#it felt suitable for what i was trying to achieve with the chapter

[threenounname]

final chapter is up!!!! FINALLY

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- Bits of violence, ptsd, traumatic flashbacks throughout the chapters

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n

..............................................................................................................................

Ch-10~New idols~

Anaya walked silently on the grassy path as she admired the moon shining towards her left. The past few days had been less tormenting and she'd finally been getting an ample amount of sleep. 

She brainstormed for new ideas consulting her writing. This was the hour she thoroughly enjoyed and found suitable to write something down, apart from rainy days. She sensed the presence of another human near her. She silently summoned a small sharp icicle and kept it hidden in her palm. Spending much of her teenage years at Ketterdam had made her cautious enough so as to heighten her senses, even though the palace grounds were quite secure.

She hastily spun around as she felt the fabric of another kefta brush over hers. She pressed the small yet deadly blade to the throat of the mysterious figure. 

The person was much taller than she'd anticipated yet, she held a firm grip on the blade. 

"Not the most suitable time for a visit I believe?" The person spoke. It took her a moment to place the familiarity of the voice, then she noticed the unusual Kefta that confirmed her suspicions.

"Oh my, I apologize, General. You're the last person I expected to be here at this hour"  She dropped her hand in a haste as the weapon vanished from her palm.

"No need to apologize, it's very essential for one to be cautious at all times". "So, Anaya, I see you have been training well" He spoke, as he gestured her to walk along with him.  Anaya hesitated for a moment before joining him

"Yes I have, improved a little. Or 'finally stopped lazing around' as Baghra says" She responded, struggling to figure out what to do with her hands. Damned Keftas, why do they not have any pockets?

"There's been sightings of a herd of special deers and we believe at least few of them to be amplifiers. I'm sending a group of young grisha in hopes of them acquiring their amplifiers". "I am wondering if you'd wish to accompany them?"

Anaya stilled. She'd been wishing to get an amplifier since she'd heard about them, but she'd been stripped off the opportunity to actually acquire one and then she hadn't gotten much training so she no longer believed she had the needed amount of training to achieve one. 

"Of course, I have no intentions on passing on the opportunity" She spoke, trying her best to not sound too thrilled

....................................

Anaya returned to the little palace after about a month. She had left with a group of Etherealnik in hopes of getting her amplifier. Their journey had been successful and disappointing, depending on whom you asked. But it had been quite a boastful one for Anaya.

Now, she walked down the halls with a proud expression washing over her face, and a small round antler fused on the caramel skin of her left wrist. 

A few of the grisha looked at her with astounded expressions and some asked her the details as of how she'd acquired it.

During the afternoon, she was accompanied by Nadia to Lunch who informed her of a supply run across the fold that the Darkling had went on. And as usual, Zoya was one of the members on the crew and she'd been incredibly boastful about it.

Anaya had been reading quietly near her window when she'd heard of their arrival. She'd heard that they've brought some "special girl" with them, and the said girl had some unique ability and had killed several volcra. Though she believed none of that.

.................................................................

The next morning, when she'd gotten out of her room she was informed that all of the grisha had been asked to go to the Grand Palace. A Corporalnik, Sergei, had said that it had been for the "demonstration of the girl's powers".

Anaya still wondered as to why the girl was so special and believed it to be a waste of her time.

What, has the General found some skilled acrobat?, She'd said.

Almost all the Grisha continued to argue amongst each other about what order the girl should go along. The Grisha began to murmur amongst each other about the girl, she was apparently supposed to be a  "Sun Summoner" and had killed several volcra.

Anaya saw Genya lead a girl in a first army uniform towards the hallway. So she's managed to win over Genya aswell? That's why she was nowhere to be found yesterday She thought to herself.

Everyone fell silent as they entered the hallway . Anaya finally managed to get a closer look of the girl. She was about her age and looked frail. She had dull brown hair and eyes that indicated that she might have been Shu, but Anaya wasn't completely sure.

Sergei was the first to step forward and introduce himself.  He took the girl by her elbow and stated that she should walk with her. As he led her towards the Corporalnik, Marie stepped forward and insisted that she should go with them. "She's a summoner, Sergei, she walks with us" She spoke with a bold expression, and the other Etherealnik murmured in agreement as Anaya remained idle at looked at the situation with utter disinterest.

"Marie, you can't be possibly suggesting that she enter the hall as a lower-order Grisha" Sergei spoke as a forced smile played on his lips. Hearing Sergei call the Etherealki a "lower order" infuriated Anaya, yet she choose to steer away from useless arguments.

Marie's expression began to change rapidly and several other summoners shared her reaction "Need I remind you that the Darkling is himself a Summoner?" she spoke in a much harsher tone.

"So you're ranking yourself with the Darkling now?" Sergei responded in a similar tone

As Marie struggled to find words, the girl who has been the sole cause of the whole dispute, spoke up. "Why don't I just go with Genya" she said, attempting to calm the heated situation. It was the first Anaya heard her speak, she spoke with a hesitant demeanor with her voice lacking confidence.

A few people gave low snickers at her words.

"With the Tailor?" Sergei asked with an astounded expression

Genya took no offense of his words and simply smiled and shook her head.

"She belongs with us" Marie spoke yet again, and a highly anticipated argument broke out among everyone.

Anaya rolled her eyes as the loud voices of the Grisha filled her ears, she wished to be anywhere but here at the moment.

Everyone went silent as she heard a familiar voice from behind her. "She'll walk with me" She saw the Darkling standing in the archway

[tetsunabouquet]

Basic Instinct Chapter 24

Masterpost Whilst Rima was working hard on finding Yukimaru a suitable nearby stable, you were sitting down in her garden with Akashi. There was a comfortable bench there, were you had a nice view of the entire garden. You and Akashi sat comfortable and went over the plans Akashi had. "My grandmother did think of having a small, indoor cinema to be built when my mom was young. She kept it in a good state, and she actually continued to use it for herself. We should browse her movie collection to see if she has something that we'd like." Your eyes widened at Akashi mentioning the mini cinema. To this day, you still felt like you couldn't comprehend how rich he really was. But a movie date with Akashi sounded pretty nice. You could imagine the two of you curling up together as you watched a movie and the thought made your cheeks turn red ever so slightly. Akashi saw it, and pressed a kiss on your left cheek, making your face turn an even brighter shade of red. "Stop it." You said, feeling embarrassed, which only made Akashi wrap his arms around you and launch an attack of kisses all over your face. You giggled in his arms. The two of you were so happy, the dreadful memories about your parents earlier already drowned out by each other's laughter and sweet kisses. Sure, there was a sense of vulnerability still tangible in the air, but it only drove you further in Akashi's arms as you longed to feel safe. You knew Akashi felt the same, which made you happy. Being his escape and peace was a very flattering achievement. So the two of you enjoyed each other, took in those adorable little flaws people could when they started living together. Like morning breath, tangled hair that betrayed how the other slept and the drowsy expression of someone who was still in the process of waking up. Could there be happiness that was grander then these intimate little moments the two of you were sharing? Those little secrets of Akashi, that you were the first girl to discover. You knew that the girls at school who envied you were furious if they knew you'd be the first to many of Akashi's precious little moments. You hadn't given it much thought, how often you were to first person to try something with Akashi. It made you think of how important you must be, how there might be a chance that you were as important to him as he was to you. You had spent so much time giving love to people who didn't loved you back with nearly as much devotion, so the idea Akashi was genuinely as devoted to you and as in need of your love as it was the other way around, made your heart do little loops of joy. "Alright, we're going to watch a movie later, but what kind of genre do you like?" You asked him, curiously. You felt like you couldn't know enough of him. "Well, I'm a big fan of the Godfather trilogy, even though the third kind of sucks." You giggled at that. "I know!" He looked at you in surprise. "What? My mom is a huge fan of maffia movies. I know all the classics. Same goes for detectives." He chuckled, just marvelling once more at how perfect you were for him. "I take it you like exciting crime stories?" "Yeah, but true crime often rubs me off the wrong way with the numerous fangirls glamorizing awful monsters and maffia movies generally contain too much violence and guns. I prefer detectives myself, and just think over and over about the mystery at hand. My favorite is the movie adaptation of The 13th Tale. That was a more recent detective coming from the BBC and it got me so hooked I even read the book by Diane Setterfield." "I haven't watched that many detectives, but the BBC seems to be doing the best job at creating them." "Absolutely! Even some of their foreign projects, like the ones at BBC America are awesome. Though I'm not that fond of like, the Sherlock show with Benedict Cumberbatch. That one literally defies the rules Edgar Allen Poe made out when he wrote the first modern detective as we know it!" Akashi thought your nerdy outburst was absolutely adorable, and it certainly had hyped him for the movie date. He couldn't wait.

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part II)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Coming home is melancholy and cold, and your squadmates ask you to do what you couldn't do for a year: speak up and find out what's going on inside Eren's mind.

Words count: 5.3k

They say that when a loved one leaves this world, the days follow turns gray, colorless; How ironic to think that the day we buried Sasha was gray, there wasn’t a trace of the blue sky or some solar ray that could give us the warmth we were lacking. It was cold, a cold that got into your bones and no matter how many hugs and words of mutual support we gave each other, we couldn’t get the warmth we needed.

My soul had been fragmented the moment Sasha left this world, but seeing my friends cry at her grave and leave bouquets of flowers, it fragmented even more. I wasn’t able to meet Nicolo's eyes, my guilt prevented me. Inside, I wanted this Marleyan to yell at me, to tell me that he hated my presence, that Sasha's death had been my fault, and that I should have given my life if it meant saving her. I wanted with all my being that he would give me a reason to really feel guilty.

On the way back to the island, the others assured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I did everything possible to keep her alive. But my ineptitude, my grief, my low self-esteem prevented me from seeing things clearly. I just needed… something to hold onto.

And I wasn't getting anything.

I felt how I was slowly sinking into the rabbit hole, without the possibility of clinging to a tree root. I was falling, falling, falling, unable to know when I would hit bottom. But that bottom came fast before I could have predicted, because minutes after Nicolo arrived, Sasha's father arrived too, bouquet of beautiful red flowers in hand.

I broke myself. The two people who longed for Sasha most in their lives were standing in front of me, mourning the loss of her young soul. The two people who would hate me the most in the world, standing over my friends's grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and in front of her grave, silently begging for forgiveness.

My tears fell incessantly on the freshly stirred earth as did my fingers, imploring this burden on my chest to dissipate, as if unconsciously I was wishing for Sasha herself to forgive me for letting her die. How could one cope with this heinous feeling? How could I go on, knowing that the world was falling around us, unable to know if the next day we were going to be alive or if Marley would initiate an attack from which we weren’t going to be able to defend ourselves?

My head was racing a thousand per second and the only thing I could let out were those sobs that had accompanied me so much on the way back, the same ones that cradled me to slept, and the tears that so much wanted to dissipate the pain in my soul.

It is said that when a person leaves this world, some people are unable to handle grief, just as they are unable to articulate a word. Apparently I was one of those people.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nights and days passed. Those of us who survived the attack on Marley stayed in commune trying to encourage ourselves to continue fighting. Hange had recommended us to rest, since the psychological damage could cause us several injuries in the future, and as for Eren ... we weren’t very aware of him. The last we heard from our commanders is that he was locked away from all human contact, stipulating that it would be better to keep him locked up for a while and let whatever shit that was going through his head dissipate.

But that was complete bullshit. I knew that, even locking him up, they weren't going to be able to change the thoughts that tormented Eren so much. I knew that, whatever was wandering through his mind, he wasn’t letting him alone and he would never let go. How did I know that? Because I spent a whole year trying to get him to let me enter in that shell he has been forming in recent years. I tried very hard to get him to tell me his plan before he went to Marley, but I got nothing, and I still get nothing.

My gaze was lost in the window. The nights grew colder and colder and I hugged my arms as I watched the sunset. The boys were arguing about something, something that Mikasa didn't seem to find funny at all, but my mind wasn’t connected to reality. I just stared out the window, remembering the old days when we'd sneak out to steal a piece of meat from the supply warehouse with Sasha and Connie.

I remembered the nights when the boys sneaked into the women's hut to keep each other warm in our days as recruits. I remembered how Armin let me practice my medicine methods on him when he got hurt, a practice that was lost when he inherited the power of the Colossal Titan.

I remembered how we would escape at dawn, grab a few horses and ride out to the ocean, taking nice cool baths on the warm moonlit summer nights. Now those moments only remained in that, in memories.

"(Y/N) are you listening?"

My gaze detached from the window, now it was fixed on a Connie who looked just as tired of the world as I did. This dwarf turned giant was just as devastated as I was by losing half of him, and yet he was still able to continue fighting alongside our friends.

"We think you might be the most suitable to go talk to Eren"

Armin's calm voice stripped me of any desire to go back to the old moments. I pulled myself away from the window tiredly and let my body unconsciously guide me to one of the couchs in the middle of the room, next to the blonde. Apparently while I was wandering in my thoughts, the tension in the room had reached a point where it could be cut with a simple wave of the hand.

As I sat down, I was able to take a better look at the room. From what I could analyze, the group had divided into two, those who still trusted Eren and those who did not, each with their reasons, and apparently, I was playing the role of mediator. The responsibility fell on me to move the pieces of the board: to talk to our supposed war partner and beg him to tell us about his plans and the demons in his head, or to dethrone him completely.

"What makes you think I can go talk to him?"

My words came out of my mouth colder and sharper than I would’ve liked, but it was the simple truth. If Eren was willing to push each other away to accomplish his task, what was I going to accomplish after a year without having answers to his thoughts?

"I haven't been able to speak to him openly in a year"

Armin and Mikasa gave me completely stunned looks. Not even their childhood friend had told them that his relationship was falling off a cliff.

"I didn't know, I thought you were fine"

"Well, we are not fine at all Armin"

I knew it wasn't fair for Armin to get all my frustration, he wasn't guilty at all. I looked him in the eye and I could find multiple feelings in those huge blue eyes: sadness, compassion, guilt, overwhelm. I knew he was one of the worst going through it, his childhood friend was no longer entirely reliable; he had carried out acts of sheer violence and had become the enemy he hated the most; Armin had become his worst enemy and his eyes clearly showed it.

And it was those same eyes that begged me to do something, to go and talk, to try to figure out the smallest thing we could use to get out of this mess Eren got us into. They implored me to save his soul brother from his mental prison.

I let out a long breath before getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

"I highly doubt that I will achieve anything, but I will try to talk to him"

I took one last look to the guys in front of me before leaving the room, each one wishing me luck and pleading for my well-being with their eyes, and sinking even further into the rabbit hole, or rather, going straight to ventured into the lion's den.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The road to the dungeons was long and heavy, but not because of the number of blocks and alleys I had to take, but because of what was waiting for me at the end of the road. Upon coming into contact with the stone walls and their semi-armored doors, the blood on my body ran cold, just as it ran cold when we buried Sasha.

The air below the ground was cold, the smell of mold and dirt entered my nostrils, preventing me from taking a couple of steps without feeling like vomiting. The place really needed a better cleaning, otherwise it would be the epicenter of a huge plague.

At the end of the corridor, where the light was dimmer and let the darkness eat much of the cell, was Eren. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on his supposed bed, staring directly at the wall, or so it seemed; knowing him he was surely lost in his world. I kept my composure, avoiding giving any trace of my emotional and psychological state.

"Hi"

I got no response, as always.

I had the opportunity to inspect his cell, it was quite untidy and dripping with water, coming from the sink which was covered to the top. Unconsciously I prayed that this water was drinkable or at least that it was not too polluted, since I didn’t have to look completely at the brunette in front of me to know he had put his head in that same water.

"I like your hair, looks very smooth"

"What do you want?"

His voice came out calm but imposing and terrifying at the same time, I would be lying if I said I didn’t startle a bit, but I kept my composure as best as possible to avoid showing the fear in my eyes. Eren may not have noticed, but if he did, he was unfazed.

"The guys think that I can talk to you, but I told them they were completely wrong, I mean...we haven't been able to speak like we used to for a year, maybe more"

My words came out of my mouth like the venom of a snake. I couldn't tell if my intention was to make him feel guilty, or at least feel something, to reflect on my words, but guess what… his eyes didn't even leave the wall behind me.

I crossed my arms and rested my body on one of the bars, hoping to have some intimidating way for the damn bastard to decide to speak. Even though bullying wasn't my thing, I, yes, had a tired face and wasn't there to waste my time, but I had to achieve something, get something, whatever, so I could get out of this damn place.

"You know very well that I'm not going to leave until you say something"

His eyes met mine for a few seconds and then returned to their original position. I knew this was going to be difficult, but I couldn't help my irritation growing from my chest. With every minute that passed, the pain in that area was increasing and a lump in the throat was appearing with each tear that I wanted to avoid shedding.

I'd been through shitty days and had to come alone to the exact place I least wanted to be to talk to the person I least wanted to see.

"I'm used to being on my feet for long hours, I can be here all day, and that's exactly what I'm going to do"

I remained planted in front of the cell, positioning myself with crossed arms right in front of his eyes, preventing them from continuing to look at the miserable wall.

But my bad luck wasn't giving me any sign that I was going to win this fight very soon. Although I was covering his peripheral field, his eyes never deigned to look at me, they simply stayed glued to the front, now seeing my body in front, although in reality, he was seeing without seeing.

My patience was running out and this goddamn silent game had only just begun. I had to find something to work with, something that could flicker him or make him angry… anger would not be the best if I wanted to leave with all the bones intact and my already psychological trauma without further damage; but knowing Eren, anger was his fuel, which made him move and in an action-reaction effect, made everyone move together behind him.

That's it. Everyone. But we weren't all here.

Sasha was dead; Reiner, Berthold and Annie traitors and enemies of Paradis; Ymir disappeared and confirmed dead, being inherited by the new jaw titan; the only one missing from our group was our beloved Queen. The Queen that Eren so decided to care for and protect.

"You know, Historia is about to give birth"

It was mild, but I could feel his body tense. His eyes moved just the same slightly, but in those little acts I knew I had struck a chord. And I was willing to use it, even if it meant destroying my sanity and causing one of Eren's greatest worldly anger.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little baby on the squad?" I took a deep breath before launching the second impact of the night, preparing to receive whatever blow came next. "After all, it's your child, right?"

His body moved faster than I could ever achieve and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to pull away in time. His hand grabbed my shirt, drawing me towards the bars and hitting my cheeks on each one, now my face was directly in front of him, my field of vision being just his face and finally, his eyes were focused on mine.

"Don't even think about talking about Historia like that"

If looks could kill, surely I would already be dead on the ground. His grip on my chest was strong, he was even capable of ripping the fabric, but with a push back showed me that it wasn’t strong enough, that everything was a facade. I staggered, almost fell to the ground, but either way, I kept my balance and my expression. I was terrified inside, but I forced myself to keep a stoic look at all time, he was trying to play with me and although I was not entirely sure how much there were just words and how much were an act of anger and violence, I couldn’t dedicate myself to having a hint of doubt.

"Easy, Romeo, I know you're not the daddy...or are you?"

I adjusted my clothes, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I stared into his eyes, I would get a much worse look than the one he gave me a few seconds ago.

"Whatever, you gave me something to work with, Historia knows something and didn't tell us...gee, I wonder why"

I leaned my body against the cold stone. My gaze went everywhere, trying to keep avoiding his eyes and incidentally have a stronger support for my figure.

"The Queen doesn’t have to say anything to anyone"

Ohhh, you little shit.

If that's the game you want to play, then you're going to lose.

Even if his words were absolutely right, we shouldn’t forget that, before she was queen, Historia had been our friend during training and the entire year of accumulated trauma between betrayals and deaths. If we could continue to have conversations with her and were invited to participate in political meetings, then we had every right to be informed of the supposed plan that Eren implanted in our queen's mind.

For a moment I was scared by the physical and emotional state of Historia. Was Eren capable of keeping her threatened? Did he say or do anything to keep her quiet? The questions seemed to have no head or tail, but if Eren was able to grab me the way he did, I can't imagine what he could do to keep someone quiet.

"Yes, you are right, in the same way, trust only the queen before your friends... that’s brave"

I searched the corridor and the cell for something I could use to attract his attention again, if it was necessary for me to use violence against him, I would be willing to do it. My eyes met a chain anchored to the wall, quite a long chain, to tell the truth. And on the other side, reaching almost the middle of the corridor, I could make out a rather dirty cloth.

I glanced at Eren who had sat back down on his bed, head down in his hands, and walked down the hall with one goal in mind. I grabbed the cloth and walked back to the cell, standing in front of the bars. I reached out my hand to the sink and started to clean up what was left of the spilled water.

"It's all soaked, incredible that they keep a cell like this"

Without taking my eyes off the sink, I could hear Eren settling on his bed, perhaps sitting upright. I kept running the dirty cloth over the water, honestly I wasn’t achieving much apart from spreading the now dirty water even more, but I had to continue with the facade of an understandable couple.

"It's a complete mess...were Historia's legs like this when you railed her?"

As before, Eren had quickly stood up, ready to grab my hand that was inside the cell, but I was already better prepared. When I felt his fingers touch my wrist, I turned my hand to anchor it on his arm and draw him towards the bars, having that same arm outside the cell. With half body on the cold metal, my other hand grabbed the missing arm and with all my strength I pulled his limbs towards me, causing his body and head to crash against the bars.

"Do you want to do it the hard way? fine, we'll do it the hard way"

Eren tried to shake off my grip, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins prevented him from loosening even a millimeter. I pushed him and pulled him back to me, stretching his arms even further and hitting his head on the metal.

"What's wrong with you?"

Again, a back and forth motion.

"What is going on in your head?"

Back and forth.

"How much shit can you have in your mind that you are not able to tell your friends?"

Back and forth.

"TELL ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!"

With one last impact, I hit Eren's head and heard the fibers and tendons in his shoulders rip, just as his skin began to stretch and break, revealing the flesh and muscle beneath it. Rivers of blood flowed over his arms, dropping to the floor and turning his skin red.

His head was also bleeding to the side, soaking his torso and rebel hair. A pool of blood formed under our feet. I let go of his arms and then grabbed the chain that was on the wall and chained him. Considering the number of times he hab been chained since his fifteen years, I suppose one more time wouldn't do any harm to his already traumatized mind.

When I saw his hands were secure I dropped to the floor, not caring about the blood that now adorned the cold stone floor. I could feel my ass starting to get soggy and sticky from the substance. I would have to burn this pants when I got out of there.

Both my mind and my breath hitched, enveloping the environment. I tried to calm down and clear my mind to continue this hell of interrogation. I knew I shouldn't have agreed, and now look at what situation I was in.

"You know I can transform and use the power of the warhammer titan to get out of here"

Eren seemed withdrawn from his situation, as if bleeding to death didn't matter in the least. Steam came out of his shoulders, a sign that he was in the process of regeneration and prayed that this process would take a long time to materialize.

“I know…” I tried to calm my voice and breath before speaking again “but if you transform now, you would end up killing me, and killing me means betraying the legion, and betraying them means betraying the people of Paradis… you don 't want that, do you? "

My words may sound sly, but inside I was wanting to run out of there, get under the covers of my bed and sleep until the day of doomsday; I was even wishing to die in that sleep.

"I'm going to stay here until I know once and for all what's going on in your head, because I know that whatever shit is in there… it's killing you."

Now we were both looking into each other's eyes, fighting a battle in silence, seeing who would give up first. We held eye contact for a few long minutes, unable to tell how many. Maybe it was a couple, maybe half an hour or even an hour; whatever the time, I was already getting bored.

