#(So when her boy is threatened you can bet she's tempted by the Dark Side)

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Ducktales Reviews: Escape from the Impossibin! or A Dark Night of the Soul

It’s a long dark night of the soul for everyone’s favorite family of ducks as our beloved family grapples with the revelations of last episodes. While Scrooge clearly smarts from the betrayal he pits his latest security system against Della and Louie, given the title it naturally goes wrong and forces all three to try to escape. Meanwhile Beakly sics Webby on Huey and Dewey, and Dewey gets a cool new sword he can’t use while Huey has a slow burn mental breakdown.. again. Someone get my poor boy some therapy.  Suprises, Also an exaustingly deep dive into the life of Bentina Beakly. Disguises but sadly not pies of all sizes insue under the cut.

Well.. this one was fantastic. Obviously i’ll explain why as we go but holy shit I was not expecting a master class of an episode just one week after the already great Let’s Get Dangerous. And yes I had my complaints there but none of them, especially on the second watch, really detracted from what was honesty an amazing episode. And after slogging through “Catch as Cash Can” over the past few days, this was a welcome return to the version of the duck family I love best and a crisp reminder of why this series is so frigging amazing. I may criticize, i’m a critic comes with the territory, but I genuinely and wholly love this show, and this episode is encapsulates why. So enough lollygagging, let’s dew it to it!

We open with one of those scenes where two characters give a similar speech and it flashes back between both as they finish each other’s sentences. It’s a storytelling choice I never realized I always loved as it’s always a good way to amp up tension or comedy. It’s a good way to start. At the Mansion, Beakly is lecturing Donald, Huey and Dewey, because both families likely talked Launchpad into just sharing different days with each of them after the first inevitable sleep driving car crash so he’s with his boyfriend and child right now. It’s also really nice to both have almost the entire main cast given something to do for an episode AND have the one missing member have a thoroughly valid reason for not being there that was set up last week.  It’s also really nice to see Donald and Della again. While it’s only been two weeks, both have only featured in one episode this block so far, and Della’s been kind of pushed to the side this season.. not unfairly mind as she was the focus for two solo episodes and a ton of episodes last season for obvious reasons but it dosen’t mean I can’t miss my disaster twins when they aren’t around.  So anyways back on the episode, Beakly is naturally assuming theirs more traitors in their midst, and she and webby have narrowed it down.. this dosen’t really come up aside for a gag in a second for the rest of the episode, but is both funny and two of them are clearly setup for later. Have a look

My thoughts in order: 

Little Bulb: He probably IS plotting to betray them, but for entirely unrelated reasons.  Donald: .........................................................................................................

Look I get it on some level, as he was away from the family a long time, hated Scrooge, and had every reason to betray him. BUT, and it’s a bit but, besides the obvious of Bradford and his goons being the reason they gave up looking for his sister, if for good reason, Donald would’ve TOLD them all about that by now if he’d been spying, or if he’d had any dealings with the man. The man loves his family, uncle included, more than anyone and even at their lowest point I doubt he’d sell the man out for the boys sake unless FOWL threatened them. Donald is principaled, hardworking, loving, and has both dove directly into a nest of shadows and sent himself hurtling to earth in a possibly lethal rocket to protect this family, so even if this is a funny gag, it does bother me Beakly and ESPECIALLY Webby, his surrogate niece, would even consider this. That being said while I felt the need to rant because he’s my boy and I feel protective of him, it was damn funy as Donald naturally tries to wipe it off because.. yeah everything above, only to get caught in the flipping board and ending up as above with Beakly forced to admit it’s probably not him. Plus yeah.. he’s also way too clumsy and anger prone for wetwork so there’s also that. 

Fenton: I’m TEMPTED to use the trunks picture twice in a row but besides that being obnoxious.. I get it MORE here. Donald has no motive anymore, would’ve told them by now if he had when he did, and has broken his back for all of them at one time or another. Probably literally in some cases. Fenton is sweet, loyal and another one of my boys.. but his obviousness has left him open to deception in three different episodes, not counting the tolkyolk one since that wasn’t BOYD”S choice: But he put blueprints out online for a mcduck industries project, got his armor taken by beaks luring him in to work for him, and had Gandra working for Beaks snuck into his lab.. and probably in the process also got any info on it Bradford couldn’t get through company files. He’s a good man, a kind man but he could easily be a leak without realizing it and also has a mother at home and could be threatened into doing stuff for them for her saftey.. and yes I know she can take care of herself but we’re talking a regular cop against secret agents who aren’t above murdering one. He  might panic even if rationally he knows she’s fine.. or they could do the inverse and use her to get secrets from him since she’s a mother and Gandra could probably easily hack fenton’s armor, since Bradford probably has the full blueprints at this point. The point is while I don’t see him betraying them WILLINGLY, I get him being a possible leak. Donald could be, but again is too obvious and likely reguarly checked for bugs anyway long before fowl, as is Launchpad I assume. 

Bluescreen Beagle: I don’t know this dude, but I’m betting he’ll be important soon enough since they brought him up at all and he is a beagle working for Scrooge so that alone is interesting. 

Louie: Yeah unlike my boys I have no excuses for him here. While Louie is family, and has proven his own loyalty plenty... he’s also selfish, greedy and shortsighted so like Fenton he could be an easy accidental pawn at best or turn on them for money or an adventure free life at worst. I don’t think he would mind, i’m just more understanding of this given just last episode his response to a clearly suspicious thing making machine was to ignore any suspicion entirely and whine about it while Huey looking into it ended up saving the universe. He also nearly killed them all last season, so fair enough.   

So yeah Beakly is going to train them to 

WHich the boys are all for while Donald gets all spinny eyed ont he floor. Cue credits... though obviously we have to cover the scrooge side of things too... 

Meanwhile at the bin, Scrooge has brought Louie and Della there because there the sharpest mind he knows, and their seeing all the angles means their the perfect test subjects for his new post-deeply cutting betrayal security system. He also obviously goes off on an alteration filled rant at Bradford that has to be cut before he can get to calling him shiteating. And given he’s a buzzard that’s probably not inaccurate. Point is they are genuinely the best ones for the job and both agree.. Louie’s not really enthuastic about any of this but hey it’s their money this is guarding so why not. So with that done since we have two full plots to deal with and they don’t intersect until the last few minutes, like with Forbidden Fountain of the Foreverglades, i’m going to be splitting this one and covering each bit separately since it’s also easier for me to recall and recap that way. 

Beakly, Brah, Making Kids (and herself) Cry, Brah!: 

A can of coke to whoever figures out that reference first. Or a free review comisson shipping Coke is expensive you know? But yeah as you can tell this bit is not going to go well for any of the kids, or the beakly or my heart. So this plot continues at breakfast, where Huey is meticulously going over both his guidebook and Finch’s Journal to see if there’s ANY signs of F.O.W.L. their connection anything.. it’s also very clear he’s panicking. Given his enitre life is built on logic and he’s now facing a threat he probably feels he SHOULD have seen coming.. I mean they clearly have access to the Missing Mysteries, there must be SOME tie to them SOMEHOW. He, in my opinon at least, feels blindsighted and scared, going up against a group using his own love of logic that blindsighted all of them INCLUDING Scrooge, the most clever and daring adventuerer of all time and Beakly, who was likely responsible for seemingly wiping out F.O.W.L. in the first place. If THEY can be blindsighted, what hope does he have? So he’s searching for it in his comfort texts, kind of like I did at his age: when theirs a crisis trying desperatley to solve it even if you really can’t, which he cannot, at leats not alone.  Dewey of course being Dewey, has decided the solution is to get a massive sword he can’t lift and hit people with it and mock Huey for his reading. Huey gets what’s clearly the start of his episode long emotional breakdown, the worst he’s had of SEVERAL this series and over the biggest stakes thus far, seriously get this boy some therapy, while Dewey just thinks the key to beating their worst menace yet is a giant sword to hit things with. He does break a pot with it in an accidental spin attack in a later scene though so I do apricate that reference. 

But when opening the serving tray they find an attacking Webby instead with Beakly explaining why she’s doing this to her surrogate brothers: Beakly is testing them by having Webby sneak attack them at some point and the’ll never know when, while Beakly herself works with Donald to secure the house.. sadly we don’t get to see any of that latter part, as it’s probably full of hilarious slapstick, but it’d also clash heavily with the rest of this plot which, while not lacking in jokes, is meant to be uncomfortable and have us on edge like the boys, so fair enough. Webby “Bringer of Death” hugs htem saying this is going to be fun. 

