my grandfather didn't leave either of his children a penny that wasn't offered under the tight supervision of someone else (literally, he left his 40yr old son a TRUST FUND that would never mature and his 55yr old daughter absolutely nothing). He intentionally held his money hostage from both of his children their entire lives as a way of ensuring he could control them when he wanted, and it worked because neither child was ever able to establish real independence or financial stability, at least not alone (my mother and her wife are now fairly stable because of my step-mother's job).

I think people hear this acknowledgement and think somehow that people are suggesting this exempts children of wealthy families from their actions in life (perhaps in part because we sometimes operate under frameworks where lacking privilege "justifies" certain otherwise intolerable actions?) rather than being able to hear what's actually being said: hierarchy is complex, and those who thrive on the subjugation of others by hierarchy will do this with EVERYONE in their lives, not just people they are fully alienated from. If they have power over you, you are at risk, inherently.

As a kid, when your parents are poor, you're poor. If they don't have money, that means none of you have money. But if someone's parents are rich, that doesn't necessarily mean the kid is. Sometimes rich peoples' kids aren't rich kids, they're just some rich freak's exotic pets that can talk but aren't allowed to.

[starbornsinger]

Elriel/Gwynriel/Elucien Theory Time :)

Ok so in regards to the Az POV chapter, I have some thoughts. This is super long and detailed and also tearing down ships, so uh, beware.

⚠️ACOSF spoilers (duh)⚠️

So I was re-reading the thing and as I was reading the conversation between Az and Rhys, it kind of hit me. I used to be an Elriel shipper until ACOSF, and I was really all for it.

But I don't think they're in love.

See, earlier in the chapter, Az is thinking about how jealous he is of the other couples. We know he isn't very lucky in love, and seeing Elain and her mate and their mating bond upsets him. I think he fancies Elain because she's beautiful and sweet, but I don't think he's in love with her. I think she's another thing he can't have, and he feels frustrated and it only makes him want her more. Because he thinks, why shouldn't he have her? Why is the Mother so cruel as to deny him love? And he thinks, "well all my other brothers have Archeron mates, why don't I? It must be a mistake!"

I think what Azriel's biggest issue is though, is that he wants love so bad, he's willing to risk it all for the first girl he feels attraction too. It also feels relevant that the primary thing we see in his POV is his physical attraction to her, his sexual attraction. We don't see much of how he thinks she's so sweet or so clever or so gentle, but instead how nice her tits are and how badly he wants to kiss and fuck her. I think he doesn't particularly want Elain, and while he likes her, I think what he really wants is love. True love, just like his brothers and friends. He thinks the Mother must be wrong because they both got Archeron sisters while he didn't, and his attraction to Elain makes him wish they were Mates so he could finally have that true love that's entirely his own.

But she's not. And he can't. I think what Azriel wants most isn't Elain. He wants her sexually, and he admires her and has a crush on her, but the thing he focuses on and gives him the most emotion is that she has a Mate and he doesn't, and that everyone does but him. I think he wants someone like Elain and wants to feel happy, but I think he doesn't exactly want Elain. When he thinks of her, he doesn't seem to be truly in love as we've seen other SJM couples are. And sure, it's early, but it's also been like— 2 years. I don't think they're in love sadly, I think Azriel just wants to move on from Mor and finally find love. He has a type, and when he found someone who loosely fit into the mold of his ideal partner, he jumped at it because he's desperate to have someone love him. All his life, he's struggled with self-love and love from others, and I think that it's deeply affected his relationship with love itself.

Physical attraction and desire and interest isn't love. And the idea of her being mated already only makes him mad— that of course the first girl he likes for the first time in 500 years, of course the girl that could help him move on from Mor, is mated. I think that only makes him feel more passionate towards her; and Rhys notes how he seems to think he has a claim to her, when he doesn't. It makes Az angry, not because Rhysand thinks he's being possessive and reckless, but because it's true. He genuinely can't have her.

As for Elain, I think she's far too hesitant to be with him. She reminds me of Daisy in The Great Gatsby, and how she claims to love Jay but she won't leave Tom, or jilt him. Now this is a different situation, because Daisy was selfish and didn't want to give up her comforts and stability and fame. Elain, on the other hand, doesn't seem ready to have a serious relationship with Az. I think she is still severely affected by Graysen's rejection, and is still clearly not over him. I don't think she's ready to accept Az fully and be with him, and I also don't think she's ready to reject her mating bond with Lucien.

I don't know 100% what's going on with Elain, but what I do know is that clearly she is intrigued by Lucien in some capacity. Ok Elriel shippers, don't come for me, but there are several scenes in which Elain seems to want to talk to Lucien, or whatever the heck. But also seems disinterested, like when she dismisses his Solstice gifts and doesn't speak to him.

However, I don't think she's resentful towards him exactly, or at least that isn't the main reason she's like this. While we know he was helping Tamlin lowkey, Feyre and the IC all understood he was on their side, and was their friend. So it seems kind of odd to still bear a grudge against him, but who knows.

But funnily enough, she has yet to reject their mating bond. If she's so disinterested, or hates him so much, why hasn't she turned him down? Mother, she's barely spoken to him at all. I think the obvious reason behind her disdain or distancing from Lucien is her connection to Graysen and her human life. Of all the sisters, Elain has not yet adapted to or accepted that she is Fae— or if she has, she's sure as hell not happy about it. Even Nesta in ACOSF mentioned how she actually likes her ears now, and we know Feyre has totally accepted being Fae. But with Elain, she had the most human connected life of them all, and to have it taken away from her is shitty.

For Elain, her happiness seems to come from a love of gardening, of family, of people. She has very little human things to hold onto, and adding a Mating bond to the mix right as she's made Fae is like she's had all her humanity stripped. She doesn't hate Lucien, she hates the bond. She dislikes that it's chained her to someone and taken away her choices, which we know is a big deal for the sisters after being imprisoned, kidnapped, and Made. I think Elriel is an infatuation, because even though she doesn't love Az, he's helping her rebound from Graysen (and giving her control and power over her love life). He's a choice she (can't really) make, but a choice nonetheless. With Lucien, she feels she has no choice with him, and no control over her obvious attraction I say obvious because mates have a primal attraction of some level to each other , and is probably afraid that accepting the Mating bond will remove any last connections she has to who she used to be, and the human she feels she really is.

But she also hasn't rejected it, because I think she realizes that Lucien is a genuine and kind and hot guy, and that rejecting him would be a stupid idea. He's been very patient and very kind and accepting, and has always given her the freedom of choice when it comes to the bond. I think Lucien is the kind of guy that would be very easy to fall in love with, and I think Elain sees that and knows it.

Also, I think with ACOSF, it feels relevant that Cassian pointed out specifically how Elain looked beautiful in black at the ball, but it looked horribly wrong on her. With SJM the devil is always in the details, and I think it was a clearly accentuated bit of symbolism. Although Elain looks beautiful, the black dress wasn't for her. And although Elriel is very sweet, it won't work out. She won't thrive in the Night Court, or with Azriel. Az doesn't challenge her or meet her as an equal (like all other SJM ships), and they don't push each other to be better or to accept themselves or whatever etc etc.

And I really used to like Elriel, but I think that surprisingly, Elain will be the one who says "stop, I can't do this" to Az. I think she knows she isn't ready, and I think she knows they aren't meant to be. Even if a Mating bond was put in place between her and Lucien, I still think their relationship wouldn't work because they're both too insecure, too closed off, too non-communicative, and too stagnant together to be a healthy or good match. I think with Elain they would struggle to understand each other even if they were fond of each other and can relate on some level, but at its rawest form I think they won't truly be able to be themselves with each other.

With Elain, Azriel's shadows— a key part of him— disappear. While I initially thought, awww that's so cute, she's a light in his life, I soon realized I was wrong. Az's shadows are not just a part of him, they're an extension of him, of his will and subconscious and emotions. So Elain chasing them away, while chasing away the shadows and darkness seems cute, isn't a good thing. Most of the time with shadows, we think "ew bad!" Because they have an inherent connotation of negativity or sorrow or depression or darkness etc etc. And while this is partially true, Azriel's shadows and darkness are a part of him. His sadness and struggles are a part of him. And his shadows aren't just representative of that, they're also a representation of how he overcame his abuse and turned that fire (pun unintended) and anger and trauma into something beautiful and powerful and a weapon. I think they can serve as an armor and a shield, and while that's not good, I also don't think they should fully disappear.

More on that: with Azriel's shadows, we know they're a part of him, right? So I think an important part of self is self-regulation. Rather than be consumed entirely by shadow, or totally exposed to the light, I think he just needs his shadows to be calm and present, but not controlling or hiding. I think the whole "Elain bringing him out of the shadows" bit sounds cute at first, but then you have to think of it like this. In order to be with Elain, he would have to change. He couldn't be a spy or a shadowsinger or a torturer, and he couldn't be dark and introverted. With her, he has to push that aside. Those are key parts of him, key parts that would have a big impact on their relationship. Elain can't be with someone with so much blood on their hands or a history of violence or darkness. We know that, because we know that sort of thing upsets her and she doesn't like it.

Azriel can't just be himself with her, he has to become someone else. And while he's attracted enough to not care, after awhile, that grows exhausting. Being in love and not being your true self, all of it, is exhausting. And while some might argue "why can't he be his true self?!" well my slime, I think we both know that even if we wanted him to, Elain would be silently resigned about it. I don't think— no, I know— Elain can't be with someone like Azriel. Even if they have feelings, even if they have lust or affection, it isn't love. They aren't in love, and they won't work out no matter how much we want it to.

Onto Elain: with Elain, this all ties back to what Cassian said in Hewn City. She looks beautiful in black, but it's wholly wrong for her. The Night Court is wrong for her, and darkness is wrong for her. While some yin-yang relationship tropes can work very well, I don't think this will. She doesn't like the darkness or accept it, and she doesn't want to be a part of it. I think the Night Court is good and happy for her when she makes her own little garden world, and only then, really. It's like living in the middle of the desert and only thinking of the beach: it's not the right place for her.

I think the Spring Court needs her, and I think she needs it. Here's more on that.

So we've seen the set up and execution of the fall of the Spring Court. We know that it's in shambles and is weak and needs a new/better leader than Tampon. I feel like SJM is setting things up for a new book focused in the Spring Court, because in a lot of ways, it's becoming the centerpiece for action in Prythian (aside from the Night Court). I genuinely believe that as Tamlin's second, Lucien will take over the Spring Court as High Lord. He doesn't fit in with Autumn, didn't fit in with Night, and wasn't really a part of Spring. But with Spring, it was where he was happy, where he felt safe, and the home he chose. Chosen homes and chosen families are a big deal for SJM, and I think that Lucien will return to the Spring Court to try and help it, because Mother knows it needs it. I think Elain belongs there, not only because she needs to be in an environment suited to her, but because she needs to heal.

We've seen a theme of helping others heal in order to heal ourselves, and I think a good book idea (and what I think an Elain book would be about), is healing the Spring Court and helping it. Elain is a gardener. She wants to see things grow and blossom, wants to get her hands dirty and dig in! But she can't do that in the NC. I think she needs something new and fresh and blossoming that she can help and tend to, and I think the person that can be at her side for that is Lucien. I think with Azriel, she can't see growth and life and flowers. He's a different kind of person, far too different, and the two wouldn't mesh well. Elain isn't like Persephone and Azriel isn't like Hades; although she's flowers and he's death and they're attracted to each other, they don't fully accept those roles and cross into each other's. Elain could never be a killer or someone who wears black or thrives in a darker place, and Azriel couldn't be someone who is in the full heat of the light and wear bright colors and be cheerful and flowery. In a dream world, yes, but I think in this one, no. SJM loves to create realistic relationships and realistic relationship conflict, and I think we'll see this here. Even though they want it to work, and in theory it should, it won't. I think they know it too. Azriel's shadows vanish when she's around, and Elain struggles to feel comfortable in the darkness and Night Court, and fit in with the others in the black dress that is wholly un-Elain.

I also think that this relationship doesn't bring development to the table. The forbidden love concept is adorable and a trope I love, but this love isn't one that will push them to grow. Azriel can feel loved and happy, but can he feel fully accepted? Can he stop being ashamed of his shadows, of his violence? Of who he is? Can Elain break out of her shelf and be more assertive, and truly grow and change? Can she be herself and be happy? The answer is a sad no. Their relationship is sweet and cute, but it won't truly work. I genuinely believe Lucien is a better match for Elain, and while the Cauldron isn't always right (like Rhysand's parents), it usually is. If he isn't, then I'm all for independent Elain.

Now onto the moment you've all been waiting for: who should Az be with?

Gwyn. :)

[typemoonconfessions]

Mod Lolly: ALRIGHT *rips off shirt* HERE WE GO

so first off, “he’s such a godawful asshole” exactly. Insert persona 5 that’s the best part meme here. He is arrogant. He’s evil. He’s the literal worst. You just want to punch him. Beautiful. All positives. Villains are incredibly sexy. 

look how smug and diabolical he is!!! 

flawless, literally doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. thinks he owns the place. bitch. look at the muscles of his neck and his tiddy peaking through under his shirt!!!! slut!!! whore!!! (affectionate)

^^^^^^^ THIS POSE!!!! THIS POSE RIGHT HERE! LITERALLY THE SEXIEST THING ANYONE CAN EVER DO!!! he’s powerful and he knows it. his arrogance is actually backed up by something. 

YOU ARE SO EVIL. I WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE AND THEN KISS YOU YOU STUPID BASTARD. 

and that just makes it even more satisfying when he finally gets his ass handed to him purely because of his own arrogance 

HE’S ANGRY!!! HE CAN’T BELIEVE HE WOULD LOSE TO SOMEONE WEAKER THAN HIM BUT HE DID BECAUSE HE’S AN IDIOT!!!

the hottest thing in the world is a character who thinks they’re above everything and never showing weakness then suddenly being in a position where they’re forced to show weakness and are no longer in control. vulnerability in a character that seems above it!!! hubris babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Ok so that’s what makes gil hot as a villain. but despite appearances archer gil is not always a villain. or at least, not 100% evil 100% of the time.

hollow ataraxia, emiya gohan, and strange fake all show that gil is actually really soft and patient towards kids (you know when they’re not being used as fuel for his mana). the local fuyuki kids love hanging out with him. he’s fun to be around! he lets them play with the stuff he buys. the kids even tease him about not knowing what’s cool and popular just like the kids in uruk do to casgil. 

when gil said in zero he loves entertainment he wasn’t just talking about the kind of stuff kirei is into. he reads shonen jump!! he’s interested in video games! in strange fake he gambles at the casino he’s staying at to pass the time and when he wins all the money the casino has he gives it all back bc he was only doing it for fun

then there’s his whole relationship with enkidu. zero actually mentions enkidu’s death and i will never! forgive! the anime! for cutting it! but thankfully the manga delivers (also i will never forgive the babylonia anime for changing enkidu’s death to being outside in the rain bc it robbed us of the only chance of seeing gil cry be animated but i digress)

and in strange fake we also get to see just how happy he is about getting to see enkidu and fight them again! 

then there’s ccc gil, which really opens up his character to a whole new level. technically you could argue that ccc gil isn’t really archer gil bc he has no class there, and it’s more closely a direct incarnation of his soul than forcing him into the mold of a servant class, but he still takes on his archer appearance plus he’s an archer in extella and extella link and he’s basically the same there so we’re going to count it

god where do i start. gil becomes genuinely attached to hakuno over the course of the game. he talks to them about his love of swimming and architecture. he teases them constantly, but in a way that you can genuinely tell he cares. hakuno is the closest anyone ever gets to getting gil to fully open up after enkidu’s death

soooo much is revealed here that puts into context his actions in other installments. a lot of what casgil mentions in babylonia about pushing humanity towards the future and his clairvoyance of what they would achieve and everything, all of that was mentioned here first. it shows why he acts like he’s the most important person in the world. it’s because, in a way, he kind of is. or at least was. even before he became the wise king or even before he met enkidu, he was the reason why the mesopotamian gods declined and why humans in mesopotamia were able to thrive

if it sounds like the line is blurring between archer and casgil here, yeah. that’s kind of the point. you can’t really separate them. they’re way more alike than they are different. they have different priorities but on the basis of the same ideal. that doesn’t mean that archer gil in zero and fsn isn’t evil tho. he absolutely is. or well, it’s more accurate to say that as a being that’s 2/3 god, he sees himself as being above the concepts of good and evil. he genuinely doesn’t believe how he acts is wrong. that’s why his alignment even in the route where he wants to wipe out the majority of the planet is chaotic good. however that’s still obviously an inexcusable goal, and he deserves to get beat up and learns what individual humans are capable of, not just humanity as a whole

i’m gonna leave you with this meme i made about a week ago that pretty much encapsulates everything i’ve said here into one convent format 

[alj4890]

All Through the Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU

@gkittylove99​ ​​ @krsnlove​ ​ @kingliam2019​ ​ @texaskitten30​ ​ @yourmajesty09​ ​ @mom2000aggie​ ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ ​ @twinkleallnight​ ​ @lodberg​ ​ @twinkleallnight​ ​ @amandablink​ ​ @neotericthemis​ ​  @mm2305​ ​ @sfb123​ ​ @iufilms​​​ ​ ​ @tessa-liam​ @busywoman​​

Masterlist

Catch up here with Prologue and Part 1

Part 2

Fydelia...

"Madeleine dear, have you seen the lost book of Aurelia?" Regina called out when she noticed the countess passing by. "There were some notes in there that I think can be useful for Maxwell."

"No mam." Madeleine stepped into their library.

The walls were covered with a variety of the history of the five kingdoms and the mysterious sixth. Madeleine had spent years studying every single myth in the hopes of finding hints of cures and such for the ailments of her people. Her usually sharp gaze softened at the faded leather spines. They had been her source of comfort long before Regina arrived.

When her parents were alive they rarely spared their daughter a single glance. As long as she was quiet, well behaved, and properly attired; they expected little else from her. She had been their disappointment. Her father had hoped for a son while her mother hoped to never have a child.

She did not feel grief when they died. In fact, she had rarely felt any emotion until Regina took over her care. Through her cousin's encouragement and treating her with kindness, Madeleine began to understand happiness and contentment.

She also began to long for love.

The stories she read about the great love Queen Kenna shared with Dominic had made her begin to daydream about her finding someone of her own. She rather liked the idea that the creatures of the Dark Kingdom fell in love instantly. It certainly took all the guess work out of he loves me, he loves me not.

Though Regina was a kind and nurturing soul, Madeleine wanted something more.

And she had found it one afternoon with the banished prince of the Dark Kingdom.

**************

A year ago, the capital of Cordonia...

Madeleine ran down the sidewalk as a torrential downpour began. Being lost in thought, she had wandered away from the market place without paying attention. Townhomes with small parks and cottages with flower gardens dotted the quiet neighborhood.

"Oh!" Madeleine slid down, landing not only upon her left ankle, but also in a puddle.

She closed her eyes at the painful throbbing. Tears began to intermingled with the rain falling upon her face. She tried to standup but ended right back in the puddle.

For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single spell that she could use to help herself. It was part curse and actually a blessing to others that a witch could rarely use magic to improve their own circumstances. Other than being able to take potions to improve their physical health, most spells could only be used for someone else.

If she had asked Regina to come with her for a visit to the capital, then she could have healed Madeleine easily. She probably knew a spell offhand to immediately dry her clothes. But then again, Regina was the most powerful out of their coven.

She attempted to stand once more, only for a cry of frustration mixed with agony to slip out.

She could hear footsteps rushing towards her from behind.

She turned her head and saw a man. Her lips parted at how handsome he was. His drenched clothing revealed what was a definite muscular body. His blonde hair had darkened from the rain. But his eyes...they were the most intense blue she had ever seen.

"Are you badly hurt?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's my ankle. Either a bolt of lightening struck when I fell or I definitely heard a definite pop."

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.

He kicked open the wrought iron gate and ran with her into his townhome.

"There's a light switch behind you." He waited for her to find it then continued on into his living room. "Here." He set her down on the couch. I'll try to find you something dry to put on and then we'll have a look at that ankle."

Her lips parted then closed as he dashed upstairs. She took advantage of her solitude to study what was clearly the home of a bachelor. Her eyes touched on the masculine décor of oversized leather furniture and no pictures on the walls. There no trinkets of any sort nor any type of color to add to the brandy colored leather and beige walls.

She turned her attention back to her ankle and winced when she tried to rotate her foot.

"That will teach you not to do that again."

Madeleine jumped at the sound of his voice tinged with amusement.

He handed her a towel then knelt beside her. Using another towel, he dried her foot and leg after removing her shoe.

"Thank you, um..." She bit down on her bottom lip when his fingers gently pressed around the swollen area.

"Leo." He looked up at her. "And who might you be?"

"Madeleine." She sucked in a painful gasp when he lifted her foot.

"Madeleine," he shook his head, "I believe it is just a bad sprain."

She slumped back in relief at that news. "I think so too."

He took off his shirt off and pulled a dry one on.

Her parted lips at the sight brought a grin to his face.

"If we're going to get you an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken, then you'll have to stay in your dress." His eyes roamed over her petite figure. "I don't have anything that will work for you out in public."

"Yes, of course." She lowered her eyes. "Thank you for your assistance. I'm certain I would still be sitting in the puddle if you hadn't come by."

"I saw you slip down from my bedroom window." He scooped her up once more and carried her out to his garage. "Don't worry Lady Madeleine, we'll have you fixed up in no time."

Her head jerked up. "How do you know I'm a noble?"

He paused then shrugged. "With your beauty and the way you speak, it seemed likely that you were one." He set her in the passenger seat of his car. "Then again," he winked at her, "perhaps I was hoping to be your knight in shining armor."

Her pale skin flared with color from his flirting.

Leo chuckled at the sight then patted her hand.

After taking her to a nearby emergency care clinic, he then drove her back to her hotel.

He carried her and her crutches to her room despite her arguments that she could manage now that she had something to lean on.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself, Mr.--"

"Leo." He insisted. "And it is no trouble at all, I assure you." He set her down on a chair. "So, what brings you to the capital?"

"Nothing in particular." She lowered her eyes. "I had a few council meetings to attend and then I decided to stay over for a few days."

Leo nodded. "Wanted to get away?"

"Yes." Madeleine twisted the hem of her skirt. "I shouldn't feel this way. My life is filled with responsibilities that I actually enjoy handling." She lowered her eyes. "But sometimes..."

"It isn't enough." He smiled at her. "I've been there."

"You have?"

"Of course." He stretched his legs out and took a deep breath. "Though, I think the worst thing that can happen to someone is to have those very responsibilities that they thrive on taken away."

He bent down when he saw her struggle to prop her foot up on a small table. Before she could utter the words that he needn't feel like he had to keep helping her, he had slid it over closer.

"Thank you." She smiled shyly at him. "If you don't mind my prying, what responsibilities do you have?"

His easy smile dimmed. "Ah, none."

Her eyes widened. "But you seem to understand --"

"Like I said," he got up and went to stand at her window. "Nothing is worse than being denied what you are made for."

"What were you made for?" She prodded.

He glanced at her from over his shoulder with a smirk. "Me? To be king."

Her eyes widened with realization. The infamous handsome looks. The chivalry. The recognition of her nobility.

"You're the Dark King's son." She whispered in disbelief.

He turned to fully face her. "And you're The Guardian's ward, the very one she gave up being queen for."

Madeleine swallowed nervously. "I--I'm sorry you lost your kingdom." She gripped her hands together in her lap. "I heard about your father naming Liam as heir."

A brief flash of anger appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, it seems that my embarrassment of not being a vampire extends to all areas of Cordonia."

"No!" She lifted her hand toward him as if to try and comfort him. "It isn't anything you could control." Her brow furrowed. "I'm certain you would have been an excellent king."

He returned to his chair. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I've always had a gift of, well...of sensing a person's true nature."

"Sounds impressive." Leo reached for her hand. "And what do you sense with me?"

Madeleine bit down on her bottom lip. "I can't quite find the words, but I sense great things in your future." A blush formed on her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. "And that I am somehow tied to your destiny."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I think you're right."

***************

It had to have been fate for their paths to cross. The young man had been wandering Europe in search for a place he could belong.

"Once I saw you," Leo told her late one night, "I knew I had finally found the right place."

She had lost her heart to him. His stories of not being loved by his father matched her own, especially in being considered a great disappointment. She had not been born a boy and he had not been born a vampire.

There was little either could do about it.

Leo admitted that he had gone in search of a vampire in Sweden to try and turn him. Something though went wrong when he was given the Vampire's kiss. He did not change. He had remained in his mortal form even after completing the procedure by drinking from the Chalice.

There was no increase of strength. There was no vulnerability to the sun. There was nothing new or different about him.

Only further frustration and heartache.