"If I had known it would take so long, I would have brought something to read"

"What has you so worried that you can't even tell Hange or the heichou?"

My question came reluctantly out of my mouth, as if my ability to fight was fading. I was already very tired and it seemed like days since I entered the dungeons.

"Noone would be able to understand"

"Oh please! Don't take me for a fool. Do you think that none of them are battling their own inner demons? Do you think that only you can have intrusive thoughts to fight against?"

His comment irritated me to the core. I never found Eren such a selfish person, and to think that a year or so ago he was declaring his unconditional affection to all of his comrades.

What happened in the last year? What changed?

"Each one of them has to face their own internal wars every day"

Before my anger got the best of me, I took a few small breaths, calming myself. I wasn't going to put me on the same level of hatred and misunderstanding as him, even if it meant throwing away all the years we were together.

"Historia surely has to fight against the stress and the multiple responsibilities that being a queen entails, apart from fighting against the offensive comments of the military police"

Maybe the island has been rid of Titans for a long time, but that didn’t take away the fact that shitty people, like those who lived on the Wall Sina, decided to try and continue controlling the poor people who were split the loin so those ungrateful would have a feast every night.

"Connie is struggling every day against losing his other half, his twin"

Connie, Jean, everyone ... EVERYONE! We were fighting and suffering the mourning of Sasha, of our teammates.

"Shit, surely Jean is still struggling with the memory of Marco after so many years"

Yes. No one had forgotten Marco, especially Jean. But we had to learn to keep going on that very day, we couldn't afford to get sentimental and spoil the next missions. From that day on we learned to watch over our dead mates in silence.

"I fight every day against my incompetence"

And now was the time that I could begin to veil my demons once and for all.

Already my body was begging to rest. I had laid my head on the wall and fixed my gaze on the ceiling. I heard the chains move at my side, a sign that Eren was moving, but I didn't have the strength to look him in the face.

"I fight every day against the image of Sasha dying in my hands"

I know that memory is going to haunt me until the day I die.

"I fight every day against the memories of our comrades dying in battle"

I saw countless deaths throughout the year 850, so many that I decided to use my knowledge in medicine to help even to stop a bleeding. I still remember the first suture I made to a mate already lost in battle ... I was so excited, so happy to be of such help.

"I fight every day against the idea of ​​not being enough"

But that exaltation led to thousands of failures. People who had bled internally, who had lost an arm and couldn’t get to cauterize, hundreds who had lost half their stomach or head.

"I fight every day against our enemies on the other side of the sea"

I wasn't going to deny it, learning the pure and exclusive truth of the world, I couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for the Marleyans. I wanted them to pay for the countless deaths and suffering they had caused, I wanted to see them burn, but at the same time I wanted a reasonable explanation.

"I fight the memories of the titans devouring our friends"

Memories of the first day in battle, right at our graduation, when we thought that nothing could happen. How naive we were. And to think that that was just the beginning of a long list of events that would bring us to this moment.

"I fight every day along side with the memories of the team escaping from the base and messing it up to enjoy the summer nights"

Memories of when we would sneak into the palace and take Historia with us, enjoying the air in our faces and running in the valleys of the countryside. Memories of when we ran cows for some strange reason at the beginning of the day.

Memories of when we were racing with the 3D movement gear through the great forests outside the city. Memories of the occasional punch in the face against the bark of a tree for not knowing where we were going.

"I fight every day against the image of the big bright turquoise eyes that I fell in love with"

My gaze fell on those same eyes, but instead of finding the description that I wanted to see so much, I only found grayish green eyes, eyes that had lost all their brilliance.

I found eyes full of tiredness and anger for the world. The brilliance that so characterized Eren had been lost; now I would have to settle for a blank stare.

"I fight every day ... against the memory of our return to the rooms and Levi punishing us for weeks"

My voice was breaking as I remembered the nights when only Eren and I would sneak out to spend quality time alone. Those nights where we would lie down to see the stars or to lose ourselves in each other in some meadow.

I look at my hands, they were shaking. I couldn't help but remember the first night we spent together, back then I was shaking too, but Eren's hands on my cheeks dispelled any doubt or fear that I could ever have. I unconsciously smiled at the fond memory and I think Eren did too, as I heard a little laugh coming from him.

But no matter how much smiles and laughter the memories gave me, I had to go on and face the world that was now in front of me.

"I fight every day ... against the idea of ​​running towards you, towards your arms"

Those arms that one day gave me warmth. Those arms that one day hugged and covered me the moment I found out that a mate had died. Those strong arms that I knew were going to protect me from any harm.

"I fight against the hope that this is all a nightmare, that you are going to cradle me in your arms and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that it was just a bad dream"

My gaze returned to his, now filled with tears. It hurt, the cruel truth hurt a lot.

"I fight against the desire to stay by your side"

Eren's face was dark, he had returned to how he was at the beginning, without any trace of that soft laugh I heard a few seconds ago.

"I fight with my inner voice that tells me that everything will be fine, that in a few years it will not hurt as much as it does now"

Maybe ... maybe I can start over and when all this nefarious war is over I can find peace, once and for all, and enjoy my friends.

"I fight to move on"

...

"I fight every day...against you"

That was it.

I stood up heavily, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. The blood on the floor was already dry and had left the entire back of my pants stained. I hadn't noticed that the air had been permeated with the iron smell of blood, making my vomiting reflex worse, even though I had avoided it in a good way all this time.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you"

His figure was already fully regenerated and I knew it was a matter of time before he transformed and left this filthy place. Eren might trust what he was doing was the right thing to do, but if he didn’t accept that in the eyes of the world, that in our eyes, his friends, the only family he had left, couldn’t understand his actions, then there wasn’t much to ask from him.

If he wanted to betray us, let him do it.

“Do what you have to do to fulfill your dream, I don't care anymore. But don't expect for me to sit around and wait for you"

"Are you planning to go to the other side of the sea?"

What a stupid and dubious question at the same time. Was I willing to leave my life in Paradis to start over even in the lands of the enemy?

No, not at all. Why I was no traitor.

"No Eren, I am not going to Marley, my family is here...but you are no longer part of it"

Those words hurt, but they needed to be said; that way I could already start to heal.

"Is that all you have to say?"

I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or a sincere question. But yes, it was all I had to say. I couldn't spend another minute in front of someone I didn't even know anymore.

"It's all I can bear"

I took one last look at the prisoner in the cell before turning and continuing down the long corridor of the dungeons.

"Are you leaving so soon? I thought I heard you would stay as long as it takes for me to speak"

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath of the foul smell of the environment. My hand lay on the doorknob and was half open when his words reached my ears. There was no need to shout from a distance, the echo of the stones made it easy for me to hear the smallest whisper of the perpetrator. I opened the door, but not before dedicating my last words.

"Goodbye Jaeger"

And behind me, I closed the door.

[hongjoongtrasher]

Goodbye Baby Goodbye ch.2

GENRE: Angst , smut, fluff

PAIRING: office worker!seonghwa x female reader, ceo!hongjoong x female reader, established relationship, lovers to ennemies.

OTHER: little brother!jongho, best friend!yunho, colleague!yeosang, roommate!san, office worker!mingi, manager!wooyoung.

WARNING: cheating, betrayal, manipulations, protected sex (BE SAFE KIDDOS)

Masterlist - Previous chapter

Synopsis:

It all began when your now 4 year-old boyfriend Seonghwa had an invitation to his entreprise’s party. Surprised to hear you could tag along, you met Kim Hongjoong, the CEO and close friend of Seonghwa. Rumored to be a playboy, the rich boss of your boyfriend is determined to add you to his conquests.

Indeed, Seonghwa wasn’t lying when he was saying KQ Enterprise was like an empire. You’ve never been there, and yet you were here, standing in front of the gigantic building, right after your boyfriend came to pick you up.

The preps for this evening have been like a war. Fortunately, San helped you a lot. He was a good adviser for your makeup and hairstyle. Since you had received such an expensive dress from your boyfriend’s boss, you couldn’t let the rest being down. Of course, when you called Seonghwa in a intense panic, talking about the dress you got from Mr. Kim, he didn’t seem surprised.

« Oh, actually I talked to him about the dress code, and he figured out you may be hadn’t an outfit for this occasion. But I swear I didn’t ask anything from him. »

You were still bewildered after his explanation, because it didn’t explain how he got your name and address. But Seonghwa only said:

« Mr. Kim is a man full of resources Y/N. He’s the CEO at the head of an empire, so it’s not really surprising he’d found your personal informations. But don’t worry, he won’t do anything armful to you. »

Still, you weren’t really happy with the fact your boyfriend’s CEO could find your personal infos so easily.

« Y/N…Just accept this gift. I’m sure he didn’t want to upset you, just pleasing you, in a certain way. »

« Fine, I won’t talk about it from now on » you grumbled into your phone. « But I don’t want any of those things in the future. »

And the D-day came. San had left you right after you were done, his own boyfriend came to pick him up as well. It was the first time you were meeting Wooyoung. He seemed to be a nice guy and you had this sort of feeling of knowing him for a long time even though it was the first time you were meeting. While San was still in the bathroom, Wooyoung explained to you his position in KQ Enterprise. He was the team manager of the economic team whereas Seonghwa was a manager into the CEO personal team. You were impressed by how high they were into this enterprise but Wooyoung smirked and mischievously answered:

« Because KQ Ent is mainly composed of young people. The Boss is privileging youth over oldies who will soon retire. »

San soon came to see you both, signalling his boyfriend he was ready. Wooyoung smiled at the other male who was really handsome tonight. You didn’t know San could be this hot in this all black tuxedo and hair pulled back. You were so used to see him in sweat pants and shirts with messy hair. Such a loss for the women population you had thought at this moment.

« Weeeell, I’m ready, so we’ll go ahead Y/N, see you there ! ~ » said San with a large smile which made a weird difference from his look.

You nodded and waved to the boys. Only five minutes after, Seonghwa knocked at your door. You came to open the door, trying not to step on the expensive shiny dress you were wearing. When you opened the door, you had found a subjugated Seonghwa, his mouth opened as soon as his eyes landed on your elegant figure. But he was so handsome as well. Wearing a dark blue tuxedo with a white shirt, a silky pocket tissue on his perfect blazer. His dark hair were neatly styled by some wax, and you could smell his cologne from here. You felt so lucky at this moment to have him as your boyfriend.

« You’re gorgeous » he only whispered after a moment, which made you blush.

« T-Thanks. San helped me to..mh be prepared » you mumbled back shyly, not used to wear expensive stuffs.

« You ready ? » he asked softly.

« I just have to grab some things and put my shoes and we’re good to go. »

You wearing heels was a thing to watch. Fortunately, the most suitable pair you had was almost brand new. You had bought them with your first pay check from your part time job, but soon gave up when you tried to keep them more than a whole day. You also had a classic white blazer and a small pouch that Seonghwa had gifted to you for your second couple anniversary.

« Hwa…What should I do ? I’m so nervous » you shakily said when he came to you after parking his car.

You felt his hand falling on your back as he made sure you were facing him. His eyes searched for yours as he said firmly and yet so sweetly:

« Everything’s gonna be alright Y/N. I’ll be by your side. »

His other hand gently stroke your cheek as you nodded, trying to repress your anxiety. Seonghwa took your hand to pass it around his arm. And then, you both entered the giant building where security guards were controlling the entry. They didn’t ask your name but bowed their head at your boyfriend, letting you pass easily while shouting : « Good evening sir ! »

For a second you thought being in a drama, it felt so unreal that you almost lost your nervousness. Seonghwa leaded you calmly to the reception hall, where you could already hear people chatting and the classy jazz music in the background.

« Oh my God » you repeated to yourself, squeezing Seonghwa’s arm tightly to which he responded by squeezing your hand with his free one.

The huge hall was crowded with a lot of people, most of them were employees here. You just kinda followed Seonghwa, politely greeting people he was saying « Good evening » etc. You glanced around you furtively, small standing tables were on display for everyone to get some appetizer even waiters were going through the crowd with silver trays with champagne glasses. You got one from Seonghwa. You weren’t usually drinking, or more you weren’t a good drinker, but you were feeling like drinking right now to forget your tension. As Seonghwa was talking to another manager, suddenly everything stopped and most of the others’ eyes were all directed in one direction.

A rather small man had entered the huge hall, platinum hair pulled back but with a sharp glance arrived. Even if you were at the other side of the room, you could feel his obvious charisma as he made his way through the mike stand near the small pair of musicians. You noticed his dark winey red tuxedo, perfectly fitting his body. You almost shivered when Seonghwa leaned to your ear to whisper: « It’s CEO Kim. »

Kim Hongjoong, the brilliant CEO of KQ Enterprise. He was known to be really young to be the owner of such a company, but his youth wasn’t a hurdle to rule over his company with an iron handle. The hall had gone completely silent, waiting for the host of this party to talk. He cleared his throat before offering a smug smile to the assembly, his eyes scanning the large hall.

« Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the annual party of KQ Enterprise. Tonight, is the night where we are celebrating our achievement for the past goals we were keeping in sight. I am well aware that I maybe asked for a considerable amount of efforts during those past months, but this is thanks to your hard work, perseverance and audacity that we can proudly announce that KQ Enterprise will add the brand new branch in the US market… »

A salvation of applauses erupted in the huge hall, Seonghwa clapping enthusiastically. You were a bit confused but followed the move, fairly impressed by his speech. But he wasn’t done yet.

« As you also know, I may be the CEO, but everything wouldn’t be possible without my dear sister, Hyewon - once again people applauded towards a young woman who was standing at the corner of the stage, humbly bowing her head at her brother’s words- who always find the good words to guide me. I received a lot of praises from you all tonight, but I am not the only one to be thanked tonight. You all deserve to be thanked for your hard work, and be proud to belong to our enterprise. Thank you »

A standing ovation exploded as the blonde exited the stage, bowing slightly to some people who were still applauding him.

Seonghwa looked so proud at the moment that you turned to him to congratulate him as well. « You’re amazing, I’m proud of you » you said as he chuckled in shyness. « I’m not that amazing, I’m just doing my work »

Soon the classic music returned and people began to chat between each other’s again. You gazed to the next standing table to see San with Wooyoung, champagne glass in one hand. Your roommate noticed you and made sure to lift his glass to you, which you imitated for him. After a moment, you began to think this party wasn’t so bad, until you heard the same voice earlier from the mike addressing to your boyfriend.

« Seonghwa, you came ! »

You turned quickly to see that CEO Kim was here, giving your boyfriend a brotherly embrace, his hand tapping his back as Seonghwa looked slightly surprised but soon gained his composure again. You felt your body froze suddenly.

« Congratulations, Mr. Kim » he said genuinely happy for his boss.

« I told you already to call me Hongjoong » said the blonde with a wide smile, showing his white teeth.

Then his dark eyes soon switched to your persona. You quickly bowed to your boyfriend’s boss, feeling his gaze scanning your whole body.

« You must be Y/N…I’m glad to see the dress I’ve sent you fit you so well. Not to say, you’re beautiful »

You straighten up to mumble awkward words, but the blonde took your hand to do a hand kiss, making your heart flutter.

« I…It’s nice to meet you Mr. Kim, and you shouldn’t have for the dress » you quickly said in a choked voice, making him laugh.

« It’s nothing, it was my pleasure. I hope you will keep it. »

His eyes fixed yours, making you drown into their intensity, as he softly let your hand goes. You heard your boyfriend’s greeting someone else who was no one but Hongjoong’s sister. Seeing her close, you could tell she was gorgeous. Beauty was running into the family genes you thought as your gaze hadn’t left Hongjoong’s figure.

« Hyewon, this is Seonghwa, my manager into my team, and his girlfriend, Y/N »

Hyewon smiled at Seonghwa, bowing her head slightly and to you as well.

« It’s nice to meet you. I heard a lot from my brother about you Seonghwa. »

You looked at your boyfriend who seemed fluttered by her. You had no doubt about your boyfriend’s work, and you felt proud for him. But you soon felt like about to faint, not really knowing how to follow the conversation. Unless you excused you politely to join San’s table.

« Hey, how is it going Cinderella ? » he asked you teasingly.

« Stop it » you groaned lowly once you were next to him. « Wooyoung ? »

« Went to the bathroom » answered your friend, taking a sip to his glass. « You met him right ? »

San was indeed talking about Hongjoong, and you nodded, also taking a sip of your golden liquid.

« Yeah…He…He seems nice but, he has such an aura…so charismatic » you told San openly.

« No wonder, have you heard his speech earlier ? He probably is our age, but act like a king » San chuckled before Wooyoung came back.

« Everything’s good for you Y/N ? » asked your roommate’s boyfriend, probably worried not to see Seonghwa by your side.

You nodded in confirmation as you nudged your chin behind you where Hongjoong was still talking to your boyfriend with her sister.

« He’s incredible right ? » asked Wooyoung enthusiastically.

« Yes, indeed, he’s a genius in a sense » you hummed.

« Thank you »

You gasped when you heard again Hongjoong’s voice behind your back, making you turn quickly to face him. You’ve turned so fast that you almost stripped on your dress, Hongjoong carefully stretched his arm to hold you back if you were falling. But fortunately you didn’t.

« Wow, be careful, I didn’t mean to scare you. I apologize. »

« No no, it’s fine, I’m the one who should apologize haha » you nervously croaked back, making him slightly smirk.

Wooyoung and San bowed to the impromptu visitor. Hongjoong greeted them back but it was obvious he wanted to talk to you alone, so Wooyoung gently dragged your boyfriend away, pretexting the appetizer were better at another table. Once you were alone with Hongjoong, you didn’t dare to look at him in the eyes, to shy to do it as you could feel his piercing gaze on you.

« Are you enjoying your night ? » he asked softly, his hand gently turning a darker liquid on a glass.

« Yes, absolutely, it’s…wonderful. » you answered, trying to appear as calm as you wanted.

« I’m glad you like it. I don’t like sort of …formal gathering, but Hyewon says it’s important for the employees and she’s right. »

His eyes hadn’t left you from the beginning of this conversation.

« Seonghwa is lucky to have you by his side » he commented, making you surprised to ear this from him.

After all, he was the CEO, the almighty here. He could have any woman he wanted, anything could be his in a flash. But seeing one of his close friend having such a cute girlfriend like you made him slightly jealous. Cute and beautiful. He was subjugated by your beauty as soon as his eyes landed on you.

« I’m the one who is more lucky to have him » you explained in a shy smug smile. « He is very capable in every thing. »

« Indeed…I agree » hummed Hongjoong, finally departing his eyes from you to see his sister still talking with your boyfriend.

The night went well, since Seonghwa came to find you not a long after with San and Wooyoung, Hongjoong already had left since he had more people to talk with. You were somehow in a daze. Talking to Hongjoong kind of relieved your stress but at the same time left a deep impression on you.

« Are you alright baby ? » whispered Seonghwa to your ear since your cheeks were bright red.

« I’m fine ! »

« It’s because she’s drinking her fourth glass of champagne ~ » teased San while you gave him a deathly glare.

Seonghwa frowned at your roommate’s words.

« Y/N, you know you cannot handle alcohol very well »

He wasn’t angry or anything, just worried about your current state. Actually you weren’t that drunk, just enough to be dizzy and mostly feeling the urge to go to the bathroom. You just smirked and said:

« Let me go to the bathroom, and I’ll be back. »

« We should go after. » softly said Seonghwa before watching you leave the hall.

It would be a lie to say you were walking straight, or at least in your head you were. But while you were gone into the hallway, you went to the bathroom to relief yourself and also try to refresh your face. Once you were done, you came out from the bathroom, expecting to see people, but no one was here. The silent corridor made you uncomfortable so you decided to go back to your boyfriend until you heard footsteps coming right at you. You froze when you saw Hongjoong in front of you. He looked a bit tired, but his elegant face was still expressing the same charisma as earlier. He looked up to see you and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

« Oh…isn’t it Y/N ? Are you alright ? » he asked politely.

« I…I’m doing fine, thank you sir. » you answered quietly, the ambient silence making the conversation awkward since there wasn’t music as before or people to break it.

He arched a brow at your answer as he took a step closer, now facing you. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. Suddenly, you wanted to leave right now, your heart pounding hard into your chest.

« Really ? You look a bit red. Did you drink a lot ? » his voice was soft, but somehow different.

« I maybe had too much champagne » you chuckled nervously, trying to avoid his gaze.

He didn’t answer, instead his gaze was gauging your face. God, you were so pretty. It would be difficult to deny he tried to see you each time he was near you, but he couldn’t due to others circumstances. He really like how you look gorgeous into this dress he had bought for you.

« You’re gorgeous …You know that ? »

His remarks make you gulp, your eyes slightly looking up to see his, still fixed on you, his hands in his pocket.

« T-Thank you. I’m really grateful for the dress you’ve gifted me.»

He took a moment of silence before the corner of his lips went up.

« Are you ? Well, will you do me a favour ? » he asked, still contemplating your gorgeous, so tempted to do a dangerous move.

You were kind of puzzled. A favour ? What possibly could you do for a man who had almost everything ? You slowly nodded, unsure of what you just agreed to do if you could.

« Just stay still » he said faintly.

It happened very fast. Even before you could realise, Hongjoong had you pinned on the wall nearby, his lips crashed on yours for a heated kiss. In shock, you didn’t react fast as one of his hand groped your thigh firmly. Your body was frozen, but your brain soon snapped, making you push the man who was kissing you.

« S..Stop ! What do you think you are doing right now ?! » you yelled, panting as if you’d just ran a marathon.

Your boyfriend’s boss just kissed you while he clearly knew who your boyfriend was. Astonishment soon left place for anger. Hongjoong dark eyes glanced at you with a devilish tint. You felt like a pray, caged by the predator who could eat you in a second and you hated that feeling.

« Somehow, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you. » he explained in a nonchalant tone. « Of course I know, you have Seonghwa and everything, but…You must have heard about it. I love women, and when I want something, I get it. »

His words made you shiver in horror. What kind of man could do this without any guilt ?? It was enough for you, that a neat and loud sound of a slap echoed in the empty hallway.

« You’re crazy. » you just muttered after you faced Hongjoong’s, head turned on his right as he just got slapped.

Without any words, you hurried to join your boyfriend, horrified by what happen. But you also realised you couldn’t say anything to him. You could, but it wouldn’t be a good option for him. You knew how close they were, but knowing this, he would surely fight against his boss and be fired within the next days. That’s why you decided to take the best normal face you could have and found Seonghwa at the entrance of the hall.

« Are you alright Y/N ? I almost thought something happened. » Seonghwa asked in a worried tone.

« N…No everything’s alright. I just…took time in the bathroom, sorry. » you muttered, lowering your head. You couldn’t watch him in the eyes at this moment.

Seonghwa looked also puzzled, noticing your cheeks were abnormally red. He thought it was because of the alcohol so he didn’t try to ask for more.

« Let’s go home. » he said, his hand gently pushing you by the back towards the exit.

You nodded maybe too fast, but at least he wasn’t suspicious of anything.

« What about San ? » you asked while you exited the place to your relief.

« Wooyoung drove him home too. He was quite…tipsy. » said Seonghwa next to you.

You appreciated the fresh air brushing your face, happy to head your roommate would be here once you would be home.

The trip back to your home happened in silence, your head dropped on the head back of your seat, just watching the lights and neon passing by your eyes.

« So…Did you like it ? » asked suddenly Seonghwa, making your heart dropped in a second.

« W-What ? »

« The party » he said, his eyes on the road.