Naturally it really REALLY isn’t as Huey is still very shaken by this. And it cleverly ties into what’s been shown from day one and especially this season to be his greatest weakness, and very likely the crux of his character arc: Huey can’t improvise. It’s a nice contrast to Louie last season: Louie’s very talent is thinking on his feet, seeing every angle and making them bend the way he wants. I’ts how he schemes as well as he does, how he fits into the family and what makes him himself. What he needed was to think of others and think through the consequences of his actions. That’s what he gained from his arc last season: perspective, the ablility to improvise while also not shooting himself in the foot for later and to have empathy for people.  Huey is the oppoisite: Instead his ablility to think IS his skill. He’s a genuis, able to understand super science on the level of fully grown adult genuises, able to puzzle through confounding mysteries, to solve any problem. He and huey both are gifted with anyalsis, but Louie sees the small picture, the people, the moving parts at the moment, while Huey sees the big picture and how everything connects to lead to one thing and loves learning more and more. I REALLY relate to him that way. But this season has brillinatly drilled in where he needs to improve: He’s not ready for suprises or deviations from his plans or all the things that could go wrong. He can’t improvise, he just panics. It’s something again I relate to and something that each of his episodes has set up leading to this moment hammering it home and me realizing what his arc was:

Challenge of the Senior-Junior Woodchucks had Huey utterly lost without his Guide Book for a while and unprepared for a sudden challenge in Violet. Quack Pack had him unravel when he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the world, yet he was perfectly fine once he knew what was going on, Astro B.O.Y.D. was entirely about his intellgence and need for structure leaves him bullied and alone a lot of the time even among in his element with the woodchucks and how he finds friendship in someone like himself who gets him. Rumble for Ragnarok showed that while he can comment find for sports like golf where there’s rigid structure, rules and history, he fails as bad as Launchpad at calling wrestling because wrestling is just as much about sponteaniety as planning, with run ins, reff discrations and other chaos being part and parcel and even in real life matches often have to be changed on the fly due to injuries or someone simply coming up with a better finish at the last minute. At the same time the season’s shown how it is vital to him, as the next two, The trickening and forbidden fountain showed WHY his structure works and that it can in the right format, and that he usually has reason for it. And the final one showed that too, with him being the one to find out what Bulba’s up to simply by research, and while he didn’t stop it, his pulling at the threads of why Bradford was there and his hate of them forced FOWL out into the open which, while now putting him on edge, forced their enmies into the open where while their more dangerous, they can now at least strike back.  Huey’s arc is , hopefully if i’m right about this, about him having to learn to use his strengths with his weakneses, much like Louie last season: To adpat, to grow while not forgetting who he is and that not everything can be put in a box, as the creators put their interpretation of him. Not everything can be quanitfied or planned for and sometimes you just have to try and hope for hte best. It’s a damn compelling arc, my relating to it helps of course but it paints Huey as a fascinating character and tying it heavily into the main plot fixes how Louie was largely removed from the moonlander plot aside from one episode, as was glomgold’s quest. While the season has three main plots: A focus on Huey, the missing mysteries and FOWL, all three intertwine perfectly and are interconnected. The creators learned well from where they slipped up last time and the result is phenomenal, and they’ve clearly proven this is Huey’s season afterall: Even when he’s not been the a-plot who huey is, how he functions and being forced to grapple with the downsides of it are front and center and I am here for it. 

But yeah he’s breaking down, not helped by trying to go to beakly only to find out about the hidden bin and Dewey tries to help him calm down.. only for Dewey to walk in and unsuprsingly the one who can actually offer deep encouraging support was Webby who threatens this isn’t the attack. Nor is her dummy she leaves for them. The boys are left terrified hoping they won’t be attacked and holding Dewey’s sword, but Huey ends up convinced it’s just a test and that it’s the classic paranoia gambit: by telling them something will attack, the real lesson is to be prepared.  But Nerp, Webby attacks them with arrows and easily snares Dewey while Huey has a panic attack that’s genuinely hard to watch as he ends up running into the wall and breaking his ankle. This very real pain along with his clear trauma when he flinches at her genuinely trying to help him snap Webby out of it: She realizes she’s gone way too far and utterly terrified her own brothers, sending one into a full on mental breakdown, just to prepare them. Up till now it was probably normal for Webby: Beakly trained her rigorously, if understandably, kept her from the world, probably did this to her, and Webby just thought it was normal and it made her what she is. But it also came at the cost of any normalcy. To me Webby’s always been like a lighter, since she can at least speak, has toys and Beakly you know treats her like a human being rather than a weapon, of the second Batgirl, Cassandra Cain. Cassandra was raised from birth as an experiment to make the ultimate weapon, someone who rather than speak spoke in phsyical motion and could kill effortlessly.. but actually doing so shocked her and she escaped and Bruce took her in. Cass is as badass as Batman at a fraction of the age but dosen’t understand simple life things and can’t speak. Hence the parallel: While Beakly isn’t a monster like David Cain, she still took a small child and turned them into a weapon strugging to adapt to society, and only isn’t a monster because as said she clearly cares about webby and dosen’t want to loose her like she lost her child and in-law to whatever presumibly fowl related nightmare took them from her and left Webby an Orphan.  What i’m getting at with this is this feels like Webby realizing while this is her normal.. the boys can’t take it with Dewey terrified and again, Huey nearly broken by all of this and whimpering in a corner. This isn’t bonding between master and student, grandmother and granddaughter, partners in fighting.. this is just .. wrong. So when Beakly, not noticing how badly she’s damaged either boy, demands Webby continue attacking them, Webby refuses, stands firm.. and prepares to take on the person she loves most in the world, yes more than Lena she’s only 12 for christ’s sake, and Beakly gladly accepts. Webby’s training is in session.  When we next see them the fight is in full force, and it is awesome to see. After 3 seasons we not only see Beakly’s darkest aspects come out we see her granddaughter in the path. Though at first it seems like what their training sessions normally are, a friendly if lively and full force spar between two trusting combatants. But it becomes clear over the fight from Webby’s reaction that Beakly is going harder than usual, and doesn’t stop when asked. Thankfully her kind gesture paid off as Huey and Dewey whisk her up to the attic. Webby is genuinely SCARED, never having seen her like this but also worried for her: Acting like a monster or not.. Beakly is still her granny and it’s clear FOWL coming back has rattled her. The fist through the attick doors, barred with the sword proves that.  The kids head up to the roof with Beakly in persuit like some sort of slasher villian, again fist through a door, determined to still fight while Webby clearly just wants this to stop and so does the audience. This hurts.. intentionally so but I haven’t been cut this deep by two family members literally coming to blows since Amethyst fought Pearl in the first season of steven universe. It’s tough to watch but in a very good way. The boys break up the tension for half a second by  rushing her and she just tosses them aside... where their caught by Donald, who didn’t realize ANY of this was going on and is rigthfully pissed.. though dosen’t do the angry dance thing because then he’d kill his children but he’s sure thinking it loud enough. 

As Webby reluctantly readies for round 2, Donald calls at her to fucking stop already. While she counters with they have to be ready, which is true... Donald shuts her down. “Not like this”. She’s broken Huey and Webby and Dewey.. is traumatized but fine but this episode really isn’t about him.  What it is about is Bentina Beakly and her Dark Night of the soul. I brought up the term for dumb reasons admitely: Because it sounded neat and because Douglas Adams had spoofed it with the dirk gently novel “Dark Tea-Time of the Soul” a title that’s stuck with me and a book I own and still need to read. But I looked it up to make sure I wasn’t badly misusing it and it turned out to fit this episode: A Dark Night of the Soul, as defined by spirtual guru and thankfuly not scumbag Eckheart Tolle whose article explained the old expression better than wikipedia could. While he naturally pitches his book there, it was still helpful so thanks man for your spirtual advice helping me analyize ducks. I owe you one. 

The Dark Night of the Soul is essentially a person coming to their lowest point after having lost themselves or feeling lost, rattled by one event and awakening with a new sense of spirtual purpose and a new direction and a sense of self again after it. Having everything you know upended and coming out the other side with a new self, usually in a religious sense. And it works here because really that’s what Huey, Beakly, Scrooge and to a Degree webby face here. Louie, Della, Dewey and Donald are all fine in the face of FOWl and it makes sense: Louie and Donald are often outside the adventure bubble in terms of enjoying it, seeing it’s dangers to them and in Donald’s case his kids, Webby included, and how much chaos it is. Both have accepted it as part of their lives so while this escalates things, both just see it as just more of the peril and chaos that’s a daily part of their lives. Dewey and Della being thrillseekers and loving a good challenge simply see this as taking on an epic challenge: fighting the worst villians of the world off and having a daring story to tell. Webby similarly isn’t that effected at first because she sees it the same way likely and only starts to get bothered by it when it starts tearing her family, the thing most precious to her, apart over it. 

But for the other three it makes sense. Obviously we’ll come back to Scrooge during his part of the episode. But for Huey as we’ve seen this upends his world. There was a massive deadly secret just beneath him, an unknown beyond all unknowns, and it rattled him.. and having his own sister constantly terrorize him just made it worse. For Huey without consitencey his life falls apart as those prevoius episodes highlhted.l He can prepare for anything.. but he has to know it’s coming and having a villian group who strikes from the shadows is his worst fears manifest and preparing for that naturally breaks the poor boy. He gets through it though, as once it’s on someone else, his fear falls away and as we saw his focus is entirely on helping webby: Not on himself, not on the risk but on protecting his sister. It shows that Huey has the potenital for instinct, as seen with the woodchuck and wrestling episodes too, he just needs to get out of his own head and let it work with his gut instead of trying desperately to use only his head. 