Madeleine kept their encounters to herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Regina. She simply didn't trust what she might say to Constantine.

The King continued to invite Regina to visit. He understood her reasons for refusing his marriage proposal but he refused to never see her again. Since she was in love with him too, she went each time he called for her.

Madeleine didn't approve of their relationship, yet she also kept this thought to herself. She had seen as a child the effect speaking one's mind had on others and she never wanted anyone to know her plans or opinions.

But then she began to sneak away to see Leo.

He had been the first person she had actually opened up to. His charm and confidence seemed to spill over and infect her with an openness she never knew she possessed.

Leo was interested in everything about her, especially her knowledge of spells and potions. For nearly a year, he marveled at her intelligence and encouraged her to dig further to find ways to push magic to its very limit.

Then one night, he shared a dream he had recently had.

"You and I were the King and Queen of the Dark Kingdom." His blue eyes flashed with emotion as he gazed off into the distance. "The people were overjoyed to have the true heir back within the fold."

"We were married?" She asked.

"We were." He squeezed her tight, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. "Everything was how it was meant to be for me. I had claimed the black crown for my own."

"What about your father and Liam?"

He turned toward her. Images from his dream of their ashes floating about his feet brought a slight smile to his lips.

"They weren't there."

"Did you feel in the dream that they approved?"

"Of course." He replied. "I have no doubt they finally saw my true strength."

"You would be an excellent ruler, my love." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "No one has as big a heart like you."

With her head pressed to his chest, he softly agreed. "Yes, I believe I would be just the ruler this country needs."

As the months passed, he fed her little by little tidbits of stories he claimed he had heard. The creatures of the Dark Kingdom were miserable. They were being ill treated by their once beloved monarch.

"I can't stand the thought of any of them suffering." He paced back and forth before her.

"Of course you can't." She replied. "I wish there was something we could do."

His steps faltered. Turning toward her, his sharp eyes filled with tears.

"Do you truly wish you could help them, Maddie?"

"I do." She reached for his hands. "It seems so wrong to be given these magical powers and not use them in some way to help your people."

He smiled warmly at her. She had stopped referring to the people of the Dark Kingdom as monsters. It had taken a long time to get her to do so, but he knew it would all be well worth it in the end.

Leo sat down before her. "If anyone can find a way for us to take our rightful place, it is you," he pressed a kiss to her hands, "my love."

Madeleine blushed at his faith in her. She loved that he saw her as no one else did. How could she not spend every single spare moment she had in pursuit of a way for him?

"I'll try, darling." She vowed. "I'll do everything within my power to return what is rightfully yours."

He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss.

**************

Now...

"I received your message." Leo climbed the trellis to Madeleine's balcony. "Did you find something?"

"I think I have." She showed him the lost book of Aurelia. "It is taking me a while to decipher, but I believe that what you need will be in here."

He stared at the book that might possibly hold his future.

"For instance," she opened it to the third chapter, "a witch held a vampire hostage to discover where their super strength and mind powers originate from."

His eyes narrowed on the crude symbols meant to be letters of the ancient Aurelian language.

"And you believe you will find a way to destroy Father's powers?" He asked.

"No." She gently placed her arm around his waist. "I believe I will find a way to give you those same powers without the vampiric nature."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"I am." She smiled up at him. "What will your first act as king be?"

He returned her smile. "After naming you queen, it will be to heal our fractured kingdom once and for all."

****************

That same evening, near a bustling market place in the capital...

"Lady Hana?"

Hana spun around and smiled. "Lord Beaumont?"

"Maxwell, please." He grinned at her. "It's nice to meet you."

She shook his hand then gestured to the lady beside her. "This my best friend and business partner, Riley Brooks."

"Hi." Riley shook his hand. "Hana said that you would be our tour guide."

"Well," he slipped his hands in his pockets while summoning his charming façade, "I don't like to brag but I do know all the best places to see in Cordonia."

"Great!" Hana relaxed some. "We have quite the list prepared of what we want to see most."

"Oh?" His eyes widened when she handed him a notebook. "Wow. You, uh, you weren't kidding."

"We're vloggers." Riley explained. "Our subscribers depend on us to be thorough with the places we travel to."

"Then you've got the right kind of tour guide." He hesitated when he came to Riley's section. "Interested in the supernatural?"

"Yep." Riley laughed. "You wouldn't think it of us," she nudged a giggle out of Hana, "but we have a lot of fun exploring the creepy."

"Not that we have ever come across a ghost or creature of the night." Hana added. "But we refuse to give up."

"I see." Maxwell mumbled. He looked up at them with a grin. "I'm a fraidy cat myself."

"That's okay." Riley shrugged. "It won't be the first time Hana and I have to venture into the unknown alone."

"She means supposed haunted houses and woods." Hana added with a chuckle.

"But that's not all I want to see." Riley pointed at another section of her list. "Night clubs and historical spots are another part I want to spend time on."

Maxwell shut the binder. "How about for your first venture into Cordonia's nightlife we go dancing?" He flashed another dimpled grin. "No need to spook you on the first night here."

"Sounds good to me." Riley replied when Hana tilted her head in agreement. "Lead the way."

******************

"Why did we come here of all places?" Drake grumbled.

"I sent Leo a message to meet us here for a drink." Liam sat down at one of the bar's balcony chairs. "He hasn't replied but I am still hopeful he will show up."

He had always enjoyed this particular bar simply for its view. The bustling marketplace of Cordonia's capital was the perfect place to people watch.

It was one of his favorite past times and he usually came by himself. Tonight though, he had dragged Drake and Sherry along while forcing Rashad to promise to meet up with them once he concluded a business dinner.

"Here we go." Sherry set some glasses down. "One whiskey for Mr. Grumpypants."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I meant Sir Grumpypants." She teased. "One scotch for Liam." She sat down between them, "...and one--" her eyes began to glow as she zeroed in on an all too familiar figure down in the crowd.

"Sherry?" Drake poked her when she stilled.

"What is it?" Liam became alarmed by her fury forming.

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "He wouldn't dare!"

Sparks shot off from her hands as she shoved her chair back.

"Sherry!" Liam grasped her arm to try to calm her down before her emotions gave away what she was. He believed though that he should be able to alter the few patron’s memory here yet he hoped it wouldn't come to that."

"Who are you--" Drake's jaw spasmed as he tried to remain under control. He finally saw what she had seen. "It's that damn Beaumont!"

Liam turned to scan the crowd. He noticed the hunter walking with a lady on each arm. His brow furrowed at the strange sight. He knew Sherry had secured for the most part a future with him, and yet he was out with two--

Liam sucked in a strangled breath. The lady on his left had lifted her face to look at the upper level bars and restaurants. Her deep brown eyes met his and she smiled before continuing on her study of her surroundings.

Sherry jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I'm going to burn off some pieces of his body for this!"

Drake didn't bother to help stop her, hoping she would indeed hurt the man.

Liam shook himself out of the haze seeing the strange woman had caused. "Wait!" He took off after his relative. "Sherry!"

Drake heaved a groan, downed his drink, and begrudgingly followed in their wake.

******************

"...and if you are looking for the latest fashions, Hana, this store has a direct from Paris line--"

Maxwell took a step back when Sherry appeared before them.

Hana and Riley looked first at the furious woman then at his shocked face in curiosity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sherry hissed.

Maxwell swallowed uneasily. "Will, uh, will you ladies excuse me a moment?"

"Sure." Riley replied as he grasped the mystery woman's hand.

He released it with a yelp as if touching her had hurt.

"Is something wrong?" Hana asked.

Maxwell shook his scalded hand. "No."

"That's what you deserve." Sherry muttered for his ears only. "How could you--

"Ladies, allow me to introduce Lady Sherry Alcantar." Maxwell bit out. His blue eyes seemed to spark with a fire of his own as he gazed upon the woman. "My love, this is Lady Hana Lee and Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. Lady Hana's mother is an old friend of my family who asked me to show them around."

Sherry's eyes narrowed somewhat. She was slightly mollified in hearing him call her his love, but that still gave him no right to escort two disgustingly beautiful women around Cordonia at night.

"It's nice to meet you." Riley held her hand out. "Maxwell told us all about you on the way here. I'm so glad we have a face to put to the name he says in every other sentence."

Sherry took a deep breath to cool her fiery temper. She shook her hand with a sincere smile. "It's nice to meet you both."

Hana smiled warmly at her while describing their work. "Lady Sherry, perhaps we could question you about some of the places we hope to capture on film.

The two friends shared a significant glance when Maxwell and Sherry merely stared at one another.

"If you don't mind, I would love to go in there and look around." Hana gestured toward the shop. "I can already see some dresses that I think would be perfect for our videos."

"We'll be back in a few." Riley added, winking at Sherry on her way inside. “I’m sure Maxwell would prefer staying out here with you than be stuck shopping with us.”

Sherry took a deep breath once they were gone. "Why are you really out with them?"

"I received a call the other night from Hana's mother." He explained. "She heard about Liam's search for a bride."

"Her mother knows about the Dark Kingdom?" Sherry couldn't hide her surprise. It was rare to find anyone today who actually believed that the stories were true.

"Yes, she is from one of Cordonia's minor houses." Maxwell sighed. "She doesn't want her daughter to be the next Dark Queen."

Sherry tried to control her temper. Nothing sparked it like someone denying the sweetest, most gentle man she knew a chance at happiness. She clinched her fists when she felt the heat move over her body.

"Sherry?" Maxwell took a cautious step forward. "You're overheating." He tried to take her in his arms, wincing at how hot she felt.

Her eyes flashed as she glared at him. "I know."

He let her go. "I'm sorry, honey."

The unexpected apology and endearment was what instantly cooled her. "You're what?"

"I know how important Liam is to you." He added, running his hands down his face. "But, I doubt this will be then only lady I'm tasked with protecting from him."

"Liam deserves a chance at finding his mate as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so." Sherry argued. She raised her eyes to his. "If you would spend time with him, then you would see what kind of man he is." She looked back into the shop at the two new ladies. "Maybe then you wouldn't take on jobs like this."

Maxwell hated seeing her so down and knowing he was partly responsible. He reached out and took her in his arms, cuddling her close. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

“I know you want me to meet him. I’ll try to do so one day.” He tried to fight how wrong that felt saying aloud. “But for the moment, I can’t take a chance on Liam meeting Hana.”

“Why did you accept this?” She asked. “You've never taken on bodyguard duty before.”

"Hana's family offered incentives that I needed to help with Bertrand's healing." He rested his cheek against her head when he felt her arms wrap around him. "I didn't think about how it would affect Liam or you. I just knew I couldn't pass up this opportunity for my brother.”

Sherry lifted her head and gently kissed him. "I understand." A rueful smile formed on her lips. "And I apologize for blowing up at you earlier. When I saw you with two highly attractive women and clearly having the time of your life, something in me just snapped."

"You know, you ruined me for anyone else." His dimpled grin appeared. "I could be out with a dozen so called gorgeous women and all I would notice is that they aren't you."

She beamed at him. "Really?"

"Really."

When silence fell between them again, Maxwell exaggerated clearing his throat. He cocked an eyebrow when Sherry looked up at him.

"You ruined me too." She admitted.

"I better have." He grinned once more when he heard her laugh. "Just so there is no misunderstanding, I have to spend the next few weeks with Hana and Riley." He nudged Sherry's chin up. "I want you to come with us as much as you would like."

"You do?"

He nodded.

"I suppose I could find the time." She teased. With a sigh she looked up at the bar. "I should probably head back up there."

"Where?"

"I was up there having a drink with Liam and Drake." She pointed toward the empty balcony. "I wonder where they went."

"Liam's here?!" Maxwell let her go and rushed over to the shop window. He breathed a touch easier when he saw Hana critically studying a dress Riley had tried on.

He then scanned the crowd. His hand immediately went to his side, causing him to curse aloud when he remembered he had not brought his sword. He had left it behind to keep the illusion of a fun, party lord intact.

He really needed to start carrying a hidden dagger like Olivia kept insisting.

Sherry folded her arms while watching him revert into hunter mode. "Max? You know Liam would never harm them."

He narrowed his eyes as he searched for the Dark Prince and his right hand man.

He glanced at the lady beside him when he heard her deep sigh.

"Let me see where he disappeared to and I'll try and get him out of here."

"What was he doing down here anyway?" He asked.

"Oh." Sherry bit down on her bottom lip. "He recently found out that Leo is back in Cordonia and invited him to meet us for a drink."

"Leo's here too?!" Maxwell briefly closed his eyes. "I've got both of Constantine's sons converging on the very spot where I bring the woman I'm supposed to protect from that family."

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Stop panicking. I don't think Leo will show."

Maxwell noticed the bitterness in her tone. "He’s still not speaking to any of you?"

"Nope." Sherry wrapped her arms around his waist when he placed his arm back around her shoulders to try and comfort her. "No one in our kingdom has heard a word from him since Liam was named heir."

Maxwell pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm sorry--"

She jumped when her phone vibrated. 

"What's wrong?" Maxwell asked when her brow furrowed.

"Liam has gone to the palace. He said he needs to talk to Olivia." She sighed. "I guess Leo really is going to ignore us." She looked up at Maxwell. "You can rest easy in your job this evening, Lord Beaumont."

He hugged her close against his side. "You want to come with us? Riley wants to check out the nightlife here and I offered to take them to one of the clubs."

"A night club, huh?" She laughed. "It might actually seem like a date if I did come along."

Her heart melted at how bashful he suddenly seemed over the reminder that they had yet to have an actual date.

"I guess I have dropped the ball on that."

"It's hard to find the time when you're guarding the border nearly every night." She reminded him.

"We'll have our date one day." He promised.

"I'm fine with our nights at the border."

"You deserve better." Maxwell kissed her once more. "I'll make it up to you."

Sherry's lips parted to reassure him, only to pause when Riley and Hana came out of the store.

"Ready?" He asked them, summoning his fun loving persona once more.

"Please get us out of here." Riley pleaded playfully. "I think I actually heard my bank account cry after buying these." She held up the garment bags.

Hana laughed while keeping her own purchases off the ground. "Perhaps we should call it a night since we ended up buying so much. Is there any chance you can show us more tomorrow?"

Sherry could feel the tension in his body ease completely at the notion of putting these two safely away from the night.

"Sure." He looked down at the lady in his arms. "Sherry and I were just deciding on the places to show you these next few weeks."

"That's wonderful!" Hana beamed at the new lady. "We are grateful for all the help we can get."

While Riley and Hana began to eagerly question Sherry on her favorite restaurants and things to do, Maxwell guided them out of the market place, all while keeping a lookout for any sign of Liam.

***************

"Why are we going to see her again?" Drake grumbled. "Isn't it bad enough we had to see a Beaumont tonight? Now you want to add a Nevarkis to the evening's entertainment."

Liam ignored him as his jumbled thoughts focused in on one fact: he had actually seen the woman he knew to be his mate.

When he chased after Sherry, he had decided to hang back in the shadows. Knowing that the hunter his relative had lost her heart to would not be comfortable with his presence, he decided to remain far enough that he could intercede if Sherry's temper caused any problems.

Plus he hoped to hear more about the woman Maxwell was escorting.

Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. 

He not only had overheard her name but also where she was from. He was able to see her more clearly in the lights from the nearby shops. Her beauty and the sound of her voice stirred something he had never felt when looking upon any other person.

She had to be the one. There was no other explanation to his reaction to just the sight of her.

Then he heard the reason Maxwell was with them.

The Dark Prince could not have cared less about the lady named Hana. But his job to protect her was going to make Liam's courtship of Riley difficult. He knew he would need some help if he was to get her away from her friend and Maxwell.

He couldn't ask Sherry to manipulate Maxwell into time alone with Riley. It didn't seem right to use the love between them in such a manner.

While frustration grew, he overheard the fact that Hana's mother was a Cordonian noble.

And he finally knew who could help him.

"Wait here." Liam ordered when they reached the palace gates. "I want Olivia in a good mood when I ask for her help. Seeing you, sadly, will not accomplish that."

"You're asking for her help?”  Drake asked. “In what?"

"I'll tell you everything once the plan is in motion." He promised.

"But--" Drake rolled his eyes when Liam vanished. Within a second, he saw him climbing into the queen's window of her study.

"Good luck." He mumbled as he settled in for a long wait.

******************

"Hold on." Olivia raised her hands. "You want me to invite you and these Americans to my masquerade ball?" Her eyes widened. "Are you insane?!" She got up from her desk and began to pace. "Liam, my guards are trained to find and destroy any vampire who dares to enter the palace during such events!"

"I won't touch a single drop of blood that night and my manners will fit right in with the rest of the nobility." He explained. "Plus with wearing a mask, no one will recognize me."

"Why here?" Olivia asked. "Can't you do whatever you vampires do when you find your mate without involving me or my home?"

Liam leaned against the edge of her desk. "Because of Maxwell and Sherry."

"Maxwell and Sherry? What does my most trusted monster hunter and one of your dragons have to do with this?"

Liam's brow furrowed. "Hasn't he told you that he is Sherry's recognized mate?"

"Maxwell is a dragon's mate? Maxwell Beaumont?!" Oliva sat down in a chair completely stunned by this news.

"I can't believe he didn't tell you." Liam hoped he hadn't ruined anything by revealing this.

"Maxwell owes me nothing, especially when it concerns his private life." Olivia quickly explained. "If anything, it is me and Cordonia that owe him for all his years of service." A wiry smile flirted about her lips at the irony of it all. "A renowned monster hunter and a monster in love and destined for one another. Poor Maxwell. That had to be a shock."

"You know, you really are a nice person." Liam grinned and sat across from her. "That's why I knew as a little boy that we were destined to be friends."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Back to your request. Why will my ball not only help you but also keep Sherry and Maxwell out of it?"

"Because Maxwell will be forced to come along once you invite Lady Hana and Riley. And if I'm here--"

"Yes, but my head of security knows your name and what you are." Olivia stressed again. "I can't have him see your name on the guest list and--"

"But I will simply be company with the Duke of Domvallier." Liam explained. "Rashad's duchy is technically Cordonian, as you well know. Since only a rare handful know that Rashad and Sherry are dragons, I assumed your head of security would think it was a myth too."

Olivia nodded. "That's true. Bastien believes that the only creatures of the Dark Kingdom are vampires."

Liam's smile grew. "I can be a business associate of Rashad's. While Maxwell is keeping an eye on Hana and distracted with Sherry, I can then meet Riley under easier circumstances."

Seeing his excitement, she knew she couldn't refuse him.

"You're the only one who can do this for me." Liam added. "Plus, you're one of the few I can trust with this."

"Geez. Why not whip out those mind powers of yours while you're at it?" She grumbled.

Shaking her head over how easily she was ready to help him, she couldn't help but return his smile. "Fine. I'll send invitations to Rashad for the three of you and for Lady Hana and company."

Liam scooped her up out of her chair before she could blink and hugged her tight.

"Thank you!" He bowed and kissed her hand. "I knew I could count on you."

"Uh huh." She waved towards her window. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

He winked at her and did as she said. "I'll see you at the Masquerade Ball, your majesty."

She walked over to the window and watched him disappear through the gate. Her smile dimmed as she thought of the report she had been reviewing when he appeared in her private study.

Olivia wondered if she should have told Liam about his brother's secret meetings with the Countess of Fydelia. There could only be one reason he had recently become so close to the witch. Leo must be searching for a way to gain the power he had been denied since birth.

Deciding to keep a close eye on the banished prince, she planned on telling Liam once she had more information. He was so happy with finding his mate that she couldn't stand the thought of taking that away from him with this news.

"Damn it." Olivia muttered. "Liam really is my best friend."

Somehow a Nevarkis had developed a love for a Rhys.

*Character moodboard for Madeleine and Leo*

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Gotham folks compare cults like outsiders would compare mormons and jehovah witnesses. Its just very on brand for gotham.

Also, this all kinda got side-railed from shrimp eyes to spooky vibes. Seeing more colors is gonna do more than just make danny strange. Danny can see the color of souls. The others describe it as him reading your aura, and in a reduced sense, thats what it is. But comparing danny to your average pleb spiritualist abilities is like comparing a dragon to a newt.

He sees every emotion that weighs on your heart, every every bad thing you've done that has tainted your inner light, every yearning and dream you have to be better. The individual hues splashed on by each person you've cared for and, in turn, was cared by. The saturation by the strength of emotion. The shade of how dedicated or passive you were in those bonds.

Gothamites in general are a bit darker than most other places, sooty from the things they have to do just to survive all the curses that influence their lives. But in their ash and smoke, many of them burn like embers with a desperate hope to overcome and thrive.

Danny can see which ones are waining and need encouragement, and which ones have succumbed to the dark and only live for themselves. He's a VERY good judge of character.

Within 24 hours of starting his internship at WE, he's already figured out all the bat's identities. They burn brighter than most other gothamites, and each have their own unique colors.

Batman is a bright blorange, a constant contrast of unparalleled paranoia and unrivaled hope. Hood is a vivid gred, angry at the world but deeply determined to improve it. Robin is soft yellurple, a hidden innocence being rediscovered while unlearning a wicked indoctrination. Nightwing is a colorful pure white pitch black, stubborn innocent joy in the face of untold horrors.

The others are suitably unique. Orphan is a steady candle that blazes with the strength of a supernova, untouched by even the strongest winds. Spoiler is a mirror, reflecting others' light to help them learn how to be brighter. Red Robin is a laser pointer, able to highlight - or set aflame - the smallest and seemingly most insignificant details.

Signal's meta powers allow him to refract the full spectrum of spiritual color and even direct the light around him like an invisibility cloak. But most of the time, Danny finds him hard to look at - in the "fireworks factory got set ablaze" kind of way. He's pretty sure Duke isn't fully aware of his influence on color, as his control on large swathes of the spectrum appears almost nonexistant even as he tightly manipulates certain bandwidths, haphazardly flashbanging certain colors and violently flickering in others.

Maybe he's instinctively transforming a visible color into an invisible one in the belief that he's actually turning it off? At any rate, he probably needs someone to help teach him how to "open his third eye," so to speak. Knowing his own luck, that'll probably end up being Danny. He'll have to visit Frostbite and stock up on liminal-strength migraine medication before approaching Signal.

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[rawr-ily]

A Stupidly Long Bokuto Analysis

CEO of thought dumping and calling glamorized rants “essays”

I already made a character analysis for my kin character (Oikawa) so here’s one for my favorite/ultimate comfort character :)

"The world" is a recurring theme with Bokuto. He has a strange habit of always looking at the bigger picture. By which I mean, he doesn’t really look out for little details. He's simple minded, so he takes things at face value. Tokyo isn't enough for him. Japan isn't enough. Asia isn't enough. He wants the world. He doesn't care if it seems like too much, or if it's unreasonable. He knows what he wants, and he's going to get it.

This is more noticeable in the manga. For example, there's the iconic "No matter what they say, we are the protagonists of the world" . Yes, I know Akaashi is the one the says this line, but it really mainly applies to Bokuto. We know Bokuto has this strange sort of charisma that makes him ridiculously likable to pretty much anyone. Now, I REALLY didn't wanna make this about Akaashi, but it seems like that's actually Furudate's intention. It's almost as though he didn't want to give us direct access to Bokuto's thoughts for most of the series. Instead, how did we get that? Akaashi. Akaashi is the narrator for Bokuto's thoughts. Bokuto is so random, so unique and strange, that it wouldn't make sense for us to have access to his mind. Yes, we get direct thoughts from him time to time, but Akaashi is the one who really tells us most of it. He's there to filter out Bokuto's thoughts because it would be too strange for us to understand. We would never be able to figure out Bokuto because he can't even figure out himself. That's technically Akaashi's "purpose" in the story. I don't mean that in a bad way though. I would explain more, but I wanna keep this about Bokuto as much as possible.

ANYWAY, we can sort of see Akaashi as an "extension" of Bokuto. When Akaashi says "we are the protagonists of the world", he is not talking to himself or the reader. He's talking to Bokuto, because he knows Bokuto wants the world. Another thing about this quote is that he begins with "No matter what they say..." This kind of made me to a double take. Why would someone say they aren't? But then I remembered in the manga, we get a scene of Bokuto running with some classmates. It was probably for a gym class of sorts. It's Bokuto's turn to set the pace for their run, and everybody's upset because he always goes too fast and too overboard. Bokuto doesn't really notice, and he goes forth anyway. However, after a while, he looks back and realizes nobody is running with him anymore.

Sound familiar? Kageyama's teammates left him in the same way Bokuto's did. They couldn't keep up, so they abandoned them. We're more familiar with Kageyama's past, so it's a bit easier to understand Bokuto's if you see that little parallel. I might be reaching a little here, but it's possible that people have told Bokuto that the world doesn't revolve around him in the same way Kageyama was mockingly called a king. It's a common thing said to people like Bokuto, who don't really understand much outside their own head. It's not a bad thing, but many people misinterpret it as arrogance or a disregard for others. Bokuto's charisma apparently didn't work for everyone, considering how annoyed his classmates were; I think it's a possibility that people made some snide remarks.