« Oh…It was alright I guess…But I don’t think I would go again » you muttered, the reason was pretty clear for you but your boyfriend could think another reason.

« Sorry, I know it made you uncomfortable. Next time I won’t force you to go. »

« No it’s alright, it was fine…It’s just that …it’s a different world to me » you forced a smile for him, your hand gently pressing his shoulder.

Soon, you arrived in front of your building. Seonghwa made sure to get you safely to your door.

« Thank you for tonight » he said lowly, maybe because it was late and didn’t want to wake anyone asleep. « You did well, I’m proud of you »

His praise made you smiled genuinely while you tried to erase the flash of Hongjoong kissing you.

« I’m glad…Thank you for tonight. »

Seonghwa’s warm hands gently cupped your face, pulling you to him for a sweet kiss. This time you were relaxed, because it was him. Because his lips were the only ones which had rights to kiss you and no one else. But why your head kept sending you back to Hongjoong’s lips feeling ?

taglist: (don't hesitate to ask to be tagged) @ateezbabysitters

Also don't hesitate to comment and share :)

[emospritelet]

Manifesto - chapter 10

It's been 84 years...

Last time, Sutherland convinced Belle to join in with a Government consultation. Cue snark and UST

[AO3]

-

Belle stared at Sutherland, her pulse thumping at the base of her throat as she met his eyes. He had that tiny smile on his face, his eyes glinting, and she licked her lips nervously.

“I - I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said lamely, and he pushed upright.

“Well, it is my house,” he said. “After a fashion.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” She closed her eyes, swallowed, and opened them again. “I just meant I didn’t think you’d concern yourself with a consultation, that’s all. I - I thought it might be one of your Ministers.”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t,” he agreed, reaching for the coffee. “But we’ve decided to give this policy more priority, and given that it’s a cross-government initiative, I thought I’d show face.”

“Right,” she said weakly. “Great.”

“Oh, I won’t be here for the whole thing,” he added. “I suspect I’ll leave after lunch. Coffee?”

“Thank you.”

Belle looked around the table, spying pieces of folded card printed with names marking each place. She read over the names, trying to find her own.

“You’re here,” said Sutherland, placing both hands on the back of one of the chairs and pulling it out. “Please. Take a seat.”

For a moment she was frozen in place, but then she lifted her chin, stalking around the table and sitting down. He pushed her chair in, and she murmured her thanks, squeezing her thighs together as he reached over her shoulder and grasped a cup and saucer between thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling it over until it was in front of her. Belle watched the movement of his hand: long, tanned fingers above a perfectly white shirt cuff, and wanted to sigh. Nope. Still fancy him. Dammit!

“I trust your journey here wasn’t too tiring,” he said, crossing to the chair opposite the door and taking a seat.

“It was fine,” she said automatically.

“And the accommodation?” he went on. “I’m sure Anna arranged something suitable.”

“Yes, it’s - uh - lovely.”

He nodded, reaching for his own coffee, and Belle glanced down at the table. There was a folder of documents in front of her, a close-up picture of a smiling multiracial group of people with their arms around each other in front of a gleaming modern building of steel and glass. Shaping a Stronger Society was written in yellow font on a dark blue background. Belle opened the folder to reveal a sheaf of documents, the day’s agenda lying uppermost.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day,” said Sutherland, making her jump. “We’ll do our best to keep you lubricated. There’s plenty more coffee, if you need it.”

Belle automatically took a sip of her own coffee, and was spared the ordeal of making conversation by the door opening to reveal Anna. She was followed by several men and women in suits, and there was a buzz of conversation as introductions were made and seating places indicated. Belle smiled at the man who was directed to sit next to her. He looked a little out of place in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, glasses perched on his nose and red hair curling back from a high forehead. Belle read his nameplate.

“Dr Archibald Hopper,” she said. “Are you an academic?”

“Oh, Archie, please,” he said, with a warm smile. “And yes, I was a practising psychiatrist for many years. More recently I’ve been teaching at Cambridge, so that and research take up most of my time.”

Belle sat up excitedly.

“Oh! I studied at Cambridge,” she said happily. “So of course I have to say there’s no finer university for you to be teaching at.”

“Well, I certainly won’t argue with that,” he said with a smile. “And everyone knows who you are. A modern day freedom fighter for literacy, which is an excellent cause. Miss French, I believe.”

“Belle’s fine,” said Belle, with a grin. “What’s your interest in this?”

“I’ve been studying the psychological impact of poverty and deprivation and its links to poor health and other life chances,” he said earnestly. “I think your interests and mine probably overlap.”

“I should think they probably do,” said Belle. “Although I imagine your credentials are somewhat more impressive than mine.”

“On the contrary,” said Archie. “You have experience in the field, as it were. I’d certainly be interested in hearing your perspective on the literacy programmes you’ve introduced.”

“You heard about that?” she asked, surprised, and he smiled.

“There were a number of pieces in the press after your - ah - meeting with the Prime Minister,” he said. “I understand you’ve created a useful community resource built around literacy for all ages.”

Belle opened her mouth to explain what she was doing, but was cut off by Sutherland clearing his throat.

“Right, well, good morning everyone,” he said, leaning on the table and glancing around at the occupants. “We have a full schedule, and I’m sure you all want to make the most of it, so I won’t be doing the creeping death of introductions around the table, as you’re no doubt relieved to hear. We can save the obligatory networking for the tea breaks.”

There was an appreciative chuckle from the attendees.

“You all have a pack of documents in front of you,” he went on. “This contains information on everyone here, including interests and expertise. I’m pleased to see such a range of talent around this table, and I’m excited to see what we can achieve together. I know you all take the development of this policy as seriously as I do.”

Belle found herself nodding along with the others. Sutherland certainly knew how to command attention.

“The documents also set out some of the initial research provided by the government departments leading on this policy,” he said. “Of course you all have your own experience, and no doubt your own sources to bring to the table. I fully expect this to be a challenging session with a lot of strong opinions being aired, but I’m confident that we can avoid too much bloodshed.”

There was a ripple of laughter, but Sutherland’s eyes lingered on Belle a little longer than the others. She met his gaze steadily, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“You might well be wondering why I’m here,” he added, looking around. “The Shaping a Stronger Society policy will fulfil several key campaign pledges and lay the groundwork for lasting change. I thought it right that I give it the high profile it deserves, particularly when it cuts across so many Government departments. We need to be presenting a united front on this.”

“I’m sure the fact that it’s election year is a happy coincidence,” remarked a woman with a white-blonde bob over dark roots. Belle read her nameplate: Ella Deville-Waters. Sutherland grinned.

“Well, you know what they say, Ella,” he said. “Politics is eighty percent timing, ten percent luck—”

“And ten percent knowing how to lie with a straight face,” drawled Ella, making everyone chuckle.

“Thought that was at least sixty percent,” muttered Belle, and Archie laughed and managed to turn it into a cough.

“Let’s get started,” said Sutherland, glancing at Belle again. “I know there are a few of you with presentations to give on your own areas of interest, and I’m assured the technology is working, so I’ll hand things over to each of you. Anna, could you help Miss French set up the first presentation?”

Belle blinked rapidly.

“Me?” she said weakly, and Sutherland smiled.

“Gets it out of the way, hmm?”

She supposed it would.

-

Standing up in front of a sea of expectant faces turned towards her, Belle momentarily wanted to run from the room. Once she started speaking and concentrated on her passion for the subject, however, she forgot that she was presenting to a bunch of politicians and academics in Downing Street. The fifteen minutes she had been allotted went by more quickly than she thought possible, and prompted a number of questions that she was able to answer easily. She sat down with a thump next to Archie afterwards, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, and he sent her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the next speaker, Ella Deville-Waters. It turned out that she was Undersecretary for Education, and she spoke eloquently about the importance of early years learning.

There were other presentations, each followed by an opportunity for questions, the final talk being given by Archie. Belle scribbled notes as he spoke, and made a note of the papers he referenced; they sounded like something she would be interested in reading at a later date. When the questions were finished, Sutherland announced that they would break for coffee, and Belle felt herself sigh in relief. She was surprised to see that it was eleven-thirty already; the morning was almost over.

The rest of the day went reasonably well and the group generated some robust discussion; despite Sutherland having said he would be leaving after lunch, he showed no sign of doing so, and took the lead in steering the conversation. There was general agreement on the merits of expanding opportunities for all, and the desired outcome of the policy. Disagreements arose when it came to discussing how to get there. There was a frank exchange of views between Belle, Ella, and the brusque Sir George King, who worked for the Treasury. He seemed to take any suggestion that money would have to be spent as a personal affront. Anna had to step in and smooth things over more than once, and Belle could feel her patience draining away as the day drew towards evening. The draft call for evidence that was produced was the last straw.

“This doesn’t go nearly far enough,” she said bluntly, lifting the paper and dropping it on the table. “The questions skirt around the real issues, and there’s no meat on the bones of this thing. Whatever responses you get won’t address what we’ve been talking about all day. It’s papering over the cracks at best.”

“This is merely a scoping document,” said Sutherland mildly. “And a first draft at that. You can’t expect the policy to be fully-formed at this stage.”

“No, but if this is the direction we’re being nudged in, the whole thing is pointless,” she said. “How can you expect us to even start to make a difference if you refuse to fund it properly?”

Sutherland took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been over this, Miss French,” he said, sounding weary. “Budget constraints—”

“Yes we have been over this, and as I’ve said, budget constraints only ever seem to apply to policies that benefit the many over the few,” she said tartly. “Your Government may have managed to sweep the whole Pennine Consortium debacle under the rug a couple of years ago, but I remember the reports about the amount of public money that was being poured into that project, and it turned out to be going into the back pockets of the Home Secretary’s relatives!”

“Paying out according to contractual agreements is normal practice in business, I believe,” he said, in a bored voice. “The matter was investigated and the Home Secretary was cleared of all wrongdoing, as I’m sure you’re aware. ”

“My point is that billions were paid out for defence contracts with no questions being raised about whether they were affordable.”

“Clearly you didn’t watch the Select Committee hearings,” he remarked. His voice was a flat drawl that was doing nothing to stop her rising irritation.

“They were held after the money had been spent, not before, that’s my point!”

“And of course the purchase of tanks is entirely analogous to the development of literacy programmes.”

“I’d argue that the purchase of tanks is of decidedly lower value, actually,” she said.

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to make these decisions, isn’t it?”

Anna cleared her throat.

“Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?” she suggested. “Ella, what were you saying about school opening hours?”

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” said Ella cheerfully, waving a hand. “I’d much rather listen to this argument.”

“No one’s arguing,” said Sutherland coolly. “Miss French has a passionate nature, it seems.”

“Thanks, that’s not at all patronising,” said Belle, in a dry tone.

“Passion for public service is to be commended,” he said, matching her tone. “I thought I was giving you a compliment.”

“No you didn’t.”

Sutherland fixed her with a dark-eyed stare, his mouth flat. It was strangely arousing, and she could feel her breathing quicken. She told herself it was irritation.

“Your input here is valued, Miss French,” he said, his jaw a little clenched. “But I’d be grateful if you would allow us to guide you through this process, given that you know nothing about the way Government works.”

“No, I don’t,” she agreed, losing the last of her patience. “I don’t know about policy-making and contract negotiation and tendering and public procurement. And likewise I’d say you and most of the people that work for you don’t know what it’s like to worry about where the next meal is coming from.”

“Which is why we’re seeking the input of a wide range of stakeholders such as yourself.” He was trying for a smooth tone, but his eyes were flashing, and she could sense he was getting as annoyed as she.

“If you’re not prepared to listen to us, then it’s all empty gestures, isn’t it?” she protested.

“Wanting your input and allowing you to set the parameters of this thing are two entirely different things,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry if your expectations are out of step with reality.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Right!” said Anna briskly, slapping the table and making everyone jump. “That seems like a good place to break until tomorrow. It’s been a long day and I’m sure everyone could do with some fresh air.”

“Could do with a stiff drink, I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Ella, and there were appreciative murmurs from the others.

Belle sat back in her seat, listening with half an ear as chairs scraped back and papers were gathered up. Sutherland had already gone, stalking out of the room, and the others were throwing curious glances at her as they pulled on coats and drained cups.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Belle,” said Archie, tucking his folder of papers into a battered brown leather bag. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about the scope being too narrow.”

She gave him a grateful look, and a smile, and he ducked his head a little and sauntered out. Belle sighed, toying with the cold cup of tea in front of her as the others began to file out. She felt drained, wrung out. Was this what it was like every day for politicians? She wondered how they coped. Maybe it was why so many seemed to go grey so quickly.

“You settling in for the night?”

Anna’s voice made her look up, and Belle realised they were alone.

“Sorry, I was miles away,” she said. “I feel as though my brain’s been scrambled and stuffed back in my head all wrong.”

“Welcome to Whitehall,” said Anna, in a deadpan tone, and Belle giggled.

“Sorry for letting my temper get the better of me at the end,” she said. “I’m not cut out for politics, it seems.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Anna. “You have the ability to see to the heart of things. He wasn’t joking when he said your input is valued, you know.”

Belle sighed, running her hands over her face.

“It just - it feels like I’m wasting my time here,” she said. “I know I don’t have much longer before the library has to close, and - and yet I’m down here in London, in what seems like a hopeless uphill battle! Maybe I should just go back to Avonleigh and try to do what little good I can.”

“You may have longer than you think,” said Anna, gathering up some papers. “The Prime Minister approved a scheme for local authorities a few days ago. It offers grants to support providers of breakfast clubs and after-school learning.”

Belle sat up.

“Like the library?” she asked, and Anna shrugged.

“Seems likely, doesn’t it?” she said. “Oh, we’ve made sure that local authorities have to use it for the intended purpose, by the way. The scheme is due to launch next week. I’d keep my eyes peeled to the website, if I were you.”

She put the papers in a leather satchel and took out another folder before slinging the satchel over one shoulder. Belle was smiling, her heart swelling with what felt like hope for the first time in months.

“A reprieve for the library?” she said. “And it was his idea?”

“Like I said.” Anna hitched the satchel on her shoulder. “He does listen. You might not think so, but he does.”

“Listening’s all very well,” said Belle. “It’s the choices that are made that are the issue.”

“There isn’t always a choice,” said Anna firmly. “Or at least, not one a Prime Minister can make.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Difficult decisions have to be made,” she added. “Sometimes hundreds each day. Everything’s urgent, everything has an impact, and he tries his best to make the right call based on the information given by people he trusts. He doesn’t always get it right. No one could.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“He has to balance fifty competing interests with almost every decision he makes,” she went on. “The papers turn on a dime and whoever’s lauded one week gets pilloried the next. Everyone around him is looking to him to lead and half of them are willing him to fail so that they can step into the spotlight. I won’t let that happen if I can help it.”

She picked up the folder of papers, turning on her heel.

“I’ll show you out,” she said over her shoulder. “I expect you’ll want an early night after today. Or a large drink. Or both.”

“You care about him,” said Belle, and Anna stopped dead before slowly turning back to face her.

“Yes,” she said simply. “He’s a good friend. And whether or not you believe it, Miss French, he’s a good man.”

Belle was silent for a moment.

“I haven’t made up my mind on that score,” she said eventually.

“Oh, I didn’t say he wasn’t a stubborn bloody pain in the arse at times,” added Anna. “He’s definitely that.”

Belle couldn’t help giggling.

“Well, bearing all that in mind, and in the interests of cooperation,” she said. “I suppose I really ought to apologise for snapping at him.”

Something in Anna seemed to relax at her words, and she smiled again.

“He’s used to being snapped at,” she said dismissively. “He gets far worse in the Commons, let’s face it. But an apology would probably make him more inclined to listen to you, so I certainly won’t stand in your way.”

Belle nodded agreement, and Anna jerked her head towards the door.

“I was going to take these reports to him before I head off,” she said, holding up the folder. “If you felt like going there now, I’d be happy to tell him you want to have a word.”

Belle hesitated, but nodded, and Anna smiled briefly and headed for the door. The interior of Downing Street was busier than Belle had expected at that time in the evening, aides hurrying with laptops and drinks and phones clasped to their ears. Anna led her down a wide, thickly-carpeted corridor and paused outside a heavy office door, where two Special Branch officers nodded to Anna and eyed Belle suspiciously before stepping aside. Anna rapped smartly on the door, and Belle heard a muffled bid to enter from behind it. She could feel her heart thumping in trepidation, and when the door opened she could see a room with a high ceiling, dark green carpet and a dresser in dark, polished wood where several cut crystal decanters sat, their contents gleaming in shades of amber and ruby. There were two leather armchairs and a couch around a coffee table in the same dark wood. Bookshelves stretched around two walls of the room, and Sutherland was sitting behind a heavy desk opposite the door, scribbling something. His eyes narrowed as they met Belle’s, but Anna walked forward, cutting off his view.

“Brought you those updates on the infrastructure options,” she said breezily, holding up the files. “If you want to go through them later let me know. I thought I’d go and get something to eat.”

“So I know why you’re in my office,” he said evenly, sitting back and putting down his pen. “Not too clear on the presence of Miss French. Unless she thought of something else she wanted to call me.”

“Actually I’m here to apologise,” said Belle, making his brows lift in surprise. “So I’m not about to insult you unless you start something.”

Sutherland’s mouth worked, as though he was trying not to laugh.

“Uh - thank you, Anna,” he said, glancing away. “Yes, go and get some dinner. I think Miss French and I can have a conversation without it coming to blows.”

“Good,” said Anna. “Behave.”

Belle was unsure who that last comment was directed at, but Anna left the room before she could ask, shutting the door behind her with a click. She turned slowly on her toes to face Sutherland, who was leaning back in his chair and tapping his papers with a pen, staring at her.

“Anna told me about the local authority grants for educational services,” she said. “That should help a lot more libraries stay open.”

“That’s the idea,” he said, with a shrug.

“Providing librarians know it’s available, of course,” she added.

“There’ll be an announcement when it’s launched,” he said. “Of course there’s nothing to stop you contacting your peers and explaining the process.”

“I guess not.” She fiddled with a button on her jacket before smoothing her hand against her skirt. “What made you change the policy on local grants?”

“I didn’t,” he said abruptly. “Just provided - clarification around eligibility.”

Belle took a step forward, until she was almost touching the desk.

“Well, that clarification should mean I won’t be closing the library doors this year,” she said. “Lucky for me, hmm?”

“Surprising as it may seem,” he remarked. “I do actually take into account the views of interested parties when making decisions. Where I can.”

“Hmm.” Belle leaned on the desk, pursing her lips. “Well, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I don’t like losing my temper and I try not to if I can help it.”

There was a tiny, amused grin on his face.

“A pity,” he said. “It was rather refreshing.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t all that satisfying from my perspective,” she said. “Dealing with politicians is making me more cynical than I’d like to be.”

He gave her a twisted little smile.

“Well, that’s no bad thing,” he said. “The moment you start wanting to be cynical it’s probably time to run screaming for the hills.”

“At nine this morning I almost did run screaming,” she admitted, and he chuckled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “I enjoyed your presentation. It was delivered with your usual passion, and I think you may have brought some of the others on board.”

“I think Sir George King would rather I’d stayed at home,” she said, and Sutherland shrugged.

“If it was up to him we wouldn’t spend any money at all,” he said. “On the whole, today went rather well, I thought. No physical blows were exchanged, and there was almost no profanity. One of the more sedate policy meetings I’ve attended, truth be told.”

Belle smiled.

“We’re all here for the common good, I suppose,” she said. “Although in some cases I’m not sure how much common good they’re really interested in doing.”

“First rule of policy-making,” he said. “Try not to kill off half your contributors in a fit of righteous anger. Tempting though it is.”

“Hmm.” She was amused. “I don’t remember reading that one in the welcome pack.”

“Unwritten rule,” he corrected, raising a finger. “I think the pack said some bollocks about understanding motivation and managing expectations.”

Belle bit back a grin.

“I guess I’m not cut out for a career in diplomacy,” she said, and he smiled.

“Gets easier the more you do it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thank goodness you’ll believe one thing that comes out of my mouth.”

It was said in a dry tone, but he was still grinning, and she returned the smile. There was a moment of silence, and he pushed up from the desk, crossing to the dresser.

“I was going to have a drink,” he said. “May I offer you one? There’s whisky, port, brandy… If that’s not to your taste I could easily have something brought in.”

“Uh - okay.” Belle was beginning to feel as though she had stepped into a strange parallel universe, where small town librarians sat and drank with the leaders of nations as a matter of course. “Thank you. I’ll take a brandy.”

“Excellent choice,” he said vaguely, and opened one of the doors of the dresser, taking out two brandy glasses.

Belle watched as he reached for one of the decanters and poured two small measures. His suit pants fitted him very well, skimming his rear as he moved. She shook her head, telling herself to stop ogling the man. Sutherland turned, glasses in hand, and nodded towards the armchairs.

“Take a seat,” he said.

Still feeling as though she was dreaming, Belle took the glass he held out and sat down, crossing her legs and watching as he put down his glass and lowered himself into the seat opposite. She took a sip of her brandy to take her mind off how good he looked, and how much better he might look if he lost the tie and unfastened the first few buttons of that crisp white shirt. The brandy was very good, far better than she was used to, and she licked her lips, enjoying the taste of caramel and spice and the pleasant heat on her tongue. Sutherland took a drink, sucking in his cheeks and setting down his glass on the coffee table. He looked tired.

“Are your work days usually this long?” she asked, and his eyebrows flicked upwards.

“It’s barely six-thirty,” he said. “I still have a few hours left in me.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a work-life balance,” she observed. Sutherland pulled a face.

“Gets a little quieter at recess, but no, I don’t suppose it is,” he said.

“Are you married?” she asked, and Sutherland shook his head.

“Divorced.”

“Oh,” said Belle. “I’m sorry.”

“No no, it’s fine,” he said, sitting back. “It was amicable. We’re still friends.”

“Oh.”

“She’s engaged to a High Court judge now,” he added. “I wish her every happiness.”

“Oh.” For God’s sake, Belle, say something intelligent. “You have kids?”

“A daughter,” he said. “Grown up now. Early twenties.”

“Oh.”

Sutherland took a drink, seeming to savour the taste of brandy on his tongue before swallowing. His gaze was steady, his eyes dark, and she could feel faint stirrings of desire in her lower abdomen. She looked down into her brandy glass, watching the ripples in the amber liquid and telling herself to snap out of her crush.

“What about you?” he asked then, making her look up. “You married? Children?”

“You mean you didn’t have me checked out?” she asked dryly, and he shrugged.

“Maybe you’re good at hiding things,” he said. “Or, as is more likely, Anna told me and I forgot about it.”

Belle bit back a smile.

“Well, hiding a husband and children would be beyond me,” she said. “Luckily I have no need. No family. Well, there’s my dad back in Melbourne, but apart from that I’m on my own.”

“No large, intimidating boyfriend?” he asked. “Or maybe a girlfriend, what do I know?”

“Neither,” she said. “Last relationship was pretty crappy, to be honest. Made me want to take a break for a while.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I understand.”

“I thought you said you were on good terms with your ex.”

“Well…” He waved a hand. “I vaguely remember what it was like to be young. Aeons ago.”

She scoffed.

“Come on, you’re not that old.”

“Bloody feels like it, sometimes,” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s what comes from running the country,” she said pertly. “It’s why I stick to running a library.”

“No doubt that comes with its own stresses.”

“Only when I’m threatened with closure by arrogant, shortsighted politicians,” she quipped, and he snorted in amusement.

“Well, thank fuck there aren’t many of those around.”