For Beakly though it’s far worse... and really gets to the core of who she is in this series. She was, and probably still is, a Secret Agent, who fought long and hard to utterly destroy FOWL, at the cost of everything else, constnatly having to keep her guard up with spies all around her and with Scrooge apparently being the only friend from those days who lasted the whole time. SHe probably lost countless partners in both sense of the word, time and youth she’ll never get back and everything she had to stop them. She gave S.H.U.S.H. everything as far as I can tell.  And then she got her reward. FOWL was gone, she had a child, and possibly had a loving partner, provided they didn’t either leave her pregannt and alone or just grow apart from her eventually we don’t know at this point and i’m just spitballing. Point is she had a child, she had a happy ending.. except clearly.. she did not. According to the website, and it’s probably still accurate, Beakly was living in seclusion following her retirement, likely to keep anyone from harming her child.. but also because with her partner possibly gone, she had almost NOTHING left. A child that either kept her at arms length or she kept at arms length to keep their family safe, an old friend who was busy as is, and a safe world.. that’s all she had. Just her and alone. And that’s been clearly shown as Beakly’s biggest issue as we see: She has trouble letting others, even webby at times given how she lied at her, in and given all she’s lost it’s hard not to see why. After a life time of probably watching cold blooded killers kill people she loved and having people betray her and loosing the father of her child possibly, again it’s vauge, no wonder she is the way she is.  And then it somehow gets worse and better: She looses her child, one of the three people she has left in the world.. yet she finds herself in charge of Webby. And with that.. she has a purpose again, to protect this child. This baby girl who needed her more than anything. So she did.. a little too well as discussed. To quote the excellent song “Dark, Sad, Lonely, Knight” from the musical “Holy Musical B@tman!” which yes really exists: 

“I remember that horrible night that night you were split in two, and I swore I’d protect you. So I built a wall all around you, but the wall was too tall, it blocked out all the birds and the sun. I tried to raise you right! I tried to raise you proper! I tried to be a mentor and a friend and a mother and a brother too! I’d insulate you from any outside source of fright... i’d make bloody certain, you’d never see another, dark, sad, lonely night. “ 

And yes as you can imagine that was sung by Alfred.. but it fits perfectly. That’s how Beakly raised Webby, guarding her from the world, trying to protect her from the world the way she’d always guarded herself from it. She did hurt webby’s development.. but you can see WHY. She lost everything, she had two people left in her life at that point: One had given her home and the other had given her her soul back. She couldn’t loose Webby so she made sure she couldn’t and held her as tight as she could. It’s why she pushed Scrooge to let his young nephews into his life. She saw over her time with him he was doing what she did, pushing everyone out. She wanted him to avoid being alone like she was before Webby. And it worked.. and showed her Webby clearly wanted to see the world and that Bentina didn’t have to be afraid to show it to her anymore, and could let Scrooge share in doing so. She let her be free and opened up for the first time in likely a decade since she got a two year old dropped on her lap.  And soon wither she’d admit it or not she found herself part of the family. She found herself the voice of reason, sometimes sharing it with Donald, and the one to put both Scrooge and the rest of the family in their place when they nearly tore apart again, helping Donald realize that for all scrooge hurt him.. Scrooge hurt from loosing della too, and helping the boys realize Scrooge, much like herself, tends to lash out at people. She prevented them from getting distance from their family, knowing from experince you may never get them back or mend that wound. She was part of the family and for the first time in her life even if again, given her emotoinal distance she wasn’t really close to any of the duck family but Scrooge and her newly inducted Grandaughter, she still clearly cares and looks after them and even her harsh treatment of Della was well meaning and understandable.  And that’s why the F.O.W.L. revelation tears her apart to her very core, her very SOUL: Because not only is the enemy she thought dead, or may of known wasn’t dead we don’t know but this episode leans towards the former alive, not only is her worst enemy, one who nearly killed her grandaughter part of them once again, but their head was one of Scrooge’s most trusted advisors and associates, the man he trusted more than himself at times to do what the company needed and the only one who knew his deepest secrets besides Beakly herself. They now faced not only her worst nightmare reborn, but with vital info about them and everyone around them. And for all we Know F.O.W.L. took her family from her in the first place and now they easily could again and she NEVER saw it coming. It’s why she drives everyone including Webby so hard, because she can’t take loosing everyone she cares about again so they will be ready, they will be prepared even if it destroys them on the inside because she cannot take it again.. she can’t fail them AGAIN. I feel she puts a lot of the blame on herself because in this family it’s her job to be the suspicious one, to see things coming, to be ready, to be the one who knows EVERYTHING even more than scrooge.. and this apparently rattled her as much as he did and suprised her just as much. She failed and she can’t again even if Webby hates her for it.  But in trying to continue the fight.. she slips, Webby dodges and she falls off the roof.. and everyone helps her up. Even if they all have EVERY REASON to be mad at her they help. And Webby points out this can’t go on. They won’t get stronger tearing themselves apart.. their a family. They don’t need to do it like fowl, they need to be themselves and work TOGETHER. The one thing they have, the one thing they can trust is each other. Beakly is touched like this and realizes their right.. their not the enemy.. and there the one people,, for once in her life she can fully and completely trust. She tries apologizing to webby, they hug..and then gets an alert. What’s all that about? Well to get that that we kinda have to finish the other story.. which I would’ve put first had I realized this was going to be as long as it was but hey. 

Escape from the Impossibin 

Thankfully this won’t be as long or as emotionally complex.. entirely. So back at this plot about 20 minutes ago, Scrooge breaks down the challenge and the risk as it was made by the most devious and deranged minds he knows: Gyro and Quackfaster with Louie getting a good laugh out of me by pointing out “Why are the most devious minds in Duckberg friends of ours” to which I say because only Scrooge let’s them go all out, and on the friend part, at least for you, Louie...

I mean maybe Quackfaster, but you stole from Gyro multiple times now. And he hated Fenton for far dumber and more petty reasons why wouldn’t you assume he hates you too.. I mean he did help with Louie’s Eleven but there was also a good chance your head would explode there so I don’t really count it. 

Anyways Scrooge offers lunch if they make it, which Louie notes means he must REALLY not think they will. And the first test proves his overconfdience correct as we enter the most dangerous, devious and deadly trap Gyro could manage.. which given who we’re dealing with, i’d be very afraid. The ultra violent ultra violet trap seems at first to just be a bunch of purple, if really cool buzzsaws and sawblades, your standard super villian death course.. but Gyro being beyond your average super villian, I mean the only reason he’s not is he has a steady job that lets him build a clone army with company resources so why would he give that up, jazzed it up with an ultraviolet bit of bulbtech.. and due to the violet light it hides the traps ,meaning their invisible. And while Louie and Della try navigating them, they cannot get through as Louie runs out of PEP to spray them with and Della using her metal leg as a guide, which itself is awesome for her as she clearly and wisely made the thing nigh indestructible and we haven’t seen it tear or get destroyed once all series so good going, really should market that to other people in need of prostetics della and Scrooge. Scrooge is of course delighted as that’s the entire point even if his child and grandchild are understandably not as happy about it.  But naturally, as I hinted at in the teaser, it goes wrong as Scrooge’s password dosen’t work and he tries it too many times, been there, sucks. Granted Louie asks hilariously “Your the oldest man in the world why isn’t your password just 1234″.. and though the why is obvious, it’s still a good line. Point is their locked out and now have to escape it for real! Weirdly Scrooge dosen’t catch onto the fact of whose behind it, but we’ll get to that. He does have more pressing matters. Luckily Louie figures it out after an insult at the Bulbtech causes it to flash read, like most Bulbs do.. but since this Bulb’s entire purpose is to flash Purple, that means pissing it off makes the blades visable and while Scrooge is understandably sore that his 3 million dollar security system has such a big flaw in it, they escape. Though I get Scrooge’s frustration: Their going up against someone who knows how Gyro’s tech’s works, if Louie can figure it out so can Bradford and he wouldnt send FOWL in without a full briefing on Scrooge. 

We don’t see the next one as it’s a time loop room, it’s a time loop room, it’s a time loop room okay i’ll stop and so does Dell after Louie well meaningly smacks his mom. Next puzzle’s quackfaster and I like scrooge pulling a Dumbledore and having some of his most trusted advisors devise the traps for him. I may hate JK Rowling for good reason but I did always love that bit of the Sorcerer’s (Or phillosphers in the uk because the publisher’s weren’t as stupid) Stone. Death of the author and all that. Point is I like it here too even if i’ts truncated for time. But Emily’s trap is a bunch of tiles that fuck with gravity because apparently she’s magical now... who knew. I’m not questioning it though: She runs a giant library full of dangerous, and probably magical in some cases, literature.. if she didn’t know spells she probably woudn’t be able to sort some of them. It’s a new fact out of nowhere but it makes perfect sense. 

Point is they have to figure it out though Louie once again succeeds with some books and, in a really cool bit, using scrooge as a platform with the two walking in time and della grabbing on as they hit the master rune to shut them all off. It’s a damn cool sequence even if Scrooge is agrviated.  We then come, after they apparently fought a Squid Monster off screen, because Quackfaster can also apparently summon demons.. or gyro made a tentacle monster which dosen’t suprise me at all. Either way it’s the final challenge in the main room leading ot the bin and in the way of deactivating security: A Scrooge Robot! Because as we all know by video game logic, the Robot Version is always stronger. Of course Louie’s annoyed both at the spending of his inhertince and at Scrooge’s egotisim but he has a good point there and the thing looks hilarious clunky with 8-bit eyes.. till it morphs, to scrooge’s delight, into a giant purple robot with a cane and scrooge’s face on the front j jonah jameson style. I never see that spider-slayer refrenced but i’mg lad this one did. Granted it could be to arim zola or something but I feel the Spider-Slayer refrence fits here.. take a look if your curious. 