We also see that Bokuto is actually incredibly desperate for validation. He constantly brags about his amazing talent, always wants people to see the cool things he does, and thrives off compliments. He wants attention, and that's not a bad thing at all. It just means he wants people to acknowledge how great he is, and he feels happy when they do. That's really just scraping the surface of all that quote tells us, but I want to move on to something else.

Another recurring thing about Bokuto is his use of the word "ordinary" It seems that he doesn't really understand what the word means, but I think he knows its meaning better than anyone. Bokuto using the word first stood out to me when Fukurodani player a difficult match against another school in Nationals. I'm not too familiar with the timeline, so correct me if I'm wrong. Bokuto told the rest of Fukurodani that, up until that point, he was "an ace coddled by his team" and now he's ready to be "just an ace". He wants to be an ordinary ace, which seems quite strange. This is Bokuto, and wants to be ordinary?

Bokuto has a different understanding of "ordinary" than most people do. He's simple minded, not stupid. It's not that he doesn't think; he just thinks differently. He's that unique type of person who thinks out of the box by default. When most people think of ordinary, we think of boring, plain, normal. It's been given a negative connotation by most people. Bokuto doesn't listen to connotation.

Remember that he takes things at face value? This is an example. To us, ordinary is boring. To him, it's a goal. Bokuto sees ordinary as what things are supposed to be. He wants to be an ordinary ace. Aces are supposed to be the awesome, powerful stars of the team. Aces are supposed to be the best. He wants to be the best. Therefore, he wants to be an ordinary ace. It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to fully understand that entire bit, to be honest.

It's actually more clearly stated in one of the last manga chapters after MSBY vs. Schweiden. Akaashi interviews Bokuto for the manga company he works at, and Bokuto tells him that he has become "ordinary". Akaashi is confused and tells Bokuto that he has never been ordinary. Bokuto laughs and makes some remark about how Akaashi didn't realize just how ordinary he's become. We get a little throwback to Akaashi's 0.5 second thought process, and he realizes immediately that Bokuto doesn't use the word "ordinary" like he does. Even more impressive, he seems to also realize exactly what he means by it. Akaashi tells him that he (Akaashi) was mistaken and Bokuto is actually "super ordinary".

THIS PART TOOK ME A GOOD TWENTY MINUTES, AND AKAASHI DID IT IN 0.5 SECONDS. He's the real master at Bokuto analysis. Though Bokuto doesn't get enough serious background, so he's a difficult one to analyze. It's also much harder to put him into words? Again, he's a very unique character. He even has a surprising amount of duality in him. Though we as a fandom perceive him as an optimist, it seems his mood swings often force him into a state of overwhelming pessimism. I actually find it quite funny. It's almost like his left brain and right brain are fighting a battle, and left brain almost loses but summons the strength to momentarily completely overwhelm right brain before it takes back control. I got a very strange visual from that though.

Regardless, it just means I think his mind tries to balance out his naive optimism with intense flashes of pessimism. Bokuto gives his all to EVERYTHING. That's actually sort of an issue for him. If he's happy, he's VERY happy. If he's upset, he's VERY upset. He wants to be the best at all he doesbecause he just wants to have fun. He's not having fun when he loses, so he doesn't want to lose. It's so simple, but it's strangely inspiring. It's the straightforward answer to Tsukishima's question. Why do we push ourselves to be the best when we know there is no such thing? What motivates us? Our desire to win. What makes us want to win? Our desire to win is fueled by hatred for losing. Why don't we want to lose? We don't want to lose because it's not fun. Why isn't it fun? It just isn't. Bokuto doesn't try to dig for those answers. After all, why is anything the way it is? What does it matter? He doesn't care as long as he's enjoying himself.

I suppose that's one of the nice parts of being so simple minded. He's able to enjoy life to the fullest because he doesn't want to focus on things he doesn't like. That means his future character growth will be about having to do things he doesn't like because that's a part of life. It'll actually be quite sad to watch Bokuto grow up. What he needs to do is find a balance for all the duality in him so he doesn't need to give up his childishness or force out his mature side. If he can find a balance, it just means he'll be able to do both when he needs to. If he can do that, he'll get through everything life throws at him. He can still have fun.

He doesn't get enough serious screen time, so I can't really say anymore about him that can be reinforced by things from the anime or manga. This was only around 1.5K, so hopefully it was a pretty easy read? I still don't wanna edit this, so just tell me if things don't make sense! Also, please remember that Bokuto IS NOT AN IDIOT, SO PLEASE STOP CALLING HIM ONE IF IT’S NOT FOR COMEDIC PURPOSES. Thank you :)

[bigskydreaming]

I’m still thinking through names I like for Cass better than Orphan or Black Bat (which I don’t hate like I do Orphan, but I’ve always felt that the name Black Bat came more out of just ‘come up with something franchise themed’ than trying to find something for Cass specifically), for when she’s not Batgirl or Steph is instead. Not for any particular project or anything, I’ve just been stuck on that train of thought since falling onto it the other day.

I think I’ve given up on it being Red themed lol. My dreams for Batfam symmetry are doomed to come to naught. C’est la vie.

Currently though most of the ideas I have are all central to or revolving around communication or connection, because I honestly think those are thematically so PIVOTAL to who Cass is.....but the danger is something like that coming across as ironic due to Cass not being particularly talkative in a lot of peoples’ interpretations or views, and its absolutely not meant to be, not for the reasons I’m thinking.

Like because the thing about her childhood is....there’s so much to focus on that was fucked up about what David Cain put her through, its impossible to have a specific place to ‘start’. But I think something that definitely at least has to be way up there is the isolation he forced her to live most of her early life in. Deprived of even the POSSIBILITY of connection to others. Because connection is so fundamental to what makes us human. As well as to what makes Cass “Cass.” Cass THRIVES due to the connections she chooses for herself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fully capable on her own, its not about suggesting she’s reliant on them.....for me, its more about the triumph of her having the freedom and CHOICE now to connect herself to as many people as she chooses, when originally her father had meant for her to basically exist APART from society. Emphasizing the importance of connection and communication to Cass is like, a definite fuck you to her dad and his plans for her, a symbol of her freedom and independence. 

But also its not JUST that, because its also just about the sheer joy of connecting for Cass, because its the fulfillment of dreams she never really expected to become reality. Because as much as her life with David defined a large portion of her childhood, she was also shaped in no small part by the years she spent on her own....where even though she was out from under Cain’s thumb, she was still influenced by the specter of him and everything he’d ever said to her. She kept herself apart from society for the most part, even though now technically she was free to mingle among it if she chose....because she felt guilt-ridden over the death she’d been party to though it had never truly been her fault and she was very much Cain’s victim there as well as the man who died, rather than him being her victim.

But the point is, a lot of the second half of her childhood was spent in silence as well, albeit self-imposed silence....except also no, fuck that, it wasn’t self-imposed because she was still suffering from the trauma of her worldview being so heavily shaped and influenced by her abusive fucknugget of a father, who’d essentially spent years convincing her that words weren’t for her, that communication, that connection, those were things for people other than her but would forever elude her because she just wasn’t BORN to partake in those things. She stayed outside of society, made no real effort to figure out if she COULD learn to communicate like others did, because her abuse in no small part had revolved around making her believe it was just her place to be silent, her role. That a weapon didn’t need words.

So in the family and fulfillment Cass found later in Barbara and Bruce and Steph and others, like.....it wasn’t just about her finding companionship or even a sense of purpose or direction......she found a voice. Even if she speaks more with sign than out loud or even if she has trouble translating her thoughts into words or sign language due to learning disability or the like, Cass very much COMMUNICATES, she connects, she has things to say, and she more than anyone understands the importance of a voice, whether spoken or written or signed, of the power inherent in just being able to use it and express oneself.

And its equally key that Bruce and Babs and others didn’t GIVE that to her, because how could they? It was something she had all along because the reality is no matter how hard he tried, it was something Cain couldn’t truly take from her. All he could do (and make no mistake, I use “all he could do” to emphasize the ultimate failure of his attempts to control her rather than to dilute the extent of trauma his abuse did inflict) - but even his attempts to cut her off from people and isolate her via an inability to communicate.....they relied wholly on denying her the tools and opportunities to learn how to make use of her voice, of the things she wanted and needed to say. 

So its not a gift that Babs and Bruce bestowed on her, because it wasn’t something anyone COULD give her anymore than it could fully be taken from her. But they did help her find that she had things to say and she had ways to say them. That she deserved to be heard and understood as much as anybody, and that she had so much in her that had just been waiting for someone to tell it to and ways for her to do that. They helped show her how to connect her voice to the right audiences for it, to communicate to people who would hear her and as Batgirl and Black Bat.....to people who NEEDED to hear her. For whom the things she could communicate via her actions and protection as much as anything else.....like that was a message they needed to hear themselves due to the abusers and villains in their own lives.

And I just see that as so.....triumphant for Cass is the word I honestly keep going back to the most.

I’ve called Dick’s approach to vigilantism his form of performance art. Carrying something that holds great importance to him even if others might overlook its significance, into what he does as a vigilante in ways that everyone he helps benefits from. Even if they don’t realize that his light-hearted performances even while sweeping them out of the path of danger is as much to help buffer them from the trauma of what is happening to them and how much they’ve already suffered.....those are as much a part of his aim to protect and make peoples’ lives better as his actual martial arts.

In the same sense, I consider Cass’ approach to vigilantism her form of connectivity. Its her message to people who need to hear, to see, to believe that there is help for them out there, that there is someone who wants to come for them, someone who wants to bring them out of whatever hole or isolation or danger they’ve fallen or been forced into....they need this as much as Cass needs it to be able to say look at me, look at my actions, I did that, I said that, that was ME.

For Cass, I feel vigilantism is about finding her voice, finding ways to put into message form others can understand even on a primal level the things she wants to communicate, that she wishes had been communicated earlier to her...that everyone deserves to be connected, to have connections, and to just....speak. In whatever form they can or choose to.

Its about the ability and freedom to use her voice, to impart her messages....and see those things have IMPACT. Be heard. Seen. Communicated.

And for those reasons I keep coming back to something like Songbird, but its ugh....its such a Catch 22. It would be so easy to misconstrue, but honestly I think it fits what I’m describing so well and like.....whatever, ultimately it doesn’t matter since this is just a headcanony thing anyway and not going to actually change anything, but like....I am The Undecided.

(Also I know Marvel already has a Songbird, but a) I dont care, like Marvel is stupid so umm why would that even matter yeah thats what I thought and b) I mean Songbird is an easy name to attach to any color one wants to make part of her name and ascribe particular significance to. Like she could be Red Songbird? Scarlet Songbird? Yes? No? Give up the dream Kalen, Big Red, Middle Red and Lil’ Red just ain’t it? Ugh, fine. Booo.)

But anyway, that’s what I’ve been musing on.

[eternal-reverie]

*drumroll*

notes of a kh au of both evil plans successfully getting a sora puppet!!

some context, this is a canon divergence idea inspired by this thing I drew a while ago.

ok im absolutely thriving with this fic idea but first, there was a painful hurdle in thinking about how to rework the Chain of Memories plot for Naminé to go along with Marluxia’s plan completely, and that naturally would change a lot of things. Especially regarding Riku’s story plus Axel’s role and a bunch of other characters. It’s actually so intimidating with all these characters and their conspiracies clashing with each other, scooping all that up to transform that into a (hopefully) coherent sequence of events;; in comparison, Days was pretty simple to deal with the change. 

Anyway what I have so far is this:

Roughly decided that Marluxia, Namine, Sora, and Xion are the main characters. Riku and Roxas are in comatose states but still influence the story. Xemnas is the main antagonist naturally. Aqua and Ven become key players towards the end. Saix, Axel, Zexion, and Xigbar are also important. Larxene will be a surprise element. Mickey, Donald, Goofy, and DiZ are there for the most part too.

The original event that pushed Naminé to tell Sora the whole truth was Axel letting her go meet Sora. So for this plot divergence to work, someone has to intervene here. I mulled it over and decided Larxene should be the one to to do it, resulting in her attacking Axel. They argue in the midst of the fray on who’s the real “traitor.” Sora arrives and defeats them both. Larxene learns of Saix’s plot before she fades. Axel then tells Sora to trust his instincts and to fight off Marluxia’s schemes, before cryptically telling him to not forget their appointment on the clocktower for ice cream. Axel then “fades” away.

Namine becomes more convinced with going through the deception (though not completely) due to interacting with the Angelic looking Specter. She encounters this figure and is given some revelation into some of Marluxia’s motives. i’ll have to think a lot about Namine and how her desire to end her loneliness comes into conflict with her integrity, in addition to how she is manipulated. She consistently guides so many characters through the series with her insight, so that’s a trait i want her to grow into. I think she’ll be the one pulling the strings in the end..

One of the biggest changes is Riku’s reverse/rebirth story. Originally, Riku doesn’t fall into Zexion’s trap due to Namine’s influence and advice dealing with darkness. However, in this AU, Naminé is going ahead with tricking Sora, being absent for Riku. So Riku would lose to Zexion, who’s desperate to use him as a counter to Marluxia’s command of Sora. Though it won’t work out for Zexion in the end because Ansem would finally be able to possess Riku fully...

Which has got me thinking there would be a clash between Ansem and Marluxia in the castle. I think it would be interesting for two of these characters who have a guardian behind them to fight!? Somehow Marluxia wins, adding to his arrogance when it comes to Xemnas.

DiZ is now stumbling over what to do and the mouse would get sad at these turn of events; both heroes of the keyblade now compromised...which leads to Mickey thinking, wait there’s someone in the realm of darkness!!! this is now a secret mickey redemption story

That will lead to Aqua returning to Castle Oblivion to do pest control and finds Axel and Zexion scrambling about trying to find the Chamber of Waking. She promptly decides that Ven is no longer safe there and gets him out. She finds Riku replica and recruits him (might change this detail, forgot to say that Marluxia told Naminé to power him down prior. Aqua finding a replica could be interesting, lest Axel or Zexion gets to him first,,)

Also forgot to mention that Riku is now the one placed in the pod for him to sleep and not turn back into Ansem. (role reversal with sora woo!!)

Sora goes happily along with Naminé but despite all the memory rearranging is still wary of Marluxia in charge (thanks Axel). Something that’s interesting in CoM was how Marluxia told Naminé to destroy Sora’s heart, finding this last resort a shame and rather having preferred him unmarred. So this AU is just that, the plan with Sora’s uninjured heart (but perhaps...breaking his heart could be point reached...in regards to Ven’s heart hidden in there..)

Mar’s character is actually one of the harder things to address. So I need to think more but I want this story to touch upon his hidden memories as so many things will remind him of the old plight of losing a loved one. Mainly observing the interactions between Naminé and Sora, Aqua and Ven, and maybe Xion??? I want Saix’s search for Subject X aka Skuld to be relevant to this too. there’s!!! so!!! many!! examples!?!?!

As he remembers more, the specter haunting him becomes more smaller and human-like. The specter will talk to Namine more for the most part. This will influence Naminé to turn the tables against Marluxia; so you could say she will manipulate and influence him with her memory powers along with her insight.

Will he gain a sibling-esque affection for Sora and Naminé? Yes. Vaguely... I think Sora’s going to lose against Xion... so Marluxia’s going to have to take up the protective role much to his displeasure. Being around Sora’s and Namine’s hearts for an extended amount of time will be a factor in his memory returning and regaining a heart.

Much of his story is taking control back of his destiny vs finding what his true purpose is and what method he choses. I feel like his time as a union leader could contribute to him feeling qualified taking over the organization. Plus him having a strong feeling that Xemnas’s plan is b.s. which is of course, spot on. Does Marluxia become a good guy in the end? im not sure yet, but I want to say no for the most part. (oh the appeal of tragic villain protagonists) who’s to say he wouldn’t sacrifice or destroy anything to recover what he’s lost?

in regards to Xion, I think she’ll be the one in most pain oh boy. Roxas was asleep through the Castle Oblivion events and Xion left seashells at his bedside during that time. The discarded Sora memories, as a result of Naminé’s interference, will pour directly into her mostly.  Xemnas sees this plan working and once Roxas wakes, forces him and Xion to clash resulting in Xion successfully absorbing Roxas and becoming the perfect sora puppet. sorta 

Xion is at this point, still in confusion on who she is. Everything in her tells her she’s Sora, but the dearest memories of her own life so far is of Roxas taking her up on the clocktower for ice cream, and she holds on to that. Xion also has the discarded C.O. memories including Axel’s last remarks to Sora. I want Xion and Repliku to meet in this story.

Xemnas discovering comatose Ven will be a main thing eventually. Which led me to this image of Xion!Sora thinking Ven is Roxas ;-;

Up to this point, I still need to address how real Sora and Xion!Sora clash. It’ll probably be in the throne room, not unlike what happens at the climax in ddd. the moment I’m most excited for is Marluxia’s humiliation at these turn of events LOL that’s why i drew that joke comic for the most part! someone commented on the post with ‘GET OFF THE STAGE MARLUXIA’ and i was GONE LMAO

there’s more stuff (from my 10 pages of notes i made yesterday. it’s a small square sketchbook so it’s probably more like 5 pages) but i think this summarizes the majority of my ideas. Idk if I’ll get this off the ground promptly since the scope is so big 😵 but it’s a start!

Here’s some sketches! lol i couldn’t resist.

sorry if there some gaps or holes since this wasn’t an outline, i just jumped around with ideas. now to think about this more meanwhile i have other responsibilities to attend to @_@

[ratingtheframe]

Why Armie Hammer’s Scandal Is More Than Kink Shaming

The 34 year old actor has had numerous allegations thrown his way this past month, from cannibalism to an obsession with BDSM. But do these allegations go beyond a widely accepted community of kink lovers and venture into deeply rooted misogyny?

Warning: this article contains mentions of cannibalism and sexual assault. 

For those of you who aren’t aware of Armie Hammer’s presence on screen, you may be scratching your head and wondering what on earth people are talking about, seeing the cannibalism aspect to this all as face value without making the connection between Hammer’s past behaviours and current allegations. The actor who rose to prominence in Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher’s The Social Network (2013) playing both of the Winklevoss twins, has become quite the favourite amongst the film industry. His role Oliver in Luca Guadagnino’s Call me by your name (2017) has sent Twitter into a permanent frenzy as memes and daily adoration for Chalamet and Hammer’s on screen romance continue to thrive even 4 years after the film's release. As well as Call me your name, Hammer is known for roles in Sorry to Bother You (2018), Rebecca (2020), On the Basis of Sex (2018) and soon to be released, Death on The Nile (2021). He currently has another film due to be released and a Call me by your name sequel in development. Sounds as if he’s got a lot going for him and despite him not being the biggest star to be churned out of Hollywood today, the recognition is still there and with that, he’s still being paid. 

The Allegations

At the beginning of the year, an account emerged under the handle of @houseofeffie, that was created to expose some lurid and unpleasant communication between several women and Armie Hammer. Some of which he had relations with whilst married to his now ex wife Elizabeth Chambers. The nature of these dms are incredibly disturbing and worrying considering that Hammer not only has children but as an actor, spends a proportionate time around women.

These are just a few of the messages that were exposed that led the media to brandish Hammer as a “cannibal”:

Hammer:

 “You are the god damned standard I hold women to in terms of kink and enjoyment of fucking the[n]...”

“I need to drink your blood, why the distance?” “...thinking of holding your heart in my head and controlling when it beats”

“I am 100% a cannibal...I want to eat you....Fuck...that’s scary to admit..”

“I’ve cut the heart out of a living animal before and eaten it while still warm”

“You were the most intense and extreme version [that I’ve ever had]. Raping you on the floor with a knife against you. Everything else seemed boring”

“You [were] crying and screaming, me standing over you.  I felt like a god. I’ve never felt such power or intensity.”

“You just live to obey and be my slave”

“Would you come and be my property till you die? If I wanted to cut off one of your toes and keep it with me in my pocket so I always had a piece of you in my possession?”

“I want to see your brain, your blood, your organs, every part of you… I would definitely bite it...100%”

...O-kay. Lots to unpack here. First and fore mostly, I’d like to address the kink shaming element to all of this. I personally don’t see any harm in kinks, BDSM, pornography, as long as people are consenting and aren’t inflicting unsolicited pain upon people. Therefore, kink shaming and finding Hammer’s taste in sexual preferences isn’t what we are here to discuss. In fact when I first read the allegations, that wasn’t even my initially thought. CNN posted an article two days ago titled “Armie Hammer May Be Disturbed, But Is Shaming Him the Answer?” an opinion based article by Aaron Weaver that explores the allegations and believes Hammer shouldn’t be shamed for his kinks. But this begs the question whether Hammer was actually being shamed? I didn’t see much evidence for this seeing as people were mostly horrified by his taste in human flesh than anything else, a kink that is uncommon in the BDSM community and is only practiced by the most extreme. 

Kinks aside, the most worrying thing about the DMs above is the way in which he views women and their bodies. It’s clear to see that he might not have much respect for women seeing as he proudly states his willingness to cut them up and drink their blood. And funnily enough, the sexual objectification of women’s bodies for one's own sexual pleasure without considering their comfortability is classed as misogyny. A reddit user made an extremely good point on a thread about Hammer’s scandal stating:

“To me, the problem is not that he’s into rough sex, or that he has kinks some people find scary. It’s not about yucking his yum, so to speak. I’m more concerned that he may have ignored safe words and pushed his partners beyond their limits. I feel like the media is focusing so much on his kinks and sexuality as opposed to his ignoring of consent, which is a complete and utter inversion of priorities”

Past Relationships

Another example of Hammer disrespecting the boundaries of women and sexual pleasure would be his past girlfriend Paige Lorenze. Lorenze is a 23 year model and former professional skier who has shone a light on Hammer’s worrying behaviour and his involvement in BDSM activity. The sources of Lorenze’s allegations are highly unreliable, which is one of the most frustrating things about this entire charade. The BBC BRIEFLY covered the fact that Hammer dropped out of his latest film amid the allegations, without fully going into detail about the allegations or the abuse subjected towards his former partners. It just goes to show we’re rubbish at taking abuse seriously enough to the point where people are punished for their wrongdoings. Had a more reliable news source covered this story, then it’d make it more viable to the public. Even though this scandal is in its early days, that doesn’t necessarily mean it's unimportant or should be swept under the rug along with the hundreds of other scandals that Hollywood refuses to expose.

Only the Daily Mail, The Sun and Page Six seem to have gone in depth with the accusations, making the entire story rather murky for the reader. Anyhow, Paige Lorenze said to the Daily Mail that Hammer had carved an ‘A’ above her groin without her consent and licked it whilst it bled. He had also reportedly tied her up and hit her with paddles to fuel his BDSM obsession and sexual desires. Lorenze was quoted saying 'Any man who is fantasizing about crushing bones, eating them, having sex with female limp bodies is a danger to all women'. Hammer insisted to Lorenze that his behaviour was normal, and that there was an entire community of people that carried out the same things he did on her. This is partially correct seeing as the global sex play market is worth over $30 billion, with practices in such activities dating back to the mid 19th century. However, the one thing the BDSM community doesn’t condone is not giving consent, which is where the fine line is drawn in between Hammer’s sexual preferences and the BDSM community. His choice to carve that ‘A’ into Lorenze isn’t backed up by a wider community of people who enjoy a variety of sexual pleasure. Lorenze claims he also DMed nude photos of her being tied up to people without her consent, further perpetuating Hammer’s lack of respect towards people’s boundaries. This is a serious incident, that sees someone with more power (Hammer is 6’5 and Lorenze is 5’6 btw) assert their dominance and by doing so, degrades and harms someone else. We shouldn’t be kink shaming Hammer, but shaming him for thinking that this behaviour is acceptable.

Hammer’s previous relationships can also draw some light into his lack of respect for women. He and his wife Elizabeth Chambers divorced in July 2020 after a decade of marriage. Though it's unknown what triggered the separation, these recent allegations may have something to do with it. Furthermore, two other women have come forward to express their distaste towards Hammer and his questionable fantasies. Entrepreneur and ex-girlfriend of Armie Hammer, Courtney Vucekovich, told Page Six that Hammer wanted to “break [her] rib and barbecue it and eat it”. She also expressed how easy it was for Hammer to charm his way through into getting women, especially young women into doing what he wants through “active manipulation and making you feel like he’s never felt this way about anybody.” Lorenze was also subjected to similar retort after reporting that Hammer too wanted to barbecue one of her ribs because she “didn’t need it”. Writer Jessica Ciencen Henriquez took to twitter last summer after a lunch date with Hammer and expressed that she had blocked him on Instagram. She later went on to tweet this:

“If you are still questioning whether or not those Armie Hammer DMs are real (and they are) maybe you should start questioning why we live in a culture willing to give abusers the benefit of the doubt instead of victims”

Exactly my point here. There’s not much to this scandal other than the fact that several people were hurt and undermined and someone else caused it. Someone who is societally above everyone because of their race, class, status and gender, with a well connected and dominant family support system. 