Belle giggled before catching herself, and he was grinning as he leaned further back in his chair. His eyes gleamed when he smiled, and she couldn’t decide whether it was more or less arousing than when he was angry. A dangerous path for your thoughts to take, Belle.

“Did you say your daughter was in her twenties?” she said, trying to steer the conversation onto a safe topic. “Is she at university?”

“No no, she’s finished studying,” he said. “She’s started work in the City. Not in politics, thank God.”

“You wouldn’t want her to go into politics?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t think she’d be happy,” he said. “It can be a lonely, painful existence, and you make as many enemies as friends. Probably more, if I’m honest. She has a gentle heart, and I wouldn’t want to see her harden it to survive.”

“It seems a shame that people have to,” said Belle. “I think politicians could stand to be more compassionate, not less.”

Sutherland took another sip of his drink, eyeing her as he licked an amber bead of brandy from his lower lip.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “Alas, we have to deal with the world as it is, not as we might want it to be.”

“So why did you decide it was what you wanted to do?” she asked. “Did you always want to end up running the country?”

“No, I can’t say it was a childhood dream,” he admitted. “I started out as a barrister. The politician wasn’t born until I was in my late thirties.”

“So why politics?” she asked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t for the money.”

Sutherland pulled a wry face, taking another drink.

“I was earning more at the bar, certainly,” he said. “Far better work-life balance, as well.”

“Ego, then?” she suggested, and he grinned.

“That was certainly part of it.”

Belle waited, and he sighed, turning the brandy glass between his hands.

“Would you believe me if I said I thought I could make things better?” he asked.

“My new-found cynicism wouldn’t,” she remarked, and he chuckled.

“To the tragic death of innocence.”

He raised his glass in a mock toast, and Belle grinned, raising her own before sipping her brandy. The drink was almost gone, and she found herself regretting having drunk it so quickly. She would have to leave as soon as it was done, and to her great surprise she was enjoying their conversation.

“Do you think you have?” she asked. “Made things better?”

Sutherland hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers.

“I suppose it’s a work in progress,” he said. “But I’m trying. Perhaps not in the ways you would want me to.”

“I don’t suppose what I think matters,” she said, and he shook his head.

“You might be surprised at what matters to me, Miss French.”

He took another sip of his brandy, his eyes fixed on hers, and she could feel herself shiver. She drained her glass, setting it down on the table with a loud clink.

“Well,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I should go. I feel as though I’ve been wrung dry and turned inside out, and I could really use some sleep before I have to do it all again tomorrow.”

He smiled at that, setting his glass beside hers.

“In that case, I’ll show you out. Anna will expect me to have read those papers by the time she gets back.”

“She seems very committed to her job,” observed Belle, and he grinned.

“Couldn’t do my own without her,” he said. “I need someone to keep me in line.”

“I won’t argue with that,” she remarked, and he chuckled, a deep laugh that made her belly clench.

“I can see why she likes you,” he said, and strode to the door, opening it up and nodding to the Special Branch officers outside. “Good evening, Miss French. It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

Belle nodded, slipping from the room and heading back along the corridor. A smiling woman with a dark ponytail and a brisk manner showed her out, and she stepped into the street with a sigh of relief. The press pack had gone, and she walked down towards the gates, smiling thanks to the police officer that let her out into the street beyond. It had been a long day, there was another to come, and her crush on the Prime Minister was developing into full-blown lust.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #32

Orion Amari x MC

Word Count: ~ 3.300

_________________________________________

Chapter 32: The Final Step

Orion was glad when the light that was filtering into their dormitory gradually got lighter as the beginning of the day crept up on them. Different than usual, he had been sleeping uneasily for the whole night, and not at all for the last hour or so. He had been going over all the necessary statistics Murphy had drilled into him, trying to remember their most important strategic points for the day. He was wondering if they were as prepared as they should be.

When he had woken from his turbulent dreams, Orion had known immediately that he wouldn’t go back to sleep anytime soon; he had tried calming his mind with deep, steady breaths but like he had expected, it had been a futile attempt; his nerves were bubbling under his skin when he thought of what awaited him today. The energy vibrating inside him made him eager to get up, the first traces of adrenaline already flooding his body.

He could hear Everett tossing and turning on the other side of the room, quietly swearing and impatiently fluffing his pillow every now and again. Orion made no move to signal his teammate that he was awake as well. Ever since their confrontation on the day after the Slytherin match they had spoken even less than before, but it wasn’t like Orion minded much. Despite them having shared a dorm for six years now, he and Everett had never been able to form a real connection.

But still, Orion hadn’t forgotten how he had felt himself on the day of his first final, back when he had been the new kid on the team. He had been in a terrified state for most of the day until the game had begun. Even after playing for so many years, he still felt unusually agitated before the last match of the season; imagining how nervous Everett must feel right now, Orion felt a touch of sympathy for him. All of the showing off and aggressiveness was merely hiding a deep insecurity and wish for appreciation, and Everett knew that Orion could see behind his facade.

When it was finally bright enough to get up without raising questions, Orion reached over to his nightstand and picked up his favourite picture of their team. Putting it into the pocket of his coat, he quietly left his dorm and the Common Room behind and made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. He usually preferred the pitch to focus his thoughts but he didn’t feel in the right mindset for it yet; he wanted to be calm and centred when entering it for the first time that day.

The sun was just starting to show on the edge of the horizon when he reached the top of the spiral staircase. Orion couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d been up here outside of Astronomy classes. Just as he had anticipated, the memory of him and Lizzie started crashing in on him as he walked to the edge of the parapet to watch the sunrise. He wished he could have shown her the beauty of the place as it was basked in the first rays of the rising sun; everything looked so different in the light of a new day. A melancholy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; but then again, so did everything.

He reached into his pocket and drew out the picture he had taken with him. It was the same picture most of them were keeping on their nightstands; it had been taken at the end of last season, to capture the team that had remained unchanged for so long, before their old Beater had graduated and left her position open for Everett to fill.

With the golden light of the sun washing over him, he thought about how their team had changed over the course of the year. It was something he did every time before their final match of the season, no matter if they were trying for the Cup or not. This year, their journey had been more turbulent than ever before. Like a pendulum, their harmony had swayed from balanced to non-existent in a constant up and down of emotions.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty at being partly to blame for this discontinuity. The feelings he had developed towards Lizzie had been a catalyst for many of the changes his team had had to endure. But despite the obstacles lining their way, they had come out on top, ready to take the final step towards their goal. Smiling fondly at the picture of what he considered his family, Orion felt overwhelmingly proud of what they had achieved. It had shown once again; with enough trust in themselves, everything had fallen into place in the end.

When the sun was fully up and the sky started changing from pink to a light blue, Orion made his way down from the tower. The castle was still mostly dormant, but when he arrived at the Great Hall, there were already some students sitting at their House tables and enjoying their breakfast.

Judith was already there, of course; much like him, the dark skinned Hufflepuff Beater was a dedicated early riser. She was sitting at the mostly deserted Ravenclaw table with her boyfriend, both of them engaged in a quiet conversation. Orion was more surprised to see Lizzie and Skye sitting a bit further ahead at the Hufflepuff table; both of his fellow Chasers were known for enjoying sleeping in. But then again, they were probably just as anxious as he was. Lizzie was rapidly bouncing her foot while she was stirring her tea to an extent that her whole frame seemed to be shaking; the nervous energy she was radiating was palpable and rubbing off on Orion by simply looking at her.

Skye, on the other hand, was unusually pale and had her lips pressed tightly together. Orion’s brow furrowed for a short moment; he had heard people talking about Ethan Parkin wanting to attend their match and he knew how much her father’s approval meant to Skye. He just hoped that she and Lizzie would be able to set aside their worries and find the balanced state of mind they would need to succeed.

The morning was dragging on a lot more slowly than Orion would have liked. There wasn’t much talk between the members of the Hufflepuff team; everyone was busy coping with their nerves in their own ways. Lizzie surrounded herself with her friends and other girls from her year; Orion knew listening to their chatter was her way of keeping her thoughts off the impending match. Skye joined them for a time before she quietly left the Common Room to meet her father.

Others, like Judith, preferred isolating themselves and their thoughts from fans and well-wishers by meditating in a quiet place on their own. Orion wished he could have done the same but as the team’s captain it was his responsibility to make sure everything and everyone was properly prepared. He wasn’t concerned about his seasoned teammates; although everyone was nervous, he knew all of them would come through. The only one truly worrying him was Everett.

He had noticed the change in his behaviour immediately after returning to the Common Room after breakfast. Everett had never been a particularly pleasant person, but his bad mood had reached a new level today. He was constantly moving from one place to the other, none suitable for him to relax, snarling at everyone crossing his way. His demeanour was anything but the calm and collected state of mind Orion preferred on his teammates.

When Orion approached him, Everett looked up warily. “What do you want, Amari?”

His tone was openly hostile but Orion chose to ignore it. Not even Everett would make him lose his focus now; there was too much for them at stake today. Instead, Orion met his gaze calmly.

“How are you feeling?”

Not having expected his sincere interest, Everett only blinked at him. The snarky comment that was undoubtedly resting on the tip of his tongue made way for a confused look on his face.

“What?”

Orion inclined his head slightly. “You do not seem to be in a balanced state of mind today.”

This time, Everett couldn’t hide the rolling of his eyes, nor did he try to. “Spare me your balance nonsense,” he scoffed.

He got up from his seat and tried to shoulder past him, but Orion was having none of it. He got hold of Everett’s shoulder with a strong grip, the intensity of which clearly surprised the Beater. If one member of the team was unbalanced, all of them were; Orion was determined to make him listen.

“We’ve never been friends, you and I, and I acknowledge that sometimes people are too different to form a connection on a common ground,” Orion began and Everett grunted in confirmation; at least in this point they had the same opinion.

“But I remember my first season finale,” Orion continued regardless. “It was back in our second year and I was terrified. The final match of the season is the highlight of our year, the pinnacle of everything we have worked for; being afraid to not close this chapter of our journey in a satisfying way is something that scares me every year over and over again and there is no shame in admitting so.”

When he felt that Everett was actually listening, he let go of him. Both moved instinctively away from each other, even if only for the slightest bit. It was true, they had never been more than roommates and would probably never be anything resembling friends, but this was not the point.

“As the captain of our team, I see it as my duty to give out advice when I feel one of ours is in need of it,” Orion said levelly. “I see that you are struggling and trying to mask it with anger; this will neither help you nor our team. Fear and rage weigh us down where we need to be unburdened to fly. But with the right mindset, overcoming your emotions will provide you with the strength to give it your all; I expect nothing more or less from everyone today. So embrace your imbalance until it settles and let your nerves drive you towards your goal, instead of letting them distract you from it.”

Everett stared at him as he tried to extract the information from Orion’s words; sometimes Orion forgot not everyone was catching on to his meaning as quickly as Murphy or Lizzie did.

“Why are you trying to help me?” Everett eventually asked sceptically. “You said it yourself, we’re not even friends.”

“Today, personal grievances don’t matter,” Orion answered. “We are part of a unit, small gears attuned to the same machinery. If we want to succeed, we must put ourselves aside and become the team we need to be.” He took a step back and made to turn around. “You may want to think about it.”

*

His own words were still echoing in Orion’s ears as both contenders for the Cup made their ways down to the Quidditch pitch after an early lunch. It was still quite some time before the stands would be starting to fill with excited students but Orion could already feel the apprehension hanging heavy in the air as they trudged down the familiar path towards the stadium.

The collective nervousness radiating off both teams was tangible and the hot summer air heavy with their silence. None of his teammates was speaking, everyone caught up in their own thoughts, blind to the beautiful day surrounding them. Even Orion himself couldn’t appreciate the warmth of the sun upon his skin for its beauty itself; instead, he was thinking about how to adapt their strategy should they be forced to play against the sunlight.

Judging from the tensed shoulders and heavy steps of the Gryffindor team walking ahead of them, they weren’t feeling any better. The strained atmosphere didn’t do much to calm Orion’s nerves but he knew his focus would return once they were up in the air, the one place where he felt truly free, all doubts and musings forgotten. So far, peace had never failed to come to him, once his feet had left the ground.

***

Lizzie was absentmindedly playing with the buckles of her Quidditch gloves while she was watching Orion conducting their last moment of vivification for the year. She tried to keep track of his complicated analogies but found herself not really listening.

Over the years, Orion’s speeches had become part of Lizzie’s way to cope with her nerves, giving her mind something to focus on when the kick-off was painstakingly close. But today, for the first time really, Lizzie found that his words didn’t reach her. Instead, the rumbling sound of the crowd waiting for them combined with the raw energy pulsing through her veins was distracting her. She tried shaking it off and giving their moment of vivification the proper attention, but felt her focus slipping once again as she noticed how well the deep yellow of Orion’s Quidditch robes complemented his olive skin and dark hair.

With a sigh, she leaned back against one of the wooden posts supporting the tent and concentrated on the blackboard in Orion’s back. If she couldn’t bring herself to listen to him, she might as well have a last look at their strategy. Out of habit, her hand twitched to her neck where her pendant was resting underneath her robes. They were supposed to take any jewellery off but Lizzie was so used to the feel of the stone resting against her skin, not wearing it felt strange to her.

When Skye suddenly jumped up next to her to rally up their teammates one last time, Lizzie was violently broken out of her musings; she hadn’t even noticed Orion’s speech had ended.

“Alright lads, you heard the captain,” Skye shouted and clapped her gloved hands together, “This is our moment, our time to take back what is ours! Let’s get out there and show those lions the ropes! We’re one team!”

“One team!” Lizzie chimed in with the others, the joined cheer helping her focus on what mattered.

The tent now bursting with energy, everyone grabbed their brooms and headed towards the exit of the tent; the roaring of the crowd grew louder as the tent flap was drawn back and one after the other filed out into the bright sunlight.

Lizzie, Orion and Skye were the last ones to leave the changing room, when Lizzie suddenly tripped and stumbled into Skye; looking down, she noticed the lacing of her boot had come undone. She leaned her Comet against a locker and bent down to re-tie it. As she leaned forward, she felt her necklace slipping out from under her robes but before she could catch it, Skye had already noticed it.

She raised an eyebrow at Lizzie reproachfully. “You know the rules, Jameson; no jewellery allowed. Hooch’ll be getting all iffy about it if she sees that; better take it off while you got the chance.”

She turned around and followed their teammates outside; with her gone, only Lizzie and Orion remained behind.

Trying to ignore Orion’s curious look, Lizzie was trying to get her gloves off as quickly as she could. But she had difficulties opening the buckles on her arm protection and the quicker she tried to get them open, the more she was struggling.

“How did you like my speech?”

Lizzie didn’t look up as Orion walked up to her; suddenly, she was even more busy fiddling with her gloves. She felt herself blush at his question, though; she didn’t have the slightest idea what the speech had even been about.

“It was good,” she mumbled evasively, trying not to lose her face. “I feel thoroughly vivified.”

“Really?” he smirked. “I had the impression your mind was elsewhere, Chaser. But don’t worry,” he laughed at her guilty expression, “while I do try to speak out of the moment, even I have to admit that this was one of my weaker speeches.”

The smile on his face turned hesitant, but the warmth in his eyes lingered as they dropped to her necklace for a moment. “May I help you?”

Lizzie paused for a moment, feeling the same uncertainty that she could see shining in Orion’s eyes. But after a moment, she turned her back to him and moved her hair out of the way. She could feel the tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck and couldn’t help the pleasant shiver running up and down her spine. She knew he could see the goosebumps spreading on her skin but was glad he chose not to comment on it. When Orion bent his head a little in concentration, she could feel his breath against her skin, making her acutely aware of just how close he was.

Before the feeling became too overwhelming, however, the clasp of her necklace came undone and Orion took a step back; Lizzie instantly missed his presence.

“I’m surprised you’re still wearing it,” he commented as he walked around her and held the delicate golden necklace out for her to take.

Lizzie took it from him and let it run through her fingers. “Someone told me these stones have to be kept close for them to do their magic,” she replied with the faintest of smiles. Not quite knowing what to do with it, she wound the chain around her finger before untangling it again.

Orion watched her play with the pendant and a soft smirk formed on his face. “I thought you didn’t believe in Astrology.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at him but at the yellow topaz glittering in the palm of her hand; she was smiling fondly, nevertheless. “I don’t; but I do believe in how I feel about this particular stone,” she said so quietly, it was barely audible above the increasing roar of the crowd.

Unsurprisingly, Orion heard her anyway.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you in on a little secret of mine,” he told her, eyes suddenly sparkling mischievously. He smiled at her surprised face as he quickly undid the buckles on his right arm protection, much quicker than when Lizzie had tried and failed to do the same, and pushed back the sleeve of his robes. Her smile turned into a little laugh as her eyes fell onto Orion’s own necklace being wrapped several times around his wrist.

“That’s against the rules, Captain,” she chuckled.

“We don’t have to play by all the rules, do we?” he grinned back at her. He nodded towards her hand. “Come on, take your glove off.”

With his assistance, Lizzie undid the buckles and pulled the arm protection off. Rolling up her sleeve, Orion wrapped the chain of her necklace around her right wrist twice, making sure the pendant didn’t fall into her palm where it would distract her.

“Try it, how does it feel?”

Lizzie flexed her wrist a few times; she didn’t feel obstructed at all. Her small topaz was resting against her pulse, where the extended beat of her heart was visible. Feeling her nerves subside at the view, she smiled at Orion. “I feel perfect, Captain; thank you.”

Orion took her hand and covered the topaz with his other, their eyes locking for a moment. “Then I’m sure, there is nothing that can stop you, Chaser.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to reply but Skye’s voice calling over to them from the entrance had them quickly step away from each other.

“You guys coming or not? It’s time to win a bloody Cup!”

[anomalisticofferings]

When the news of Miura's death was made public, it felt shocking and paralyzing to me, and made me feel down. It was two weeks since I started working, and I just didn't have the time to really think about it and to process it. That day, I cried what little I could in the car on my way to my job, and during the day I couldn't help that it crossed my mind several times. Since then, I've been trying to complete a Berserk-based playlist I began on late May, as a way to face it and to settle it down, re-reading some few chapters, trying to be the most faithful to what this beautiful and bittersweet story told me lyrically and musically. I found Puma Blue's last album In Praise of Shadows, a mixture of mainly hypnagogic pop, indie, lo-fi, and some blues & jazz, to be very suitable and relatable as for the more tender and painful moments. Also, I read lots of posts and saw lots of commemorative fanarts from the fanbase, here on Tumblr and on SkullKnight.net too. The posts in which these scenes were shared seemed particularly appealing to me:

And:

Why? Because I think they perfectly depict a crossroad, a kind of situation in which most of the main and secondary characters in Berserk were put in at some point of the story. These situations were some of the most painful to them, since the two poles of the dilemma were radically opposed. Situations in which they were forced to change paths after years walking the same road, or to build new ones: 1) To accept the end of the Band of the Hawk and rebuild their lives; or to maintain the aching, living corpse of a virtually dead dream. 2) To continue Griffith's bloodstained path, sacrificing everything and losing his humanity in order to achieve his dream; or to perish in its ruins, with all of those who would then have meaninglessly given their lives for it. 3) To run away from Jill's deplorable situation with a complete stranger, or to become able to face and fight in her own battlefield. 4) To continue Guts' lonely, revenge-driven path, destroying himself in the process; or to cope with the loss of that which, for the first time, gave meaning to his life, caring to protect the little that was left. 5) To continue upholding Farnese's crumbling faith and inquisitor persona, or to overcome her fear to the reality of the (Berserk's) world, becoming a new and stronger person in the process. 6) To cope with the death of Flora, of the sunshine-bathed tranquillity at the Mansion of the Spirit Tree, and with the violence and disgust of the outside world along with Guts' crew, becoming a stronger witch and person; or to forever grieve for the loss of the very little world you ever knew, to continue keeping it all to yourself, being arrogant still towards everyone who doesn't immediately understand or share your ways. 7) (Hypothetically) To accept the hardness of Casca's mental recovery process, and the necessary distancing between her and Guts, now that they're effectively reunited after so much pain and struggling; or to face that which causality was in ways of making converge, as said by the Skull Knight in chapter 361, most likely something ominous related to the Moonlight Boy/NeoGriffith's presence in Elfhelm. These dilemmas were some that changed, re-shaped and forged the core personality of those characters. They made their changes profound and meaningful, since they radically challenged their way of being up to that point, making them face their new, cruel reality, instead of just making them question minor aspects of their personas. Having said that, what really sums up Berserk for me, and that which inspires me the most, are these panels (I even have a tattoo of the first one in my left forearm):

Finally, I hope everyone is doing ok. R.I.P. Miura.

[yuzusorbet]

Continuing Kikuchi-san's book 'Strongly, beautifully,....'

If you have not read the earlier parts, please read them first.  See my previous posts in tumblr, OR the master post on FB.  

Chapter 2, parts 3 and 4 and 5: the relaxed athlete and the anxious trainer at Sochi  (t/n. this is my own summarised title of the 3 parts) (For these parts, I summarised or left out some sentences that are not so important to the main storyline.)

At Sochi Olympics, Yuzuru was in the team event and the singles event. 

That child had just turned 19, there was no pressure, and he did not know fear.  My job was to instruct and assist him for the warm-up.  And also, icing and body care after the performance.

Just like how choreography and costumes were clearly separated and taken care of by different people, taking care of the skater's body was the trainer's job.  Coach Brian did not give me any concrete instructions and he did not say anything about Yuzuru's warm-up.  I also did not interfere with figure skating techniques.  Anyway, I could not give any advice for that.  It was only my 4th time watching it at the venue.  And only my 2nd time at an overseas competition.

Even so, I could feel the enormity of the Olympics.  I felt the pressure of this huge stage.  I saw it in the faces of the athletes.  However, Yuzuru did not seem to feel much pressure.  He looked quite relaxed.

-------------------

The Sochi Olympics that Yuzuru faced in a relaxed manner, for me it was a series of big failures.

Firstly, when I made the warm-up plan for Sochi, I used Patrick Chan's methods as reference, but it was totally not suitable for Yuzuru.  Before official practice, he tried the warm-up programme that I had planned, and he became short of breath.  The reason is simple: there was too big a difference in stamina between Patrick Chan and Yuzuru at that time.  I realised that the warm-up which was effective for Patrick who was full of stamina, could not be used at all by Yuzuru.

Right up to the team event competition, I was discussing with Yuzuru and hurriedly making a new warm-up plan;  it was extremely poor support.

Speaking of poor support, the sports tape that is like the tool of my trade, became insufficient;  this is such a big mistake that if I were to be disqualified as a trainer because of this, I have nothing to say.  Normally, Yuzuru practised once a day.  But at Sochi, he skated at the rink twice a day.  Each time he wore his skate boots, the taping would be done again.  With more practice sessions, the tape I brought from Japan was  quickly used up.

To buy the tape, I ran around the streets of Sochi.  I was looking for medical shops or sports shops but the signs were all in Russian and could not be quickly understood.  I went into shops that looked like they would sell tape but I could not convey "please give me sports tape".   I used English and gestures, and somehow managed to buy some tape, but still the amount was not enough.

That kind of farce probably reached the ears of the Japan Skate Federation people.  "We will get the tape, so (you can focus on) supporting the athlete please."

I should have discussed with JSF staff right from the start.  I was too anxious and totally unable to see what was around me.

----------------

An important duty of the trainer is to get the skater's mental state ready. However, at Sochi, I kept disturbing Yuzuru's state of mind.  My biggest mistake was on the morning of the free skate.   For the short programme on the previous day, he had successfully made all the jumps and achieved a world record score of 101.45.  He was in first place.   Next, the free skate was coming up.