See? Anyways a fight insues with Scrooge, in a great bit, riling up Della when she fishes for him to admit she would’ve’ been a better base by bringing up Donald first instead. The trio get their asses kicked, and a pep can drops out, as naturally Louie was lying but it’s a rare flavor so I get it. I do. Thankfully his lies do save them however as the Cherry PEP he fires at the machine stuns it while Scrooge USES THE POGO CANE MOVE ON IT. Hell.. fucking yes. It’s about time we saw that again and in fully glory here too. I really want that game on the switch by the way.. where’s my disney afternoon collection.. WHERE CAPCOM WHERE.  But yeah they won.. and Scrooge is upset. Because this was SUPPOSED to keep FOWL out but if his family can beat it so can they. And now we get to Scrooge’s far less horrifying dark night of the soul as we get a sense of just how much this whole ordeal has rattled him: As he mentioned at the top of hte episode he TRUSTED  Bradford. It was clear he never liked him as a person, but Scrooge is a paranoid guy, he hardly trusts anyone and for someone to earn that it had to take a lot.. and it naturally stings. We see that while he may of been a necessary evil, SCrooge still liked the guy on some level and to have someone he trusts and respects betray him naturally shook Scrooge. He trusted someone.. and they knifed him in the back going against all he stands for. Instead of earning money, Bradford stole what Scrooge and others worked for while working to destroy him as soon as he feasably could and take his legacy for himself. To Scrooge, Bradford was revealed to be the worst kind of parasite and one that leeched off him for probably decades.  But what’s worse is the risk that creates: Bradford was one of his top guys and the only other one running the company: He knows EVERYTHING about Scrooge, every secret, every investment, where every treasure is stored, and everywhere he’s been. He knows about his friends, family, some of his darkest and most guarded for a reason secrets, secrets he’d never give away freely.. and can now use ALL of it to destroy his family and everyone they care about. That sheer level of betryal would rock anyone but someone like Scrooge, who BARELY trusts anyone and can even be paranoid of his own family from time to time? LIke beakly it’s easy to see why he spiraled and why he put so much into this: Because like Beakly, he was blindsided, and his buisness, his crown jewel, the thing he put his heart and soul into and worked hard to build up and CONTINUES to work hard on to this day.. was being slowly corrupted and he has no idea what parts or where or just what all Bradford did with his money and resources and what nasty suprises he has hidden in them. The one thing he could trust as almost entirely his is tainted, his sense of security tainted.. and his sense of self tainted. If Scrooge freaking mcduck can get blindsighted like this, just how powerful is his former friend? 

And we soon see Scrooge’s own fears manifest as Bradford hyjacks the robot, revealing this was, naturally him.. as of COURSE it was the guy who was revealed to be an evil mastermind who hates your guts. And because Scrooge didn’t change his password, which cleverly is the sum total of his money hence why it was a mass of numbers, which.. really dude? I don’t like doing it either and don’t change mine up if I can help it but even I did when someone tried hyjacking my spotify account. Yes that happened, I thought it was just a wifi thing, it was not. So yeah turns out Bradford was STILL one step ahead, and thus knew about the defenses and thus trapped Scrooge in them for reasons that will dramatically be revealed at the end of the episode. He also naturally attacks because just like JJ, he’s a crotchety old man whose yelling at our loveable rascals to in a sense, get off his lawn. Granted unlike JJ he’s clearly never came around, but the parallels are there. Point is it’s time for another fight this time using the gravity runes, with Scrooge hitting his despiar event horizon as if FOWL can outhink him on this what hope does he have. But like the rest of his family sans launchpad did for Beakly, Louie helps him through the other side and points out there are things they have they don’t.. and demonstrates as naturally the bulb tech used for the robot is just as irate so Louie tricks it into going after him then does a bin dive, with the massive amount of money destroying the thing and Bradford unable to get Gandra to stop it, so our heroes win... oh and Bradford left the company.. for some reason, because as his investors Scrooge can’t really remove him and I was curious how they’d get him out.. then again Scrooge probably, even as cheap as he is, had security cameras showing Bradford’s little talk with Bulba or any of his various rants as evidence. I mean Scrooge is stingy but he’s not STUPIDLY stingy. it’s the best I got, point is he’s to the wind now and our heroes have one! Except yeah.. the ending of the last segment. 

Lost the Battle, Time to Win the War

In an utterly amazing swerve we find out just what kind of alert Beakly got as the rest of this episodes cast have arrived at the bin and Beakly asks why Scrooge hasn’t answered his phone.. and when Scrooge does Bradford’s plan comes into view: Turns out he locked scrooge in as a DISTRACTION, keeping him in the one place no one could reach him. It also explains why he attacked Scrooge: Besides having the perfect weapon for it and getting to gloat, someone needed to keep him busy while the rest of his operatives finished his master stroke.  Turns out EVERYONE involved with one of the missing mysteries called: Goldie called to gripe about the fountain being gone and Scrooge taking it before she could, the Mervanans called to tell him the harp was swindelded by some eggheads and their good vibes did nothing to save her, we also get to see the pink one in full view which is nice but unimportant, and we get Drake back for a cameo! 

But sadly it’s because he just met Steelbeak for the first time.. again, and Beaky clearly beat the every loving shit out of him as he’s heavily bruised, and took the papers on Solgelo’s Circuit with him

And Gene called to tell them he was being kidnapped as the Blot, now with a fully functioning gauntlet got to him. So to sum it up F.O.W.L. in one night, took all the missing mysteries they’d gathered or found, beat one of their most trusted allies and made their new security system worthless. 

It was an utterly masterful story move: Firmly tying both plots together and confirming FOWL has SOMETHING bigger they want out of them. Some bigger plan, and as the last two weeks proved already knew where they were. Now it’s open war F.O.W.L.’s taken the first shot and hit hard. 

But Scrooge, now with his confidence restored thanks to Louie, instead of backing down, is galvanized: They’ve lost the mysteries they have but if F.O.W.L. wants the rest, their going to have to beat the greatest family of adventurers the world, and probably the multiverse if we’re being honest and yes that includes other versions of this family, has ever known to them first. Sneaking in the shadows, attacking them from behind, striking them while they were at their most vunerable? FOWL was in their element and won this round because of it. But now adventuring, traveling the world, finding rare artifacts lost to time? Now their in the ducks wheelhouse. As Beakly, finally accepting her place in the family and that she’s not alone, proudly states their not ready for them. And so we close on one badass group shot as Dewey tries to lift the sword again only for his siblings to help, minus Louie naturally who still looks on determined. Our heroes have been through their dark night of the soul, they’ve lost a lot and the villians are miles ahead.. but they’ve also come out of it together, determined, their doubts behind them for now, and FOWL firmly in their sights. They won the battle.. but the war’s far from over. Game on. 

Final Thoughts. 

God this was a good one, as you could probably tell from the way I went on and on about it but this was one of the series best.. and while I say that a lot, mostly because Season 3 has consistently been about them topping themselves again and again, this time it’s etched in stone. I thought this would be a good one but forgetable.. instead it’s easily one of the best dives into the cast, and one of the best bottle episodes i’ve seen, limiting the cast to just our heroes, a handful of cameos and our big bad and letting our heroes be their own worst enemies for most of it. IT’s a great character piece, with plenty of great fluid action set pieces, absolutely heartbreaking character stuff, and a hell of an ending that sets the tone for the final half of the season and possibly the series.  It also shut my mouth about the pacing, because as I hoped, much like season 2 it was slow on purpose: The first half, while also providing vital setup here and there, was also about telling stories they really COULDN’T once the FOWL plot kicked into gear for act 2. Getting trapped in a sitcom, a casual breakin of a gala where Donald meets the love of his life, a trip to tokyolk.. none of this would’ve really worked with Fowl at their heels. By taking their time they simply had more time to set the stage so when things kicked up with this act, things could stay intense.. minus the christmas episode but that takes place before these episodes so I don’t really count it. Point is the tone is firmly set, the stakes are high and things are at a level they’ve never been. This is one of the show’s finest and I expect i’ts only going to go higher and higher from here.  Also one last note Bradford, bud.. why did you out Gandra as an agent? You had to have known about the whole Fenton thing, you seem to know everything and a break in to Gyro’s lab would’ve been something Scrooge had to tell you about or you could learn about yourself. They didn’t know she was still evil or working for you or that she was even on their radar. Also related while Steelbeak and Blot’s missions were obvious it was easy to figure out who went where besides them: Heron went under the sea both because she was the odd one out and because Bradford was presumably still mad about the helicopter thing, while Rockerduck obviously took the fountain since he’d been there and knew where it was now it was properly restored.  Next Week: Kidcentric episode and the sabrewing sisters are back! Also while I don’t hate it, Lena’s blueform is simply a super mode.. phew. I mean I don’t dislike it but i’ts not a walk around in public thing. Point is kids teaming up for shenanigans, a mystic sword in the middle of x of swords AND the return of my two faviorite fowl agents. I’m pumped. 

Until then if you like this review there’s more reviews on the pages on my blog including a just finished this weekend review of the original Ducktales 4-parter, Catch as Cash Can. It was a trip. You can find that collected  into a handy series of links HEREEEEEEEEEE. Or if you prefer this series, as I do, you can find last week’s review of Let’s Get Dangerous HERE. If you like this review and want to here my thoughts on say an episode from the first two seasons (which I mostly haven’t covered yet), or another disney show, you can pm me on this very blog to comission an episode, just like one of my fans commissioned me to review catch as cash can. Or you can follow me on my patreon HERE.  Until next week stay safe, vote if your old enough and check your house for Gary Busey! 

[multifacetecl-archive]

@hereticlord​ has reported :  💋     —     FOUR TIMES MY MUSE THOUGHT ABOUT KISSING YOURS AND THE ONE TIME THEY ACTUALLY DID .     /    OPEN .

001 .

“I’m mad at you,” Apple said with a small huff, eyes narrowing at him as fingers worked on wrapping the bandages around his injured arm. They were sitting in the grass, or rather, he was while she sat on a fallen tree to give her a slight height advantage to make her work easier. “That was careless, and stupid, and just because—” A deflated sigh escaped her then, knowing she was wasting her breath; he won’t change. This will be part of his life. And she didn’t want him to change. She just worried. A lot. It was simply in her nature to do so.

He teases her, as he often does, and Apple finds it is hard to stay mad at him. No, she didn’t want him to change. Never. She accepted him, every part of him, even the parts that make her twist with anxiety. “Come here,” she chides, hands catching his face and tilting his head up to face her. Her eyes scan his features, gauging the damages done; a small bruise against his cheek, something she can easily tend to. A few cuts here and there, but they’re not too bad.