His background and past 

Hammer comes from a very powerful and wealthy family. Hammer’s great grandfather, Armand Hammer, was the chief executive officer and president of the Occidental Petroleum company founded in 1920. Now if you’re wondering the exact scale of such a company that is still running today, they are the 4th largest oil and gas acquisition in the entire world worth over $100 billion. ONE HUNDRED, BILLION, DOLLARS. Not all actors in Hollywood can say that their great-grandfathers were worth that much, which gives me little hope in seeing Hammer be held accountable for what he’s done. He was also kicked out of UCLA after apparently not “being able to do it”.  Just another rich white male with enough power, malice and money to work his way around any struggle.

Now that we’ve established Hammer’s allegations, it’s worth looking back to see whether the signs of such behaviour were already prevalent in the numerous interviews he partook in over the years. Complex highlighted an episode of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert from 2017, where the host brought up Hammer’s obsession with knots, to which he laughed off and claimed that “knots make sense” that they are a “language” and referenced how man used knots before the wheel. Valid points but ones that are debunked in light of his interest in BDSM. during a 2013 interview with Playboy (appropriate) Hammer expressed that his “sexual appetites changed'' when he married his wife and that hair pulling used to be something he enjoyed but could no longer do now that he was married “even though he wanted to”. This is quite the backwards comment when we’re talking about respecting boundaries and it's clear to see it was only a matter of time before his desires could no longer be repressed.

Since this whole shit storm began to travel Hammer’s way, he has since dropped out of the film The Billion Dollar Spy, which would’ve seen him star alongside Jennifer Lopez. BBC News reported that this move was made as Hammer stated that “I cannot in good conscience now leave my children for four months to shoot a film in the Dominican Republic” following the ‘vicious’ online abuse he’s been subjected to. Hammer was again put in the firing line by Grand Cayman law enforcement for lying about a woman provocatively shown in a video was Miss Cayman of the Miss Cayman beauty pageant that’s held on the island. He and the woman were warned for their misconduct and had confirmed the matter is now closed. 

Final Thoughts

There are enough red flags in Hammer’s behaviour to open up a flag store, and I would go as far as to say that this isn’t the end of it. For someone who’s grown up having the majority of things they want, it's easy to want more beyond morality and despite the discomfort of others. Hammer’s move to drop out of his latest film was an attempt to lessen the blow of hate being turned towards him as opposed to the benefit of those he’s hurt. So far, him and his lawyer have denied all allegations and further action hasn’t been taken against the Hollywood star. He’s apologised for the DMs and brandished his actions a “foolish attempt at humour”. 

Wrapping his own behaviour up in humour is an attempt to detract from the severity of the behaviour itself, whilst excusing it, something he can get away with because of his status. 

Major media outlets haven’t done much in even attempting to expose this man’s behaviour and have left it up to unreliable sources to piece together the true persona of Armie Hammer. Though innocent until proven guilty, common sense is widely available to the general public meaning we should be delving into the past a little and comparing it to these allegations. Along with Hammer’s character, family and unnerving Instagram posts of cutting up meat and eating raw steak, there doesn’t seem to be much in the actor’s favour. 

All I would say is as a director, producer, writer or actor, would you feel comfortable in being associated with someone who believes they're a cannibal and marvels at the idea of drinking human blood? Or someone who goes as far to objectify women to the point where they become nothing but sexual fulfilment and pieces of meat? 

That’s all I’ll say and those who do feel comfortable doing such a thing means that Hammer may still have a career at the end of the day. One point to Hollywood, no points to political correctness and respecting women. 

[purplellamanator]

Hi! I saw your list and that make me so excited. My request is ShinRan for Arranged or Foreign Thank you

Thanks so much for the ask anon!! I really enjoyed doing this one. Of course it got a little out of hand cause I have no self control so it is extremely long! Further in the story you’ll probably notice I had the other language being spoken as Japanese. I am not fluent and my knowledge of the language is very slim! Anything in the story was translated from google translate which I know is not a good source but if you notice the mistakes, I do apologize! Feel free to correct me and I will try to edit it as I go. Also, I know I say it every time but I am so sorry for the wait. I work in a pharmacy so as you can probably guess, work has been crazy during all of this covid stuff! I hope everybody is being safe and healthy and that even if it is such a small thing, that I can provide some decent entertainment for someone that is stuck in quarantine! Be safe y’all! <3 Arranged~ Person A is royalty and has to wed. They choose Person B, and B is not happy about it

Foreign~ Person A and B have been arranged to marry to keep peace between their lands. Too bad Person B can't understand a lick of what their fiancé has to say

oOo

"It's the law."

Shinichi rolled his eyes before petulantly saying, "I thought you always said my word was law."

The old man sputtered, having his words twisted around. Finally his adviser waggled a finger at him. "Your father will not be pleased by this, Shinichi-kun!"

"Is he ever?" Shinichi shrugged uncaringly and reaching his blowing point, the adviser stormed from the room, almost knocking into the head guard as he made his leave.

Staring at where the old man had made an angry exit and back to the Prince, Hattori chuckled. "I take it you're still looking for a bride," he called casually as he entered the dining hall.

Shinichi snorted before rolling his eyes. Not bothering to acknowledge the guard, he slammed his elbow on the table and braced his chin in his palm.

"You know the more difficult you be, the longer and more painful this process will be," his friend said in a sing song voice.

Huffing, he still refused to move from his position. "I could care less how long this takes. If they're worried about that, then they should call this whole thing off."

Hattori actually full on laughed at that. "Yeah, you know that's never going to happen," he said, his lips still twitching from trying to contain his giggles.

The Prince frowned. Of course he knew that but he could always hope.

"Come on," Hattori baited as he sat himself on the armrest of the chair the Prince sat in. "What was wrong with the last one? She was pretty... Well endowed," his friend wiggled his eyebrows as his gaze shot to his chest playfully.

His friend was joking. They both knew that there was no way he'd ever settle on Princess Momiji. So spoiled, and her voice grated on his nerves. She was pretty all right but she was too aware of that fact and when she realized her womanly wiles would not work on him- she had tried them on his guard.

She was not his worst option by any means. At least she was the same age. Shinichi was not really a vain person and looks were by no means what he based his decision on, but he had no desire to marry someone that could be his mother.

"You're being too picky, Shin-chan," his actual mother griped. "Maybe I'll just choose for you."

His eyes had gone panicked at the threat. He could just imagine her choice. Bubbly, full of energy, never a quiet moment. Someone that was exactly like her. And he would sooner throw himself off his balcony then be forced to share a bed with someone like that.

There was one thing he would agree on. Shinichi was being picky. He had met just about every Princess that was eligible for marriage. And not one of them were what he wanted. None of them were all the same either. Some of them wanting as much to do with him as he wanted them. Which meant not at all. Others were all over him and he knew he would never get a moment's peace.

One thing they all had in common though- their kingdoms. Each one of them had their own laws; their own norms they needed to abide to. But for the most part, they were pretty similar to his own kingdom's and Shinichi didn't understand the point of marrying one of them when they had nothing new to offer his people.

His kingdom was not struggling. His people were flourishing; the society thriving. Which was likely why he had so many offers. Because his kingdom had so much to offer while theirs had nothing but a dowry at best. And he had no need for that. He had plenty of money. He had plenty of land.

Shinichi didn't know how to explain that- or rather he did, and everybody just didn't understand. It was out of complete desperation that he had finally made his choice however. After being summoned by the King- his father, he knew he had taken too long. If he didn't have someone in mind, then a bride would be chosen for him.

But as he stood in his father's study- staring angrily at the desk his father sat before as he practically got reprimanded, his eyes focused on the map that lay sprawled out.

"How about the kingdom in the northern islands?" The thought had hit him as he continued staring at the map- the little cluster of land that was out in the middle of the ocean.

"Northern Isles?" The King furrowed his brows before noticing his son's gaze and following it.

Shinichi could understand his father's trepidation. The Kingdom of the Islands wasn't necessarily their enemy, but they also weren't their allies. After the Great War, and the threat of other more powerful kingdoms showed their colors, they had resorted themselves to complete isolation. That being said, it was a practically unknown kingdom- an entirely other world just to the north of them.

"Getting a response- let alone a positive one, is not likely," his father still appeared confused. "That and we don't even know if they have someone that is eligible for a union with you."

The King caved however. He would send a messenger with their offer. But Shinichi had already been warned.

"If this falls through- I am choosing for you."

The threat made Shinichi sweat. Not that he didn't trust the King. He trusted him more than the Queen. It was just the idea of his choice being stripped away from him.

The plans did not fall through. The response was not quick nor was it immediate, but they had indeed responded. The only thing was, the Princess would not be leaving the islands. Not until he came to visit and presented himself formally.

And got an approval.

As promised, the King left the decision up to his son. So Shinichi packed his bags.

oOo

Though many had traveled to his kingdom in hopes of having their daughter cross his eye, this would be the first he actually had to leave his own land as a possible suitor. Not that it was unusual. It was actually quite odd that he hadn't been doing it that way. But what was more unusual was the amount of effort he was putting in. The amount of effort he was putting in on trying to woo a woman he had never met let alone seen.

Well, some didn't understand but he knew the King was able to figure it out easily.

A foreign land. A foreign kingdom. Foreign Princess. There was so much to be gained from that. Knowledge wise anyway. And since he was confident his kingdom didn't lack anything else, that's all he wanted. He didn't even care to know what the Princess looked like.

And there was so much to learn about this place. The moment they were in what was considered their waters, Shinichi could already feel it from the way the humid air just lifted. The days that he was used to in his kingdom were hot ones and sometimes even the nights. The sun was always out and blazing while there was hardly ever a rainy day to cool it down.

Here, as their ships pulled even closer, a fog seemed to surround them. But the waters were calm and the mist, relaxing. Thankfully they had no issues docking even though the fog was not something they were used to though according to his escort, was very much the norm here.

Shinichi was fascinated either way. He took in the architecture of the buildings, the way people dressed, the way people looked in general. It was so different to his own land and people. He was thankful that if anything, no matter how this meeting went, at least he had seen a place so refreshingly new. Honestly, he envies what their palace looked like and was amazed of how open it was. There were no guards and practically no doors. The buildings for the most part were without windows and if they had them, they were open wide.

And he realized, there was no fear for safety here. Everybody was so open and trusting and though he got quite a few bizarre stares, nobody looked at him in any way short of polite. Shinichi was fully amazed.

But the most baffling thing yet- he needed a translator.

"The Princess can not speak in your tongue."

Shinichi almost couldn't believe his ears. He wanted foreign but maybe this was a little too much. . . How could he marry someone that he couldn't even speak to without someone else standing there to translate for them? Of course he knew that she'd have to learn his language but . . . could he really make that work. . ?

Still, he came all this way. He would meet her. It would be rude to make such a bold offer and to just leave without a word. Not to mention his father would be furious with him and also. . . be picking his future bride if he came back alone.

Shinichi shivered at the thought.

But upon introduction, the way his breath stuttered and how he could practically feel a nervous blush crawling up his neck, was humiliating. That and his instantaneous thought.

He could make this work.

"Her highness, Princess Ran."

The translator was who pulled him out of whatever reverie he had been trapped in and hurriedly, he snapped his mouth shut after having realized it was slightly agape. Stumbling over himself, he quickly bowed his head forward in respect as well as gave a greeting that he could briefly hear being translated to both monarchs.

It was at the quick quip that the Princess replied back that had him looking up slightly from his still bowing position. Of course he didn't understand a word she said but from her tone. . . he could guess. Still, he found himself looking to the translator expectantly.

The man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh. . The Princess welcomes you and your guests. Says she prays you had a safe journey." His eyes were not meeting the Prince's as he spoke.

Yeah- that was definitely not what she said . . . Even now, she was glaring at him with such discontent till finally as if getting sick of looking at him, she looked away, turning her nose up.

Figures. The one Princess he thought he could actually tolerate and she wanted nothing to do with him.

oOo

After their initial meeting and at the refusal of his escort to translate anything the Princess actually said, dinner was a . . tense affair. The King and his wife were welcoming enough. Albeit they obviously didn't trust his intentions quite yet but they hadn't showed any outward malice like their daughter had. It also probably didn't help his image in their eyes if the Princess couldn't even bare to say something the slightest bit kind to him.

Even though it would all have to be said through his escort, Shinichi tried to begin any conversation with her. And each time the translator would look at him almost tired, as if asking if Shinichi were really going to make him try to talk to her again. Shinichi couldn't very well respond properly if he didn't know what she was actually saying to him. It was clear she didn't think highly of him and that the escort was merely trying to keep them cordial. He knew they were aware of how influential his kingdom was and it was clear he didn't want their Princess to risk making him angry with her disrespect. But he couldn't fix what he didn't know.

It was exhausting. And the language barrier was making it all the more frustrating. He was a full day in and had somehow angered the very woman he had basically already proposed to. Shinichi wanted to yell at the escort to cut the formalities- to just tell him what the Princess was saying. Before he could have the chance though, she was already spouting words that sounded as aggravated as she looked. The King responded in kind with the same amount of annoyance but this time, directed at his daughter.

Shinichi could only watch, lost.

The translator gave another uncomfortable cough. "The Princess is not feeling well. She apologizes, but she'd like to take her leave."

Shinichi was pretty sure she wasn't sorry at all but still, he nodded his head slowly while looking at her. "I hope she feels better."

If possible, she seemed even more angry with his response and in a huff, she was spinning out of her chair and exiting the dining hall.

Not long after that, they all excused themselves. Of course his escort showed him to his room. But Shinichi couldn't help but want to wander- though at the moment it may not of been a good idea. He was in foreign lands as it was and already things were tense between him and the Princess. He didn't want to aggravate the situation even more by offending their hospitality- though he'd say what the Princess showed him could hardly be called that.

That line of thinking lasted till he woke up early morning. He was usually a late sleeper but he figured due to the unknown environment, his body woke him up sooner than usual. And he sat in his designated room for about thirty minutes before he concluded that this wasn't going to work.

The Princess already showed she held no interest in his proposal- which was disappointing but there was nothing he could do to change that. The woman wouldn't even look at him unless she had to. So Shinichi figured he'd soak up this opportunity as much as possible for as long as he could. He was only invited to be here for a week, which would shorten if they gave him a response to his proposal earlier. He already had a feeling he'd be turned away so there was no use on dwelling about it or worrying if he'd upset her further. This was a new place for him- a new Kingdom. They spoke another language, held different customs. He would experience everything within his reach before he was forced to leave.

He was up, dressed, and wandering the palace halls in no time.

Again, he couldn't help but be struck by the beauty that went into the kingdom itself. Natural light flooded their halls but the fact there were no windows allowed the cool breeze from outside to flow through easily. Shinichi couldn't believe how . . . open everything was. Had they never had to deal with a threat before? To not even have guards walking around the halls- it amazed as well as reassured him. It was nice for once not to have someone breathing down his neck constantly.

This all was almost like a vacation. A vacation to get him a wife . . . but still-a vacation! He hadn't had one of those in . . well ever. The past few years had been his parents scrambling to get him engaged. As the days passed on, the scrambling got more hectic when they realized he was not making it easy.

But here, it was so open. For once he could experience a nice, sunny day without it being unbearably hot outside. And he had hardly got to experience the town when he arrived. He had been hurriedly rushed to the Palace but that was mostly by his guards wanting to get him somewhere secure. Now that no one was there however, he wondered to one of the larger windows.

He was not insane enough to take a leap from this high up but from this vantage point he could at least look upon what he had walked right by. And it was. . tiny. Not tiny in a bad way but compared to where he lived, the town was so small and quiet. And underdeveloped. But again- that wasn't in a bad way. It was fitting to the kingdom he was standing in. There were more trees and it was all colorful. There were even more animals which had him surprised. Again, his town was too large and noisy for anything to want to come close. And that was if he could ever see over the giant stone wall that served as a barrier between him and his people.

There was no barrier here. And he envied that.

Wind brushing his hair, the tree that was just beside the window finally caught his eye. Like everything else that was outside, it was so bright and full of color. It was filled with vibrant purple flowers that he definitely had never seen before. They were . . breathtaking. And he had never been one to care about such things but even he found his hand reaching out.

He wanted to take one. See if he could possibly press it into his journal to take back home. He had never seen any flower with such bright petals and he was curious if someone at home would be able to identify it for him. Someone he could ask without the use of that terrible translator.

Suddenly someone was yelling out. And from the way he was all alone, he could only assume it was directed at him. Before he could even look over though, his hand that had been leaning forward was roughly slapped and had him stumbling back in shock. Hand ringing from the sharp sting, it was probably funny how he stared at it- eyes wide and blinking.

No one had ever raised a hand to him.

Staring intently where he had been hit, he saw that it was already turning a scorching red and swelling. It honestly hadn't hurt. It was just startling. And finally looking at just who had hit him, he was even more stunned.

"Sorera ni furenaide kudasai!"

The Princess. She was yelling at him looking absolutely furious to the point tears were brimming her eyes. She was angry and that was all he could understand because he still couldn't speak her damn language. For her to slap him though he must've been about to do something awful.

Rubbing his sore hand, he glanced back at the flower he had been about to pluck and realized he had probably greatly offended her. Shinichi had been to other kingdoms where it was forbidden to remove anything from their land- places where they worshiped the actual ground they stood on and it was a crime to simply pull a flower off its branch. Foolishly he thought he'd been alone but he should've known that in a palace, there were eyes everywhere.

When he started rubbing the red flesh attempting to sooth away the sting she gave him, that must've been when she realized what she had done. Even for her it was wildishly outlandish of her to be so forward enough to hit him.

Her violet eyes got huge and she looked almost frightened. He noticed her swallow hard as if gulping before all he could see was the crown of her head, her pretty brunette hair sliding down her shoulders to hang low.

She was bowing. And saying the same thing over and over repeatedly.

"Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai!"

She was apologizing for hitting him. He didn't need to know exactly what she was saying to get that much. But honestly, he didn't even care that she did. His first instinct had told him he was the that should kneel and grovel. He was the one that was wondering around a foreign palace as a guest and with no regard to their laws or customs. Watching her panic though, he could only freeze up. He had not been expecting her to say sorry. She wasn't stopping though and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Uh. . R-Ran-?" Shinichi asked uneasily to get her attention. He did not know anything about her kingdom or their titles but he was sure if he used his own from his home she would've been confused. But he cut himself off when he realized that calling her by her first name alone definitely would've been offensive. That and her name sounded so odd on his tongue. Even with it not being his own language, he knew he sounded every bit the foreigner when he just said her name alone. It probably sounded as awkward as it felt for him to say it.

At his nervous call though, she definitely detected her name somewhere in there because she straightened abruptly to look at him with a red face.

"Don't apologize. I'm sorry," he said belatedly forgetting that she couldn't understand a word he said. When he could practically see the question mark on her face, he looked back at the flower pointedly before pressing his palms together in front of his face as if praying. "I'm sorry." He said that three times as she had done to hopefully get the meaning across as well as he bowed his head slightly.

When he finally looked her in the eye again, she was watching him intently; curiously. She was thinking about something, probably a way to speak where he could actually get what she was saying. She looked both troubled and frustrated that she couldn't properly communicate with him. To make it easier on him, he pointed back to the flower and everything else that was within his reach.

"I won't touch anything," he said firmly as he held his hands up in a defensive gesture. He assumed that's what she had been trying to tell him. That he was not allowed to touch anything that wasn't explicitly handed to him. But when she frowned he got the feeling he was wrong that or he had completely lost her.

Softly she said something, that of course, he could not understand. Her pointing finger at the flower he had just been about to touch gave him a clue though. That as well as why she actually stopped him earlier when she was taking that same pointing finger and dragging it across her neck in a straight horizontal line.

"Shi."

The very obvious and universal symbol for dead.

His eyes widened a bit at she continued to speak. If he hadn't just had the sudden realization he almost died from touching a flower, he would've found it amusing that her tone seemed kind of slow. As if not talking as fast would still help him comprehend another language. But again, he could guess. She was probably explaining what the flower was and how it would've killed him.

It made him frown because he really was curious. He would have to ask once she learned English. That and why did they have a flower that was so deadly, practically inside their palace walls where anybody could make his mistake.

Realizing his mind had already assumed and gotten used to the idea of her leaving with him to his home made him want to slap himself. There was no confirmation yet. If anything he'd probably get the opposite. It was hard not to think that though when she was looking at him for the first time without any malice or disdain. Sure it took him almost dying to get that, but at least it meant she didn't truly hate him. If anything she looked concerned.

That was when he realized her earlier expression of what he thought had been anger hadn't been that at all. It was similar to the one she was staring at him with now. It was panic- worry. Panic that he was that dumb and worried he almost touched a deadly plant. He almost died and wondered what his face looked like as he came to that conclusion.

He really wouldn't touch anything after this.

The Princess seemed to have other ideas. Suddenly she started speaking again and pointing out the window. The blank expression he gave her hopefully showed that he didn't understand but just in case he was sure to tell her that.

Looking outside where she was pointing, he looked back at her drawing a total blank. "I don't understand," he shook his head while shrugging. Hopefully they would be able to communicate through these small gestures. She'd have no way of knowing what he really said but she'd at least be able to guess.

Ran only grinned, probably expecting that. Alarming him, with a soft hand, she gently grabbed his own. His face immediately got a small blush but as he looked at her in shock he realized it wasn't nearly as crimson as her own. By the way it kept getting darker, he knew she was aware that he was watching her intently. She wouldn't look at him though and simply pulled him forward. Her tug wasn't forceful or hard though as her significantly tinier fingers latched onto his palm.

If he had been paying attention to anything but her pretty face, he would've noticed what she was doing a lot sooner. It wasn't till his fingers were brushing against something light and smooth that he looked away.

She had placed his palm on another plant. It was attached to some vines that seemed to coil around the window. This one looked simpler and not nearly as intriguing as the deathly one he had been about to grab, but it was something new all the same and was still able to fascinate him. But when she started rubbing his hand into the petals and in doing so rubbing her hand against his- he recoiled and snapped his hand out from under hers.

Face scorching, it was his turn to swallow in nervousness as he took a small step back. Though he knew she would not understand, he couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?" He didn't know if it was good or bad that she only stared up at him with the most innocent look. It was clear she didn't get why he pulled away. Was that normal to . . . touch people . . like that. . . ?

But then she was laughing and pressing her own palm into the leaves, rubbing her fingers delicately over the petals. When she was done, she stepped forward till she was almost chest to chest with him. Her proximity was starting to make him anxious again but she didn't seem to be as affected. Before he could attempt to move back, she was holding her hands up to him, palms facing upward.

Confused, he didn't really know what to do. Was she asking him to kiss her hand like that snob Princess Momiji? But then she was shoving her fingers forward, as if telling him to hurry up. She kept nudging her head giving him the go ahead sign but it was only when her palm was just under his nose that he understood.

Forgetting his nervousness for a moment, he leaned down slightly towards her awaiting hands. Curiously, he sniffed the tops of her fingers.

His eyes shot open.

"Vanilla?" He questioned completely surprised and also completely forgetting she probably wouldn't understand.

But surprising him, she nodded her head happily. "Banira!" She had a happy smile spread across her face.

Well at least they both understood one word.

Proving his earlier assumptions wrong though, not wasting a second she broke the flower from its tangled vine and held it out to him expectantly. Since he had been thinking it was a crime for him to take such a thing, he only stared at it suspiciously. But her hand shoving closer to him forced him to grab it.

She must've realized he wanted to take one. Twirling the flower by the stem, he looked at it before flicking his gaze back to her. "It's pretty," he complimented to the gift she gave him.

The Princess's head was tilting to the side again in her confusion. "P-pretty. . . ?" Her voice stumbled over the word uncomfortably; her accent twisting it cutely.

Shinichi nodded before nudging his head at her. "Pretty," he said addressing her like an example of the meaning before looking at the flower again. "Pretty," he repeated.

She wasn't getting it. Her brows scrunched as a small frown turned down her lips. But as far as he was concerned it wasn't important to address any of that. Especially if it would be embarrassing for him the moment she did understand. Instead he thanked her for her gift, sticking to his charades to hopefully get their meaning across.

oOo

After his brief and almost fatal exploration, she was kind and escorted him to the dining hall where they could be served breakfast. The moment he was in sight, the translator had been attached to him, almost panicking and wondering where he had been for the entire morning.

Shinichi was never one to lie. He was upfront and explained that he had walked around. Of course he left out the part where the Princess slapped him and just . . . the Princess in general. When they had started talking, he hadn't even been thinking.