Official practice for the free skate was at 10am.  Considering the warm-up time needed, we would leave the Athletes' Village at 8am.  Before that, taping was needed, so I would have to go to Yuzuru's room at 7.30am.

However, Yuzuru's performance for the SP was too perfect and when I thought about the FS coming up, my heart started pounding.....  I could neither sit nor stand, and in the end, I left my room.  I reached Yuzuru's room 40 minutes ahead of time.

"Oh~, sensei, what's the matter?  You're very early," he said.

"I want to do a good job (with the taping) so I came over earlier," I made an excuse like that.  Frankly speaking, my usual self was already lost.

After the SP, there was a press conference which ended late.  By the time Yuzuru was back in his room, it was middle of the night, past 1am.  I should have let him rest a bit more, but I said, "Alright, let's do the taping."

"Eh? Now??"

My self of that moment paid no attention.  "What to do, what to do," I was panicking by myself and becoming flustered.

Yuzuru was trying his best to maintain his normal state of mind, so that he would not be swallowed up by the Olympic demon, that is, the atmosphere that prevents one from showing his usual abilities.  His trainer who was supposed to be his ally, was actively being an obstacle to his efforts.  I do not think that my actions gave him any good influence at all.  In any case, my self at Sochi Olympics had lost all common sense.

------------- Translated by me from Japanese book by Akira Kikuchi-san: https://www.amazon.co.jp

(next: last parts of chapter 2, coming soon)

[rosevanhelsing]

Wendigo

Chapter 15

Vic threw herself into Maggie's arms, sobbing.

- Oh, Maggie, how can you be alive? I will take you back with me

- No, Vic, I'm dead. The Night Road is an inscape but in the statics of the world of thought, some call it “the White”, there are ghosts. They are souls that have been "trapped" between two worlds, the real one and the Afterlife. Some of us may stay here temporarily, especially if we have something unfinished.

- Some of us. You mean creative souls?

- Exactly.

- But why did you decide to stay?

- For you, Brat. To protect you from the Wendigo. Now listen to me, do you remember when we fought Charlie together?

- Yes

- Well, that's the way to fight the Wendigo. You and Charlie must attract him to your terrain, be it the Shortcut or Christmasland, so that you can finish him off by collaborating together

- What exactly is the Wendigo?

- An undeveloped creative soul.

- Not developed?

-Perhaps he never found a suitable "knife" or his power was not awakened. He could only glimpse the landscape within him through dreams and visions but he never agreed. One day he decided that if he could not be a creative soul, the rest of the creative souls should not exist. Interestingly, he can perceive creative souls, so traveling here and there he located us and now he is killing us.

-But why does he eat the hearts of his victims?

- I do not know. Perhaps you believe that by eating his victims you will be able to acquire his power.

- Jesus…

- Vic, you and I together had the power to beat Charlie because we had a very strong bond. You have to achieve such a bond with Charlie for it to work and catch the Wendigo

 - Maggie, these days I've been looking for clues with Manx, even though I worked well with him and we saved each other's lives, I can't help but hate him. I can't forgive him for killing my father, for trying to kill us both, and for trying to take Wayne from me.

Maggie looked at her fondly

- I know it's difficult, Brat. But if you want to defeat the Wendigo, you will have to do it with Manx, because if not James will come for you and if Lou gets in the way to protect you he will kill him too.

- I don't think Charlie is very fond of me. He also hates me and despises me ...

- My tiles have said that you will make it, Brat, and remember that they are never wrong. You'll end up getting you and him to defeat the Wendigo.

-Do your tiles work here?

- Yes, but they don't take anything from me anymore. Vic, you must do something so that the use of the Shortcut does not affect you or you will end ...

Suddenly, Vic fainted into the world of thought and woke up at home. Her head hurt terribly and she had a very high fever. Vic didn't know exactly what was wrong with her  but she suspected that she had to do with her gift and with her remaining strength, she took the candy cane out of her pocket and grabbed it, hoping Charlie would find her and help her know that what happened to her. Lou came in to check if she was still sleeping and saw her curled up and shivering from the chills

- Holy God, Vic. What's wrong with you?,Please,  answer me!

Meanwhile, elsewhere:

Charlie was lounging in his car, snoring softly. In his dreams he was driving down the Night Road in the direction of Parnassus, he needed to talk to Abe. Along the way he stopped when he noticed a huge building that he had never been there before. Manx got out of the car and took the autopsy hammer with him. Manx stared at the place, only a solitary light was visible in one of the upper windows.

Charlie sniffed the air, and concentrated. He did not perceive the Wendigo but he did perceive a presence that was familiar to him and he frowned. Intrigued he entered the building, and like Vic watched his knife through the windows, until he reached the upper landing. He knocked on the door and it opened.

Charlie entered slowly, watching for someone stalking him to attack him, a light was turned on on a table and a voice said:

- You don't have to be on your guard, Mr Manx. Welcome to my Library.

- Miss Leigh?

- The same.

- I should have guessed it was you. I guess your soul must still want to protect Vic McQueen. I'm sure you loved her too. Wow, it must have been very frustrating that she felt nothing for you but friendship ... - Charlie said maliciously

-Look who went to speak, because I'm sure you love Vic too, I would bet until you jerk off several times thinking of her...

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise, he was ofended and furiously, he said:

-I have not had lustful thoughts with her!

-No one would say, considering the kiss you gave her. But now is not the time for us to discuss whether you or I have a crush on Vic or whether we were sexually fantasizing about her. Vic is in danger right now. She was with me a moment ago and she faded, I think her gift is starting to seriously affect her.

- Damn, so she has never known that there was a way to mitigate the effects of our power Didn't you explain it to her?

Suddenly Charlie mentally sensed Vic's call for help, by connecting the candy cane and said:

-Indeed, her gift has endangered her.  It’s consuming her, she's really sick and that idiot Lou Carmody doesn't know what the hell to do.

- Well then, you must solve it

Charlie ran off and once in the Wraith, he hit the gas to the max. Luckily, the place where he had chosen to rest was not far from Vic's new home. Lou had been trying to bring Vic's fever down to no avail. Suddenly the bell rang, when Lou opened it he almost fell on his ass in shock when he saw Charlie Manx at the door.

- I have come to save Vic.- Manx said

[cinnawrites]

The Hunt For The Prince

A/N; Heya!! This is the first chapter to a prompt I’ve wanted to write for forever! I gotta say, fantasy AUs are always the best, so why not make it long? Minor Hades spoilers, specifically about Zagreus’ mother.

Summary: Prince Zagreus, the son of King Hades finds a letter regarding his mother and goes off on a journey to seek her out. His father, enraged by this, sends off Thanatos, a trained assassin, to fetch him. Little does he know, Thanatos may or may not want to find out about Persephone as well.

Zagreus slicked his hair back when he was finally away from his home, hiding behind a tree. He tried to look back to find the castle, but it only seemed like a distant memory. A bittersweet memory he’d say.

He wasn’t supposed to be out here, this far out from the castle, his kingdom. Yet here he was, and he did not regret going against the rules one bit. He would even say he felt relieved, like a huge weight was pulled off his shoulders after sitting there for years. Finally being away from his overbearing father, Hades, and starting a new chapter in his life; the quest for his mother.

Earlier that day, Zagreus had snuck into his father’s bedroom and found a letter regarding the whereabouts of his mother. He knew he had to look for her as soon as he could. He’d gone on for too long wondering where she could have been all these years and now he finally had a vague idea. She was still out there, alive and well, but his father never said anything about her for reasons unknown to him. Zagreus had snuck out of castle grounds for brief moments, but now was the time for him to go on a full out journey.

Zagreus continued pushing through the forest, moving branches out of the way and watching out for any plants he could trip over. He was making his way through an unfamiliar part of the forest surrounding the kingdom so as to not attract too much attention. This also meant there wasn’t a path in sight, he simply had to make his own. It was dead in the night, so no one would notice immediately that he was gone. He wouldn’t have as many traces left behind, which just made everything all the more convenient. It would take ages for people to find him now.

As he continued walking through, he felt a sharp pain in his foot, catching him off guard. He looked down only to see that he had stepped on a particularly thorny branch. Perhaps he should have actually worn shoes for once. He always hated wearing any form of footwear. He brushed off the pain and thorns, looking carefully ahead of and around him. An opening quickly made itself visible, an area in which he could probably rest for the night.

Zagreus settled himself down in one spot, ridding it of branches and leaves. He didn’t bring much other than his sword, Stygius, which was probably the biggest mistake he could have made. There was a village nearby, Tartarus, so he could easily get supplies from there. Still, Zagreus was feeling a bit hungry. He made a note to find Tartarus as soon as possible.

He leaned back onto a tree, trying to get himself comfortable enough to sleep. He had no idea what time it was, all he knew was that he needed some rest. After a while, he finally found a position in which he felt comfortable in and drifted off to sleep.

Zagreus woke up the next morning feeling less refreshed than he would if he were at home. He didn’t think it would be this bad sleeping outside, but he made sure he would get used to it. Even if the nights would be rough, it wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goal. 

He got up and stretched, feeling a bit sore. He picked up his sword, keeping it close to him. Who knows what could happen, right? Zagreus reached into his pocket and read the letter his mother had sent to him once more, just to refresh her words in his mind.

“Hades,” The letter read, “I can no longer tolerate my life here in this place. So, I am leaving, even if it kills me. I won’t be returning to Olympus. If there is a place I belong in this world, it must be somewhere between heaven and hell. Perhaps it’s on the coast and has a little garden. Take care of Cerberus, I shall miss him.”

“Oh mother,” Zagreus said aloud, sighing heavily, “I wonder what was so terrible at home that made you want to leave…”

He began walking through the first yet again, this time making it much further than he expected. He was also out, almost away from everyone, and certainly closer to Tartarus. He began to think back about the house, about the people he’s run away from, and tried to find a reason as to why his mother left. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Back at Hades’ castle, Dusa, the family’s personal maid, was doing her rounds cleaning up. She had just finished dusting off the windows, which was only a minimal chore compared to all her other ones. She wasn’t tired at all though, a good day of work was always this long.

Her next chore was to clean Zagreus’ room, though he hates it when she tries to clean up after him. 

“Maybe he’ll let me in this time,” Dusa said to herself, smiling. She always hoped to get closer to him, and this was the first step.

She knocked on his bedroom door lightly, ignoring how freakishly tall it was. No one answered. Dusa waited a few more moments before knocking once more. Even if he didn’t want her to come in and clean, he would still say something. Anything, really. Maybe even greet her before pushing her away. 

She waited and waited, but Zagreus didn’t say a word.

“Prince Zagreus?” She asked, knocking harder this time. She began to get worried, why wasn’t he answering? It wasn’t like him to sleep in either, she feared the worst. She quietly let herself in, only to find a messy room, with no Zagreus in sight.

He was gone. Completely gone. 

She looked around frantically in search of a note, or anything to lead to his whereabouts. Despite the mess, there didn’t seem to be any hints about where Zagreus could have gone.

“Prince Zagreus? Where are you?” She called out once more, though it was pointless. If he had gone out for the day, she would have been informed. He would’ve greeted her on his way out; he always did. The silence in the castle was deafening and Dusa couldn’t take it anymore.

She ran over to the king’s throne room, frantic. Dusa was afraid of how he would react to the situation, but she needed to tell him. She didn’t have any other choice. She was allowed entry by the guards after briefly explaining the situation. Hades looked up at her, not very pleased.

“Lord Hades!” Dusa said, out of breath, “The prince he’s-!”

“You are supposed to be working,” Hades cut her off.

“I know I should be, but it’s about Zagreus he’s-” Dusa took a deep breath, swallowing her fear of the king, “He’s gone! He isn’t in the castle and I can only fear the worst!”

“He’s what?” Hades got up from his throne, practically fuming. He walked past Dusa, exiting the throne room and making his way to his bedroom. His steps were fast and heavy, he was getting more and more aggravated. He had an idea of what Zagreus would have done, but he surely hoped it wasn’t the case.

Hades looked into the drawer at his bedside table in hopes that his most precious item would still be there. Alas, the letter, her letter, was gone.

Zagreus had taken it.

And he was looking for her.

For Persephone.

Hades was enraged beyond belief, his simple gaze managing to scare the guards and others in sight. He looked around for the boy, even though he was sure he was on his way to look for her. 

Hades thought about what he could do. He couldn’t just leave the kingdom unattended and go off to look for his son. He couldn’t ask just about anyone to retrieve him. He only had one option left to his disposal.

“I never thought it would come to this, but we need him. He’s the only one suitable for this kind of job,” Hades said to the top guards. They seemed confused, looking over to each other several times.

“Who, my lord?” One of them asked.

Hades smiled, a rare sight for anyone in the kingdom to ever witness, before saying;

“Thanatos.”

[date posted; 07.02.21]

[silverhandy]

I saw the devil (in me) - chapter 3

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I ao3

    The door to his hotel room closed with a hum and a soft click of an automatic lock. This time, he did take the cab, walking back would give him way too much time to really think about what Misty had said. It made Takemura feel like a coward, running away from her like that, but he couldn't help it. If he stayed there any longer, he’d fall apart. Right in front of her, all the pieces he’s been so desperate to hold together for the last few months would disassemble and there’d be nobody to pick him back up.

    Takemura threw the heavy wool coat onto the still pristine bed, the impact creating a small sea of wrinkles on the otherwise perfectly straightened linen. The hotel he chose was no Konpeki Plaza, but it was still far from the sleazy, off the road (and off the radar) motels he had a chance to familiarize himself with during his last stay in Night City. The room, with its generic, yet tasteful decor remained perfectly impersonal, walls devoid of any stains, no blood or other fluids on the dark carpet, fresh towels handcrafted into fantastical shapes neatly tucked on the bed. The only thing that made it feel lived in was a fainting fragrance of cologne, left behind by the previous guest.

    Takemura paced around the room for a few minutes before finally setting himself on the chair in the corner of the room. Whatever he was hoping he’d achieve by going to V’s funeral, he didn’t feel it. The guilt was still there. Just a few months ago he was so convinced that he’d be able to offer her an alternative, one that so few of this world could even dream of having access to, and she declined. He didn’t understand it then, but he did now. Strangely, this realization gave way to a different thought, one that he’d been trying to push as far back into his minds as possible, with little success. It wasn’t only V that Arasaka has failed. For the first time in his life, Takemura almost felt like Arasaka had also failed him.

    He couldn't really blame the company for not having the tech that is yet to be created, or for doctors and scientists who’d only sight and shake their heads. Those six months ago it finally hit him that even Arasaka has its limits, despite their far-fetched attempts to prove otherwise. What he didn’t understand was the way he was so decisively removed from the inner circle of the Arasaka family, transferred to a city almost 700km away from Tokyo, and given a job that he wasn’t suitable to do, his knowledge steaming from experience and practice. After all, he was a soldier, not a clerk. All he wanted was to continue serving, a modest gratification for the lengths he went to in order to uncover Yorinobu’s plot. V would certainly say that he deserved more. Takemura wouldn’t dare, even within the confines of his own mind.

    After a moment of hesitation, he pulled up his comms. It was stupid. Pointless. Above all, it probably wouldn’t even work, but despite all of that, he still found himself selecting V’s number. Before he knew it, a steady melody of an awaiting call rang in his ears. At least the number hasn’t been disconnected. Yet.

    Takemura didn’t know what he was expecting, exactly. There was nobody to pick up the phone anymore, and yet he was hoping that calling V’s number this one time would make up for all the times he didn't. Takemura let out a deep sigh, gestured to end the call and soon was left with an empty screen with basic contact information. And yet, when he now looked at it, it wasn’t empty at all.

    How on Earth didn’t he notice it before? He checked the date again, unable to believe that for all the time he spent staring at this one specific entry of his long contact list, he didn’t notice this aggressively yellow icon, gleaming next to V’s icon on his interface. Was it even possible that he missed it? What was he doing a little over three months ago, anyway?

    He barely remembered, that period of his life little more than a blur. Should he even open it now? Wouldn't it merely be opening old wounds, ones that even time didn’t seem to heal? After all, Takemura doubted there was anything V could say to him that’d push him from the path he found himself walking. There was no turning back, not when he was nearing the end of it, but he still opened the voice message.

    “Hey Takemura, it’s V. Been a while, huh? You must be back home already, bathing in all that Arasaka glory. Is the local cuisine as good as you remembered? I’m still waiting for you to show me that famed real food of yours. Onigiri with...what was it again? Umeboshi? Hope I’m not butchering the nomenclature too much. Anyway, I came back to Night City, moved in with Judy shortly after. I didn’t want to rush things with her, but considering the circumstances, it just felt right. Did I even tell you about her? Met her on the job and we clicked right away. You’d like her, I’m sure.

    I’ve been doing some small jobs, mostly for friends, in between dodging Viktor like the plague, but, uh...there came a time I couldn’t do either anymore. It was Judy who practically dragged me to his clinic and then the whole carousel I’ve been so desperately running away from started rollin’. Scans, meds, all of that, at first it felt like I was back at the Arasaka clinic, except Viktor actually listened to me and gave me some fuckin’ room. He has me on a cocktail of meds that get me through the day, but honestly...I hate seeing that expression on his face every time I come see him. I know he’s tryin’ to hide it, but between you and me, he’s doing a pretty shit job.

    Anyway, enough of me talkin’...I feel that maybe we didn’t end things on the right foot that time at the clinic. I know you wanted what you think was best for me, but you know what? Despite everything, I feel free. You should try that sometime.”

    The message ended with a beep and Takemura just sat there, eyes fixed on the ground. And then he played it again. And again.

    Halfway through the third, he heard a knock on the door. One quick scan of the people behind it told him it wasn’t housekeeping, so did the urgency apparent in the way his visitors made the door shake slightly with the impact. He stood up and walked to the door, letting the thick carpet muffle his footsteps. Before opening, he grabbed a gun from his coat and tucked it behind his belt, just to be safe.

    Two men stood at the door, a familiar signature written seemingly all over them. Takemura wouldn’t say he was relieved upon seeing them, though. Not at all.

    “Can I help you with something, gentleman?” he asked, switching to Japanese, just for politeness' sake.

    “You are to come with us.” the shorter one said, eyes obscured by the blue-tinted glasses he wore.

    “That is not possible. My flight leaves soon and I am afraid I will miss it if I take any detours.”

    “Takemura-san,” the man said, a hint of a smile appearing on his otherwise expressionless face. “this is not a request. Arasaka-dono wishes to speak with you and I assure you, you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

    He was right. Takemura wouldn’t.

    “Alright then, allow me to just grab my…”

    “That isn’t necessary. We will take care of your luggage.”

    Takemura felt his stomach drop, the same uncomfortable feeling one has when walking down the stairs and missing a step. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but instincts were often hard to fool and the man in front of him didn’t inspire any warm feelings in his heart. Not many people working at Arasaka did, but as long as he stayed in line, he felt safe. Only now, when he had crossed it, he felt how thin it truly was. And how much he’s lost his edge.

    Takemura turned back to grab his coat and put it on, but instead of bringing him comfort, the heavy material felt as if it was bringing him down. Something weird seemed to be happening with his optics too, the image glitching every few steps. He wouldn’t show it, though, walking out of the hotel with his head held high and mind racing to come up with various scenarios of how he should proceed.

    The car was parked right next to the main entrance. One of the men opened its door to let him in, but Takemura stopped abruptly, hit with an all too familiar feeling. His mouth felt dry and he could feel a layer of cold sweat covered his brow. Takemura reached out to steady himself on the doorframe and felt one of Arasaka henchmen lean in behind him, the barrel of a gun digging into his ribs and a hand reaching for Takemura’s own weapon, still tucked behind his belt.

    “Quite a kick, right? Now, let’s not make a scene here.”

    “I thought I was to talk with Arasaka-dono.”

    “You will, but first, let us drive to a more suitable place.”

                                                                ***

    Takemura doubted that an abandoned parking lot in North Oaks is a place suitable for anything, especially a conversation, but at this point, he didn’t have much to say on the matter. Before they drove into Westbrook, his interface was completely gone and all he could rely on were his senses, devoid of the advantages implants previously gave him. Takemura could feel cyberwithrawal symptoms setting in, slowly building up into the most unpleasant crescendo. Then again, with the way his night was going, maybe he won’t live long enough to have to suffer through it.

    “What are we doing here?” Takemura asked after they all got out of the car. The driver, too, slightly older than his companions, with a steel hand obscured by a long sleeve of his coat. The place was scarcely lit, only one of the big, industrial lamps still working, providing a shaky, unreliable source of light right where they were standing, the three men next to each other, Takemura facing them from a short distance of maybe three meters.

    The driver stepped forward and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. Takemura would surely feel his body tense at the sight if he wasn’t trembling so much at that point. To his surprise, the man didn’t pull out a gun to shoot him with, but a shard. Without any additional explanation, he plugged it in and his hard stare vanished, replaced by a stream of data reflecting on his eyes.

    “Takemura.” the proxy said, unintentionally mimicking Saburo’s voice.

    “Arasaka-dono.” Takemura grit his teeth and bowed to greet the men, fists clenching at his sides to stop his hands from shaking.

    “I am sure you know why you find yourself here. If it is any consolation, it is not only you that can be blamed for your current position. Hanako made a grave mistake asking you to speak to that woman. She planted a seed of doubt into your heart, one that soon grew into a weed and started eating away at your soul. There is a way to remedy that, however. You can still reclaim your honor by finishing what you started in Takamatsu. Right here, right now. There is no need for you to come back to Japan.”

    “Arasaka-dono, I…” Takemura started, but the man raised his hand, silencing him in one gesture.

    “Ishihara here will be your second, should your hand falter. I do not wish for you to suffer.” the proxy turned to the man to his left, the one with the glasses, and gave him a small nod. He stepped forward, revealing a small package he’d been holding, and placed it on the ground in front of Takemura, who immediately knew what it was. He recognized the maroon silk. As he looked back up at the three men, they didn’t move. They simply waited.

    And so Takemura kneeled, eyes fixed on the silk-wrapped sword in front of him. He leaned forward, carefully unwrapping the material until the blade laid bare, waiting for Takemura to grab its handle. Ishihara moved behind him, footsteps barely audible on the concrete floor.

    “You served the Arasaka family well through the years, but even a strong man like you is not immune to change or destructive influence. You surely understand that this is the only way.”

    Takemura did not see it like that. To go on his own terms, reconciled with his mistakes, that was the death he hoped he’d face. This felt like theatrics, a lot of effort put into making him feel like he had a choice where there was none. Takemura allowed his gaze to leave the proxy’s face and look beyond the guards, resting his eyes on the wall so densely covered with graffiti that none of it was legible. A vine crept up the stone, forcing its way into the cracked surface, destroying it even further in its primal pursuit of expansion. Below that, a pair of yellowish, feline eyes gleamed, just outside the circle of light.

    Despite everything, I feel free. You should try that sometime.

    “I do.” Takemura turned his head to the side slightly, just enough to see Ishihara standing behind him, his own sword in hand. Will he wait for Takemura to plunge the blade into his abdomen and only then make the cut? Or will he swing the weapon as soon as Takemura reaches for the wakizashi, intent clear enough in that simple gesture? He didn’t know, but Takemura wasn’t in any position to make bets.