Her eyes fall on the split of his lip, and she tutted her tongue. Except, her eyes linger longer than she intended to, and she felt her cheeks burn red when he catches her.

“Try to go a few days before I see you as a patient again, will you?” She said, pushing him away playfully. 

002.

Apple absolutely loathes unnecessary violence, which was what made their relationship — whatever it was — rather ironic. While she lived a pacifist lifestyle, to the best of her ability anyways, he had chaos and the urge for battle coursing through his veins; she can’t figure out if it was simply because he loved the adrenaline, or if it was something deeper than that. But she kept her comments to herself, unless it was violence done in her name.

Though, admittedly, Childe had plenty of reasons to worry — how many treasure hunter camps has she walked into, throwing herself in danger, for the act of healing. Knowing that they can just as easily hurt her as easily as she trusted them.

“Childe, I can’t breathe,” Apple protests, arms held out at her side before fingers moved to his shoulders and she shoved gently at him. He was holding her so tight, it was almost as if he was afraid. The idea of anyone worrying about her well being was beyond her, which was so hard to believe, given how beloved the traveling doctor was to most. But she comes from a place where . . . People hated her for the reasons the people of Liyue adored her. And it was the opinions of home that leaves her damaged.

He finally releases her, ruffles her hair, and she pulls back and looks up at him. Heart hammering in her chest, she smiled at him, catching his hand and holding it to her chest. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” 

003.

She never forgot the way Childe held her that day at the domain. The color of his aura when he found her, bound, amongst a bunch of hoarders despite her pure intentions of helping them. That was simply in her nature, it was her legacy. Her dying right. The history of her people has taught her that she was nothing but fodder to the Gods. A being meant to sacrifice themselves to the beasts that once terrorized Teyvat and bring peace to their slumbers so the people of the world can have one less catastrophe to behold.

Bone Witches were made with despair, revenge, and self-sacrifice. She was made by the woes of her fallen sisters, centuries in the past, to uphold their heavy burden once more. Sometimes she dreams of a woman from centuries ago, crying over her, pitying her poor great granddaughter whom she tried to save from her same fate.

Apple never learned the meaning of self-preservation until that day. It never, ever, ever occurred to her that she was seen as someone cherished and precious. Cared for enough that they would cling to her in such a way. Sure, anyone else would have saved her, but it was a matter of morals, not affection.

Pacifistic ideations aside, there’s a small sense of pride at the look of shock that comes from the archer. Electro sparks and hops off of her blade, the hirichurl that had charged at her sent flying into the cliffside. She will fight, rather than accept her fate. Rather than fear and wonder if she will one day meet Death like she has not been tempting him and silently hoping to be relieved from her responsibilities.

She had forgotten the rush of adrenaline when her metal sings with every strike of sword. When they’re done, the electro swordswoman practically throws herself at him. “Did you see me? Bet you never thought I can do that, huh?” She sing-songed, arms wrapped around his neck. She pulls back, and their faces are inches apart. 

She’s forgotten what it looks like to have someone proud of her.

004.

“Did . . . Did you see . .. ?” 

Apple’s voice wavered, and it was clear that she was fighting back the tears that threatened to pool in her coppery gaze. Her back was turned to him, shoulders stiff and raised as if she was trying to recoil into herself, like a turtle in its shell. It was a stupid question, of course he did. Why else would he be here? Have followed her? Most people here were good at minding their own business, even when something like that happens for everyone to see.

“Stay away from him, you — you monster! I thought we saw the last of you! You’ll curse us, you should have joined your sisters!” The words spoken from the woman from her home village stung more than the slap across her cheek and the soreness of her back from when she was shoved into the moat of water. She had thought the little, lost boy she was helping looked familiar. She could tell by his clothes that he was of Inazuma origins, but she didn’t think that he was the grandson of one of the elders of her village that had, almost literally, chased her out of her own home.

Not that would have stopped her. Knowing it’d end up like this, she would never leave a boy to wander by himself through Liyue harbors, with its maze like design.

Turning to face Childe, the sight before him was absolutely heart breaking. Her lips were curved in their usual smile, still filled with warmth and care and love. But she was crying. Tears flowed from her eyes, even though they were clenched shut in a desperate attempt to keep them in.

“Please tell me you didn’t see. You didn’t hear.  I don’t want —” . . . I don’t want you to hate me, too.

Apple remembers sobbing then, as he pulls her in silently. She’s grateful he doesn’t comment on the show that was so graciously provided to the citizens of Liyue. Just offers her the comfort she needed to hear, and was too afraid to ask for. When she calmed down enough and he offered to treat her out to help lift her spirits, all she wanted to do was kiss him.

Even if she meant something to him, and not in the way he did to her, it was all she could think about the rest of the night. But the many sweets she indulged on was enough. 

005.

To say that Apple knew no fear would be the farthest thing from the truth. She knew fear. It was not in the form of her own well-being, though that was something she was starting to work on. But it was in the form of the well-being of others. The people she cared about. Deeply. She knew fear in the form of failure. In the form of abandonment. One would think that, someone who was as pure - hearted as she was, would harbor a hatred for those who were meant for darkness—willingly or not. One would think that she would side herself with the good, and yet, here she was. 

The chaos and havoc is thick in the air, it was almost  nauseating to someone who was so sensitive to auras and the dark. She picks her way through the masses of bodies, hands clutched to her chest, as her eyes scan the corpses around her, steps hasty and almost timid.

Apple is no stranger to the dead. But if there was something she feared: it was this draw she seemed to have to them. Her vision glows, and her hand rises to cover it, clenching it tight in her grasp. “Don’t—” she whispers to herself, mouth dry. Dark magic churns in the pits of her stomach, calling out to the bodies around her.

Bone Witch, the souls of the dead call out for her, and she does her best not to answer. All it would take to raise an army of the dead is to raise her finger in the air and a rune for its namesake to be drawn in the air. The Foul Legacy had left her an army to her disposal, if she so wished.

“There you are . . .” Came a breath of relief when she finally catches up to Childe. Though . . . She wasn’t sure if that is who she should call him. She is unbothered and equally unfazed by the gore that stains his skin, or the inhuman glow of his hypnotic gaze.

It’s voice is almost hypnotic as It speaks at her. Speaks her name in a voice that was both Childe’s but not at the same time. Like an echo in a cave, the voices fill her brain. “Do you hate me too?” It seems to ask, mocking her with the words she was afraid to speak that night in Liyue. 

She surprises It with a small laugh, hand moving to stifle the sound with the bend of her knuckle. It’s a little funny to her, and she knows she shouldn’t laugh. Her hating him . . . Would make her just as bad as her people. Who hated her for something she could not control. Apple understands now, why she has this draw to him. Felt a likeness she has never felt with anyone else before.

There’s more confidence in her steps as she approaches, though a small falter of slight annoyance that size is, as always, an obstacle. But, she makes do and stops before It. Fingers find the fabric of their scarf, and she pulls them down. The kiss is rather gentle for something filled with havoc and blood, and when she pulls way from It, copper on her tongue, her eyes locks with Its purple.

“Never,” she answers it, soft and sweet. She can never come to hate him, no matter what side of him stands before her. 

[lordofthetrashbin]

Creature au

This has been bouncing in my head for so long but I haven’t figured out everything so i’m going to work on what I got.

Warning: Mentions of death, talk of people being eaten(Cannibalism? They’re humanoid monsters so i think it counts) , some implied suicidal intentions in Roman’s and Remus’s part which I marked it with a *** so you can skip it if you’d like. I don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds but i’d rather be safe then sorry.

Anyway

There’s this enchanted forest that lays on the border generic kingdom? place not really important to the story. This forest is split directly in half, one side beautiful and bright straight(Ha) out of a story book while the other half is dark and twisted, full of nightmares.

It doesn’t really matter what side you try to go through, few people are ever leave and when they do they’re either exhausted from being chased my monsters or dazed with only having a blurry memory of grinning faces and dances from the night before.

The only real way through the forest is in the gray normal area between the light and dark but even that’s dangerous from the creatures that hang around there.

Let’s get to the bois~

Roman & Remus: Guardian spirits of the forest(And the reason it’s split in two.)

They sort of have a bet going on which side of the forest can claim more people.

Normally when someone enters a forest of death they’re trying to get out the other side or not to get out at all. Of course, there are always those nasty “monster” hunters but they never last long once they’ve caught either of the twin's eye.

They could just let travels pass safely through the gray zone but what's the fun in that? Due to their bet, they both try and lure people in.

Roman normally uses flattery or bribery, he has grand parties that tempt people to join him in dance. Of course, once he’s done he’ll guide them to the other side of the forest and let them continue on their way but there have been times where people didn’t want to leave and who is he to refuse them?

Remus has found that his brand of flattery normally doesn’t work in his favor(unless he has a certain snake to help him) so he normally has to scare people into his side. He’s not technically allowed to hurt anyone in the gray but most people don’t know this, with some well placed illusions that block off Roman’s side has people fleeing into the darkness. A good chase is always welcomed and with him on their heels, he can guide them to the other side no problem except for the times he accidentally lured people into some dangerous flora but who’s counting

*** Of course, there are people who come into the forest with no intention of leaving. Remus tends to get these people more but Roman occasionally greets them, All they can do is offer these people a new life, they may not be Human anymore but the forest and it’s inhabitants welcome them.

(Fun dates for Roman include: Grand parties, dancing, moonlit walks.)

(Fun date for Remus include: Running for your life together, sparring, him trying to get eaten by plants.)

Logan: Unicorn Centaur

One of the last of his kind.