It was incredibly offensive to just be walking around alone with a Princess- especially one you had proposed to. They were both unaccompanied and since he didn't know their customs very well, it would probably be best to assume that that was the same no matter what kingdom he journeyed to. As way of excuse for walking in with her, he explained that they had run into each other just outside the door. The translator didn't seem to care to question it and wanting to get further away from the topic, he asked to be shown a tour.

His escort knew a lot, Shinichi could tell. But the man mostly seemed focused on explaining their laws. Some of their customs were bizarre. They had . . female guards. It wasn't unheard of for a woman to want to become a knight in his kingdom but it seldom ever happened. They didn't grow up with the same league and in most cases, fell behind and became outclassed. Here, it seemed it may have almost been the opposite.

"The Princess took some lessons herself," the translator boasted proudly and Shinichi's brows raised further. It was odd enough for a woman to do such things but a Princess?  But now that the topic had reverted to Ran, he became curious.

"Princess Ran," he started slowly while looking at his feet as he trailed along beside his escort. "Why does she dislike me so much?" He knew it was bold of him to ask such a question so outright but he didn't know how else to get a straight answer. The Princess herself would probably tell him if she could but with their language barrier that obviously wasn't a possibility.

Like he knew it would, the subject made the translator uncomfortable. He did not want to address this topic and Shinichi was pretty sure it was because he didn't want to upset nor offend another monarch from another kingdom. The Prince didn't say anything however and simply waited for a response.

When he thought he wouldn't be getting an answer and that the translator looked like he wanted to claim he himself couldn't understand, the man sighed in defeat. "She doesn't like how . . . popular you are," his escort said a little unsurely.

Shinichi's brows raised. That had not been what he was expecting and he was honestly confused by the response. They were royalty. Weren't they all popular in their own right?

The translator winced. "That wasn't the best way to say that. You must understand your language is not my first," he apologized. "It's not you necessarily that she doesn't like. It's what your kingdom represents."

He still wasn't following. His face must've shown that because the older man looked troubled trying to think of the vocabulary to get his point across.

"Your kingdom is known far and wide, Prince. Even in our isolated state we knew of you. Her being an eligible maiden, our King was also aware you were looking for a bride."

"So she does not want to be married . . . ?" Shinichi questioned doing his best to understand.

"The Princess does not want to change," the man clarified. "She knows that if she were to marry you, she would have to leave with you; not meaning just her home. She would have to abandon her customs, her laws- her language."

Suddenly it all made sense to him. And all at once he felt like a jerk. But at the same time, he also felt like he was extremely misunderstood. He had no intention of forcing her to conform. He had no desire to change her. Yes, if they were to be wed, she'd have to learn the language of his home. But that didn't mean he wanted to completely eradicate her own. Because if they were married, it would no longer be just his home or her home. It would be their home.

Maybe his intentions hadn't been clear enough.

When he happened to find her alone again, he came at her like an explosion.

"I don't want you to change!" His voice was raised and he probably looked angry. It wasn't at all surprising that she took a step back. He was probably scaring her. But he took the same step forward and noticing she had a book in her hands, he pulled it from her without even thinking.

She gave a startled gasp but did not fight him. Again, she looked like she wanted to put some distance between them. But he wouldn't allow her to. Much like she had done to him yesterday, he snatched her hand into his own and tugged her closer.

He wasn't thinking clearly. If he had been he would’ve stopped the moment he heard her small yelp but he just wanted her to understand him. She thought wrongly of him and he wanted to correct that image of him. He wanted to change the incorrect assumptions she created about him.

Taking her palm that was latched in his own, he forced her fingers onto the page that was wide open; the page she had been reading before he rudely bombarded her. "Teach me," he said completely serious, his eyes staring into hers intently. "I want to learn."

He knew she was probably still freaked out and had no idea what he was saying. She probably thought he was losing his mind, which he very well might be. He just snatched a book she had been reading and started yelling at her in a language she could not understand.

But when she finally glanced up to meet his gaze, his breath hitched. She had been staring bizarrely at where he had forced her hand, but once she was looking at him directly, she didn't look frightened anymore. She looked incredulous and still a little unsure.

"Your language," he reiterated slowly while also pantomiming and gesturing to the writing that was very clearly in a language he could not discern- her language. Then he was pointing at his chest that was heaving from how worked up he had gotten. "I want to learn."

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 91

Warnings: mentions of depression, anxiety, PTSD,  past suicide attempt (very brief mention)

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

Tyler drifts off with Addie on his chest. Lulled to sleep by the feathery weight of her tiny body;  the warmth that radiates from it and how it slowly and rhythmically rises and falls against him. Relaxed by the sound of each soft breath and the occasional murmur and sigh, the way those impossibly small hands tightly fist the fabric of his hospital gown and the familiar scent that clings to her clothes. It had felt good to inject some sense of normalcy into the uncertainty of his current situation. Able to cuddle her and shower her with kisses and run his fingers through her hair; marvelling at how fast it’s growing and how thick  and even darker it’s becoming. The withdrawal induced trembling in his hands has begun to dissipate, giving him the opportunity to feed her a bottle and even master changing her diaper while  lying on one thigh and using only his left hand. And her mere presence has lessened the profound homesickness and how desperately he misses his other children; being able to see her smile and hear her babbling and having all those tiny fingers curl around one of his. It had lifted his spirits and ease some of fears and worries surrounding the safety and security of his family;  knowing and seeing with his two eyes that she’s alive and thriving  despite all of the threats and the close call in Anil’s house.  Every second spent with her only  fuelling his desire to get home; feeding that determination to get his feet back under him, figuratively AND literally.  

He hates the feeling of helplessness; being dependent on others and constantly worrying that he’s a burden.  Being stripped of the ability to even do the simplest of things for yourself is a blow to the ego; mundane tasks like feeding yourself and brushing your teeth and being able to get to the bathroom on your own.  Things that people often overlook and take for granted; washing your own hair and holding a knife and fork and being able to actually get out of bed and not be relegated to staring at the same four walls for hours on end. He can’t watch tv; even the simplest and stupidest of story lines too difficult for his brain to comprehend. Reading a book is out of the question when you can’t remember what happened only a page ago. Even conversations are difficult to maintain and follow; forgetting things easily, asking the same questions over and over again, then becoming frustrated and lashing out when he can’t retain the information.  He often feels as if he’s a prisoner in his own body; trapped in bed in the same damn position, unable to move because of an IV and med line inserted into his chest and his right leg held captive by a metal ‘cage’.  

Nothing is worse than not being able to feel your legs; rendered immobile  and harboring the fear that a temporary issue will turn out to be a permanent one.   The panic sets in every time he wakes up and CAN’T feel anything from the waist down; moments before the disorientation and confusion lift and he can’t recall where he is, how he got there, or the dozens of times he’s been told about his injuries.  It is near crippling; that terror before full comprehension when he realizes he can’t feel his legs; not even the smallest of movements even though his brain is screaming at them to budge. And it’s frustrating; not being in full control of even the simplest of things; when and how long he sleeps, what he can eat, how much meds are being pumped into his system. He’s used to being a man of action; unable to sit still for more a few minutes at a time.

The thought of no longer being  ‘that guy’ haunts him; that fear and worry -that he won’t be able to return to the life he remembered and enjoy it to the fullest- making him feel physically ill.  Not the job side of things; he’d be more than happy to spend the rest of his time in the game running things behind the scenes and no longer getting his hands dirty. But it’s the OTHER side. The dad that is hands on and ‘stands up’.  Playing and rough housing with his kids; taking them swimming and surfing and  hiking  in the woods and on camping and fishing trips.  He wants to still be able to coach their soccer and lacrosse games and help Millie with her martial arts sparring.  And one day, far down the road, he wants to be able to walk both her and Addie down the aisle; tears in his eyes as he gives them away to their future husbands and watches them start their new lives.  It’s the scariest thing of all; not being even half the man he used to be.  He can live with the mental health issues and the chronic pain; he’s been functioning that way for years. But not being able to be an active participant in his children’s lives? It’s a heartbreaking thing to consider.

But having Addie with him has helped to squash some of that fear. At least temporarily.  Her presence serving as the motivation he needs to fight harder than he’s ever fought before. He has people relying on him. Counting on him to be both provider and protector, and he  refuses to let them down. He’s done it too many times before; made promises he never kept, said things and then done the complete opposite. This time he needs to make permanent changes; no longer improving things and keeping them that way for a couple of years and then falling back into hold habits and expecting his wife to stick around. He’s taken advantage of that more than once; her willingness to stay and work on things despite threatening to walk away.  He doesn’t want to be that guy any more; the one that takes someone’s love, trust, and faith in him  and uses it against them. He’s not proud of it; knowing exactly what her fears and worries are and then using them to get his own way.  But he’s never done it maliciously; never with the intent to control her or manipulate or hurt her.  It had been the last ditch efforts of a desperate man; afraid of losing the love of his life and having his family torn apart, yet unsure of how to exactly change and fix himself.

And then  there’s the irrational side of him; the dark and torturous part of his brain that likes to torment him.  Telling him that this will be the deal  clincher. Not his weakness for booze and prescription painkillers and his recurring slides back into dependency, but the absolute mess his body is in.  That IF he can never use his legs again and he’s reduced to being half the man he was -and she fell in love with- that she’ll leave. Not because she doesn’t love him; he doesn’t question or doubt that and never has. But it will be too much on her already overflowing plate; a woman that has to not only take care of five little ones and carry a sixth, but would have to be his caretaker as well.  He wouldn’t be able to help her out in the same way he does now; his physical challenges preventing him from being the husband and father that he was before. His mind screams at him that he’d be a burden; that one day she’d look at him and he wouldn’t see love and adoration in her eyes, but pity.  And he simply couldn’t handle that; her looking at him as if he’s completely broken and damaged.  

Since the weaning off of the sedation had begun, the dreams have returned.   Not quite nightmares, but only a few shades shy.  As his brain  becomes more lucid and the haziness and confusion start to lift, he’s left with jumbled pieces of a very vivid puzzle; sights and sound even smells from inside the storage facility.  In the initial wakeful moments, he couldn’t remember anything past taking a shot  in the back. The way the sound echoed through the locker  and the bullet slammed into him; the initial shock of his body being pitched forward and his legs collapsing under him and then hitting the floor.  Nothing after that.  No recollection of how he’d come to have a broken nose and lines of stitches over and under his right eye and a badly busted femur.  Things are clearer now; coming more into focus as the powerful meds make their way out of his system.  Little snippets of events; Nathan kneeling on his back; the feel of sharp bone being pressed into the fresh bullet wound and the brief loss of feeling in his legs.  Fingers being shoved into the hole; as deep as possible. The glint of a knife blade and that initial pinch of the tip pressed against his skin; the agony...the burning...of  it being dragged -bone deep- from under his eye to his temple.   A cell phone; recording every second of his time in that locker. Every indignity, every torturous moment.  Nathan fully intending to send Esme the footage; a little ‘entertainment’ before she met her own demise.

There isn’t much beyond that. At least not images he fully trusts. A failed escape attempt, vile and horrific threats specifically targeting his wife and daughters, a pair of dirty combat boots,  a gunshot. He isn’t sure what’s legit; if the snapshots he’s seeing are real or if they’re nothing more than events made up by a weary and troubled mind.  But he can smell it; the putrid, nauseating mixture of old sweat, urine, and feces that had clung to that dirty mattress. And the taste; the salt of his own perspiration and that metallic tinge of blood.

It’s a loud bang in the hallway that startles him awake. The usual confusion and disorientation replaced by hyper-vigilance; not fully aware of his surroundings, but assessing the presence of possible threat, and somehow knowing that he has people to protect. His hand immediately goes to his hip; reaching for a gun nestled inside its holster. Instead his fingers find nothing but cool, crisp sheets and smooth, cold metal of the ‘cage’ that encases his thigh. Anxiety begins to take hold now; not of potential danger lurking beyond the closed door but of his surroundings.  The stark white walls and the distinct smell of antiseptic and clean solution. The IV pole and patient monitor parked next to the bed; mattress impossibly firm against and below him and metal railings keeping him safely confined. The pinch and sting in the left side of his chest; discomfort from both the told holding down the tubing and the needle of the central line itself.  

A hospital.

I’m in a fucking hospital.

The realization brings both panic and terror. Both of his lungs and his throat constrict; chest tightening painfully as sweat beads across his forehead and gatherers at his temples and the nape of his neck. There’s no one to fight so his brain chooses flight; attempting to kick off the blankets in hopes of escaping. Only nothing happens; not a wriggle in his toes or a twitch in the soles of his feet or even the simple flex of a calf or thigh muscle. Legs numb and lifeless yet somehow feeling impossibly heavy at the same time. And useless. Completely fucking useless. And the nauseous and light-headedness hit; unable to remember any of the dozens of times he’d been told about his legs. He questions what’s happening. If it’s temporary or permanent.  Trying to rack his brain for some sort of explanation but finding nothing but muddled thoughts and worst fears and sheer dread.  Remembering those threats made against his family; torturous, inhumane things that would be done to them before their deaths.

Are they? Dead? Is he the only one in his entire family that managed to survive? Is someone going to come in and deliver the news? A grim faced Nik or Anil? Maybe a sorrowful Koen and a frazzled Rata? Who would get the short straw and be relegated to telling him the cold, hard truth; that everyone he loves...everyone who had loved HIM...is  gone. The tears come; bitter and hot. Loud, angry and sorrowful sobs of devastation.  The kind of grief that robs you of your sanity and rocks you to your very soul.

It’s Addie that snaps him out of  it.  Initially startled by the jolt he’d given upon waking and then further troubled by the violent trembling of his body and the severity of his sobs.  Her shrill cries managing to pierce through the panic; helping to bring him clarity and a sense of balance. As quick as it had come on, it dissipates. Hearing her wails and feeling her body wriggling against him  successfully grounding him.   And he briefly closes his eyes; sucking air through aching lungs and releasing it slowly and shakily.  Waiting until the tremors stop and the tears cease to fall before looking down at his daughter.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, and uses both hands to move her further up his chest; wincing at the pain that takes hold in his right shoulder. And he quickly checks her body; those tiny arms and legs, terrified that he’ll find scratches or bruises on her. Worried that  in the midst of his panic and confusion, he had hurt her; tightening his grip enough to cause her both pain and fear.  “I’m sorry, little peanut. I didn’t mean to scare  you.”  He presses a kiss to her forehead, then places a hand on the back of her head and  rests his nose against his brow. “I’m so sorry. Daddy is so fucking sorry.”

“What’s going on?”  Esme asks, voice sleepy as she raises her head from the arm of the small pullout.   She’d been the first to sleep; one moment talking to him as he fed Addie, then out like a light the next. Succumbing to the exhaustion brought on by her own stress and worry.  “What’s wrong with Addie? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I think so. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Do what?” She pushes her hands through hair; securing it in a ponytail with the elastic tie around her wrist. “What happened?”

“I scared her. By accident. I didn’t mean it.”

Fuck. The tears come again; a mixture of guilt, frustration, and anger. So much animosity and disgust.  At Nathan  for causing as much damage as he did;  rendering his body utterly useless and turning his own brain against him.  At himself for turning his back on the situation; ignoring all the warning signs and red flags and Koen’s insistence at leaving the former Marine behind. Had he NOT taken the phone call and allowed himself to be distracted, he never would have taken his eyes off of things and Nathan wouldn’t have been able to get the upper hand.  He would have been able to outsmart AND overpower; his skills and sheer strength and his years on the job far exceeding those of the younger man.   HAD he kept his head in the game, he wouldn’t be where he is now; body torn to shit, no feeling in his legs, pissing out of tube, unable to even feed himself.

And THAT makes him even angrier. For even thinking that way about her.  The one person that has stood by him through thick and thin over the course of the last seven years. Who’d exchanged her old life for a new one with him; never returning home after Dhaka and sticking by his side during his hospital stay and through the months of gruelling and painful rehab. Who’d never abandoned him during his weaker moments; the times he slipped back into old habits and relied on booze and pain meds to cope with his issues.  Who had saved his life and given him a second chance; giving him five beautiful children and a life that he never thought was possible.  

She climbs off the couch, shoving her feet into a pair of flip flops and then journeying towards him. “What’s going?

“It just happened.  I didn’t mean it.”  It sounds annoying even to his own ears; the almost whiny, pitiful tone to his voice.

“Hey...stop…”  She runs a hand through his hair and presses a kiss to his cheek.  Her voice never changes, always gentle and patient. Loving. And while he appreciates it, he also loathes that hint of condescension; that tiny nuance in her tone -or so he thinks- that sneaks through. The one that says she sees him as weak and  pathetic. That he needs to be coddled and babied.  “You don’t need to get upset. I’m sure she’s fine.  I don’t know what happened, but…”

“No. You DON’T now.”

“Just calm down, okay? You’re drenched in sweat and you’re shaking and you’re pale.  You just need to…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he snarls.

“Like what? How am I talking to you? I’m worried about you. I’m not…”

“Like THAT. That fucking tone. Don’t do it. Don’t use that fucking tone with me.”

“I don’t have a tone, Tyler.  I’m just…”

“I know you want to help, but talking to me like that...treating me like THIS...it’s not helping. AT all.”

“Okay, I don't know what happened or why you’re reading into everything I’m saying or  why you’re so worked up and taking it out on me, but…”

“If you never called, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She blinks. “What?”

“If you hadn't called while I was there, I wouldn’t have turned my back on him. I would have had my head in the game and I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be home. With my kids.”

She sighs heavily, shoulders and jaw tensing.  “You’re blaming me for this?”

“I turned my back on him. To talk to you. If I never did that…”

“I didn’t know you were with him. I didn’t know how far into things you were. I was hoping that I’d get a hold of you before you found him. I was trying to help.”

“Thanks for that,” he scoffs. “Look what your help did. Look where I am. Look at how fucked up things. Look at ME. I can’t even feel my fucking legs.  I’m stuck here; in this goddamn bed. In Dhaka. My kids are thousands of miles away! That’s how much you helped.”

He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth.  The impact his words have on her is immediate;  the way she recoils backwards as if physically struck, how she scrapes her top teeth over her bottom lip, the tears that fill her eyes.   It isn’t the first time he’s hurt her. And he knows it won’t be the last. It’s who he is; the guy that destroys everything around him and either pushes away the people that love him, or abandons them altogether.

“You think this is my fault? You think I caused this? That I’m the reason this happened to you? Is that what you honestly think?”

“If I hadn’t answered, he wouldn’t have gotten the upper hand. If I’d been focused and…”

“You ARE blaming me. You really are, aren’t you.”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying…”

“Oh, I know what you’re saying. And what you’re saying IS blame. You think it’s my fault that you’re here; messed up and laying in a hospital bed. I’m the one to blame for all of this.”

“If you hadn’t called…”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tyler. I know this is a shitty fucking time right now. I know you’re in pain and you’re scared and you’re angry and you’re worried. I get it. I do. Because I’m the one that’s here with you. I’m the one that sees what you’re going through. But I’m going through this too! Not just you. I’m the one that has to watch the person I love for more than anything in the world go through all of this bullshit. I’m thousands of miles away from my kids, too. You think I want to be there? You think I want you to suffer like this? You think this is a fucking picnic for me? Fuck you for blaming me. For even thinking that about me.”

“And you tell me to calm down?”

Her eyes narrow. “Give me the baby.”

“She’s fine. She’s starting to calm. She’s…”

“I said give her to me!” Esme snaps, and then scoops Addie from his arms. The baby’s cries lessening as both face and tiny hands begin their search for the breast; pulling and nuzzling at her shirt. “Okay little miss…” her voice is gentler and quieter, and she presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead as her fingers tend to the buttons on her shirt. “Be patient, my love. It’s coming, I promise. I’m sorry it’s not instantaneous.”

“She shouldn’t be hungry,” Tyler comments. “I just fed her a couple of hours ago.”

“She’s not after a regular feed. She’s after a comfort feed. It’s what she does when she gets worked up over something. It’s her new thing. I think I know what I’m doing; I’m her mother.”

“See, I didn’t realize that. That you are. I thought she just magically showed up on the doorstep one day.”

Esme’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be a dick.”    

She drops heavily onto the couch and lays Addie against her chest; the infant immediately latching on, cries turning into  tiny whimpers and soft sniffles,  then content murmurs.  He watches them out of the corner of his eye. Mother and daughter with their matching  colour and texture of hair and the exact same profiles; those cute little noses with the freckles across the bridge, the smooth curve to their chins, the long, dark eyelashes.  Noticing the way the  fingers of one of Addie’s hands curl around Esme’s necklace, the others pulling and twisting at the edges of her shirt.  And how gentle and loving his wife is; a palm running over their baby girl’s hair as she talks to her about all the pretty bows and clips she’s going to be able to wear soon, a soft smile curving her lips.

It’s a beautiful smile.

SHE’S beautiful.

*****

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she keeps her tone quiet and soothing, eyes never leaving the baby. “Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“You’re not usually the type that says things he doesn’t mean. You’ve never been that way.  You always say what you mean.”

“Not that time. I don’t blame you. I know it’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not. You said it. And it hurt. It hurt a hell of a lot.”

“And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I never meant to say it. You’re right; I am scared and worried and angry and I do miss my kids. And I snapped and I lashed out and you just happened to be the person here when I did.”

“Funny how I always seem to be the one that is here when you do. Guess I’m your favorite target to take your shit out on.”

“You know that’s not true. You know I never mean it; the shit I say when I lose it.”

“Well it still hurt. And you can live with that for a while. You don’t think I hate this? That we’re stuck here? That you’re laid up like this? That this all happened in the first place? You don’t think I’d rather be home? With you and the kids? I don’t want ANY of this. I don’t want you pain, I don’t want you going through months of therapy. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I know.”

“I already blame myself. I don’t need you doing it too.”

Tyler frowns. “Why would you blame yourself? Why…?”

“I didn’t know that first letter...the one supposedly from the Corps...was a fake. And I should have been able to tell when I looked; I should've known it wasn’t real.  And I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. There was no way you could have known that it was all bullshit.”

“I feel like I should have known. That I should have been able to look at it and tell it was fake. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it. Because if I had, I wouldn’t have sent you out there.”

“You didn’t send me anywhere. I went out there willingly. You had nothing to do with that. And I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t even know why I said the shit I did. Because it’s not what I think OR how I feel.”

“It still hurt.”

“I fucked up. And I’m sorry. I hate myself for saying it. For letting all this get to me; for taking it out on you. I would never hurt you. Intentionally. You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”

“I do. I DO know that. I know that you’re not thinking right. That all the meds and the stress and the worry are messing you up and that your brain does it’s own thing when it’s going through shit like this. But you still hurt me Tyler. Whether you meant to or not.”

“I know I did. And I’ll apologize a million times if I have to. I love you; you know I do.”

“I love you too. But right now? Right now I don’t like you very much. And I have that right. To be pissed with you.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You do.”

“I don’t even know what caused all of this; what happened with Addie. Why did she wake up crying like that? What…?”

“Things are starting to come back. About that day. In the storage place. Before I could only remember up to a certain point. But now it’s all coming to me. It’s all mixed up and out of  order, but IS coming back. Just like you said it would.”

Sighing heavily, she glances down at Addie and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“It’s going to get ugly. Really ugly. And I don’t want it going too far. I don’t want there to be a third time; where I put a gun in my mouth. Because that’ll be the time where I DO go through with it. And that’s not what I want. I don’t want to leave you and the kids. That’s the last thing I want.”

“What do you want me to do? IS there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits.  “I really don’t.  But I know I need help. Before it goes too far.”

“I can talk to Julie. She might have ideas or know someone can reach out to. We’re in a hospital. There has to be people here you can talk to.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone. I talk to you.”

“You need someone other than me. Someone who does this sort of thing. A professional. “

He scowls. “I don’t want to talk to a fucking shrink.”

“Well you need one. You need someone that knows about PTSD and depression and knows ways to help you. I can only do so much, Tyler. And I’m tired. I love you. With everything I am and everything I have. But I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. And I’ve got a baby inside of me that I’m trying to keep alive and Addie’s here, but I’ve got four little kids thousands of miles away that I miss and I’m worried about. I don’t have much more to give.”

He sighs heavily, eyes downcast as his fingers fidget with loose strands of threads on the bottom of his hospital gown.  

“Do you want me to go home?” Esme asks. “To the kids?”

“That’s the last thing  I want. You leaving. And maybe that makes me selfish as fuck, I dunno. Maybe I’m an asshole for keeping you from them and making you feel obligated to be here.”

“I don’t stay because I feel obligated. I stay because I love you. The same reason I stayed seven years ago. Only a billion times more intense.”  

He nods slowly, considering her words.