    He leaned down and allowed his hand to reach for the wakizashi, still looking to his left. As expected, just as his fingers brushed the wooden handle of the sword, Ishihara swung his own, aiming for Takemura’s neck. The man reacted on instinct, throwing his arm to block the blade while his other hand grabbed the sword in front of him, fingers tightly closing around the handle. Takemura felt Ishihara’s powerful cut slice through skin and muscle, only stopping at the chrome reinforced bone. The blood soaked his sleeve almost instantly, splatters staining both of their faces, but Takemura grit his teeth and turned, blocking and forcefully guiding Ishihara’s blade away from himself, drastically widening the cut as he lunged forward to drive the wakizashi through the Arasaka agent’s chest. It went in with a grisly, wet sound of tearing flesh and bone. Takemura didn’t stop and turned once more, ignoring his opponent's desperate gasps, dragging Ishihara’s already limping body along, shielding himself from incoming bullets.

    The echo of shots rang wide through the empty parking lot as Takemura practically ran forward, pushing the already dead man in front of him with his full body weight. When his opponent realized he’ll have to reload soon, he took a few steps back, a glimpse of fear going through his face as he wrestled with the magazine. What it was he saw in his eyes that scared him so much, Takemura did not know, but seizing the occasion, he retracted the blade from Ishihara’s body, letting it drop onto the ground like a sack of flour, and lunged forward. Just as their bodies met, the other henchmen managed to fire, but only once before his dominant hand was sliced off in one strike, strong enough to sever the tissue and the wires that held it together. The man screamed as he saw his arm fall to the ground, but before the sound had the chance to echo off the ruined walls, it was cut short.

     Takemura could already feel his left arm lose sensation, growing weak and limp with every ounce of blood he kept losing, but it didn’t matter now, nor did the chills or the way his entire body rebelled against being cut off from augmentations so abruptly.

    The proxy didn’t move, didn’t even flinch, still standing those few meters in front of Takemura. He was armed, holster clearly visible at his hip, but he didn’t draw the gun. Takemura turned to face him, adrenaline still rushing through his veins and keeping him upright. Knowing it won’t be for much longer, Takemura made a few steps forward and stopped, weapon still in hand, his other arm hanging uselessly at his side.

    The proxy hummed.

    “An honorable death or a lifetime of shame. It greatly saddens me that you, of all people, chose wrong.”

    And just like that, the conversation was over.

    Takemura didn’t wait until the proxy fully regained awareness of his surroundings. Hardly honorable, but he doubted he could sink any lower and with the state he was in, letting the man come to his senses would almost certainly mean death.

    Cursing under his breath, Takemura went over to the agent’s bodies and patted them down, but didn’t find what he was looking for. He stood back up and turned to the car, feeling his legs grow weaker with every step. He somehow managed to drag himself onto the driver’s seat and lean to the side to open the glove compartment, throwing the bloodied wakizashi onto the passenger's seat. Dark spots obscuring his vision, Takemura was going in blind, frantically searching for the injector with his good hand. The wave of relief he felt when his blood-soaked fingers finally landed on the familiar shape was almost enough to knock him out on its own, but he forced himself to power through. Tearing off the safety lid with his teeth, he stabbed himself in the chest with it and pushed the plug.

    The effect was immediate. Another rush of adrenaline made it feel like his heart was about to jump out of his chest, it’s breathless beating throbbing in his temples, but the darkness creeping up on him disappeared. Takemura knew the effect wouldn’t last long, but he hoped it’d be enough to at least pull up a first aid kit from under the passenger's seat. When Takemura finally managed to rid himself of the coat and the jacket beneath it, he realized the extent of the damage. His arm looked bad. Really bad. If not for all the blood, he’d surely be able to see  bone and wiring, just barely keeping the limb together. His personal link was shredded, that’s for sure. The coagulants he tried using a second before clearly not working the way they were supposed to, Takemura tried bandaging his arm with one hand and somewhat succeeded, if not for the bright, red blood that soaked through the second he finished tying the knot.

    With a trembling hand, Takemura started typing in the address but found himself missing every other letter, too unsteady to hit them right, smearing blood all over the little screen. The autopilot seemed to take the hint, though, and for the first time in his life, Takemura was grateful for the existence of autocorrect. He confirmed the address and clenched his fingers around the wheel. He’ll try driving it for as long as he can, he told himself, but if he passes out on the way at least there’s a chance to roll up at the door of someone who knows what to do with the body.

    Takemura didn’t remember much of the ride, his hand half-heartedly sliding in the steering wheel, smearing the blood on the fine, fair leather. He could feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness, head swimming with every sharp turn the car took. Eyes on the road, he kept telling himself, fingers clenching on the wheel to the point where it was almost painful.

    After what felt like ages, the car pulled up into the familiar alley and stopped, a cheery voice announcing that he had arrived at his destination. Takemura unfastened the seatbelt and almost fell onto the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding tripping over the edge of the car by grabbing the open door at the last moment to steady himself. He could see people around him, their terrified glances, but no one moved to help him. Those last few meters felt like a lucid, colorful dream. Takemura could hardly walk straight at that point, the world around him akin to a badly cut film. Maneki nekos waving their little, mechanical paws. Scent of incense so sharp it was almost unpleasant. Porcelain set falling to the ground, breaking into hundreds little pieces, impossible to put back together. And a beautiful carpet, no doubt woven by hand, surely only a human could put colors and patterns and threads together so beautifully. Such a waste, he thought before he finally gave in.

    Misty will never get the blood out.

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 59 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella did not want her parents to leave Jotunheim. She loved having her family and friends from Asgard there with her. She used the opportunity to see as many from home as she could through their time on Jotunheim and to spend time with her friends as well as juggle being in court with Loki and also dealing with readying for the baby. 

Loki’s vision for their rooms was not vastly different from hers. The most notable thing she noticed was that he wanted to keep her and the baby as defended as possible by altering the location of the bed so that he was more positioned to defend them both if there was reason to. Knowing that it was something of a peace of mind for him, she merely agreed and assisted with her seidr to allow his request to occur. Satisfied, he seemed more settled leaving both soon-to-be parents more at ease with everything to come. 

Watching her parents ready to leave, she inhaled deeply and ensured that her emotions were not to the fore. Ever the perfect depiction of a royal, she remained stoic and unemotional. 

Thor joked and jested with both Aesir and Jotnar with whom he had grown close to, especially through their shared experience on the battlefield while her parents spoke mostly with other realm royalty. 

Odin ensured to find himself alone with Laufey for a few moments. 

“I would have thought you would want as little to do with me as possible now that such is no longer required.” The old Jotunn commented as Odin created a chair for himself to sit on beside the Frost Giant. 

“Long before we warred, we spoke as two young and often foolish kings. Time has changed many things but I hope one of them is not your ability to converse.”

Laufey sighed. “I ignored that trait for a time and it cost me greatly but I still have it.” He looked over the realm that could be seen from the balcony on which they were sat. below them, Loki was speaking with Grengro, one of the Nidavallir dwarves on a matter. “It is a trait I ensured he exceeded me on and to his credit, he has surpassed anything I ever achieved on the matter, even if he did almost cause destruction with ignoring it as I once did.”

“He is young. Sometimes in youth, we do stupid things. I am only relieved that his came with no cost of life...in the end.” Odin growled as he added the last part, recalling Ella’s ill state when he was called from Asgard due to her ailing health. “Now look at him, speaking to those not even you ventured speaking to.”

“High praise from you of all beings, Allfather.”

“I always said that he would be an able king. Never let that be forgotten. I questioned his suitability to Ella and that worry showed that it had credence when he nearly killed her but nonetheless, both of them persevered in the end, and now look at them. An able king. Jotunheim will know great prosperity once more.”

“And our grandson?” Laufey asked. “One of both of our lines, Norn’s who would have thought such possible after the onslaught of war?”

“Even with the ability of Allsight available to some, it is never truly possible to predict what is to come. Jotunheim and Asgard are bound by blood. In the years yet to come, my son will find himself a wife and with that, have his own heir and our realms shall be ruled by cousins, bound by blood and hopefully comradery with it. It will strengthen them, I would think, but only time will tell.”

“Your wife does not share your hope,” Laufey commented. “Through all of this visit, she has been apprehensive.”

“Look at it as she sees it. Your son almost killed our daughter with neglect, he cast aside our tradition of a Queen standing beside her husband on the throne. I understand that the tradition is different here but Frigga, Vanaheim is stricter than even Asgard on those sorts of protocols and thus far, none of Ella’s traditions seem to be included. I know this is nothing you can control with regards to your son, but see it as my wife does or try at the very least. It is a very peculiar manner in which to do things. Of course, she is apprehensive.”

“And you, Allfather?”

“My opinion on the matter holds little standing.”

“Yet you have one?”

“Opinions are peculiar things. We all have them, they are all indeed valid as they do not have to even be based in fact and truth yet as they are singular to ourselves and in our minds, they all hold credence yet at the same time, they hold none as they are not required for anyone else. I have one but it does not matter, good or bad.” Odin growled his response. 

“You may not say the words, Allfather but your eye and face do. You disapprove.”

“My daughter is nothing but an asset to your son. It would have been a simple acknowledgement to her standing to have given her some modicum of recognition.”

Laufey did not press the issue any further. He understood Odin’s thoughts even if he did not agree with the sentiment. The Jotnar and the Aesir were different in many aspects, this was simply one more. Ella’s title meant little. She was the mate of his son, his only one and the mother of the next king so her standing in that manner alone gave her significantly elevated status, giving her a title was not required, in his opinion. “You can control many things on many realms, Allfather but even this is beyond your or indeed my own intervention.”

“There is much yet written but some parts of it are more set in stone than we think.” He looked at Gungnir in his hand as he spoke. 

“I often fear what it means when you ramble in manners in which few others understand.” Laufey watched Odin carefully. “What is it that you are planning, Allfather? How does it pertain to my realm?”

“I plan nothing for Jotunheim, it is not my domain in which to do so without due cause and your son gives me none but change is indeed afoot here.” 

“How so?”

“That, it would seem, will be revealed to us all in the near future.”

Laufey knew he would not get a clear answer, so he said nothing more, hoping that whatever the Allfather had planned, it did not bode ill for Jotunheim.

*

“Ella?” She looked around at her mate. “I fear I need to tell you…”

“They’re leaving.”

Loki looked sadly at his mate. In the days that her close friends had been present, as well as her birth family, her mood was far more cheerful. Usually, her demeanour was a pleasant one, especially since everything was smoothed out between them but it paled in comparison to the mood that she had when her two realms were all but one. Seeing her face go from one of curious intrigue as to why her mate was calling her to one of heartbreak at realising what was to come, he knew she was suffering and felt sorry for her. “I am afraid so, yes.”

Swallowing harshly and with her nostrils flaring as not to allow herself to cry, Ella nodded and rose to her feet. “Very well.” Her voice was small and cracked with the sound of her sadness. “I guess we better go see them off then.” Using her seidr, she altered her clothing and went from a comfortable and loose-fitting dress to one more in keeping with her position. “Shall we?”

“I’m sorry.”

Loki’s apology caused Ella to frown. “Why?”

“Because this is hurting you in a small manner and I wish it did not.”

“Well, it is not your doing but thank you for the sentiment.”

She walked out of the room without saying anything more, Loki followed soon after. 

The Aesir were the last group to leave Jotunheim. Those not overly fond of the realm but felt obliged to be there for the coronation were the first to leave, soon after, Prince Nigel found himself very much rushing to return to Vanaheim and not long after that, all but the Aesir had departed the realm. 

Standing in front of her parents, having said goodbye to her friends, Ella forced herself to remain stoic, knowing that using a clone to bid farewell was not the right thing to do, even if she wished she could. 

“Do not fret, Mother.” Ella found herself rolling her eyes as Frigga looked at her worriedly. 

“I do not envisage seeing my daughter again before the labours of childbirth, do not tell me not to fret,” Frigga argued. “If you need a healer for anything, do not hesitate to have Heimdall inform us and one shall be here, is that understood?”

“Mother, women have birthed safely in caves, I think I can handle this.” Frigga’s worried face caused Ella to internally curse her mother’s lack of faith in her. “But of course, if there is an issue, I will be sure to call upon Eir. I have no plans to die in childbirth.”

“None tend to plan to do so, yet many have.” 

“Mother, I rather not consider such things. I will continue to speak to you in our usual manner through everything.” Ella found herself wishing that her mother would leave the matter to rest. 

“We shall. Until then.” Frigga curtsied to Ella who returned the gesture in kind. 

Thor simply gave a wave and shouted to demand he be told when his nephew was born, if only to begin bestowing gifts that were entirely unsuitable to him, such as weaponry. Ella soothed Loki’s worries by stating that Thor was merely jesting, though secretly, she suspected he was not entirely convinced herself that he was not. 

Then came Odin, who walked up to the pair and watched as they stood straight and waited for his parting words as they had done her mother’s.

Odin started by looking at Loki. “You have, thus far, kept your word to better tend to my daughter. Now, more than ever, you need to not only keep your previous promise to me but uphold it even more as she gives you a son. Give the same diligence you give to that to your realm also as its king.”

“I shall,” Loki swore. 

Odin nodded, satisfied that he meant it. He then looked at Ella. “And you, keep your…”

“Mouth shut and ears open.” She smiled. 

“You would have made a terrifying Queen. Perhaps it is for the best that you remain in the wings, listening, out of their line of sight so that you can better scheme.”

“I do not need such a title to be terrifying, Father.”

“No, you do not. You have held that accolade without such until now, but after today, I fear they will be even more worried as to your silence.”

Ella frowned at her father’s peculiar words. “I do not…” She was stunned into silence as Odin moved his hand forward, Gungnir in its grasp. For another moment, Ella stood in silent shock before her own hand went out slightly. “No.” She pulled her hand back. “Why?”

“I fear the inevitable has occurred. Gungnir no longer is faithful to me. She yearns for her new wielder, of which, I am not.”

“But I…”

“Take it.” 

Ella did as her father commanded and placed her hand on the staff. As soon as she did so, she felt a surge of energy flow through it to her. “It never did that before.”

“No but yet it does now.” Odin, whose hand was also on the staff felt the energy flow through it before relinquishing his hold on it. “I suspect there is a valid reason for such.”

“What…?”

“The staff is not even reacting to your seidr, I would think.”

Loki, who had been standing next to both of them in stunned silent until that point, looked at Odin with even more bewilderment at that statement. “Then who…?”

Ella looked at her stomach. “Him.”

“The…” Loki could not process what he was hearing. “Could a Jotnar…?”

“It requires a strong seidr wielder to control Gungnir. Ella can do so with ease. She never needed a way to focus her power, she does not need it to do her bidding, she is powerful even without it. But my Grandson, his seidr will not be as strong as hers, but with Gungnir, he will rule Jotunheim with more power than any king before him.”

Loki felt a surge of both pride and fear at such a thought. He thought of his son, the future of Jotunheim with enough power to defend the realm from almost any foe. “But what of Asgard? Surely you would want…?”

Odin chuckled. “Asgard is not without its defences. Also, Thor wields Mjolnir. Because he does so, he could never wish to command Gungnir. It would rot in the weapons vault after my ascension to Valhalla. But that is irrelevant. It has already decided. I am too old and weak to wield her fully now. Now it is time for it to go to its next wielder. Ella will use it until the boy is crowned, then he will become its wielder.” 

Odin’s words were clear to comprehend for all those present. Any who thought that Loki was to be a weak king were realising quickly that none before him would have been as strong and the one after would be stronger still. 

“I guess that this will assist in stopping his seidr from surging too greatly.” Ella quibbed before looking at her father worriedly. “But it has been aiding you, what will you do?”

“Grow old, weak and feeble like every man before me,” Odin commented. “As is the way of life. I have no intentions of living forever. My time is coming to an end. I am not gone yet but I think it is obvious, I need to accept my mortality, something I ignored for too long.” He nodded to himself. “Now, rule this realm as it deserves to be. I await the news of my grandson’s arrival and for the love of the Norns, don’t give him some foolish Midgardian-esque name.” Odin ordered as he walked back towards Frigga who was looking at her husband worriedly, wondering how he would do without Gungnir to lean against when he was weak. 

“Why would we choose a Midgardian?” Ella scoffed. 

“Because beings these days love using names from places they are not from, misspelling and mispronouncing them and not knowing their meaning, Migardians especially. At least know the meaning of the damn thing.” Odin growled as he spoke. 

Ella watched worriedly as he made his way slowing back to Frigga. With Gungnir’s power very much connected to hers, she used it to create a walking stick of sorts for her father who looked at it then at her with a small nod in thanks before going to the Bifrost site to be with his wife. “Goodbye.” Ella mouthed the words but no sound came out as her parents, family and friends were surrounded by roaring lights and a moment later, disappeared. 

When silence came to the realm again. Singed ice and ground melted into the shape of the Bifrost in front of her, Ella felt the gaze of all the Jotnar around her upon her and on Gungnir in her grasp. Without thinking, she toyed with it in her fingers in the exact manner her father was prone to doing. Looking at Loki, who seemed just as startled by events as she was, she simply looked back towards the Jotnar palace once more before walking towards it, feeling as though Gungnir being in her grasp was entirely foreign but also incredibly natural to her as she did so. 

[an-ambivalent]

Uchiha Therapist: Part II

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke

[Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So,  she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present  in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour.

Word Count: 4.1K

–

Story start; A day in the life of Madara Uchiha

It was no surprise really, when the ticking of the clock seemed to become louder with each passing second, and the loudness of it in the agonising silence started to grate on Madara’s nerves. The unforgiving light of the desktop screens in front of him that he worked on constantly in his office, were beginning to hurt his eyes; it left them feeling dried up and sore. The enormous piles of paperwork that were stacked on his desk, and a few more piles on other parts of his office, was the work he had yet to do. Although Madara spent the majority of his time cooped up in his office – some would go as far as to say that he lived in it or was married to it, more and more work simply continued to pile up.

Madara had been employed into the CEO role for the Uchiha corporation for about five years now. In saying so, he had been trained to take over the company and become a diligent, intelligent, intimidating worker– and other adjectives used to describe him, since his toddler days. Growing up with rigid rules and strict parent(s) who had unrealistic high expectations and standards laid out for their children to achieve, came hand-in-hand with his side of the family. It would be unfair to claim that all Uchiha forcefully pushed their children beyond humane capacities.

Granted that their family overall did strive for the best, but mostly in their own capabilities. While achieving excellent results was a driving factor, everyone was encouraged to give it their all because it was the value of hard work that mattered the most. Whether that was an individual working their hardest to overcome their depression and learning to live a better life for themselves, or someone who wanted to be a surgeon and then being expected to commit wholly to their studies – the standard for each person differed; there was no set limits. Madara was satisfied as long as everyone did their best to achieve their own goals and kept up with their well-being. Madara was like this because it was the life he wished he would have had, rather than the one his father and older brother had forced him into.

Having to grow up in the environment that he had, he had missed out on many experiences that were the bare minimum for the majority. Certainly, it had made him stronger mentally and emotionally to the point he was now; at least, that was what he thought. Perhaps, that thinking was the foolish part of him that he was not aware of. Having to grow up in the environment that he had, any sane person would have lost a part of their sanity in one way or another.

Returning back to the original point that the author wanted to explain before she saw the opportunity to introduce a little bit of Madara’s back story, while Madara was more than accustomed to the demanding duties of his work, it did not mean it made it any easier. The lack of sleep and proper nutrition was slowly beginning to affect his health. What would be many hours at work he could get through robotically made him hate his work even more now; it was beginning to become unbearable. The words on the paper he had to read through to decide whether to sign them or not were beginning to blur.

Madara let out an exasperated sigh as he picked up his cup of mocha from beside him and mindlessly gunned down the last few remaining sips. He tossed it carelessly in the bin that was beside his desk, before moving the paperwork away from him and laying his head on his desk.

The sound of his office door opening was heard, and before the person entering had even spoken, Madara felt a vein pop on his forehead out of annoyance.

“Don’t,” he ordered sternly. He could not spare a single bother to even lift his head up to acknowledge the person who had entered.

While Izuna truly did feel bad for his older brother and often took on much of his workload in order to support him, seeing him act so childish and feeling a bit deflated was funny. It was even more entertaining when he rubbed the salt in his wound.

“Big bad Uchiha-sama defeated by mere paperwork? Wait till I leak this to the media to get some money and start a scandal,” he remarked chuckling.

Madara groaned in response, and this time, he did lift his head up to address Izuna as he spoke. “Don’t start unnecessary crap Izuna. You and I both know the bastard will use whatever he can against me.”

At the mention of the ‘bastard’, whatever signs of humour was lingering on Izuna’s face were wiped away. The raven-haired pressed his lips in a thin line to affirm his shared distaste of the bastard that Madara had mentioned.

“You know I would never do that Aniki. I’ll always be on your side,” Izuna spoke seriously, as he sat down on the chair opposite of Madara, and settled a box of food on his desk. Instantly, Madara grabbed the box and pulled it towards himself. When he opened it to reveal a few pieces of inarizushi, his eyes lit up. He gave Izuna a sincere smile, although it was etched with a tinge of exhaustion.

“I know Izuna, if no one else, I know I can always count on you and you can always count on me. For that, and everything else you always do to support me, I will always be grateful to have such a caring little brother,” Madara said grinning. The slightly over-the-top complement had seemed to embarrass Izuna the way Madara had intended to because now, the younger male of the two was housing the colour pink on his cheeks.

“W-Whatever,” Izuna retorted scowling, as he snatched a piece of inarizushi from the lunch he had bought for Madara as a way to get his revenge. While this action did in fact displease Madara, he chose not to comment on it since he needed to be on Izuna’s good side for what he was about to ask.

Madara took one bite out of one of the inarizushi, and nodded in satisfaction at its taste, before he focused his gaze onto Izuna.

“I need you to step in for me this Friday night. I have somewhere to be,” he said nonchalantly. Well, he hoped he sounded nonchalant as to not raise any suspicion. But he knew that the way he had spoken was the tone he used when he wanted to hide something. Barely anyone would be able to notice it, however Izuna was not just anyone. And no matter how much he had wanted to hide it, Izuna had definitely noticed it.

Izuna furrowed his eyebrows. “Again? You needed me to step in last week too. I don’t mind, but it’s not like you to do that. I mean, I’m glad that you seem to be doing something other than work because you work way too much but I’m just curious… Wait, you aren’t doing that sugar baby thing again are you?” He accused, narrowing his eyes.

Madara’s shoulders tensed at Izuna’s accusatory tone. However, before he even had the chance to defend himself (lie his way through more like it) Izuna continued to speak.

“Nii-san, I understand how you feel but that’s not the way to handle things. If you want to settle down, there are women in our clan that will be suitable for you. Or if you need to, we can arrange therapy for you so you have someone confidential to talk to–” Izuna began to ramble, and Madara growled.

“Izuna I don’t need to settle down with a clan woman. And you and I both know no therapy we attend will be confidential because of that bastard and the elders–” Madara started to hiss. However, before he could continue, there was a knock on his office door, causing both of the brothers to freeze.

In the midst of their banter and serious talk, both had seemed to have forgotten they should have been keeping the volume of their voice to a minimum. Usually, both Madara and Izuna were proactive about discussing secrets and making sure no one was eavesdropping and whatnot. However, seemingly both seemed to be so exhausted that it must have slipped their minds. Now, they could only hope that they had not been overheard, and if they had been, whoever it was, would keep whatever they heard to themselves.

“Madara-sama may we come in?” A familiar voice inquired. Both brothers looked at each other as if they were deer caught in headlights before they managed to calm themselves down. Then, they sat back in their seats in a way that would lead one to assume they had been discussing very important business.