He was being chased across the countryside after his small herd was captured by hunters, Unicorns are very valuable after all and he had just barely escaped but still had hunters in pursuit of him. The small kindness of a young girl is the only thing that kept him safe, she hid him as the hunters passed by her town and then pointed him to the forest which she said had other centaurs like him.

When he arrived he chose to enter the lighter side, almost immediately greeted by a very excited Roman who had never met a unicorn before. His forest had centaurs but none were unicorns much to Logan’s disappointment.

Still, he was offered safety and a home that he couldn’t refuse. He now lives by the river near the gray area, being bothered all the time by his friends some persistent annoyances.

He has no ill will towards humans but will usually avoid them, on occasion though he will walk the path along the gray border with someone if they seem a bit young to be passing through on their own.

(Fun dates include: Relaxing by the river, long talks about local flora, maybe a ride on his back if you’re super duper lucky.)

Patton: Swan Maiden (Was once human.)

He was a traveler that didn’t really know what the forest was, he just saw beautiful trees and flowers that seemed to glow and wondered in completely unaware.

Imagine his surprise when a very handsome forest prince welcomes him offers him a wonderful time and the gay panicked mess that he was couldn’t refuse. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the sunlight on the other side of the forest with barely any memory of the night before and a deep longing somewhere in his heart.

He goes to move on, considers himself lucky to alive but a year later he’s back and entering the forest again, Roman greets him with a grin and he finally remembers a night of dancing and making friends with people that accepted him with no problem. This time when the night is over, Patton asks to stay. He feels more at home than he ever had before and wasn’t looking forward to being alone on the road again. Roman gives him the choice of remaining human or truly joining the forest as something else.

Patton has time to choose, spending years living in the forest and making friends with creatures on both sides of the gray path before he makes his choice.

He half expected it to be painful but Roman just pulls him into the water and he hears both the wind and river singing for him as Roman drapes a coat lined with feathers around his shoulders. He excepted to change but he still feels the same even as his body changes and he spreads his wings.

(Fun dates include: Swimming, exploring the forest, you can pet his feathers if he trusts you enough.)

Virgil: Drider (Or Arachne but I like Drider)

He wasn’t born in the forest but grew up in it with some of his siblings after their mother's nest was set on fire by humans. He doesn’t blame the humans for it though since they were kinda eating some villagers.

Grew up near the edge of the dark side of the forest because his siblings stayed there to lure people in but eventually when they were all adults and started hating each other as most spider folk do, he moved and built a web deeper in the forest next to the gray path much to Remus’s delight and Roman’s displeasure.

Half his nest is burrowed underground and if someone doesn’t stay on the path around his area they are very likely to fall into one of his trap holes which he finds hilarious when it doesn’t scare the fuck out of him to see someone drop from the ceiling.

Away from his siblings, Virgil found himself eating fewer humans, Whither that’s because of a very human Patton dropping in(Accidentally the first time but eventually on purpose) to make falling related puns or because Roman would send deer into his web regularly in hopes of filling him is anyone’s guess.

He eventually moves his nest under the bridge that leads the gray path over the river. Mostly because Patton starts to live in the river once he’s no longer human and being this close he can bug the cute unicorn dude that’s pretty much his neighbor. Also can maybe scare some poor folk crossing the bridge, who knows

(Fun dates include: Relaxing in his web, him making sweaters for you out of his silk, harassing Roman.)

Deceit: Naga

Mysteriously showed up out of nowhere, neither of the twins knows how he got into the forest without them knowing and it drives Roman wild which leads to Remus welcoming him into the dark side with open arms.

He gives a different excuse each time he’s asked. “A harpy dropped me from the sky.” “I followed the underground tunnels the mole people left.” “I was just a normal snake until the accident accrued.”

He likes to play with the humans that wander into the forest, takes too much pleasure in teasing those that accidentally follow him in too deep. He usually leaves them back where they came from but he has a knack for finding hunters before they get in far and leading them into traps before they can harm anyone.

Deceit is one of the only reasons Remus is tied with Roman for luring people into the forest.

He lives in an abandoned burrow deeper in the forest but he’s only ever in it when it starts getting colder, otherwise he sneaks into Virgil’s nest to nap in all his soft silks and furs.

(Fun dates include: Sunbathing, cuddling while wrapped up in his tail, Him occasionally threatening to eat you.)

[nordic-breeze]

Curiosity Killed the Cat They Say – but Hardly is it Mentioned That Satisfaction Brought it Back - an ArthurxFemaleReader OneShot

Arthur catches you poking around in his tent. AO3

WC: 1912

Chop-chop-chop. One more. Chop-chop. And another. It never ends. For the last two weeks, you’ve cut, sliced and chopped more than you thought was humanly possible and you wonder if the chop-chop sound is going to haunt you in your sleep. You tip the cutting board to a 45-degree angle, chucking hacked potatoes into the cauldron with the help of the knife. Before moving onto onions, your least favorite vegetable because of how they burn your eyes, you allow yourself a break. You arch your back and stretch your neck, feeling the summer breeze gently caressing your face. You rub your lower back with light circles, a small grunt escaping your lips.

“It’s a glamorous life eh, the life of an outlaw.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you turn to the source of the sardonic but benevolent comment.

“So it seems.”

Despite your short time with the van der Linde gang, Tilly had already become a close friend. The best friend you’ve had to be honest. You’re close to Karen and Mary-Beth as well, but with Tilly, you could share anything.

“At least we’re off that mountain,” the young woman smiles, adding dirty plates to the basin. “For a moment there, I was sure we would all freeze to death.”

You agree. After the hasted escape from Blackwater, for what exact reasons you weren’t entirely sure, and being trapped for days in the mountains up west, at a place called Colter or something thanks to a badly timed snowstorm, arriving at Horseshoe Overlook had felt like entering paradise.

Your gaze wanders the new camp site. It’s quiet today. Little Jack Marston is poking at the ground with a stick on the small patch of grass outside Dr. Strauss’ tent with Abigail watching over him. You feel for the boy and wish he had someone his age to play with. Behind young Marston you see the silhouette of Molly overlooking the canyon, no doubt wondering where Dutch has gone off to, light summer breeze playing with her red hair. The aforementioned doctor is sitting in the shade, jotting down notes in one of his many ledgers. Reverend Swanson is still sleeping off last night’s intoxication. You spot Karen and Mary-Beth across the camp, doing laundry under the scrutinizing gaze of Ms. Grimshaw. Lenny’s on guard duty again. You wave at him, which he returns. Behind him, the newest surprise member of your little group, Kieran Duffy, is attending to the remaining horses. From the corner of your eye, you see Mr. Morgan mounting his horse, getting ready to leave the camp site. Had it been only a few days ago, the sight would’ve brought you relief. Ever since you joined the van der Lindes a few days before Christmas last year, you’ve been wary of Dutch’s enforcer and right-hand man, seeing him as crude, ruthless and mean. But as of late, you’ve begun to notice things. Like Jack’s liking of the man and the fondness in his voice when he talks to his horse. You have no problem spotting an animal lover when you see one and Mr. Morgan undoubtedly cares deeply for his horse. And when you and the other girls had joined Bill and Mr. Morgan for a visit into town last week, he’d been so kind to the one-armed war veteran when he thought no one saw or heard. Had you been misjudging him all these months? Your eyes remain glued to the person of interest as he disappears in-between the tree tops.

“He ain’t as bad as he seems, , he’s just - he is a good man. Beneath it all.”

Tilly’s comment catches you off-guard. You’d almost forgotten she was there. Had your eye-tracking been that obvious. You feel a slight tingle in your cheeks and mumble something that’s supposed to be brushing the whole thing off as nothing, making it even more obvious it’s anything but.

“Break’s over, ladies. Back to work.”

Pearson’s gruff voice startles you and you cuss yourself for getting lost in our thoughts, making you a target. You roll your eyes at your friend who gives you an acknowledging grin as you pick two onions for the cutting board.

“You still up for Dominoes later?”

“You bet. And this time, it’s my turn to win,” you insist with a cheeky grin as you and pick up the knife, bracing yourself for the inevitable eye-burn.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that if I was you.”

Kitchen duty over and done with, you go to your spot in the girl’s tent for a rest, letting the warm sun kiss your skin. Your mind, and eyes, wanders to Mr. Morgan and his tent. You’d barely spoken to him but as of late, you’ve been thinking about him more than you care to admit. As you’ve come to see a soft and kind side of this gruff and hardened outlaw you find yourself wanting to talk to him but try as you may you can’t seem to find the courage to strike up a conversation, nor do you know what to say. You’ve always been a timid soul, and Morgan’s coarse nature doesn’t exactly help. Recently you’ve asked the others about him. Hosea, Jack, Tilly and Lenny mostly. There was no lack of stories, denoting a complex and possibly conflicted man capable of both cruelty and kindness alike. This did nothing to settle your curiosity, quite the contrary.

Before you know it, you’re on your feet. You tell yourself you’re just going for a stroll to enjoy the view. You just so happen to be passing by Morgan’s tent. You halt, eyes circling the green tarp, remembering Morgan riding off earlier that day. You’re tempted to look around. You know you shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of you. Maybe you’ll find something that could give you an excuse to strike up a conversation. So, in an effort to know him better, you enter the tarpaulin to have a look around, thinking he’ll be gone all day. You are wrong.

You start by studying the pictures and horseshoe above his cot. You recognize Dutch and Hosea from many years ago and a man in his late teens or early twenties that’s likely a young Arthur Morgan. You see a mugshot of a man you presume is his father and a picture of a dog. On the counter behind the cot you spot a newspaper clip, which you read, and a picture of a beautiful, dark-haired woman. On the nightstand you find a small, sealed-up glass container, a picture of his mother, cigarettes and hair pomade. The latter surprises you. The tent’s owner doesn’t strike you as the type who would care for that sort of thing. You pick up the container. Inside is a flower with pinkish-red petals. Mr. Morgan is just full of surprises, isn’t he? You lose track of how long you’re standing there, in the midst of Arthur Morgan’s tent, mesmerized by the flower, pondering its meaning to the owner when you hear a gruff voice behind you.