“I’ve never felt obligated. I’ve never felt guilted. Not seven years ago, not now, not anytime between. I’m here because I love you  and I don’t want you to be alone. And you would do the exact same thing for me. I know you would. So don’t ever question why I stay. Why I stick it out through the things I do.  You should already know the answer.”

“I don’t want you to leave.  And I know it’s probably better if you DID...for you and the kids...but I don’t want you to.”

“Then I’ll stay.  We  know they’re safe and we know they’re being taken care of.  And if things keep going the way they are now, you’ll be getting sent home soon. And that’ll make everything easier on all of us.  But right now we need to concentrate on what’s going on here. You said you remembered things. Is that what happened? With Addie?”

He nods.

“More than what you remembered before?”

“There’s a few new things. It was a dream. I think. Or maybe I was awake and I was just reliving it in my head. I honestly don’t know. But I was back there. With him. And Addie was sleeping on me and there was a loud noise and I freaked out; thought it was a threat and that I had to protect you and her. And then things started clearing up and I realized where I was and I just lost it. I didn’t even remember her being with me. I thought you were dead.  I thought ALL of you were dead.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m sorry you’re going through this. That your brain is doing this to you.”

“I don’t know if I scared her or the noise in the hall did,  but she was crying and it snapped me out of.  And if it WAS  me?   I didn’t mean to do it. I’d never hurt her.”

“I know you wouldn’t. And so does she. Look at her; she’s already looking for you and listening to your voice.”

He glances over, a smile tugging the corners of the mouth when he finds Addie intently watching him out of the corner of her eye. One of her hands abandoning their tugging of her mother’s necklace in favour of reaching for him; head turning completely towards him, a smile of her own spreading from ear to ear.

“That was definitely a comfort feed, wasn’t it little miss?”  Esme pulls her shirt closed across her body and stands up.  “You want to go back and see daddy, don’t you. Traitor.”

“I don’t want her to be  scared of me. I don’t…”

“She’s not scared of you in the slightest,” Esme assures him, and returns the baby to his chest. “Even IF you did startle her, she’s obviously forgiven you. You’re her daddy. How could she not? She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“I would never...ever...hurt her. Any of them.”

“I know.”  She pushes a hand through his hair and drops a kiss on the top of his head. “Are you okay? You’re still shaking a bit. Want me to see if they’ll give you something lightweight? Calm your nerves but not knock you out?”

“I don’t want to take any more meds. I’m already taking enough.”

“They’re all things you need. Adding something to  keep you calm or to balance your moods out won’t hurt.”

“I don’t want anything else. Enough. I don’t want anymore shit put in me. I just want to get the fuck out here.”

“And you will. I know it seems like it’s never going to happen, but look how far you’ve come in just a week. No more sedation after tonight, no more nerve blocks. Once you feel your legs again, you can even start therapy. It won’t be much at first, but it’ll be something, right?”

“Honestly, I just want to be able to take a leak. In a toilet.”

“See! You have that to look forward to, too. After you get the feeling back in your legs, things will start going back to normal.”

“I just want to go home.” He feels the sting of tears again; that loneliness that eats at him whenever he thinks of those four remaining little ones anxiously awaiting his return.  “Just get the fuck out of Dhaka and never think of it again.”

It’s the worst it’s ever been; the homesickness. Every time he’s away he feels it; those little pangs that come with missing the ones you love but knowing you’ll be reunited with them very soon.  The hurt is profound; the uncertainty of when he'll actually be able to see them again. Hold them in his arms and kiss them and hear their voices and their giggles.  He hasn’t even been able to bring himself to contact them; knowing he’d never be able to keep his emotions in check during a video chat or telephone call. And they keep asking; wondering when he’s going to feel well enough to see them and talk to them. Knowing full well that he’d never just up and abandon them.

“Soon,” Esme assures him, as she perches on the edge of the bed and drapes an arm across his shoulders. “I promise it’ll be soon. You’re doing so well. A week ago, I was showing up here and I didn’t know if you’d make it out of surgery, not alone get up to a ward. And I’m proud of you. You never give up. And thanks for totally proving that neurologist wrong. The one who said not to expect much from you. I could have killed that guy.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted to, believe me. He doesn’t know you. Not like I do. I knew you were going to fight like hell to get back to us. Feels good, right? Shoving it in his face.”

He manages a small grin. “Feels damn good, actually.”

“I’ll never complain about how stubborn you are ever again.  Because it is certainly paying off. See…”  she runs her fingers through Addie’s hair. “....she DOES have your smile. Eye crinkles and everything.  They all have it.”

“Maybe. But she looks just like her momma though. Which is a good thing. A very good thing.”

“I figured eventually one would. I wonder what number six is going to look like.”

“We need to find out more about number six. Like when number six is actually supposed to arrive. I feel like that’s something we should probably know.”

“Three days and we find out. Are you excited? Or after the first five are you just so over the process that you don’t give a shit anymore?”

“How can I not be excited? We made a human being together. That’s pretty awesome.”

“And we’ve somehow managed to do it SIX times.”

“Those five  times we had sex were great,” he teases.  

“Day we made the twins must have been extra great. Two in one shot! Extra great or you were extra lucky. I’m going with the latter; I’m pretty sure it happened on your birthday.”

“If that WAS when it happened, it was extra great.  By the way, I heard what you said the other day. About thinking it’s more than one. You really do? Think that?”

“I don’t know.  Something feels...different.”

“Different bad or…?”

“Not bad.  Just different. And not just because this…”  she lays a hand on either side of her ever growing bump. “...is this big already.  I just feel different. I can’t explain it. I just know how I feel.”

“But it’s not bad, right? Like your body’s not telling you there’s something wrong or…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  It’s just different. I don’t feel like I did when I was having Millie or Declan or Addie. I sort of feel like I did when I was having the twins but not quite.”

“What if it’s more than two?”

“You’re good, but you’re not THAT good.  Our track record is one or two. I don’t think we’re destined for three. Or four.”

“Four? What the fuck?”

“That happens? I will be the first to admit you have super sperm.”

“That better not happen or I’ll cut my own balls off.”

“I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about,” she ruffles his hair. “I think your balls are safe. You know what else I was thinking?”

“I’m almost scared to ask.”

“A water birth.”  

He arches both brows.

“What’s that look for?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“We’ve talked about it before.  It’s been an option a couple of times.”

“Yeah, but that’s all it’s been. An option.”

She grins. “It freaks you out, doesn’t it.”

“Just a bit.”

“If I can give birth to Declan naturally on my own living room floor, I think I can give birth in the water.”

“I know you can handle it. It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“You managed to deliver your son without passing out and you never even came close to fainting with Addie.”

“I HAD to stay conscious for Declan or else you were doing all the work yourself and you were only in labour with Addie for half an hour. I didn’t have time to get freaked out.”

“You were the easiest,” Esme addresses the baby.  “Like ten minutes of pushing and that was it. Your sister was the worst. Thirty six hours.  From start to finish. I said never again.”

“Mommy lied.”

“Daddy talks a good game and he convinced her to try for one more. Only we ended up with two.”

“And then daddy said no more and mommy talked him into  going for number four. Because your mom has powers.  And she uses them to get what she wants.”

“Don’t listen to him, Addie. He’s very persuasive. It was all him. I know he looks all tough and mean, but he’s a sweet talker. Especially when he’s in the right mood.”

He frowns and cups his hands over Addie’s ears. “That’s dirty talk, not sweet talk. Don’t teach her those things.”

“You know very well that you can be a sweet talker. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. You don’t have a reputation to uphold when it’s just the three of us.”

He removes his hands from Addie’s ears. “With you? Your mom totally seduced me.”

“You lie!” Esme laughs, and playfully -and gently- nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. “That is NOT how it happened at all. If anyone was doing the seducing, it was you. I am totally innocent.”

“There hasn’t been anything innocent about you in years.”

"Because YOU corrupted me. Three days after we met, you seduced me with your pretty blue eyes and your big hands and crazy muscles. “

He grins. “And my butt.”

“Yes. We can’t forget that butt.”  She presses a kiss to his ear, then closes her eyes as she rests the side of her head against his. Neither speak for several minutes; the only sounds the light hum of the morphine pump and Addie’s soft babbling and cooing.

“You’re chatty,”  Tyler breaks the silence. “Like your momma.”

“She has a lot to say for someone who can’t talk yet. Remind you of someone else that always has a lot to say?”

He looks up at her, a grin playing on his lips.

“Millie,” they say in unison, then laugh.

“She has always had a lot to say,” Esme says, and pushes her hand through his hair, letting the strong top strands slip slowly through her fingers. “She definitely doesn’t get THAT from you. Everything else though…”

“I don’t know, I think she got a lot of really good things from you. She’s lucky you’re her momma. They all are.”

“I think they lucked out in the daddy department too.”

“They definitely hit the genetic jackpot.  Our DNA mixed together?”

“We do make beautiful babies, don’t we”

“Yeah…” he lifts Addie further up onto his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. “...we sure do.”

“You going to be okay when I take her? You’re not going to miss her too much?”

“I’m going to miss both of you. I’ve gotten used to you being here.”

“It’s just for the rest of the day and the night.  Andy will be here with you. You won’t be alone.”

He frowns. “You make it sound like I DO need a babysitter.”

“You know what’s not what I’m trying to sound like at all. I’d just rather someone be here with you. And with Koen taking Rata to the airport and Andy offering me his room…”

“It’s just going to be weird; not having you here.  I sound pretty fucking pathetic, don’t it. Whining about a girl.”

“Excuse you, I’m not just some girl. And you’re not whining and you don’t sound pathetic. You’re going through a lot. I don’t want you to be alone anymore than you want to BE alone. But I need rest, Tyler. I really do. I love you, but I’m tired. And I’m trying to grow a baby here. They need me to take care of myself.”

“It was my idea, remember? You getting a room over there. I know you need rest. You’re not the only one who worries, you know. I worry about you a lot. I worry about you all the time.”

“And I love you so much for that, I do. But right now? I need you to worry about yourself. I’m fine. I just need some time away. Not from you. Away from all of this. It’s not you, you know that, right?”

He nods.

“And what’s that old saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Baby…” he tips his head back to look up at her. “I don’t think it’s possible for my heart to grow any fonder for you.”

“You know,” she grins, and leans down to kiss. “You really DO have your cute moments.”

****

An earlier text sneakily sent to Julie has the nursing showing up an hour before her shift. They meet in the small coffee shop in the hospital’s front lobby, then retreat to the outside courtyard; a table in the shade, far enough from nosy ears and prying eyes.  

“I can’t wait until THEY aren’t needed anymore,” Esme grumbles, and jerks her head over her shoulder, motioning to one of Anil’s people lingering twenty feet away; clad in a well tailored linen suit, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, and a gun on his hip.

Julie sips her iced coffee, then scoops Addie from her carrier; a hand under each of the baby’s arms, supporting her as she ‘stands’ on the woman’s thighs.  She’s not only been genuinely motherly to both Esme and Tyler since his admittance, but has taken on the ‘grandma role’ as well;  displaying a soft spot for that tiny, bright eyed, dark haired baby.  And the feeling is reciprocated; Addie never failing to smile and babble happily when in Julie’s care.   “Has there been trouble?”

“There’s been some whispers, but nothing that can be substantiated.  It’s probably nothing more than pissed off street thugs trying to stir the pot.  There’s nothing for them to gain by coming after us; there’s no money to be had.  The bounty was called off right before Mahajan was taken care of.   Anil made sure of that. Forced the words out of him and recorded it.   Once he was dead, all hope of getting rich died with him.”

She’s unsure what  had made her be so open and honest regarding just HOW they’d ended up in the ICU of a hospital in Bangladesh; a mercenary husband isn’t something she tends to talk about. Not out of embarrassment or shames or because she cares what other people will think, but because that information could be dangerous in the wrong hands.  It’s foolish to think that there aren’t  there  aren’t others   out there seeking revenge for perceived wrong doings; a man like Tyler Rake doesn’t get the reputation he has without stepping on a lot of toes or ruffling a lot of feathers. It’s for her family’s safety; the less people know about them and their lives, the safer her children are.  She doesn’t worry about her own well being -or Tyler’s when he is at a hundred percent- but certainly frets over her little ones. They’re especially vulnerable when away from the house. Never knowing if someone is watching them while on the school yard during recess or when they’re getting on the bus to come home.

It’s better to be safe than sorry.

But Julie is genuine.  That motherly touch not a show.  It’s real and has no strings attached to it.  There's nothing to suggest that she is anything BUT compassionate and trustworthy.  And she’d made it easy for Esme to trust her; the kindhearted and often delicate approach exactly what she needed at such a difficult time. She’d spent years not receiving that kind of love and treatment from the woman who had birthed her -someone like her, so mean and hateful, doesn’t deserve any other term-, that she’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated like a daughter.  Even if it is just ‘part of her job’ and she’ll forget about them once they head home to Australia, it feels good while it  lasts.

“And back home?” Julie asks, never taking her eyes off of a smiling, drooling Addie that grabs at her hair and her glasses and tries to bounce on her thighs.

“So far nothing. I’m hoping it stays that way. Where we live is pretty remote. We picked the spot because of THAT. For the privacy and the security of it. There’s no way trouble wouldn’t be spotted before it arrived. And the people we have there...the friends we have...they know how to handle things. I trust them. With my kids’ lives.”

“It’s a heck of a way to live.”

“Normally it’s very peaceful.  There’s a little bit of a ‘what if’ in the back of our minds, but it’s never been like this.  We’re always so careful with who we  talk to, who we deal with, who we actually put our trust in.  I keep anything and everything on social media locked  downand Tyler doesn’t have any form of it whatsoever. He might as well not even exist as far as the rest of the world is concerned. And he likes it that way.  He likes his privacy and having his own little ‘happy place’; he likes the security that being where we are gives him.   He keeps to himself for the most part; my own family didn’t know what he looked like or what his full name was until we actually got married. But all of this? This is just…” she sighs. “...hell.  It’s been hell.”

“I’m not trying to sound judgmental or harsh in the slightest, believe me. So please don’t take what I’m going to ask next as me being mean or undermining what you’re going through.”

“I won’t take it that way.  I can tell your intent.  You’re not a hurtful person.”

“But with children in the picture, wouldn’t it be better to get out of that life? So you don’t have to worry about those ‘what if’s’? Wouldn’t it be easier to just walk away instead of having to take all those precautions? Wouldn’t it be better to just be able to live? Without all the worrying and the stress and the fear.”

“It would be,” Esme admits. “But this is what he knows. It’s what he does best. And it’s not that easy to just walk away from it. Not after years of doing it. He’s tired. Many times.  After our daughter was born, he gave up.  He was still trying to recover from what happened here the first time and he wanted to concentrate on being a husband and a father. And he did amazing. He did. But when all you know is that or the military and the latter is out of the question and all the bills start piling up and there’s little mouths to feed, you have to do what you think is best. And he went back.  He did what he had to do to take care of his family. That’s all that’s ever been important to him; taking care of us and keeping us safe.”

“Do you think he’ll go back? After this?”

“I know he will.  It’s a matter of when he goes back. But on the bright side, we’re going to be running our own business, and I have my fingers crossed that once he gets a taste of running things behind the scenes, he won’t want to go back to getting his hands dirty. It’s hard; he’s constantly on the go and can’t sit still for more than five minutes and is just so active with the kids.  I don’t want his body or his mind getting too idle. It won’t be good for him. He won’t be able to deal if he doesn’t at least have the option of getting out there. Does that make sense?”

“Complete sense.”

“I know this life is hard for most people to understand.  It’s one of the reasons I DON’T talk about it.  It’s a kind of a shock for people; finding out Tyler is a soldier for hire. We usually just say he’s ex military and that he moonlights in private security. It’s what I told my own family. And believe me, they didn’t take the truth well at all. They already hated him to begin with, finding out he was a mercenary just sent them over the top.  My mother, she’s unbelievable. She’s the ringleader of it all. She’s always been toxic, but when I stayed seven years ago and I decided to make a life with Tyler, she just went off the deep end.  She sees him as garbage. Lower than garbage, even. She has said some horrible things about him. She’s even wished death on him.”

“I am so sorry,” Julie keeps a firm hold on Addie with one hand, then reaches out to squeeze Esme’s shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. Neither of you do.”

“She’s been horrible all my life. She’s never  been a REAL mother. She gave birth to me, that’s about it. And when I decided to make a life of my own and stay in Australia and get married and start a family? That made her a hundred times worse. She thinks he somehow has me trapped there. Or has brainwashed me into staying with him. She calls him ‘that man’. Never by his name.  He tried to make things right with her and extend the olive branch but it didn’t stick.  He did it for me.  He thought it was I needed; a relationship with my mother.  But it wasn’t worth it.  It just made her worse.  She even treats the kids like second class citizens.”

“She sounds...horrible.”

“She is.  There is no denying that. And as weird as it sounds, it still makes me sad. Because that’s my mother.  And maybe I should try harder. Especially now that she doesn’t have much longer. But I can’t bring myself to do it; reach out to her. It just hurts too much. All the things she’s said about him and said about my kids. I can't get over that. I certainly can’t forgive it. Does that make me a horrible person? That I can’t make amends with my own mother?”

“You don’t owe toxic people anything.  If the best thing is to keep her out of your life, then it is what it is.”

“I don’t care what she says about me. I’ve long ago stopped caring about that. But when she talks about him or the kids, I just…” she sighs.   “...I can’t forgive OR forget that.”

“I’d be the same. I’d cut my family out if they treated my husband or my kids like that.”

“She thinks he’s some kind of monster because of what he does for a living. And he’s not. He is so far being a monster. He has this huge, beautiful heart;  when he loves, he loves with everything he has. And he’s an amazing father. They adore him and he’s so good with them. And she doesn’t see any of that. She wouldn’t take the time to see it. She’s too busy hating him. And it hurts my heart. Because he IS my heart. I must sound really pathetic to you right about now, huh?”

“No,” Julie says. “You just sound like someone who has been holding a lot inside for  a lot of years.”

“I try not to talk about it. As far as I’m concerned, that Esme? The one existed in my mother’s eyes? She’s been dead for a long time. I stopped being her a long time ago. And I like the Esme I am now. I like the life I have. I LOVE the life I have. I love being a wife and a mother. And if she can’t accept that, that’s her issue, not mine.”

“You need to keep reminding yourself of that. Whenever she creeps into that pretty little head of yours and tries to drag you down? You tell herself exactly what you just told me.  And I can tell...watching the two of you together...that there’s something really special there. That’s not a normal bond. It’s something strong and incredible.  And I’ve seen him with this little one…”  she presses a kiss to Addie’s forehead and then settles her on her lap. “...and you’re right; he is a pretty good daddy.”

Esme smiles. “He is.  I wish you could see him in all his daddy glory. When he’s healthy and he’s home and he doesn’t have all of this on his plate. Because it’s amazing; seeing him that way.”

“Well I always have wanted to visit Australia. Maybe when he is home and back on his feet, I could come and see that.”

“You’d be more than welcome, that’s for sure. We’d love to have you there. You and your family.  And now that I’ve used you as a therapist and wasted a lot of your hour before you start work, I guess I should get to why I really asked you to meet me.”

“It’s what I’m here for, sweets. And you haven’t wasted any of my time, trust me. What’s on your mind? I can tell it’s big.”

“I’m worried about Tyler. Not physically. He’s doing incredible that way. But mentally.  I’m really worried about him.”

“What’s going on?”

“You already know that he has PTSD; you’ve seen in all it’s glory when he first wakes up in the morning and he’s disoriented and confused and then the reality of being a hospital sets in. You’ve seen him lose it.”

“More than once.”

“When it kicks in, his brain just takes over and he freaks out;  he doesn’t even know what he’s saying or doing. And it’s scary; I’ve lived with it for seven years almost. I’ve been the one to talk him down on many occasions. I’m the one who had to commit him the second time he tried to kill himself.”

“You think things are getting worse? That they’re leading to that?”

Esme  nods as she fights back tears. “I’ve seen him in that horribly dark place and  I don’t want him going back there. Because if he does, I don’t know if I’ll get him back out this time.  I don’t want to lose him; especially not to his own mind. And the way his moods have been and the things he’s been saying, I can tell he’s heading down a really bad road. I want to stop it before he gets even further. I just don’t know how.”

“You think he might try to do something? To hurt himself?”

“I don’t think he’s quite there yet, but I don’t want him getting anywhere near there. He’s already admitted he needs help, and believe me, Tyler never admits to things like that.  It was beaten into him as a kid; asking for help shows weakness and a real man is never weak. Things are starting to come back to him. About what happened last week. And it’s going to get very ugly very quickly and I know he won’t be able to handle it. I need to get him help. BEFORE it’s too late.  We can’t wait until we get home. It’ll be too late by then.  I need to help him. I just need help doing it.”

“We have a crisis team here. That’s worked with people that have suffered severe trauma and have PTSD as a result. A lot of them are ex military and police.  I’ll personally contact them. I won’t waste time bringing it to a doctor and waiting for a referral.”

“You can do that? Bypass the doctors?”

“I shouldn’t, but I will. Do you think meds would help?”

“He won’t take meds. He already told me that. Unless there’s a way you can do it without him knowing. I know that sounds terrible. Sneaking it past him like that. But I’m desperate.  He needs help. Now. Not later. I love him and I need him around. And so do my kids.”

“I’m sure there’s a way I can talk him into letting me give him something.  We’ll be upping the pain meds: I could always say that I'm giving him something to help with the nausea. There’s a lot of drugs that can do both; help him from feeling sick and keep him calm.”

“I don’t want him to be a zombie. I just want him relaxed. I want his brain to stop torturing him.  And I know he’s going to snap over the idea of talking to someone. But if I’m with him, I know he’ll do it. He'll do it reluctantly, but he WILL do it. For me. I seem to be his driving force for a lot of things.”

“Well he loves you. That much is obvious. I see the way he looks at you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it. The way he looks at me. The way he loves me. He doesn’t see himself the way I see him. And I see him as my everything.  I never thought I’d say that about a man, believe me.”

Julie laughs.  “I hear you on that. I swore I’d never get married. Well here I am; thirty years later. Still married.”

“I’m actually looking forward to that. Spending that long with him. Longer, hopefully. Life would suck pretty huge without him. So you can help me? You can help him?”

“I can,” Julie assures her, then reaches out to lay a hand on the side of Esme’s head, drawing it down to her shoulder. “He’ll get through this,” she promises. “And so will you.”

[chipper9906]

The Best Laid Plans - Chapter 7: Close Calls

LINK TO CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Kylo Ren/Rey, Ben Solo/Rey

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 10,378

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress

Chapter Preview:

Kylo only made it a few steps towards the exit of the AT-AT before he heard Rey speak again. “I think he would be more than ‘a little stressed’ if he found out you were leaving to help a Jedi!”

It’s enough for him to hesitate, coming to a standstill as he thinks over her words. “Yes, well…” He clears his throat, turning to face Rey and nearly jumping when he sees that she too had stood up and made her way over to him to walk him out. “I should probably get back before he gathers evidence to accuse me of that.”

Rey smiles softly up at him, and the upwards twitch at the corner of his lips has something akin to hope brewing in her chest. It wasn’t the toothy smile she wanted to see, but it was so much better than the emotionless mask he usually wore – or the occasional frown whenever he seemed to speak. She wants to see more of it, and maybe that’s why she does what she does next.

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* * *

Arriving at Kylo’s ship should have been a relief. Sure, they had arrived in relative safety, and with no clouds in the sky, they were guaranteed a successful take-off and exit from this horrendous planet. But sat inside this oddly stuffy feeling ship, Rey was stuck in that uncomfortable situation where you have no clue what to say.

Ben was in distress, there was no doubt about that. He had killed more innocent people than his men for a lot less, so while him being so distraught over his actions now wasn’t a regular occurrence, she had been expecting for him to shake it off once some time had passed. Instead, the look in his eyes once he had pulled his helmet off his head was one Rey could only describe as ‘the thousand-yard stare.’ Looking but not seeing, moving on autopilot as he got them through takeoff, and putting the ship into… well, into autopilot.

Rey glanced sideways at him from her seated position. She hoped there was at least some reflections and insights going through his mind as he stared blankly out to the stars that whipped past them. Though, at the same time, she was worried he was going to get too lost in his thoughts. Yes, it was important for him to see the Galaxy in more than just black and white, good and bad, right and wrong. That while there may be reasons for the lives they take, it doesn’t always justify it. But if you let yourself get sucked down into that reasoning, it becomes harder to do what, sometimes, you have to do for the sake of yourself, and the ones you love.

Does she want him to murder billions of innocent civilians to reach his goal? No, of course she doesn’t. But if a situation occurs where his life is in danger from another? He needs his survival instincts -his desire to stay alive- to take control of his mind. Not the question of whether what he was about to do is right.

That’s how you get yourself killed.