“Come in,” Madara responded stoically. Now, he was no longer the merrier man who allowed himself to be expressive in a vulnerable way like he was with Izuna. Now, he was the unshakable Uchiha CEO, who kept others onto the edge of their seat.

The door opened to reveal Shisui and Itachi. Once the two had entered, Itachi who was behind Shisui, made sure to close the door behind them.

Shisui wore his usual friendly smile on his face as he greeted his superiors (who were nearly the same age as him and Itachi), while Itachi had a neutral expression. He merely nodded as a greeting to acknowledge both Madara and Izuna. He knew that while both brothers held nothing against Shisui or even him, there was a sense of discomfort and mistrust amongst them because of how they were related. It was at times like this that Itachi was reminded of his position in the clan – the position that he absolutely hated. If it was not for him and his damn status, then people around him would not be kept at an arm’s distance like he was; Shisui would be in a position in the corporation that he was more than experienced for, but did not get due to Madara’s and Izuna’s distrust in anyone that was close to him.

“Here is all the paperwork to extend our links into the art industry with the Yamanaka corporation. The discussions surrounding the contract for our joint collaboration was a success,” Shisui confirmed, as he handed all the paperwork over to Izuna, who began to skim read through it already.

Madara nodded in acknowledgement. “Good work you too.” And in response to this, both Shisui and Itachi nodded back.

Generally speaking, that was meant to be the end of the conversation and a sign for them to excuse themselves, unless Madara would hint that he needed them to stay to assign their next task right away. However, as Itachi went to leave, because he did not want to overstay his welcome and be around Madara and Izuna for more than what was necessary, Shisui had grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. This action was not missed by Madara or Izuna, and they both raised an eyebrow at them.

“Was there something else you two needed?” Madara asked.

“Forgive us for overstepping our boundaries but we could not help but hear,” Shisui started, and right away his words caused Madara and Izuna to tense. Itachi’s eyes widened as he realised what Shisui was about to do and he instantly shook his head, while trying to pull his arm out of his best friend’s grip.

“Shisui, you’re overstepping your boundaries don’t include me onto your schemes. They hate me enough as it is and if Father finds out–“ Itachi started whispering in panic. However, Shisui gripped his arm tighter to give him reassurance which made him silence himself.

“Shisui I encourage you two to think twice before saying what you’re going to say,” Izuna warned in a low tone, and narrowed his eyes at the two. While his threat would have scared anyone else, Shisui stood his ground and continued to give them a bright grin.

“We heard about Izuna-san prompting Madara-sama to seek therapy but having concerns around that given the nature of some people in our clan,” Shisui started. Near the end of his sentence, his voice had lowered to signify to them that he understood their concerns. However, that was not what annoyed Madara. What annoyed him was that not only his brother, but now other members of his clan were suggesting he needed therapy. For some reason, that assumption really ticked him off.

“Even though it may not seem like it, we care about your well-being, both of us do. We have no intention of saying anything to you know who, especially considering we’re in a similar situation.”

Izuna raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you now? I wonder what he could possibly have against his star son who was groomed to do his bidding,” Izuna accused. At this, anger flooded Itachi. He was going to growl at Izuna but one look from Shisui prevented him from lashing out in any way that might be detrimental.

Izuna looked pleased for having getting underneath Itachi’s nerves.

“As you may know, Sasuke is in therapy right now,” Shisui started and Madara scoffed.

“I actually did not know that. Good to know the members of our own clan are keeping secret from us,” he accused, and this caused Shisui to sigh exasperatedly.

“Well, we’re not keeping any secrets since we’re telling you about this, and it’s a sign of trust because Madara-sama, just like you, if there’s nothing else, Itachi cares the most about his younger brother,” Shisui explained, narrowing his eyes. At this, Madara’s eyes flickered to Itachi who tensed under his scrutinizing stare. Then after exchanging a look with Izuna, both brothers refrained themselves from making any further accusations and signalled Shisui to continue. The mediator between the two parties sighed in relief.

“We have managed to find a therapist who will assure confidentiality of her clients no matter the threats. We did… threaten her so we could sit in with Sasuke during his sessions to assure it went according to what Fugaku-sama wanted. But she refused to allow that unless Sasuke consented to it. I know, you may not believe us so what you do with this knowledge is up to you. We only ask that you don’t inform Fugaku-sama of what we’ve told you in mutual agreement that we will not discuss anything we overheard here. I will just leave the therapist’s contact details here,” Shisui said, as he settled a small business like card with contact information on Madara’s desk.

Then instantly, he bowed before he grabbed Itachi once again, and forced them to hurriedly leave the room.

“We’ll be taking our leave now. I wish you the best.”

As Shisui shut the door behind him after they left, Madara mindlessly took the card Shisui had given him and shoved it into his pocket as Izuna watched him.

"Will you–”

“One more mention of me needing therapy and you’ll regret it.”

The moment Shisui and Itachi were out of the suffocating atmosphere they had experienced with Madara and Izuna, and were at a safe distance where no one was around to hear the young prodigy go off, Itachi went off.

The glare he gave Shisui was cold and vicious, enough to have made a mama bear protective of her cubs freeze over. Internally, Shisui started to pray for his funeral and he sweat dropped.

“Geez, your glare is so cold and vicious a mama bear protective of her cubs would freeze over,” Shisui remarked light-heartedly, trying to improve the mood. However, he had simply succeeded in making Itachi’s glare harden.

“I know you can be impulsive Shisui and like to live ‘life dangerously’ but what you did back there was downright foolish. Our relations are sensitive enough as it is and they don’t trust me because of my parentage. You know we have to cautious around them or Father will–”

“Or your father will beat us up with the stick that’s always up his ass, yeah yeah I know,” Shisui said and scoffed. “But I know better than anyone that you hate being your father’s marionette nor do you deserve that. That’s precisely why we should risk it and try to be on Madara’s and Izuna’s good side because they at least won’t manipulate your strings without your own knowledge.”

“I can’t afford to take that risk. Sasuke has enough to deal with already. If not me, then it’ll be him and I, I can’t allow that. I won’t let them do to him what they did to me. He’s still an innocent child–”

“An innocent child? Itachi do you hear yourself? Sasuke is twenty-two years old. He’s not a child anymore nor is he innocent. He wears his own scars, and as much as you don’t want to hear this, you need to. He doesn’t need you to hold his hand and coodle him. He’s his own person, he can look after himself. The problem isn’t him, the problem is you. You’re the one who refuses to move on from your past and insist on destroying your own happiness thinking you’re some sort of saint who needs to sacrifice himself for the rest of us, when you’re just human, like all of us. Honestly, Itachi you need to get out of your own head and stop letting Sasuke or your dad influence how you want to live your life. Maybe I should’ve kept [Name]’s contact information for you,” Shisui scolded.

Although his words were harsh and cut deep, what mattered to Itachi was how Shisui cared about him so much. Despite not being entirely blood related, Shisui acted as an older brother to Itachi and was probably the one who knew him the most. Unlike many other members of their family, Shisui did not kiss the floor Itachi walked on due to who his father was, suck up to him, or have unrealistic expectations from him. He treated Itachi how he needed to be treated; a normal person. And when Itachi felt himself beginning to spiral, it was always Shisui who kept him grounded and brought him back to reality. He did not voice it often, but he was grateful for Shisui always sticking to his side.

Just like how now, he had given Itachi the desperate reality check that he needed.

Itachi looked at Shisui and smiled at him.

“You know what Shisui, don’t feel too bad about giving her information away to Madara. I’m sure I can get it from Sasuke,” Itachi responded, looking upwards at the ceiling.

Shisui froze for a few moments as Itachi kept on walking ahead of him. Then, he snapped out of his trance and ran after Itachi.

“Wait after all these years, that was all I needed to say to make you admit you have serious repressed issues going on and need to see a counsellor?” Shisui began, but he received no response from Itachi. If anything, Itachi sped up so Shisui would not be able to catch up to him, causing the later mentioned male to run after him.

“Wait Itachi, answer me! Hey, you bastard, I said answer me!”

____________

Friday Night

“Did you not like the food that is prepared here?” Madara asked, after [Name] had entered his penthouse, and made herself comfortable by sitting on the floor behind the coffee table in his living room, with her legs folded. Prior to her arrival, she had told him not to have anything prepared because she was bringing what she quoted “the food of the commoners.”

Even though Madara was traditional in many ways, the interior of his penthouse was modern. For that reason, he found it strange that [Name] had chosen to sit the way she had, and was planning on eating on the coffee table rather than the dining table.

His eyebrow twitched as he awkwardly went beside her.

“Wouldn’t you rather eat at the dining table?” He enquired in last hopes that she would at least eat at the dining table. Said female grinned widely, and patted the empty beside her.

“And give into traditions of the hungry hippos of the capitalist world? No way. Every choice I make, I want them to know how much I hate them,” she said grinning, and Madara scoffed at her response in amusement, as he finally gave in and sat beside her.

“If you say so. What did you buy?” He asked, eyeing the big obnoxious yellow W that was on the paper bag.

“Wcdonalds.”

“And you can afford to buy this?”

“The money you sent me for our first date was more than enough to buy this…  amongst other things as well,” [Name] began in a murmur as she turned her head towards Madara. “You know you don’t have to pay me that much. I don’t think I did anything worth the amount you sent me.”

Madara raised an eyebrow because he never had anyone complain about that before.

“You have an issue with how much I chose to give you?” He asked incredulously.

“N-No, I just think that I didn’t do anything to earn that much,” she tried to argue.

“I enjoyed your company, so I paid what I saw fit. It’s disheartening to have you question the worth I saw in you,” Madara reasoned. Admittedly, his tone was a bit icy which made [Name] wince inwardly. Rather than elaborating on it any further since it was a topic he was evidently not open to discuss, she let it drop and steered the topic of the conversation in another direction.

“Have you ever eaten Wcdonalds before?”

Madara stared at her for a good few seconds before he shook his head, causing [Name]’s grin to return to her face.

“Well you’re in for an experience. Care to guess how much it was?” she said, as she slid over a paper bag over for him. Then, as she unwrapped her burger, and bit into it Madara’s eye twitched.

“$60? Don’t you need cutlery to eat? The kitchen is right there–”

“Wrong, it was $20 for two meals. And don’t worry about the cutlery, you can eat the food without it. The purpose of this is to be convenient, meaning no cooking, no dishes required, so no cleaning afterwards either. Here, try some of these fries with ketchup,” she prompted. Albeit being a bit hesitant, Madara did as she said and tried the combination. Admittedly, it was a bit too greasy for his liking, but he still enjoyed it.

“It’s good. Anyway back to what I was saying before,” Madara started, and slid closer to [Name] until he was pressed against her side. Tenderly, he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear to get a better look at her face. [Name] found herself beginning to feel flustered as Madara leaned closer to her.

“If you did think you lacked in your performance that much, you’re always welcome to step up your game and do what you think you must to earn your paycheck,” he suggested, before he left a light feathery kiss just behind her ear. “After all, the purpose of our meeting was to be intimate. I was just lucky enough that you’re compelling just as much as you are beautiful.”

“Y-You think I’m b-beautiful?” she inquired shyly.

“Of course.”

“W-Well, I think you’re beautiful too.”

Madara’s lip twitched upwards in amusement. “You think I’m beautiful?” He asked, copying her words from before.

[Name] smiled sweetly at him. “Of course.”

“I’ve never been called beautiful before,” Madara pointed out chuckling, as he shortened the distance between their faces. [Name]’s eyes had widened momentarily, before she closed her eyes and began to follow his lead. However, just as Madara’s lips brushed against hers, and she was about to deepen their kiss, Madara pulled away.

[Name] blinked multiple times in confusion before what had happened sunk in. She saw Madara staring down at her with a wicked smirk on his face, and had it been possible, steam would be coming out of her in embarrassment.

“We should eat. Wouldn’t want the food you bought to go to waste,” Madara remarked. His smirk widened when [Name] pouted at him. Then, when her stomach rumbled loudly to signal her hunger, she was left feeling more embarrassed, but dug into her very much needed dinner.

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 59

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - The Aesir prepare to leave with Odin leaving a little bombshell on Jotunheim with his departure.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife @salempoe @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @rookienumber98 @ivytoh @agarwaeneth @rosierossette  @arch-venus25 @nessamaurice @winterisakiller @black-ninja-blade

Request if you wish to be tagged

Ella did not want her parents to leave Jotunheim. She loved having her family and friends from Asgard there with her. She used the opportunity to see as many from home as she could through their time on Jotunheim and to spend time with her friends as well as juggle being in court with Loki and also dealing with readying for the baby. 

Loki’s vision for their rooms was not vastly different from hers. The most notable thing she noticed was that he wanted to keep her and the baby as defended as possible by altering the location of the bed so that he was more positioned to defend them both if there was reason to. Knowing that it was something of a peace of mind for him, she merely agreed and assisted with her seidr to allow his request to occur. Satisfied, he seemed more settled leaving both soon-to-be parents more at ease with everything to come. 

Watching her parents ready to leave, she inhaled deeply and ensured that her emotions were not to the fore. Ever the perfect depiction of a royal, she remained stoic and unemotional. 

Thor joked and jested with both Aesir and Jotnar with whom he had grown close to, especially through their shared experience on the battlefield while her parents spoke mostly with other realm royalty. 

Odin ensured to find himself alone with Laufey for a few moments. 

“I would have thought you would want as little to do with me as possible now that such is no longer required.” The old Jotunn commented as Odin created a chair for himself to sit on beside the Frost Giant. 

“Long before we warred, we spoke as two young and often foolish kings. Time has changed many things but I hope one of them is not your ability to converse.”

Laufey sighed. “I ignored that trait for a time and it cost me greatly but I still have it.” He looked over the realm that could be seen from the balcony on which they were sat. below them, Loki was speaking with Grengro, one of the Nidavallir dwarves on a matter. “It is a trait I ensured he exceeded me on and to his credit, he has surpassed anything I ever achieved on the matter, even if he did almost cause destruction with ignoring it as I once did.”

“He is young. Sometimes in youth, we do stupid things. I am only relieved that his came with no cost of life...in the end.” Odin growled as he added the last part, recalling Ella’s ill state when he was called from Asgard due to her ailing health. “Now look at him, speaking to those not even you ventured speaking to.”

“High praise from you of all beings, Allfather.”

“I always said that he would be an able king. Never let that be forgotten. I questioned his suitability to Ella and that worry showed that it had credence when he nearly killed her but nonetheless, both of them persevered in the end, and now look at them. An able king. Jotunheim will know great prosperity once more.”

“And our grandson?” Laufey asked. “One of both of our lines, Norn’s who would have thought such possible after the onslaught of war?”

“Even with the ability of Allsight available to some, it is never truly possible to predict what is to come. Jotunheim and Asgard are bound by blood. In the years yet to come, my son will find himself a wife and with that, have his own heir and our realms shall be ruled by cousins, bound by blood and hopefully comradery with it. It will strengthen them, I would think, but only time will tell.”

“Your wife does not share your hope,” Laufey commented. “Through all of this visit, she has been apprehensive.”

“Look at it as she sees it. Your son almost killed our daughter with neglect, he cast aside our tradition of a Queen standing beside her husband on the throne. I understand that the tradition is different here but Frigga, Vanaheim is stricter than even Asgard on those sorts of protocols and thus far, none of Ella’s traditions seem to be included. I know this is nothing you can control with regards to your son, but see it as my wife does or try at the very least. It is a very peculiar manner in which to do things. Of course, she is apprehensive.”

“And you, Allfather?”

“My opinion on the matter holds little standing.”

“Yet you have one?”

“Opinions are peculiar things. We all have them, they are all indeed valid as they do not have to even be based in fact and truth yet as they are singular to ourselves and in our minds, they all hold credence yet at the same time, they hold none as they are not required for anyone else. I have one but it does not matter, good or bad.” Odin growled his response. 

“You may not say the words, Allfather but your eye and face do. You disapprove.”

“My daughter is nothing but an asset to your son. It would have been a simple acknowledgement to her standing to have given her some modicum of recognition.”

Laufey did not press the issue any further. He understood Odin’s thoughts even if he did not agree with the sentiment. The Jotnar and the Aesir were different in many aspects, this was simply one more. Ella’s title meant little. She was the mate of his son, his only one and the mother of the next king so her standing in that manner alone gave her significantly elevated status, giving her a title was not required, in his opinion. “You can control many things on many realms, Allfather but even this is beyond your or indeed my own intervention.”

“There is much yet written but some parts of it are more set in stone than we think.” He looked at Gungnir in his hand as he spoke. 

“I often fear what it means when you ramble in manners in which few others understand.” Laufey watched Odin carefully. “What is it that you are planning, Allfather? How does it pertain to my realm?”

“I plan nothing for Jotunheim, it is not my domain in which to do so without due cause and your son gives me none but change is indeed afoot here.” 

“How so?”

“That, it would seem, will be revealed to us all in the near future.”

Laufey knew he would not get a clear answer, so he said nothing more, hoping that whatever the Allfather had planned, it did not bode ill for Jotunheim.

*

“Ella?” She looked around at her mate. “I fear I need to tell you…”

“They’re leaving.”

Loki looked sadly at his mate. In the days that her close friends had been present, as well as her birth family, her mood was far more cheerful. Usually, her demeanour was a pleasant one, especially since everything was smoothed out between them but it paled in comparison to the mood that she had when her two realms were all but one. Seeing her face go from one of curious intrigue as to why her mate was calling her to one of heartbreak at realising what was to come, he knew she was suffering and felt sorry for her. “I am afraid so, yes.”

Swallowing harshly and with her nostrils flaring as not to allow herself to cry, Ella nodded and rose to her feet. “Very well.” Her voice was small and cracked with the sound of her sadness. “I guess we better go see them off then.” Using her seidr, she altered her clothing and went from a comfortable and loose-fitting dress to one more in keeping with her position. “Shall we?”

“I’m sorry.”

Loki’s apology caused Ella to frown. “Why?”

“Because this is hurting you in a small manner and I wish it did not.”

“Well, it is not your doing but thank you for the sentiment.”

She walked out of the room without saying anything more, Loki followed soon after. 

The Aesir were the last group to leave Jotunheim. Those not overly fond of the realm but felt obliged to be there for the coronation were the first to leave, soon after, Prince Nigel found himself very much rushing to return to Vanaheim and not long after that, all but the Aesir had departed the realm. 

Standing in front of her parents, having said goodbye to her friends, Ella forced herself to remain stoic, knowing that using a clone to bid farewell was not the right thing to do, even if she wished she could. 

“Do not fret, Mother.” Ella found herself rolling her eyes as Frigga looked at her worriedly. 

“I do not envisage seeing my daughter again before the labours of childbirth, do not tell me not to fret,” Frigga argued. “If you need a healer for anything, do not hesitate to have Heimdall inform us and one shall be here, is that understood?”

“Mother, women have birthed safely in caves, I think I can handle this.” Frigga’s worried face caused Ella to internally curse her mother’s lack of faith in her. “But of course, if there is an issue, I will be sure to call upon Eir. I have no plans to die in childbirth.”

“None tend to plan to do so, yet many have.” 

“Mother, I rather not consider such things. I will continue to speak to you in our usual manner through everything.” Ella found herself wishing that her mother would leave the matter to rest. 

“We shall. Until then.” Frigga curtsied to Ella who returned the gesture in kind. 

Thor simply gave a wave and shouted to demand he be told when his nephew was born, if only to begin bestowing gifts that were entirely unsuitable to him, such as weaponry. Ella soothed Loki’s worries by stating that Thor was merely jesting, though secretly, she suspected he was not entirely convinced herself that he was not. 

Then came Odin, who walked up to the pair and watched as they stood straight and waited for his parting words as they had done her mother’s.

Odin started by looking at Loki. “You have, thus far, kept your word to better tend to my daughter. Now, more than ever, you need to not only keep your previous promise to me but uphold it even more as she gives you a son. Give the same diligence you give to that to your realm also as its king.”

“I shall,” Loki swore. 

Odin nodded, satisfied that he meant it. He then looked at Ella. “And you, keep your…”

“Mouth shut and ears open.” She smiled. 

“You would have made a terrifying Queen. Perhaps it is for the best that you remain in the wings, listening, out of their line of sight so that you can better scheme.”

“I do not need such a title to be terrifying, Father.”

“No, you do not. You have held that accolade without such until now, but after today, I fear they will be even more worried as to your silence.”

Ella frowned at her father’s peculiar words. “I do not…” She was stunned into silence as Odin moved his hand forward, Gungnir in its grasp. For another moment, Ella stood in silent shock before her own hand went out slightly. “No.” She pulled her hand back. “Why?”

“I fear the inevitable has occurred. Gungnir no longer is faithful to me. She yearns for her new wielder, of which, I am not.”

“But I…”

“Take it.” 

Ella did as her father commanded and placed her hand on the staff. As soon as she did so, she felt a surge of energy flow through it to her. “It never did that before.”

“No but yet it does now.” Odin, whose hand was also on the staff felt the energy flow through it before relinquishing his hold on it. “I suspect there is a valid reason for such.”

“What…?”

“The staff is not even reacting to your seidr, I would think.”

Loki, who had been standing next to both of them in stunned silent until that point, looked at Odin with even more bewilderment at that statement. “Then who…?”

Ella looked at her stomach. “Him.”

“The…” Loki could not process what he was hearing. “Could a Jotnar…?”

“It requires a strong seidr wielder to control Gungnir. Ella can do so with ease. She never needed a way to focus her power, she does not need it to do her bidding, she is powerful even without it. But my Grandson, his seidr will not be as strong as hers, but with Gungnir, he will rule Jotunheim with more power than any king before him.”

Loki felt a surge of both pride and fear at such a thought. He thought of his son, the future of Jotunheim with enough power to defend the realm from almost any foe. “But what of Asgard? Surely you would want…?”

Odin chuckled. “Asgard is not without its defences. Also, Thor wields Mjolnir. Because he does so, he could never wish to command Gungnir. It would rot in the weapons vault after my ascension to Valhalla. But that is irrelevant. It has already decided. I am too old and weak to wield her fully now. Now it is time for it to go to its next wielder. Ella will use it until the boy is crowned, then he will become its wielder.” 

Odin’s words were clear to comprehend for all those present. Any who thought that Loki was to be a weak king were realising quickly that none before him would have been as strong and the one after would be stronger still. 

“I guess that this will assist in stopping his seidr from surging too greatly.” Ella quibbed before looking at her father worriedly. “But it has been aiding you, what will you do?”

“Grow old, weak and feeble like every man before me,” Odin commented. “As is the way of life. I have no intentions of living forever. My time is coming to an end. I am not gone yet but I think it is obvious, I need to accept my mortality, something I ignored for too long.” He nodded to himself. “Now, rule this realm as it deserves to be. I await the news of my grandson’s arrival and for the love of the Norns, don’t give him some foolish Midgardian-esque name.” Odin ordered as he walked back towards Frigga who was looking at her husband worriedly, wondering how he would do without Gungnir to lean against when he was weak. 

“Why would we choose a Midgardian?” Ella scoffed. 

“Because beings these days love using names from places they are not from, misspelling and mispronouncing them and not knowing their meaning, Migardians especially. At least know the meaning of the damn thing.” Odin growled as he spoke. 

Ella watched worriedly as he made his way slowing back to Frigga. With Gungnir’s power very much connected to hers, she used it to create a walking stick of sorts for her father who looked at it then at her with a small nod in thanks before going to the Bifrost site to be with his wife. “Goodbye.” Ella mouthed the words but no sound came out as her parents, family and friends were surrounded by roaring lights and a moment later, disappeared. 