“Lookin’ for something?”

The unmistakable voice belongs to the last person you wanted to hear from right now, resulting in you dropping the sealed box. The sound it makes as it hits the nightstand and falls to the ground makes you cringe and you’re stuck frozen, not knowing if you should pick it up or just bolt. Choosing the latter would only make the situation worse. You barely dare to look in Morgan’s direction.

Both hands on his gun belt, Arthur shoots you that glare under the rim of his hallmark black hat as he’s waiting for you to speak. The words get stuck in your throat. You have no excuse, absolutely no reason for being in here. And you’re still weighing back and forth whether you should pick up that box or not. Dammit, why couldn’t it just have fallen back on the nightstand. Arthur takes one slow step towards you, effectively blocking your escape route.

“Heard you been askin’ questions ‘bout me,” he confronts in that low, half threatening, low-key growling tone of his. “Something’s on your mind, miss?”

Not knowing how to get out of this predicament and no one coming to bail you out you see no other way than telling him the truth. No way you can come up with a believable lie in your state of mind.

“I deeply apologize, Mr. Morgan.” You start rambling, staring down at your hands, unable to hide the tremors in your voice. “It’s just that I thought, when I-I saw how kind you were to that soldier from the war and I-”

Noticing Arthur further closing the distance between you two, you stop rambling, further lowering your head. Just tell him it like it is, fast.

“I-I think- I thought I may have misjudged you and I –“ feeling your knees about to give in, you pause to take a deep breath, your cheeks a burning red.

“Last few days I have really wanted to talk to you but I-I never knew what to say so I thought I’d just look around here and maybe I learn a little more about you, Mr. Morgan.”

By now, Arthur’s face has softened noticeably but you’re oblivious as you still don’t dare to look at him.

"I didn’t mean to invade your personal space, Mr. Morgan. I mean, I just did and, and for that, I am so sorry. I-I know it was wrong of me. Please, don’t be mad.”

Arthur feels a stab of guilt for making you so uncomfortable - and also more than a little flattered that you show such interest in him though he can’t quite understand why.

“You know, you could’ve just asked.”

“Yes Mister, I know.”

Reassurance has never been his strong suit. He’s thinking of how to best assure you that he’s not mad, but the noticeably softer tone in his voice is all the assurance you need. You both concurrently crouch to pick up the box with the flower, resulting in your heads colliding, making an already tense situation even more awkward. A choir of mutual apologies ensue. Arthur puts his hand on your elbow, lending his support as you both rise.

“Oh, leave her be, Arthur. She didn’t mean no harm.”

Finally someone intervenes! Arthur turns to Tilly, giving you a chance to flee, oblivious to Tilly hinting in a not-so-discreetly manner that Arthur goes after you.

You hide behind dense vegetation and sit down on a log near the cliffside, mentally cussing yourself out. Your hands are trembling. No way you could ever look Mr. Morgan in the eyes after this. A shadow to your left makes you lift your head from your palms, hoping it's Tilly coming to offer her moral support. It's not.

“I, eh, Miss Jackson thought I should - I, um, mind if I sit?”

You shrug, not knowing how else to respond. As Arthur sits down, your heart picks up pace. You realize you’ve never been this close to him before. Save from that head-bump a moment ago that is.

“I wasn’t really mad at ya, miss. Lord knows I go ‘round poking my nose in other people’s personal belongings too.”

You feel a little bit better. No, a whole lot better. You give him a coy smile. How had you not notice before how pretty his eyes are? Your companion returns your gawky beam.

“So, what ya wanna know?”

[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward: Chapter 7

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Obiyuki AU Bingo Regency AU

Obi had been barely more than a boy when he’d put his back to Wistal, the only home he’d ever known halfway worth the name, and followed the ache in his chest north. North, to snows and stone, to warm furs and cold nights, to the girl who shone as clear as the stars above Lyrias, and was just as far out of his reach.

He’d missed it then; those months at the palace were an endless summer, a respite in a life that could only be describe in the kindest terms as a tumult. He’d missed warm breeze and sweet wine, the long rambling strolls Miss had dragged him on, the sweat on his skin after another spar with Kiki and Sir.

He doesn’t remember when it stopped. One day he’d longed for Wistal, and the next day -- the next day Lyrias was home.

Obi’s been back in the palace for two days, and already he’s got a short list of reasons why he can’t wait to put his back to it again. Number one would be this buzzing behind his brow; a tension that won’t break no matter how much he ignores it.

Number two would be these buckskins, which still cling to him like they’re painted on and threaten to tear with ever step. Heaven forfend he drops something on the floor; no matter how much of a master this maestro is, there’s no way the seams would do anything but give up the ghost the second he more to any attitude that wasn’t upright. That he made it through lunch was a miracle.

Number three would be everything else involved with this whole con, starting and ending with Izana Wisteria and his plans.

Yori leaps to his feet when Obi flings open the door to his chambers, dark eyes darting nervously over his shoulder, out into the hall, as if at any point he’s expecting Obi to produce yet another royal sibling from thin air as his dearest companion.

Obi can’t blame him; with the number of royal family members and retinue that’s paraded around him the last few days, he can only imagine the boy’s letters back home have seemed more fiction than fact. Oh, wouldn’t Morel love to hear how the prince stood up for his lord at his wedding. He’d break out the good brandy for news like that.

He huffs out a laugh. At least someone will be happy with the arrangement.

“M-my lord!” Yori yelped. “May I --?”

“What do you wear to a marriage meeting?”

That stops his valet in his tracks, blinking at him like he’s just walked from a dark room into the sun. “Sir?”

Ah, right, this isn’t -- it’s not a marriage meeting. That would be Master’s garden stroll with Miss Kiki, or even the leisurely tour of Pavilion Street he had taken with Knight-dono’s too-accommodating sister. This wasn’t about compatibility, about liking each other --

Oh no, they were far beyond things like that. This was about contracts, about trickery with words.

“I mean, a...a contract meeting, for marriage,” he clarifies, which only stymies Yori further. “You know, legal stuff.”

“But, sir,” Yori presses, brow furrowed with far more thought than the situation warrants. “Shouldn’t you have handled that at your engagement?”

The words, “My what?” burst from him before he can think better of it.

“Your engagement,” Yori says, as if he is being obtuse. “To the Mistress.”

Good thing His Majesty wants him as a lord, he’s clearly losing his edge as a spy. “The Mistress? You mean my mistress?”

“Isn’t that who you are marrying?” His valet stares him down in consternation. “How don’t you --? Oh!” He raised a hand to his mouth, face flushing a painful red. “I’m sorry, my lord, I forgot --”

That I am your boss? Obi just manages to keep down.

“--That you weren’t, well, you know...” Yori lowers his voice to a whisper. “A lord then.”

“Oh.” Obi blinks. That is...a fortuitous twist to this. “Yes. That’s...true. I would not have been. When I...”

When he proposed to Miss, before he left to collect his esteemed reward. Which he hadn’t, because she had been with Master. Which none of his staff knew because -- because --

He’s been so obvious. His chest feels three sizes too tight just thinking about it. If they had seen it, then what had His Majesty --?

“You might have told Mrs Carre what you were about,” Yori informs him primly, hands setting on his hips. “She had been hoping for a wedding at Cacciatore.”

“Had she?” he muttered, wishing there was some convenient furniture to lean on. Of course, he’d told them -- and they had all called her -- and Mrs Carre had asked were Miss would sleep --

“And don’t you leave me to tell her, my lord,” his valet warned. “She’ll take a strip out of me for letting it happen! And --”

“The question, Yori --” Obi sweeps a hand to the wardrobe -- “is what do I wear?”

“Oh!” His man considers him for a long moment. “Something comfortable.” He hurries over to the wardrobe with a grimace. “It’s my understanding these take...time.”

Obi let out a sigh. “I’m sure that will be an understatement.”

Shidnote is waiting for him when he swings open the door, luxuriating in the jamb with a casual lean. He lifts those angled eyebrows of his, and Obi can feel his blood pressure spike.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks --

And Obi slams the door shut again.

“I do know where His Majesty’s study is,” Obi grouses as they take yet another turn through the halls. “I don’t need a guide.”

Shidnote’s mouth take a bend that Obi can only qualify as annoying, and he says, “Funny, seems Izana thinks that if he left you to your own devices, you’d throw yourself out the nearest window.”

Obi hunches, glowering at him with an intensity that had caused more than a few men of his -- albeit, brief -- acquaintance to suddenly find other countries to be in.

Shidnote just laughs.

Fine. His Majesty and Shidnote and the rest of their set can believe what they like -- the scrawny boy prickling with knives that volunteered himself into Master’s service would have done just that, would have thrown himself off the nearest balcony any made for any port leading away from Clarines -- but Obi...

He hasn’t been hovering around Makiri’s inner circle to learn nothing. He certainly has more of a working notion about arranged marriages involve, and Miss --

Well, he might make his escape, but he knows right where Miss would end up too.

“Don’t look so sour.” Shidnote grins in his infuriatingly rakish way. “I’m not here to bring you.” He jerks his head down the hall. “She is.”

They turn the last corner, and Her Majesty awaits, a slim hand pressed to her round belly, radiant.

“I’m afraid, Sir Obi,” she murmured softly, a smile softly curling her lips. “You’ll have to suffer being waylaid one last time.”