“Ben?” Kylo didn’t respond to his name. Rey worried over whether it was because he didn’t hear her or if he was choosing not to. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kylo’s voice came out as more of a rumble, his eyes fixated on the windshield.

Rey sighed quietly to herself in disappointment, turning back around to stare out of the windshield herself. Of course, this is how he would react. Kylo didn’t want help, whether it be physical or mental. He was always adamant he could work out anything by himself; why would this time be any different?

Maybe because something about him feels different. Like a piece of a puzzle locked into place in his mind, and for the first time he can look at the full picture, can begin to make sense of the confusing mess it had once been. Still, she wouldn’t push him on it. That wouldn’t lead to anything good, only another argument that would put a strain on their fragile friendship, if you can even call it that.

“No,” Kylo said the word so quietly that Rey wondered if she had really heard it. She turned back around to face him, seeing him leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, resting his chin atop his connected fists, still staring out at the Galaxy in front of them. “No. I’m not okay.”

Rey’s entire body froze. She had wanted this conversation, and now they were having it, she didn’t know what to say to him. Should she even talk? Does she just listen? Perhaps encourage him to continue speaking, to say how he’s truly feeling? Or will that scare him off? Surely he wouldn’t backtrack on his previous statement unless he wanted to talk to her.

“I know,” Rey settles on. “And I get the feeling that scares you.”

“It confuses me,” Kylo corrected her. “It used to be that I was one person, being pulled to two different sides. Now it feels like I’ve split in two, and they’re arguing with each other all the time. I worked so hard to become who I thought I should be, and now this? I don’t know who I am anymore, Rey.”

“That’s okay,” Rey tried to reassure Kylo, but she gets a confused frown in return.

“How is it okay?” Kylo straightens his back, eyebrows furrowing deeper as he speaks. “I’m lost. I feel like I’m masquerading as someone I aspire to be, but there’s another person trying to come to the surface, and I hate that person. But they’re so… overpowering.”

“Maybe because the person you’re trying to be isn’t actually someone you want to be.”

Kylo scoffed at her words, shaking his head in disbelief. “Or maybe it is,” Rey shrugged, and Kylo’s head whipped around to face her. He hadn’t been expecting for her to say something like that, something that encouraged her to be… well, to be Kylo Ren. “Maybe you want to be Kylo Ren. Maybe you want to make your grandfather proud, to become the feared apprentice he once was. Maybe that’s what you want, but maybe that’s not who you are. It’s not who you’re meant to be.”

“Then why does the dark call to me?” Kylo said the question in a way that made Rey wonder whether he was directing it at her, or at himself. “Why did I take so naturally to it? Why did I thrive under Snoke’s teaching?”

Rey didn’t really know how to answer his question. He was the one more informed about the Force, after all. She barely had any training on it, most of what she’s able to do based more on an instinct within her than calling on the limited training she had received from Master Luke.

“Because it’s easier to fall to the dark than it is to stay in the light. I mostly try to ignore that little voice inside me that asks: ‘Why? Why do we bother to stay in the light? Why limit our abilities, struggle to use them in the way of the light, when it feels so much easier, so much more natural to give in to my emotions? To let them guide my powers’.”

“Exactly!” Kylo stressed. “I… I know I’m more powerful in the dark. I’m not willing to give that up. Without my power… Who am I? Without The First Order, without my Knights… I’ll be nothing.”

“You’ll be who you’re supposed to be. You’ll be the man that changes the Galaxy for the better. You’ll be the man who realizes he’s worth more than he’s allegiance to the dark.”

“I can’t…” Kylo’s voice was harsh and ragged, and it pained Rey to hear. “I can’t turn my back on it all. This is who I’m supposed to be.” Kylo averted his gaze, defeated eyes pinned to the console of his ship.

“If it’s who you’re supposed to be, why is the over voice inside you so loud?” Rey asked him. Kylo’s eyes briefly flickered up to her, but quickly dropped back to the console in front of him. “You say you thrived under Snoke’s teachings, but that’s only because he wanted you to. You did well under Luke, too. And I have no doubt you would have been extraordinary if you hadn’t had Snoke digging into your mind.”

“It never felt right. With my Uncle, following the path of the Jedi.”

“It didn’t for me, either.” Rey admitted to him. “It still doesn’t. And now? There are no more Jedi. I’ll never become a true Jedi, not in the Jedi Order, not the way they used to be. But why should I be limited to that? Why can’t I decide the type of Jedi I want to be? Why can’t you?”

Kylo’s face twisted in his confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t think I could ever follow the rules of being a Jedi. I… I know I will never be able to fully push away the call to the dark. It exists within me for a reason. There will be times where I give in, when I let my emotions get the best of me -let those emotions guide me in the Force. But surely that’s better than forcing myself to stay only in the Light? If I push myself to stay that way, then I’ll inevitably burn myself out and find myself falling to the dark. And I know that’s what you want, but that isn’t for me. I can say that with confidence. I’ll never turn fully to the dark, but I’ll never stay only in the light.”

“Then how come when I say the same to you, with the roles reversed, you can’t accept it?” Kylo’s voice had a twinge of frustration to it.

“Because we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were sure you belonged to the Dark, would we?”

Kylo’s face scrunched up in a way that seemed like he was trying to look disgusted by what Rey was suggesting. But in the time they’ve spent together, Rey has learned to read between the lines. She’s starting to get a better read on how he’s really feeling. And Kylo? He can say otherwise, but he looks scared. And she can’t blame him. She knows of the internal battle he’s having since she has to live with it herself every day. To have one day had that battle end, to think he’s finally found himself, and now that certainty has been ripped away from him.

Honestly, she’s surprised - and quite relieved - that he isn’t blaming her for all of this. She’s bared witness to the subtle changes within him ever since the first time this bizarre bond of theirs connected them. It seemed unbelievable at first that Kylo Ren could ever change, but the evidence was right in front of her. It was slow, and he was fighting himself every step of the way, but it was happening. She would like to think this would have happened to him even if they had never met, but it can’t be a coincidence that all of this began the day they crossed paths... She had planted doubt into his mind, and so it would be easy for him to place the blame on her for it all but he wasn’t. He was struggling, and the fact that it hurt Rey to see him in this type of pain was worrying in ways she didn’t want to think about.

But this hurt? It seems necessary. Something he has to fight through, something they both have to fight through. Because this conversation isn’t one that would have existed only a few months ago. Right now, looking at the distress in his eyes, she can almost see him. And deep down she knows, she knows the other person inside of him? It has to be Ben, clawing his way to the surface. Kylo was sure he had killed Ben Solo, that by murdering his father he had quieted him for good. Rey didn’t believe that for a second. He was always there, whether Kylo liked it not. And it seemed that, right now, he certainly did not.

If what Kylo said was true, that the other person is over-powering? Maybe they stand a chance. One day, she might get to see her vision be realized.

And that is a day she can’t wait to see.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Rey told him. “I can only offer you the advice I have.”

“And what’s that?” Kylo’s voice had a hint of sarcasm to it, but the way his eyes were locked on hers could only mean he genuinely wanted to hear her advice.

“Instead of ignoring the other voice inside you? Just… hear him out. See what he has to say. He is you, after all. Surely the person who knows what’s best for you can only be yourself?

* * *

For the first time in what feels like her entire life, the sight of Jakku doesn’t make her stomach twist uncomfortably. That’s not to say she feels comfortable returning here, that would be impossible; Most of the people that lived on his planet didn’t do so by their own choice, and those that managed to live somewhat comfortably were only able to do so by taking advantage of the people that could barely scrape by.

If Rey were to try and name the feeling the sandy stretch of land she saw beyond Kylo’s windshield invoked in her, it would be something akin to excitement. You couldn’t really blame her, not when she knows what lies ahead. Building her own lightsaber. While she knew the hard work probably wasn’t over yet, at least she could do it in an environment she knew. Less chance of encountering surprise patrols, creatures she hasn’t seen before and, best of all, no storms.

If she was being honest with herself, there’s perhaps a little anxiety too; some uncertainty in her abilities and, even stranger, a sense of comfort in knowing Kylo will be with her the whole time. She tells herself it’s because she’s lived most of her life alone and likes the company, but deep down she knows there’s more to it than that. But thinking that way leads down a dangerous and confusing road, so Rey pushes those thoughts away.

‘For now…’ Rey pushes that thought away, too.

Kylo lands his ship a small distance away from Rey’s old AT-AT shelter. Not too far away that the trek there would be exhausting, but enough so that it reduced the chance of someone coming across both her previous home and his shuttle and putting two and two together.

“Are you sure you want to help me do this?” Rey walked in tandem with Kylo as they departed his ship, their steps matching as they tread across the hot, sinking sand. Kylo didn’t bother with his mask this time. If they were going to get caught, people would likely recognize him with or without his mask. Besides, it was infinitely more comfortable not to wear it, especially in hotter climates such as this one.

“I said I would.” Kylo’s heavier weight made him sink even further down into the sand than Rey, scowling down at his feet as he battled to move through the sand. “Besides, you have no clue on how to make a saber yourself. If I didn’t help you, it wouldn’t happen.”

Rey could already feel some beads of sweat dripping down the back her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. Exiting from the cool interior of the ship into the dry heat of Jakku’s atmosphere was really messing with her body’s internal temperature gauge. “I don’t know how to do it right now, but there are the books Master Luke left behind, remember? There must be something in there about constructing a lightsaber.”

“You haven’t read them yet?” Kylo turned his face briefly to face her, though his eyes quickly returned to the ground to track where his next step was going to be.

“I’ve… I’ve tried.”

“They’re not exactly the most enthralling of reading material. Then again, I only got a few minutes with the one I managed to get my hands on. I ‘wasn’t ready to read it yet’, according to my Uncle.”

The AT-AT was coming into sight now, waves of heat bouncing off the shimmering silver metal of its sides. Unconsciously, they both picked up their pace, racing towards the limited cooling the shade of the AT-At would provide.  “Well…” Rey huffed in the unpleasant heat. “I think it’s obvious that I’m not ready to read them yet. I couldn’t make much sense of them. It all became a bit too frustrating after a while, so I’ve mostly been avoiding them.”

A look of what could almost be described as amusement, and a little bit of exasperation, crossed Kylo’s face, pausing outside the entrance to her AT-AT. “You’ve just proven I’m right then, haven’t you? If you can’t read the books – and that’s assuming there is something about building a saber in them – how else will you get information on how to do it?”

Rey held open the makeshift door to her old home for Kylo, directing a narrow-eyed look at him. “I would have read them eventually. I needed more training before tackling them.”

“Training from who? You’re alone-,”

“Oh, so you’re just assuming I was alone?”

“I’m not assuming, I know. You were speaking to FN-2187–,”

“Finn.” Rey corrected him sharply, nearly dropping her hold on the door at the urge to give him a shove.

“Fine, you were speaking to Finn over a Holocron, meaning you weren’t within the Resistance base anymore. Since you’re so keen to remind me that they’re ‘all you have left’, there isn’t really anyone else you would go to. So, you were alone.”

The silence after his words was all the acknowledgment Kylo needed to know he had guessed correctly- and had won yet another argument. “Just get inside, would you?” If Rey had to hold this door open for a minute longer, she was going to have a nasty burn across her palm.

Kylo ducked through the small door, and Rey wanted to smack that subtle hint of a smirk off his face as he disappeared inside. That didn’t count as a real smile. It just meant he was struggling to hide his satisfaction at having pissed her off, and that’s the kind of smile she sees on Kylo Ren’s face every damn day.

The inside of the AT-AT didn’t provide much relief from the unrelenting heat, but it at least provided cover from the scorching sun. Kylo all but collapsed down into what could barely pass as a couch - more a few hole-ridden pillows and blankets thrown over some wooden crates. He pulled his leather gloves off, wiping his sweaty hands across his clothes to try and dry them. Rey made a beeline for the old water reserves she has tucked away in the coolest corner of her makeshift home, pouring it out into two canteens she keeps nearby. The water would probably be warm, but she was too thirsty to care about that.

She hands one of the canteens over to Kylo, who can barely give a quick ‘thanks’ before he’s downing the contents of the canteen. Rey sips on her drink slower, partly because she’s more adapted to living in Jakku’s heat, but mostly because she wants to savor the limited amount of water she has available.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Rey jumps up on her bed opposite him, bringing the canteen up to her lips for another refreshing gulp.

Kylo twist’s the cap of the canteen back into place, placing it on the floor with a sigh that Rey doesn’t like the sound of. “For now, I have to return back to The First Order. I can’t be gone too long without raising suspicion.”

Rey didn’t want to question why Kylo leaving filled her with disappointment. “Aren’t you Supreme Leader now?”

Kylo raised an eyebrow at her. “So?”

“Doesn’t that mean you can do whatever you want to?”

Kylo snorts, picking the canteen back up as he stands from the ‘couch’. “Unfortunately, no. Leading an entire army does mean I have responsibilities, I’m afraid.” He walks the few steps it takes to reach Rey, holding out the canteen for her to take.

Rey takes the canteen from his hands, trying to ignore the zap of electricity she felt as Kylo’s hands brushed against her own. “Will you be gone long?” She hates the almost whining tone in her voice, but not as much as she hates the part sympathetic-part surprised look she gets from Kylo, his eyebrows nearly raising into his hairline at her question.

“I can’t imagine so.” He snatched his gloves back off from the couch. “-Unless some emergency comes up that requires my attention. I’m sure I can think up of some excuse to leave that won’t get me grief from my General’s.”

“I imagine they’re tearing their hair out at your continuous absence.”

Kylo lets out a huffy breath of laughter that almost forces a smile out of him. Although his eyes have gone soft in a way that makes Rey’s stomach do somersaults whenever he looks at her. “Hux already tears his hair out at the smallest of grievances. I’m sure a little extra stress won’t hurt.”

Kylo only made it a few steps towards the exit of the AT-AT before he heard Rey speak again. “I think he would be more than ‘a little stressed’ if he found out you were leaving to help a Jedi!”

 It’s enough for him to hesitate, coming to a standstill as he thinks over her words. “Yes, well…” He clears his throat, turning to face Rey and nearly jumping when he sees that she too had stood up and made her way over to him to walk him out. “I should probably get back before he gathers evidence to accuse me of that.”

Rey smiles softly up at him, and the upwards twitch at the corner of his lips has something akin to hope brewing in her chest. It wasn’t the toothy smile she wanted to see, but it was so much better than the emotionless mask he usually wore – or the occasional frown whenever he seemed to speak. She wants to see more of it, and maybe that’s why she does what she does next.

“Stay safe.” She says tenderly, and before Kylo can say anything in response, she’s leaning forward on her tiptoes with one hand on his chest as she plants a kiss on his cheek.

Kylo’s head snaps back like she had slapped him instead, eyes wide as dinner plates and his throat working nervously as he struggles to come up with some semblance of intelligent speech. The stammering mess that comes out of his mouth could barely qualify as speech as he took a few cautious steps back from Rey. “U-uh – It – I – Y-you – I-I-I don’t-,” He trips over a few spare parts that were scattered on the ground as he stumbles backward. Rey moves to help him from falling, but he quickly straightens himself up before she can get anywhere near him. She raised a hand to her mouth to smother her laughter at the fierce red blush that spread to the tip of his ears, only feeling marginally okay about laughing at him seeing as he would often find humor in her embarrassments.

“Right, I…” Kylo cleared his throat to compose himself. “You stay safe, too. I’ll, uh… I’m sure we’ll be connected again while I’m away. I’ll give you updates to when I can return.”

Rey watches him walk out of her AT-AT at such a speed that she could almost say he was sprinting away. Truthfully, she doesn’t know why she had kissed him. She had never kissed someone before, even if it was just a cheek kiss, but it had just felt natural to do. And if that was the kind of reaction she would get out of Kylo every time she did it, she was going to have to do it more. That was definitely why she wanted to. Not for her own enjoyment.

She had the feeling that Kylo isn’t really used to physical affection. Really, that just gave her another reason for it.

* * *

 His office felt stuffy and quiet. Too quiet. Which didn’t make sense, as there were background noises all around him: the ship’s engines running, officers and troopers marching past his door, speaking murmured conversations as they went by, but something just felt missing, and he didn’t like it.

Kylo’s mask stared back at him from his desk. The ebony black seemed to melt into the unnaturally polished white plastic of the desk’s surface. He used to do this a lot – stare into his mask in the hopes he can see his grandfather’s staring back at him. He used to come close, before. Now it just feels like it’s mocking him. Like a child playing dress up as their favorite hero.

Kylo’s hand lifted to his head, resting on the scratchy bandage that covered it. It had all but dried now, but the feeling of a dirty, bloodstained, previously soaked gauze made his skin itch. Really, he should get to a medic bay and have one of the medical droids take a look at it. He didn’t think it needed any stitches – Rey had said so herself after the wound had been inflicted. Still, he at the very least would need to have some Bacta patches applied to speed up the healing process.

Kylo plucked his mask up from the desk as he stood, placing it atop his head as the pristine white doors to his office slid open. He kept at a steady pace as he made his way down the ships many corridors, barely giving a glance to the troopers he passed. Not that he could get much of a glance of them anyway. Mostly, all he saw was a flash of white as they hastily moved out of his way, pressed against the wall and hands raised in salute when he walked by.

That was until he entered the medical bay. He had been stood outside the door to the room, wondering why the doors were not functioning when they had suddenly slid open. One of his troopers was standing on the other side, apparently as startled to see him as he was to see them-

The sound of his saber; Hissing and crackling as it forced its way through immaculate white armor. The sight of bubbling plastic, the white armor turned black from heat. Of raw, scorched flesh. Blank, lifeless eyes staring at nothing from beyond their visors. The sound of panicked cries, of a young man pleading, begging for the pitiful life he has.

“Apologies, Sir.” The voice of the trooper in front of him yanked Kylo back to the present. Like the rest, the trooper had flung themselves to the side, making way for Kylo to enter the room. Kylo stood frozen, any words he would usually say trapped in his throat. It felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I was just leaving.”

Kylo’s eyes were glued to the trooper, staring at the hand raised to his head in salute. Did this nameless individual truly feel any sense of duty as he saluted? Did the thought of giving up his life for the First Order - for him - fill this soldier with a sense of pride? Or was it something that kept them awake at night, wondering why they were risking their lives for another nameless man behind a mask.

Kylo Ren. It was all they ever know him as. They didn’t know Ben Solo. No one really did. Not even his mother. Not even Rey. He was the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa. He was the grandchild of Anakin Skywalker and Padamé Amidala. He was Luke Skywalker’s nephew padawan. He was Snoke’s apprentice. He was the leader of the Knights of Ren. He was Supreme Leader of The First Order. These were all things he thought mattered to who he was. They were reasons for pride, reasons for shame, reasons for everything he has ever done; reasons to justify his actions. What were they now? Nothing more than titles. A set of expectations.

But who was he really? It used to anger him that people never knew the real him, but how could he blame them when he himself can’t decide who he really is?

Kylo’s body seemed to come back to life before his brain did. His feet carried him into the room in a few strides. He didn’t have to look behind him to know the trooper had rushed out of the room the second he had entered it. Seeing the fear his soldiers had for him used to fill him with an odd sense of satisfaction. Or perhaps arrogance was a more accurate term. Now, as the doors closed shut behind him, it filled him with an all too familiar sense of loneliness.

Kylo took a seat atop the medical table. The second he had pulled his mask off his face, the medical droids were floating in front of him, poking at the bandages at his head in their frantic attempt to examine his injury. He batted their incessant pinchers away, untying the knot that held the bandage together and sliding it off his head. Kylo winced as the sticky dried blood pulled away along with the gauze, the stinging pain a likely sign that the wound had been reopened. He didn’t have much time to think about it before the droids were back, already busying themselves with cleaning the thin stream of blood that was oozing from his head.

He stared vacantly ahead as the droids did their work. Like it often did, he found his mind had begun to drift. And, like often, he found those thoughts began to drift to her. To the scavenger from Jakku that was aspiring to keep the Jedi alive. To the girl that always found a way to take the way he thought things were and show him how utterly wrong he was. It had been a strange journey of knowing her. He hadn’t thought all that much of her at first. She had been a source of information; a scavenger on a desolate planet that had happened upon a droid containing the one thing he wanted most.

‘Think you want.’ Kylo brushed her voice out of his mind. He hadn’t thought much of her, as most probably did. And then… then she had resisted. No, she had fought back. She had forced her way into his mind, and it seemed like she didn’t even mean to do it. She just had. And if she could do such a thing without even meaning to, who knows what she would be possible of with the right training? After that, it had been an odd mix of respect and perhaps even a bit of jealousy. He had trained years to achieve the skills he has now. All that he had gone through, under both his Uncle’s and Snoke’s teachings, and somehow this girl had become his equal, and she didn’t even know what the Force was? It was outrageous, it was unfair, and he wanted her power. He wanted her by his side as an accomplice.

Where were they now? It felt off to describe it as friendship. It was tentative, and it was most definitely fragile, but it was there. He supposed the fact that the Force had connected them had helped to nurture their relationship into existence, but it had been strengthened in the time they spent together side by side. They had begun this plan of theirs as nothing more than reluctant acquaintances, but something had changed in the time they had spent together, an odd draw pulling him closer to her, and her to him - and that wasn’t just him being egotistical of himself. His people skills might not be as sharp as they once were, but he’s all too familiar with what disappointment looks like on a person’s face. And when he had told Rey he had to leave? That had been disappointment.

Calling her his friend seemed a step too far in itself, but it was the only word he could find to describe what Rey was to him. That was what he had been repeating to himself on his ship after he had left, anyway. She was his friend. It didn’t matter that his heart pounded in his chest whenever she stepped close to him. It didn’t matter that it became harder to tear his eyes away from her every time his gaze passed by her. It didn’t matter the way her touch seemed to linger on his skin whenever she touched him. Rey was his friend.

And repeating that over and over had been working just fine until she had gone and kissed him. It hadn’t even been on his mouth -just a quick kiss on his cheek. He hadn’t received a kiss like that since he was probably about five, and it had been a touch of such comfort and care that it had nearly been enough to make him fall right on his ass. It was more than he had received in many, many years, but what had shaken him even more than the kiss was the realization that he wanted more.

He wanted more than friendship, and that in itself was something he shouldn’t have with her. Rey was more than just the last Jedi. She was the last of the people’s hope. His uncle had been the last to be trained under the Jedi religion, and the only people alive whose knowledge of the Jedi religion his uncle had passed onto was himself, his knights, and Rey. There had been more… but he had slaughtered them all that night, alongside the padawans that had become his knights. Rey was the only way the Jedi Order would live on. If he were to kill her, it would be over. There would always be Force Users in the Galaxy, there was no stopping that, but if he were to kill Rey? There would be no one left alive to pass on the Jedi teachings. There would only be him. He could easily put out feelers to identify those sensitive with the Force. The question would be what he would do with those he found. One option was to kill them. After all, any other Force User was a potential challenge to his power, to his position as Supreme Leader. But if he were to take them in, to train them as he once was, just like his knights… His own army of powerful apprentices…Who would dare challenge him?

There were a few problems with all of this. With the first option… He didn’t know if he could do it anymore. If killing a single stormtrooper that was going to kill him had disturbed him as much as it did, what would happen if he were to face a child that didn’t even really know what was happening to them? Something he himself had experienced in his life…

 With the second option… He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a master. To teach people in the way Snoke had taught him… It would only lead to them hating him, as he did his previous master. They’d be likely to follow the path he had once taken, and he didn’t want his life to end with being sliced in half by one of his apprentices.

The biggest problem in all of this? They all relied on taking Rey’s life. And the fact of the matter was that was something he couldn’t do. There was no if’s or but’s about that. Kylo could not kill her, and that was that.

So that left him with assisting the last living Jedi, the one obstacle in the way of achieving a goal he’s had for years, with creating a powerful weapon that she could one day wield against him. Which begged the question; what else was he willing to do for her? If he one day had to take on the entire First Order to protect her, would he do it? Would he slaughter his entire army, just to keep her alive? The fact that he had so willingly murdered his own troopers without much of a second thought to protect her brought him closer to the answer to those questions.

How much longer will it take in her presence before the answer to those questions will be an unhesitating ‘yes?’

The door to the medic bay whooshed open, the sound of it pulling him out of his thoughts. His head snapped up, pushing away the medical droid that was applying the last of the Bacta patches to his forehead to see who has entered the room. The usual sense of annoyance filled him the second he caught sight of the ginger-haired general, that perpetual look of smug arrogance stuck on his face as he looked to Kylo.

“Were you injured, Supreme Leader?” Hux’s arms were folded behind his back, looking down at Kylo from over his nose.

“Nothing incapacitating.” Kylo replied, not bothering to brush away the droids as they returned to finish off the last of his treatment. “Is there a reason you’re here, General?”