When silence came to the realm again. Singed ice and ground melted into the shape of the Bifrost in front of her, Ella felt the gaze of all the Jotnar around her upon her and on Gungnir in her grasp. Without thinking, she toyed with it in her fingers in the exact manner her father was prone to doing. Looking at Loki, who seemed just as startled by events as she was, she simply looked back towards the Jotnar palace once more before walking towards it, feeling as though Gungnir being in her grasp was entirely foreign but also incredibly natural to her as she did so. 

[minmotl]

Chapter 29: Sui Zhou Offers Tang Fan His Wallet; Brings Him Home to Meet his Grandma

Context: Follows directly after Chapter 28. They’ve just closed the Li family case (Li Man and his mistress) without a proper resolution, Tang Fan climbs a tree and gets hurt, Sui Zhou honestly gives Tang Fan his salary and then brings him home to meet his grandmother, the only person whose approval means anything to Sui Zhou.

Introduction Post | Masterpost

–

Highlights under the cut

Ah Dong is also the kind of person to crave for any food that she sees, just like Tang Fan. When she was still with the Li family, she frequently went to the cook to steal food and the cook often made pastries for the young master and Lady Zhang, so after filling up a plate there was still an excess of one or two pieces. Thus, Ah Dong often enjoyed this little benefit, and now she’s already eight years old, but the curves that any young lady should have is still absent from her body. Instead, there are signs of her growing in the round, curvy direction.

However, the times she spent in the kitchen then was not for naught. At least from the Li family’s cook, she managed to steal some skills and techniques from watching, enough to satisfy the glutton with many requests in her own family. Just like this Huai Ye Tao, she began craving for this a little after Tang Fan’s description, and between the siblings, one of them climbed the tree, and the other made the gravy and noodles, and in the end they actually managed to produce it.

Thin and narrow Huai Ye gravy noodles sit in bowls that are as white as white jade, then drizzled with garlic, sesame oil and vinegar. The aroma wafts through the air. Tang Fan and Ah Dong close their eyes at the same time, drunk on the aroma, and if they told others they were just recently made siblings, no one would believe them.

“Come here, hurry and try it!” Tang Fan scoops out a bowl for Sui Zhou personally, and with a grin pushes the bowl, a spoon and some condiments towards the man.

Sui Zhou is speechless, lowering his head to taste it. It is actually pretty tasty. The freshly picked locust tree leaves have a woody, fresh scent and then made into gravy and mixed into the noodles, even the noodles have a sort of locust tree scent. It is fresh and delicious, most suitable for the summer, no wonder Tang Fan is obsessed with the dish.

Seeing Sui Zhou’s nod, Tang Fan’s eyes brighten, “Then let’s try the Golden Fried Chicken next time!”

Before Sui Zhou gets a chance to speak, Ah Dong says, “Da-ge, don’t forget that you cut your hand when you were climbing the tree, and you want to go and catch a chicken next time? Won’t you get bitten by the chicken instead?”

Tang Fan glares at her, “I’ve not climbed trees in a while, I’m a little rusty is all, a few more times and I’ll be familiar with it again.”

Ah Dong laments, “You’re going to try again? This morning I was looking out for you at the bottom of the tree and I was already anxious, so afraid that you would drop down. In the end you really did fall, please don’t tell me there’ll be a second time, I’m afraid I’ll be frightened to death!”

“It’s good enough that you have some to eat, but you’re still nagging every single day, be careful that you wont’t be able to get married in the future!” Tang Fan reaches out to pinch at her ear.

Don’t simply look at how round Ah Dong is, for her movements are still pretty agile. With a jump, she hides behind Sui Zhou in a flash and sticks her tongue out at Tang Fan as she laughs.

Sui Zhou asks, “You’re hurt?”

Tang Fan shakes his head, “Don’t listen to Ah Dong’s nonsense. It’s just a small cut from where I scratched myself on the branch.”

Sui Zhou nods and doesn’t say anything more.

Huai Ye Tao, cucumber salad, beef with gravy — one meat dish and another vegetarian one, both are fresh, easily digestible and appetising dishes. After finishing their meal, their heated bodies are relieved and cooled.

Sui Zhou used to live alone and even though he knew how to cook, because of how busy he was, most of the time he ended up settling for the easiest option. He ate at the court, eating while looking through records without tasting the food he was eating and it was rare that he could eat as he does now, the three of them gathered together, chatting as they eat and tasting the detailed preparation that went into these dishes.

In the beginning, he felt that there was no need to come back and have dinner if he was planning to work late, but at Tang Fan’s insistence, he complied. Now that he’s gotten used to it, no matter how late it gets, he always rushes back home. These changes happened to him unconsciously.

After they are done with the meal, Ah Dong begins to keep the bowls and chopsticks and Sui Zhou says to Tang Fan, “Come with me.”

He brings Tang Fan to his study.

“Your sleeves,” he says.

He has always spoken precisely and simply, and if he is able to not speak, Sui Zhou will not speak. When he is forced to say something, he is as precise as possible.

Tang-daren thinks, it’s good that he is so smart, otherwise it would be impossible to understand what Sui Zhou means from this utterance alone.

When he rolls up his sleeves, they can see the long cut on the outside of his right arm. While the cut is not deep, it’s likely that it bled quite a bit. Now that the bleeding has stopped, revealing a long scar caked with blood, the sight is a little alarming.

Sui Zhou glances at it once, before picking a cream out of the many bottles and jars on the table. Using his finger, he dabs at the cream lightly, before spreading it on Tang Fan’s wound. The wound stings and hurts, but he is still able to tolerate it. Tang-daren does not grimace or grit his teeth, but after the cream is spread evenly on his wound, he can feel a comfortable, cooling sensation and even the pain eases a little.

“This is a really effective ointment, I won’t have to worry when I end up falling again,” Tang Fan jokes, but it’s met with Sui Zhou’s cold glare, and so he shuts up.

“You’re still thinking about a next time?”

“…”

Tang Fan tries to resist, but fails, “The Huai Ye Tao was really delicious, don’t you think?”

He says it in a whining tone, as if he’s been wronged and is suffering. Sui Zhou’s lips cannot help but curve upwards, but fortunately, he manages to turn away and Tang-daren does not see it.

“If you want to have it in the future, tell me,” Tang Fan hears Sui Zhou say after a moment.

Tang Fan beams, “You’re truly a good xiong-di!”

Hearing that he’s a good xiong-di to Tang Fan all because he’s willing to climb a tree and pick leaves has Sui-baihu feeling a little helpless, “Didn’t you want to talk about the Li family?”

Tang-daren goes ‘oh’ twice, remembering the matter at hand and shifting from his gluttonous mode into a serious and proper state.

He goes through his hypothesis from start to end and at the end, says, “Lao Li once told me, he said that Li Man gave up on the Imperial Examination that year and when he first switched to commerce, he suffered a lot because he was inexperienced. He lost all his capital and the Li family was left with a lot of debt. At the brink of despair, they switched to some other business after and the Li family turned their situation around overnight. Lao Li is only a steward and he knew very little, but now that I think about it, perhaps the reason why Li Man could recover is because he obtained assistance from the White Lotus Sect. Both parties began colluding with each other early on, otherwise Li Man had a virtuous wife, a filial son and great wealth, how could he have been tempted to murder his wife and kill his son?”

Sui Zhou nods, “I will report on this matter and continue to chase after the whereabouts of Li Man and Lady Chen. The White Lotus Sect has been getting increasingly bolder with every passing year. The battle at Tu Mu Fortress more than a decade ago revealed the White Lotus Sect’s collusion with the Oirats.”

At the mention of that battle, Tang Fan sighs.

The world shook with the huge event that happened that year and at that time, Tang Fan was not yet born but this did not hinder him from understanding fully what happened. It’s not just him — if the whole world knew about this event, they would sigh just like Tang Fan too.

Because the Emperor did as he pleased and was unknowledgeable, it led to the event that caused more than 10,000 deaths, including talented officials and subjects who were celebrated for their achievements and accolades, and even the Ming dynasty’s three main battalions and their strategists were almost entirely decimated. After that, people would bring up Emperor Ying Zong’s political history repeatedly without mentioning his name directly.

However, Tang Fan thinks that it is too tragic to exchange so many deaths for the growth of a single person. What is done has already been done and no matter how much embellishment and euphemism used, the mistakes he made cannot be covered up. The Emperor was deceived and became the shame of the country. At that time, the Oirats invaded aggressively and the city was left defenceless. If it wasn’t for Yu Qian who stepped forward, rejected all dissenting voices, insisted on not abandoning the capital for another city, and even announced a new Emperor, leading the army to defend the city in a battle, it’s very difficult to say what Jing city and the Ming dynasty would have become.

Tang Fan reminds him, “From the incident at the fortress, we can see how large a scale the White Lotus Sect’s plans are. I’m afraid the issue with Li Man is only the tip of the iceberg.”

The moment the White Lotus Sect is involved, it is no longer something that Tang Fan himself can solve. The Northern Administrative Court has greater experience, and leaving them to investigate is clearly more suitable.

Sui Zhou nods in agreement, then says coldly, “Judging from Li Man’s personality, even without Lady Chen and the sect’s manipulation and temptation, it’s likely he would have still done what he did.”

Clearly, Sui Zhou does not think highly of this man, who dared to kill his wife and destroy his son like that.

“There are no lack of people like Li Man in the world, but because of the White Lotus Sect, they’re given opportunities,” Tang Fan says.

Looking at Sui Zhou’s weary face, he asks again, “Did you come across something complicated again?”

Sui Zhou shakes his head, “It’s just as I told you previously. The disciples of the White Lotus Sect made use of the fictional books to spread rumours and confuse the public, we’re only checking through the books thoroughly and banning the necessary ones from the market in recent days.”

Tang-daren goes ‘ah’ and then smiles eagerly as if trying to get on Sui Zhou’s good side, “Guang Chuan ah, can we discuss, if you see that book titled “The Memoir of the Pear Blossoms”, if there’s no problem after you’ve read it, can you not seize it There’s another one called “The Flying Sword:…”

His volume decreases with every word at the other’s expressionless gaze, and reveals a sheepish, guilty look at the end.

Sui Zhou says, “There are orders from above, as long as it’s fiction, we will seize it all equally. The people who are investigating the books are reading the books briefly and it’s very difficult to see which books exactly are problematic, so they would rather eliminate all the books together than let one escape.”

“Besides,” he pauses and looks at Tang Fan, his cold and stoic demeanour finally morphing into a bit of exasperation, “You’re an official of the court and still you went to write these books under a pseudonym. If you’re found out, your reputation will be ruined.”

Tang Fan chuckles, “How bad can that be? It’s not just me, but there are a lot of people in court who do this. We’re all using our pen names anyway, no one can identify us. Otherwise how is our salary able to support our families? If we don’t want to become corrupt, this is the only other alternative we have. I don’t mind telling you either, that Deputy Minister He from the Department of Justice? That “Sound of the Tides Under the Moon” was written by him, and also someone from my batch who was a literary assistant in Han Lin but has now moved on from there, he too wrote one or two novels for some quick cash. As his style of writing is more open than mine, his content is more vibrant and dynamic and is immensely popular with book publishers. His royalties are even more than mine, and also some people in the Ministry of Rites, after the exams, they will sell the answer scripts from the exams’ highest scoring candidates to the bookstores and earn money from there. There are plenty of scholars who buy those guides for reference and consideration, and those sell much better than novels!”

Sui Zhou listens to the man list out his examples as if he is counting the treasures in his own home, and his expression remains rigid.

He naturally remembers the Deputy Minister that Tang Fan mentioned, and that old man’s reputation for being righteous and stern precedes him, so Sui Zhou finds it very difficult to imagine that Old Man He will write these kinds of fiction in secret. And with the interrogation skills that the Embroidered Uniform Guards employ, they had no idea that this was happening. It looks like they will have to reflect on themselves as well.

He hears Tang Fan sigh again, trying to sound pitiful, “So, you have to look at us civil officials, we look as if we have a lot of power and status on the surface, but in reality, after studying so hard for more than a decade, once you become an official you have to receive and give gifts as well, so it is very difficult for us to proceed without money. Higher ranking officials host banquets, if you don’t turn up with a gift you will have offended the host, and it’ll be difficult for you to live in the future. If you want to give a gift but don’t have the money, one will end up stealing from the citizens, resulting in their suffering, but we can’t blame them entirely. I’m not speaking up for them, I’m just saying that there aren’t that many who are as intelligent and smart as I am, able to write novels and be paid royalties…”

“I have a salary,” Sui Zhou says.

Tang Fan continues, “Don’t you think, Guang Chuan…. huh? What did you just say?”

“I have a salary, so you don’t have to worry.”

Embroidered Uniform Guards are different from civil officials, their salaries comprise the monthly base salary and also allowances.

Their monthly salary is the same as officials, but the added allowances are to compensate them for out-of-city obligations or tasks. Those from the Northern Administrative Court often need to head out for investigations, and not only do they get abundant travel fees, when they get to their destination, they will receive plenty of courtesy gifts and some ‘gray’ earnings. Moreover, the Embroidered Uniform Guards’ original duty was to escort the Emperor when he travelled, which  means they have to look fresh and respectable. The guards are also a bunch of fierce-looking, harbingers of calamity, so anyone who sees them are afraid. This is the reason why even when the courts have to tighten their spending, even when the Ministry of Revenue is temporarily unable to mete out money and provisions, they would never dare to decrease the guards’ salaries and food.

Everyone knows that it is better to pick a soft persimmon to pinch at, after all.

Tang Fan stays alone and it’s not as if they are responsible for the livelihoods of a whole household. Even with an added Ah Dong, the expenditure will not increase by much, but Tang Fan is a glutton for delicious food, so he runs outside often and ends up with little savings at the end.

On the other hand, Sui Zhou is the epitome of a person who lives simply and is thrifty. He lives alone but doesn’t indulge in any vices, and doesn’t have an extraordinary passion for good food. Everyday, aside from being at court, he is at home. His life is so simple that it’s comparable to that of a practicing monk’s. After the necessary gifts are given to his family and higher-ranking officials during the New Year as is expected of him, there is still plenty of excess after the year. Tang-daren pales in comparison.

Upon his words, Tang Fan is stunned for a moment before he begins to laugh manically. He ends up having to support himself with a hand on Sui Zhou’s shoulder, and simultaneously rubbing at his stomach, “Aiyo, hey, then we siblings will have to depend on Sui-baihu in the future. When I truly finish spending my salary, you must supplement me with more!”

“Hnn,” Sui Zhou agrees.

Tang Fan still cannot help but want to laugh, and yet he is also a little moved. He knows that not just anyone will be able to make Sui Zhou say what he just said.

“Guang Chuan, to be honest, I didn’t have much of an impression about the Embroidered Uniform Guards, but after I knew you better, that’s when I knew that among the guards, I would have a friend like you, a real good man who’s just like my soulmate!”

A bit of warmth surfaces in Sui Zhou’s cold, even eyes, even though he still simply hums in response as he typically does.

“In a couple of days, it’s my grandmother’s birthday, are you willing to go with me?” he asks.

Zhou is his grandmother’s surname, and her identity is unusual. She is the present Empress Dowager Zhou’s older sister.

Lady Zhou came from a common background and the Ming dynasty has rules for women in the harem to be chosen from the public’s good families and not from high-ranking officials. This is to prevent the harem from colluding with their relatives to intervene in politics. Lady Zhou was just like many other women in the harem but ended up with the title of Royal Consort before finally becoming the Empress Dowager as the Emperor’s mother. The Zhou family naturally rose with her growth, prospering. Aside from Empress Dowager Zhou’s father receiving a title, her siblings also received titles. Due to Lady Zhou, Sui Zhou’s grandfather was also given the title of Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guards.

Commander is the Embroidered Uniform Guards’ highest title, but it is not just one person who holds the Commander title. For example, Royal Consort Wan’s younger brother Wan Tong is also Commander as well, but he holds real power and authority in this case. There is another Commander called Yuan Bin, who once saved the late Emperor’s life and so has a lot of influence within the Embroidered Uniform Guards. Similarly, he holds power and authority as well.

Aside from these two people, there are plenty of Commanders in the guards, but most of them were given the title in name only by the Emperor. With just the name, these individuals take the money without lifting a finger, and naturally do not have any real power.

These external relatives given titles are part of the nouveau rich and cannot be compared to people like Marquis Wu An Hou who was given his title after having earned it in battle. It’s a nice thing to hear, but they don’t actually have any power. All they do is collect money and provisions each year.

Thanks to Empress Dowager Zhou, within the Sui family, Sui Zhou’s father and brother were also given roles in the Embroidered Uniform Guards, the kind of roles where they only need to collect money without having to work. This caught a lot of attention from others because they aren’t even Empress Dowager Zhou’s direct relatives and are not from the Zhou family, which means there’s an additional layer between her and the Sui family. After Sui Zhou entered the guards, he could only start as a xiaoqi and get slowly promoted from there.

Since they do not have any authority and the family is considered an external relative, most civil officials are unwilling to interact with the Sui family. This is firstly to avoid wagging tongues and secondly, no official is willing to lower their status like that.

After Tang Fan hears him say that, without even thinking about it, he says, “Since we’re brothers, your grandmother is naturally my grandmother. In two days just remind me, we will go together.”

Sui Zhou’s heart warms, and he hums in assent.

***

Two days later, on Madam Zhou’s birthday, Tang Fan brings along Ah Dong and follows Sui Zhou back to the Sui house to celebrate his grandmother’s birthday. Madam Zhou only has one son and daughter, and her daughter is Sui Zhou’s mother.

After Madam Sui married Sui Zhou’s father, they had three children with Sui Zhou in the middle. Above him there is his older brother Sui An and the youngest is Sui Bi.

Despite being Empress Dowager Zhou’s relatives, the Sui family is a common, normal family, and unlike the Wu An Hou manor and the Li family, they do not have the practice of having three wives and four concubines. Sui Zhou’s father only has one wife, Sui Zhou’s mother, and Sui Zhou’s paternal grandparents are no longer in this world.

Madam Zhou’s son is a small official out of the city and only her daughter remains in Jing city. The siblings planned and in order not to let their mother go through the exhausting journey by carriage out of the city to enjoy the last of her years, they decided to leave Madam Zhou in the city. The Sui family then bought the house next to the old lady’s and moved over to become her neighbours. In this case, they would be able to take care of her but prevent others from gossiping about them.

After listening to the explanation of the Sui family tree, Tang Fan finds it a little strange, “If that’s the case, it seems that your numbers are simple, so why did you move out on your own?”

Sui Zhou says idly, “My brother was given the title of baihu, but it is merely an empty title. He couldn’t get used to the duties in the Embroidered Uniform Guards and wanted to excel by studying, but until now he has not managed to pass the qualifying exams. While I began in a position lower than his, today I can be considered as an official as well. My sister-in-law doesn’t like me and rather than having to deal with endless arguments at home, I might as well move out for some peace and quiet.”

Tang Fan understands immediately. Every family has its own troubles.

Sui An is the eldest and is expected to take over the family in the future, so his parents definitely are more biased towards him and have higher expectations of him. Judging from Sui Zhou’s character, he definitely couldn’t be bothered with these matters at home and so decided simply to move out to avoid conflict, lest the brothers fight.

Madam Zhou’s son and his family is unable to return from outside the city to celebrate her birthday, so the event is naturally organized by her daughter instead. Considering Madam Zhou and Empress Dowager Zhou’s relationship, the Sui family would not dare to celebrate her birthday simply, but Madam Zhou did not wish to host a grand celebration. She said that she was born into a simple, common family and can enjoy riches today only because of the Empress Dowager. Thus, she should cherish the fortune she has. Instead of hosting a party and making a fuss, wasting money and inviting a bunch of people she doesn’t know to celebrate with her, she would rather gather all her grandchildren and have a good meal together.

The birthday celebration is being held in the Zhou family house. Sui Zhou and his family on need to move next door to celebrate for Madam Zhou, which is convenient.

When Tang Fan arrives at the Zhou house, that’s when he realizes that other than he and Ah Dong, everyone else is from the Sui family.

Madam Zhou has passed sixty, has a full head of white hair and looks both kind and warm. The moment she sees Sui Zhou, her eyes fold into happy lines as she smiles and she reaches out for him, pulling him over, “My good grandson is here to see me, hurry, come here, come here!”

Even if Sui Zhou’s face is habitually stoic, the moment he sees Madam Zhou, his expression softens. He greets Madam Zhou and wishes her a happy birthday before giving her his present.

With respect, he calls, “Grandmother.”

“Good, good, good!” Madam Zhou says ‘good’ three times consecutively, and then seeing Tang Fan and Ah Dong standing next to Sui Zhou, she smiles, “Ah Zhou, are these your friends?”

Before Sui Zhou can answer, someone on the side comments, “Er-di, it’s a family banquet today. Madam said not to bring outsiders, so why did you still bring strangers here? There are female members of the family here today and it’s not as if they are close to our family, this was too inconsiderate of you!”

The person who spoke is Sui Zhou’s sister-in-law, his brother’s wife, Lady Jiao.

Sui Zhou and his married older brother cannot see eye to eye and their relationship can be attributed to the disagreement Sui Zhou has with his sister-in-law. Sui Zhou is still single, but Lady Jiao doesn’t like him and keeps driving a wedge between Sui Zhou and Sui An. After a while, the brothers’ relationship would be affected as well.

Moreover, Sui Zhou grew up under the care of Madam Zhou as his parents doted on their eldest son, but Madam Zhou doted instead on Sui Zhou. The Embroidered Uniform Guards is a popular place to work at. Sui Zhou is the second son and doesn’t have the surname Zhou, so originally he had no chance of obtaining any titles, but Madam Zhou spoke up for him before Empress Dowager Zhou and Sui Zhou shifted from having only an empty title to an actual post. It’s no wonder that Lady Jiao is green with envy at the differential treatment.

However, she forgot that Sui Zhou is not a person to be easily bullied.

The moment she finishes speaking, Sui Zhou responds, “From today onwards, they’re close friends of the family then.”

===

Notes:

*馋货 chan huo

A glutton who is craving for something specific to eat.

*柿子要捡软的捏 shi zi yao jian ruan de nie

Soft persimmons are sweet and delicious, this is a metaphor for how people are likely to succeed with bullying the weak (soft persimmon) and are scared of rock-hard persimmons. In this case, this metaphor is used to show that people are scared of the Embroidered Uniform Guards when they’re fierce, but being nice to them and turning them into soft-er persimmons will make things easier for people.

*灰色收入 hui se shou ru

Literally translated as gray earnings i.e. money someone makes from moonlighting.

*通家之好 tong jia zhi hao

To show that two families have a good and meaningful relationship between them, as if they were from one big family. Being a 通家 (tong jia) I think is like an official, big thing? Not something to be taken lightly, so when Sui Zhou declares Tang Fan and Ah Dong to be a 通家 (tong jia), he confers some sort of status on them.

*兄弟 xiong di

Meaning brother. This can be meant for like bros - brothers or actual biological brothers. You can also use both characters separately, with xiong used for a male your age or older, and di for someone younger. Tang Fan calls Sui Zhou Guang Chuan-xiong quite frequently.

*百户 bai hu

There are four ranks within the Embroidered Uniform Guards - 千户 (qian hu)、百户 (bai hu)、总旗 (zong qi)、小旗 (xiao qi) arranged highest to smallest rank, aside from the Commander 统领官 (zong ling guan).