“Just a smaller matter that requires your attention.” Hux’s gaze followed Kylo as he stood from his seat. Kylo grabbed his mask as he went, not bothering to gesture for Hux to follow when he knows he’ll follow anyway. Sure enough, he can hear the pitter-patter of the Generals footsteps as he chases after him.

“I’m very busy, Hux. This better be something worth my time.”

“I suppose it depends on what you deem worthy of your time, Supreme Leader-,” Hux flinched as Kylo came to a skidding halt, trying to move his head back without physically taking a step when Kylo looms over him.

“Is there something on your mind, General?” The hint of danger in Kylo’s voice was enough, taking a bit too much satisfaction in the way Hux’s gaze immediately dropped to the floor.

“Of course not, Sir.” Hux was able to keep his voice surprisingly steady. “I’m merely noting your recent… leave of absence.”

Kylo stared down at his General for a few more tense moments before turning away, having quickly become bored of terrorizing him. He resumed his walk back towards his office, pushing down his urge to sigh when he caught sight of a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye. “Am I expected to inform you of my every movement?”

“Your responsibilities as Supreme Leader mean that is important for us to know where you are -both for your safety and if we require your oversight.” Hux was pushing his luck dangerously close here. “It’s not like it used to be, Ren - when you could just run off whenever you felt like it-,”

It was lucky for Hux that the door to Kylo’s office had just opened, otherwise, Kylo would have just thrown him into the door rather than through it. Kylo watched as Hux in all his immaculate uniform skid across his recently polished floor, stepping into his office and using the Force to flick the door closed when the automatic system didn’t move fast enough.

“If I didn’t know any better, it would seem like you were suggesting my job as Snoke’s apprentice was to run around the Galaxy doing whatever I felt like.” Kylo took a step closer to the General, who was already scrambling to his feet. “I suppose it's fortunate for you that I know you’re not so foolish as to suggest such a thing, Hux.”

“Not at all, Supreme Leader!” Hux’s arms had snapped to his side, head held high but still unable to look Kylo in the eye – or at least, where his eyes would be behind his mask – reverting back to some instinctual loyal soldier mode he would usually go into whenever Snoke reprimanded him. “I just thought it best to inform you about an issue on Jal.”

Kylo froze by his desk at the name of the planet they had recently left, thankful that his mask and the fact that his back was turned was hiding his reaction from Hux. “What kind of issue?”

“We received word from a unit deployed to one of the outposts. They were supposed to switch out with the current unit residing there. However, when they failed to turn up for shift change, the unit went out looking for them.”

Kylo lowered himself down into a rather uncomfortable plastic white chair by his equally white desk, folding his hands in front of him as he addressed the General. “And did they find them?”

“Indeed they did, Supreme Leader. All six of them had been killed.”

The thought of Hux somehow having figured out everything that had happened briefly crossed Kylo’s mind. As much as he longed to take his life - and one he’s certain he won’t feel guilty for – Hux wasn’t someone who could just ‘disappear’ without people noticing. He wasn’t just a nameless trooper - he was one of the highest Generals on board.

“That’s not all that surprising. We already know of Jal’s dangerous climate, and we don’t know what kind of creatures may reside there, either.”

“My troopers aren’t just some regular citizens.” Hux spat the last word with such disgust that it reminded Kylo of why Snoke was so incessant on keeping Hux alive and in a position of power. “They receive the best training known in the Galaxy. An entire unit isn’t going to be wiped out by some torrential weather or erratic wildlife.”

“Then what did kill your soldiers, Hux?”

“Well, Supreme Leader, that’s why I needed to bring this issue up with you.” Hux said in a way that had Kylo itching for his lightsaber. “You see, a few of the soldiers had clear signs of blaster wounds. That would be troubling enough as it is, as it would mean we have unidentified armed citizens on the surface.”

“Then send out more units. Double the patrols, make sure there is no-one on that planet. Why are you coming to me for this, General? I thought this was your job.”

“It is, but that’s not the main problem. You see, only a few of them had blaster wounds. One was found to have blunt force trauma to the chest: broken ribs, a few broken vertebrae, ruptured organs; and the others? The others had wounds that could only have been inflicted from a lightsaber, Supreme Leader.”

Surely this was it. What else could Hux be hinting towards? This was the moment Hux had been waiting forever since Kylo had sliced their previous Supreme Leader in half. An opportunity to call Kylo out for the traitor he believed he was, but now… Now he had proof.

“We believe the unit that had been killed had been the one to send us a message the day prior.” Hux continued. “They informed us that they had received a surprise visitor to Jal. They said it was you, Supreme Leader.” Hux somehow managed to straighten himself even taller. “There’s only one person who could be responsible for their deaths.”

Kylo really didn’t have a choice anymore. Questions would be asked, and he would have to find a way to answer them. There had already been rumors of a spy within his men - it wouldn’t be too difficult to place the blame on Hux. No one would question him if he was to point the finger towards the General, and no one would say a thing if he were to kill him for it. Kylo keeps his eyes fixed on Hux, moving his arm down to his side as slow as he can until his hand is wrapped around the hilt of his saber, his thumb resting on the ignition switch.

“It must have been that scavenger girl.” Kylo nearly ignited his saber in his surprise at Hux’s guess. “We believe she may have gone to Jal in search of Kyber Crystals, Supreme Leader. She must have run across the patrol during her search.”

Of course… they didn’t know that his grandfather’s saber had been destroyed on the Supremacy. As far as The First Order was aware, Rey still had access to her own saber. “How did she discover the truth of Jal’s value? How did she even locate it?” Kylo encouraged Hux’s theory.

“We don’t know for sure, Sir, but…”

“But what?”

“We think she – or the resistance - may have found a way to track you, Sir. Or at least, your ship. I’m sure you’ve heard the reports of information slipping into the enemies’ hands. It wouldn’t be too surprising if some information about the Kyber properties of Jal made its way to her.”

This wasn’t good. Looks like he has to give Hux credit after all - the man does know what he’s doing. Now came the problem of what he was supposed to say. Obviously, he doesn’t want Hux digging any deeper into this. The further he digs, the more likely he is to find out the truth. The First Order is already doing all it can to find Rey – that he can’t prevent. If he ordered his army to stop searching for her, it would be as good as writing ‘Traitor' across his forehead for all of them to see.

But he can’t exactly encourage Hux to increase their search efforts. If he genuinely believed that Rey had found a way to track him, they would most certainly want to limit his movement. Or, even worse, keep a close eye on him everywhere he goes. Both of those options would not only put himself at risk of being caught but would also risk Rey being found by The First Order.

“Don’t you think I would be able to tell if someone was tailing me? Or my ship?”

“It’s a possibility we have to consider, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo stood from his chair, to which the muscle under Hux's eight eye twitches- his body caught between his sense of pride telling him to stand steady, and his self-preservation telling him to run before he’s thrown through a door again. “Thank you for the warning General, but I can take care of myself. If I spot anything unusual, I’ll be sure to notify the First Order immediately - as I’m sure you will do in return.”

Hux managed to stand straight, though his gaze was focused elsewhere over Kylo’s shoulder than risking making eye contact with him. “As you wish, Supreme Leader. We will continue to monitor the situation closely.”

“Good. Is there anything else you wish to inform me of, General?”

“No, Sir.” Hux replied.

“Then you’re dismissed.” Kylo stood still on the spot, watching as the General gave a stiff nod of his head – he supposed in some sign of respect, but it seemed to pain Hux to do so – before his General was rushing out of the room at a pace that suggested he wanted to leave the room as soon as possible, but not too fast that he didn’t appear to be scared of Kylo. Which, Kylo thought, was pointless. He could practically smell the fear and loathing emitting from Hux whenever he was in the same room.

Kylo didn’t move from his spot until he could no longer see a single strand of that glaringly bright red hair. Only then did he sink back down onto the medical bench, burying his face in his hands with a deep sigh. This was never how things were supposed to go. He had always assumed he would become supreme leader one day. He didn’t exactly know what species Snoke was, but every creature must someday reach the end of their lives. That was the purpose of Master and Apprentices, to ensure you have a worthy successor for when you’re gone; to make sure that such valuable knowledge is passed on. After all, if there’s no one left who knows that information, did it ever actually exist?

He didn’t feel thirty. Some days, he felt much, much older. Those were usually the days when his muscles ached, and when he ran out of breath a lot quicker than he used to, or when he catches himself thinking ‘it didn’t use to be this difficult’. But the other days… the other days, he feels like that young twenty-something who watched a temple filled with those he once thought friends burn to the ground, the sounds of their pained screams ringing in his ears and the sight of his Uncle holding a lightsaber over his head etched into his eyes. He had had Snoke in his mind for so long, assuring him that what he was doing was right. Any time he doubted his actions, wondering if this was the man he was supposed to be, Snoke was right there. And he never questioned him. Because all the while he did those things, trained under Snoke and followed his orders, he was getting stronger. It felt right. After years of being told what not to do, of who he should be, having someone encourage him to accept the darkness that was seated within him, and show him how to harness it instead of repressing it was refreshing.

Now, that voice was gone, cut away the very same time he ignited that saber into Snoke’s side. The only voice assuring him now is his own mind, and truth be told, it doesn’t seem too sure of itself. Especially whenever he has Rey right there, making him question every decision he’s ever made since… Well, he doesn’t even know how far back anymore. And what was he doing now? Risking all he has? That trooper was right. He was a traitor. He had made himself one. And he had done all of it for her. He had given her everything he has, and he’s ready to give more.

Rey was right. He was scared. Because he’s never been prepared to sacrifice so much for someone other than himself. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant yet.

But he knew it was probably going to get him killed.

* * *

As much as scavenging around in fallen ships was draining, it was at least something to do. Rey hasn’t been able to do much these past few days other than try her best to salvage what she can from her fractured staff, cleaning up the shattered metal as best as she could. It was an idea that had struck her, unable to sleep on a particularly cold desert night; What if she used the parts of her staff in her saber? It felt disrespectful to simply toss the remains in a pile of spare parts. That weapon had served her for years, nearly her whole life. Why shouldn’t it get a new lease on life?

Why shouldn’t it continue to protect her?

During particularly dull moments of the day, Rey liked to place the broken shards of her staff on the workbench that sat near her bed. She would carefully unwrap the tiny golden crystal from its cloth protection in her bag, place it by the remains of her staff and just… imagine what it will be like. Envision the complex wires and parts that will go into the pieces of metal in front of her. She can’t wait to ignite it for the first time, to see that brilliant golden glow and accompanying hum of pure energy… It would be her saber. Not Master Skywalkers, or his fathers before him. Hers.

She still remembers the first time she had ignited the Skywalker Saber. That was a memory that would be forever etched into her mind, for both good and bad. She could recall the cold bite of the wind as it whipped around her, the chill of the snowflakes that landed on her skin, the aching in her chest as Kylo Ren looked at her in awe; an expression she had seen on his fathers face when he had witnessed her abilities as an engineer within the Falcon.  All that seemed to melt away when she saw that flash of blue, felt the power of the weapon within her hands vibrating through her skin. It felt like it belonged. But it didn’t. That saber was never truly hers. So, while perhaps that saber didn’t belong to her, she knew that she was born to wield a saber. And very soon, she will get to hold such a weapon in her grasp again.

For that to happen though, there’s someone else that needs to be here. That, she didn’t forget. She couldn’t. Because as much as she loathed to admit it, it was all that encompassed her mind. She missed Kylo. She hadn’t understood that odd empty feeling in her chest as she watched his ship leave Jakku’s surface. It hadn’t been until later that night, rolling over onto her side and looking at the pile of blankets he had left behind from before that she was able to name that feeling: Longing. She was longing for Kylo to return. Longing for him to be by her side again.

She shouldn’t be feeling like this. She shouldn’t be missing him. She should have let out a sigh of relief the second his ship had left the atmosphere, should have blissfully gotten on with her day; happy in the knowledge that she’s finally alone again. But now she knew she didn’t like being alone. After spending nearly fourteen years of her life all alone, she was likely to cling onto someone who entered her life without the purpose of trading food or parts. She had moped about the AT-AT for the entire rest of the day, hating that that’s what she was doing but having no desire to stop herself from doing so.

Why? Why did it have to him? Out of all the people in the Galaxy, the Force had chosen to connect her with a patricidal maniac who wanted to rule over everyone with an iron fist? And why had her traitorous brain decided it was apparently ‘A-Okay’ that he was in her life and was urging her to get closer to him every second she was in his presence? It was becoming exhausting trying to fight off the little devil on her shoulder, and she wasn’t sure how much longer until that little devil started to make sense.

“You look about as stressed as I am.”

It was odd how in such a short amount of time, the sound of his voice could go from her reaching for her blaster to a sense of comfort and rightness washing over her. Still, she hadn’t expected his return quite yet, so it still startled her somewhat. Especially since she didn’t feel the usual odd tingle at the back of her skull whenever the Force connected them.

“I tend to get even more stressed when people pop out of nowhere.” Rey stood from her workbench, pushing aside some of the clutter on the desk in somewhat of an attempt to make things look neater before turning to face him. “Why are you stressed?”

“Well, you see, that tends to happen when you’re the leader of the biggest faction in the Galaxy.” Kylo was leaning against the entrance to her AT-AT, the door cracked open enough to let in a sliver of sunlight.

Rey snorted, leaning back against the workbench with her arms crossed. “That was your decision. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Except the other choice was to kill you.”

“So?”

Kylo raised an eyebrow at her. “So, that wasn’t going to happen.”

How did he do it? How did such words ignite that warmth in her chest? Someone saying they weren’t going to kill you should be standard really, so how did he manage to spin it into something else? “So, what exactly is so stressful about being a leader?”

“A lot.” Kylo answered in a grunt. “I was swarmed the second I stepped foot on base.”

“By who?” Rey asked.

“Too many names to count. People with problems, people with solutions that need to extensively explain said solutions to you so you can pick out the problems and fix them. Signing off on requests for resource trades, transportation, trooper training schedules…”

“Sounds boring.”

“It is.” Kylo nodded his head in agreement. “But it’s necessary if you want to keep things running smoothly.”

A realization popped into Rey’s head as she looked at Kylo, one she had had before but had all but forgotten about it. “You know, I’ve always wanted to ask – What do you do if we become connected while you’re in the room with other people? It’s not exactly like you can leave the room or anything. I mean, I assume you’re alone in some room wherever you are right now-,”

A look of questioning passed briefly across Kylo’s face, his brows scrunching into a furrow as she reached the end of her sentence. “Rey… you do realize I’m actually here, right?”

This took Rey by surprise. She had been expecting to hear back from him before he returned to Jakku – she never once considered that he might just… show up unannounced one day. She straightened her posture, nearly knocking a small engine compartment off the desk as the pushed her hands away. “Oh, you’re… uh… You are?”

“Sorry, I assumed you knew. I never exactly know when the Force may connect us – and so far, you’re the only one that’s been able to force a connection. I wasn’t just going to sit and wait around for us to be connected to tell you I’ll be returning.”

“No, no, of course not. I was just a little surprised is all.”

Kylo made a small hum type of noise in the back of his throat before walking over next to her, peering down at the parts she has laid out on the workbench. He picked up a few bits of spare metal, turning them around in his hands and studying them closely. His gaze then shifted to where she had left the shattered pieces of her staff, placing the metal in his hands back down and reaching a gloved hand out to softly touch the ruined weapon.

“Are you keeping these pieces for memory's sake?” He asked her, carefully picking up one of the pieces and turning his head to look at her as he spoke.  

“Kind of.” Rey replied. “Actually, what I wanted to do – if you think it’s possible that is – is to use them as part of my saber?”

Kylo nodded slowly, looking back down to her staff in his hand. He raised his other hand to his face, scratching at his chin just below the left corner of his mouth as he thought. “I think it could be done… It looks wide enough that you should be able to fit the internals in-,” Kylo spun the piece around, closing one eye as he peered into the hollow inside of the staff. “-Though you might have to thin down the metal a bit… just enough to make space but not too much that you weaken the chassis…”

Kylo dropped the piece down from his face before handing the split pieces to her. “Have you thought about designs for your saber? What pieces you’re going to use from the staff?”

“I have actually!” Rey’s voice brightened significantly at the prospect of sharing her design ideas with Kylo. “I thought that it would be good to-,”

“Hang on a second-,” Kylo’s voice was alight with amusement, holding out a hand to stop her spillage of ideas before it even really begins. “Give me a minute to grab something from my ship.” Kylo had partly turned as he said this, squeezing through the gap of her door and mostly disappearing from her sight – just a few flashes of black as his figure blotted out the light. He hadn’t left at a particularly fast pace, but just quick enough that is suggested to Rey that he was as excited about building a new lightsaber as she was.

By the time Rey had spread out her staff pieces where she wanted to – and cleaned up the desk a little more so that the pieces of scrap she wouldn’t be using weren’t in the way – Kylo was forcing his way through the door inside once again. It seemed he was having more difficulty this time – probably due to the big, bulky box he was carrying in his hands. It was a glossy black, its edges a gleaming silver metal which gave the box it’s shape and support. There was no writing on the box, at least none she could see anyway. Kylo was holding the box close to his chest in the kind of way you held something that was precious to you, keeping a careful eye on the ground in front of him to make sure he wouldn’t drop and potentially land on or damage the box in any way.

“That looks expensive.” Rey noted, every part of her itching to reach out and take the box from his hands.

“That’s because it is. Invaluably so.” Kylo answered, gingerly placing the box on the workbench once he reached it. Rey peered over his shoulder as he flicked up the two locks on either side of the box and leaning closer once he pushed the lid open. The inside of the box had been lined with an ebony black velvet cloth (of course it was black inside too…), which held a various variety of complicated-looking parts that Rey didn’t even know how to begin to name.

“In this box is all you’ll need to turn your staff from a few broken pieces of metal to the most powerful weapon a being can wield.” Kylo told her, craning his neck to look back at her, then flinching somewhat when he noticed how close she was.

“Uh, you mean all you need to turn my staff into a lightsaber.” Rey corrected him, eyes flickering nervously between the contents of the box. “I have no clue how to use any of this stuff.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Kylo assured her. “But to be clear – I am not making this saber. This is your saber to make. Not mine. I am simply passing on the knowledge I know to aid you in its construction.”

Rey smiled gleefully up at him, her smile widening at the sight of the corner of his lips twitching -presumably because he was fighting with himself not to smile back at her. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get started.”

Link To Chapter 8

[heylinfanclub]

CANON DIVERGENT SHADOW YOUNG | WILLOW YANG

Some Headcanons (more like 13+ paragraphs of THE REWRITTEN STORY): 

(Season 1)

› Shadow was created by Chase to be the sort of perfect lackey after recognizing the disappointment of outside apprentices, a child born of dark magic and his own blood. A literal shadow for Chase, if you will. But the fact of the matter is, her potential is far greater, as her magic runs deeper and is entwined far greater with her essence. Chase keeps her in check through a talisman that binds her magic to his control.

› Despite being essentially a clone of Chase, her development was incredibly fast paced and she is born with the draconic qualities Chase adopted later in life, giving her an unnaturally greenish pallor and a serpentine disposition. Due to the speed at which she aged, she is typically more gaunt than Chase, as she burned calories faster than she could get them. › Shadow infiltrates the temple in disguise as Willow (also: Weilu), the Dragon of Metal, a sheltered girl from the valley who has spent most of her life caring for her aging parents (she says they live in the city now, and it’s f i n e, but her excuses to see Chase are always ‘I have to visit my parents’). She spends much more time there than in XC, becoming closer to the monks and struggling with her loyalties as they treat her like family and Chase treats her only as well as he treats obedient pawns (a distinct lack of interest in her growing knowledge of the outside world and ever annoyed of her distractability). 

› When Chase begins to recognize her waning allegiance, he tries to manipulate her, to tell her that the monks will reject her for who she is, for what she has done (Shadow has been used for many evil tasks, and she is very morally gray, not regretting them as much as she fears the judgement of her good friends) and for what she is. But when Shadow finally turns against him (or so, he perceives her lack of obedience as such, she may have never been truly willing to leave knowing he could do what he did next), he merely uses her magic to turn her against the monks, using her as a magic puppet. In the struggle for control, she breaks the talisman. Never having control of her own magic, the loss of structure turns her into a dragon and she runs away.

(Season 2)

›  Shadow escapes to Jack Spicer, a man who she knows is not of any real threat to her. Jack is surprised, but not unwilling to protect her, as she tries to take control of her magic and continues to struggle with her allegiance. Jack gets pretty attached to her, sympathetic to her feelings of rejection and need for isolation. He does his best to help her and in return, she began to lose some of the thorns she often had towards him, as he picked up where the monks had left off with introducing her to the modern world. Which makes it sting all the more, when the monks come for her. 

› She does learn to control her dragon form and she can shift between forms without the Lao Mang Long soup, but it is difficult. It can be easy to shift when angry and difficult to shift back unless she feels safe.

› It’s Jermaine who is enlisted to get Willow back. Jermaine is the Dragon of Wood, trained by Master Monk Guan, to unlearn what Chase may have taught him in his short time as the mans apprentice and to have someone who understands what it is like to fall for Chases charms. Jack is incredibly protective and when Jermaine suggests he’s manipulating Willow himself, Shadow comes to his defense. 

› She tries to convince them that she’s a monster, not Good and better off with Evil. It’s what she was Made for. Even Jack had reservations to such a decision, he had tried to convince her to carve her own path, to live for herself, but also hadn’t minded the idea of her sticking around. Shadows fears that the monks would be suspicious of her, fear her, or perhaps, she fears herself and what she could become. Jermaine tries to tell her that Master Monk Guan would be able to tell, that together at their temple they could help her thrive, and the transition is not a smooth one (taking likely more than one conversation, i could even see a fight breaking out as Shadow tries to scare him off), but eventually, Shadow is convinced. She slowly makes her leave of Jacks lair, leaving him with a final hug and he’s upset, but wishes her the best and says he’ll kick her butt if she shows up again. She knows he means well, and tells him he can try.

›  She takes a while to reconnect with the monks. Jermaine tells them she needs some distance. She doesn’t ever turn back into her Willow form, as it was always just a mask, and has to learn being comfortable in who she is (though she presents far more comfortably, thus differentiating herself further from being Chases clone). But after a while, the monks are invited to MMGs temple, and they find her laughing with Jermaine, dressed comfortably and trying to copy his dance moves, and after a beat of laughter halting and silence, she’s moved to tears when they eagerly accept her back into their easy friendship. 

[okay now that was mostly me writing the story here’s actual hcs] › Shadow is trans and nonbinary. As Shadow can look very similar to Chase, she’s definitely been able to pass as a younger, gaunter version of him. She doesn’t really get gender politics and is more invested in her own comfort than anyone elses’ approval. Chase just uses they/them for Shadow usually (as I hc him as agender w/ he/they pronouns), and Willow uses she/her to differentiate herself from him.

› When Willow joins the monks, she dressed pretty delicately. Billowy dresses,  and open sandals. But Kimiko is quick to recognize that Willow cannot sit in a skirt and is almost always cold. She takes it upon herself to help Willow be more comfortable, and it’s a quick switch to t-shirts, flannels and combat boots for this dragon! When she stays with Jack, she picks up painting her nails and wearing leather bracelets, as they feel grounding and familiar to the talisman she always wore (but with the upside that she can take them off as she pleases). 

›  Willow isn’t sure what she wants to be called after she rejoins the monks. So she just lets them keep calling her Willow, though she does occasionally feel a bit more ‘Shadow’ at times, whatever that means (usually when she’s being mischievous). Jack calls her Slim Shady. Chase still calls her Shadow. 

›   Shadows natural shapeshifting is three fold. She can turn into a dragon, she can turn into a shadow, and she can chameleon her colors. The Willow form was much of Chases control, she isn’t quite sure how he managed to shapeshift her features so fully. It was likely another magic placed over her. 

›   IN THIS CANON WE GET CUTE  HINTED SHAMIKO (mostly willow crushing hard on kimiko cause she’s so damn nice to her season-1ish and not knowing how to act on it), SHACK (mostly sweet platonic hurt/comfort) AND JERMILLOW (jERMAINE IS A GENTLEMAN AND SHADOW IS DEEPLY AFFECTIONATE FOR HIM).

›  But on that note, Willow ain’t ever used as a seductress in the heckin temple. She’s instead played off more as the completely nonthreatening sort, a bit of a hapless damsel who can barely control her powers (mostly because they’re being blocked) but incredibly promising martial art skills (she really has to force the lack of understanding and slip ups, because she has been training since she was born). Much like Omi, she was sheltered and doesn’t understand a lot of modern things, tends to be quiet and seems solemnly distracted much of the time, and the monks are more protective of her than anything else. As she opens up, they’re more proud of her than anything else, though maybe Kimiko and Clay who spend the most time with her may feel something (if you don’t subscribe to the gay/ace clay hc i love). 

›   SHES A D OG PERSON.