“Well.” His mouth is so dry he doesn’t know how he manages to speak. “This seems like it will be more pleasant than any of the others.”

Shidnote let out bark of a laugh. “Well, that just shows how little you know her.”

To her credit, Her Majesty does not bully him into some side room or direct him toward some cleverly laid detour, timed perfectly to allow her to discuss what she wishes. Instead, she wraps one delicate hand around his elbow, and guides him into a walk slow enough for snails to pass.

Shidnote falls in behind them, taking great care to pretend they’re going at a normal pace. Obi takes his cue that he should do the same, putting on the expression of a man quite enjoying a leisurely stroll, and not a knight vaguely concerned that his queen will trip if he walks faster than a crawl.

“I take it that you’ve never done this before,” Her Majesty asks, somehow making even a question sound like a matter of fact. He wonders whether this was a skill she had in Lyrias as well, honed to a point, or if this is part of His Majesty’s influence. Maybe both; an inclination only bearing fruit now that it’s been suitably encouraged.

Obi grimaces. This is treading dangerously close to speculating about their bedroom, and any dog knows better than to chase rabbits into their warrens.

“Been married?” It’s a better answer than, walked to His Majesty’s study? Rumor has it that Her Majesty has a sense of humor, but Obi isn’t about to bet his head on hearsay.

“I would never presume to know that much of you,” Her Majesty demures.

Ah, so she is funny. He would have never thought His Majesty the type.

“I meant a contract,” Her Majesty clarifies. “Certainly whatever your...marital status before, you hadn’t needed a clerical representative involved.”

He blinks. “Well, I signed one when I started working for Master.”

“Oh?” Her delicate brows lift.

Shidnote grunts in surprised, “Did you read it?”

Obi grimaces. Therein lies the rub, as these noble types say. “Ah...mostly.”

He’d at least read the part about being paid and having food and accommodations provided. Those had been the important bits, after all. And even though he may not have known Master, not really, he’d seemed trustworthy enough. More than any of his previous employers, at least.

“Mostly?” Shidnote shrills; an overreaction when everything turned out just fine. “You didn’t even--?”

Her Majesty holds up a hand, drawing the knight’s words up short. “There is not enough time to discuss Marquis Conti’s questionable business practices.”

It takes him what feels like a whole minute to realize she’s talking about him. “Hey, that’s not --”

“What is more pressing now is that you do not cede ground once we are in negotiations,” she tells him, firm. “No matter how tempted you may be.”

“Cede ground?” he echoes as Shidnote steps ahead, reaching for the handles to His Majesty’s study. “Negotiations? We?”

Her Majesty smiles gently, patting his arm. “Just leave everything to me, Sir Obi.”

The thing about informal negotiations when they involved royals was: they always formal. Obi might be able to dress down, just wearing his usual shirt and trousers, so long as they didn’t have holes -- that Yori could find, at least -- but they still have to wait for an official announcement to be made, and for His Majesty to graciously accept them into his presence.

“You’d think being his wife would get you past all this red tape,” Obi mutters, before he can think better of it. “Do you have to do this for bed, too?”

It takes him only a moment to realize what he said -- what he was asking -- and in a fit of blind panic, he hopes she hasn’t heard.

“My husband and I usually enter his bedchamber together,” she tells him conversationally, as if he had only asked her about the weather, or the menu for luncheon. She catches his gaze from the corner of her eyes, and her mouth tips in a sly cant. “The thing about rules, Sir Obi, is that there is usually a way to confound them. If you are creative enough.”

“He says you can come in,” Shidnote tells them, leaning out the doors. “Guess the royal couch isn’t too comfortable.”

Obi stares, but Her Majesty only smiles. “My husband is far too wise to ever find out.”

Shidnote lets out a bark of a laugh and throws open the doors. Obi takes a breath as he steps inside, and --

Oh, he is -- he’s not ready for this.

Yori might have dressed him for comfort, but Miss -- Miss looks stunning, her hair pulled back into a tail and laid carefully over a shoulder, her gown cut just as Her Majesty’s, only somehow, when she wears it, it seems --

“Sir Obi,” Her Majesty murmurs, tapping her fingers lightly on his forearm. “Please remember, we are not to cede ground.”

He swallows. Right, of course. He leads the queen over to her seat, sitting beside her, and dares another look at his miss.

Their eyes meet.

His heart sinks to somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. Cede ground? Her Majesty doesn’t need to worry about details like that.

Not when he’s going to serve his heart up on a platter.

A clerk sits at His Majesty’s desk, sandy-haired and squirrelly, a single long finger tap-tap-tapping as Their Majesties speak. Without the king behind it, the room seems -- tilted, wrong, as if Obi’s walked straight through a looking glass to the other side. Without His Majesty’s presence, the man is just a body in the chair, a puppet slouched and awaiting a hand to move it.

Obi jolts upright. Thinking like that...makes it sound as if he likes the king.

Now there’s a sobering thought. Hopefully, he’ll never have cause to have it again.

The clerk shifts in the chair, switching his finger for his pen as he waits for Their Majesties to get on with the negotiation. Obi agrees; if he has to hear another dissertation on the precise nature of is, he’ll negotiate himself right out the window. Miss too, for good measure. They could both skip the country; sail straight across the sea to Viande, or maybe even paddle out to Ivora.

Anything but this.

He sneaks a glance at Miss, watching the way her eyes glass over, staring sightlessly out the great windows before them, and he thinks she might go for it, might gleefully take his hand and leap --

If we leave you alone, Kiki’s voice wryly reminds him, Shirayuki will find some way to get you to elope.

Her jerks his gaze away, dragging it back to -- to somewhere safer. Somewhere he’s not tempted to think about that.

The clerk seems safe enough. Obi squints. “Have we met?”

The man nearly drops his pen. “Excuse me?”

He takes in the artful swept hair, the lazily aristocratic face. “You look familiar.”

“Obi.” Her Majesty lays a quelling hand on his arm, voice hardly louder than a murmur. “It’s bad manners to harass the help.”

“The duration of the marriage before legal rights.” His Majesty’s voice is too loud, now that Obi’s thoughts aren’t drowning it out. His legs cross languidly at the knees, giving the air of a careless lounge, as if he were entirely bored of this conversation he’s been dragging out for what seems like hours.

Obi glances at the clock. A half hour. He has died, and this is purgatory.

“Can we agree upon that?” His Majesty’s eyebrows lift in question, although his smile says that he already knows the answer. “Five years minimum.”

“Five years?” Obi yelps, darting a helpless look at Miss. She won’t meet his eyes, her body twisted away, face flushed and chin tucked down as if the giant globe between them is the most riveting part of the room.

“I believe,” Her Majesty drawls, shooting him a warning glance, “that Conti finds the duration too long.”

Forever would be less than enough, but Miss --

Miss’s heart doesn’t leap when he enters the room, doesn’t wonder how close she can come without him pulling away. She doesn’t compose words in advance so she won’t show more of her feelings than is welcome. She doesn’t love him.

Obi can’t stop this marriage, but he can make sure she’s not in it for any longer than she needs to be.

“One year,” he creaks out. “One year and she can go.”

Her Majesty turns to him, soft. “Obi,” she sighs, resting her hand on his. His fingers flex, only just managing to keep flat against his thigh. He’s not use to it, to gentleness. “You cannot pick so short a time. You may be a man in love, but you are a marquis, and she is no-one.”

“She’s everything,” he snaps, and oh, the way Miss is looking at him, so lost --

“If I were in love, I mean.” Every word is like a kick to the ribs. “I’d think she was everything.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Her Majesty meets his eyes; he’s grateful, it’s a safer place to keep his gaze than Miss. “But Tanbarun will have suspicions.”

Obi couldn’t care less what Tanbarun thinks, what anyone thinks, but --

But he has to. The king has to believe that Miss is well and truly married, or else all of this is for nothing.

“Two years,” Her Majesty proposes. “And entitled to half his properties and income, should the marriage fail after that time.”

Miss surges forward in her chair. “I don’t want any of that. Please.”

His Majesty shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes with two fingers. “Lady Shirayuki, I understand the sentiment, but do you think Shenezard will believe that your feelings have eclipsed your pragmatism?”

Miss sat back, eyeing the king warily. “I suppose...no.”

“Quite.” He fixes her with a look laden with meaning, and Obi wonders if they had exchange words before his arrival, too. “And even if you were too overcome, your bridegroom would doubtlessly wish for you to be seen to, even if a parting was...inamicable.”

She shrunk back, cheeks flush. “Oh.”

“Three,” His Majesty offers, louder, a counter-proposal. “Enough to seem incautious, but not so much to be foolish. A man blinded by love, confident in the match.”

Three years. Shorter than they were even in Lyrias. But it’s also forever, if his miss is unhappy.

He looks to her now, mouth too dry to manage more than, “Miss...?”

“I...” She glances at him from the corner of her yes, cheeks painfully red. “That would be agreeable. For Entaepode.”

“For you,” His Majesty corrects, so gently. “Two months ago, you would have had no inkling of your new position. It should be a surprise, even now.”

“Oh,” she breathes, small beside him. “Right.”

“Three years and half his titles and properties,” the clerk repeats, his fastidious voice a bucket of water upon the proceedings. “Should I add a proviso about lessening the amount, if she comes into her own fortune?”

“No.” His Majesty shakes his head. “They would not have any idea of Lady Shirayuki’s...sudden windfall.”

“They do know that Shirayuki’s father had been disinherited,” Her Majesty mentions, as if it were merely a curiosity, and not the basis of yet another debate. Her pale eyes spark as they meet her husband’s and Obi settles in for the long haul. “So it would not be out of the realm of possibility that Sir Obi might have considered his wife’s potential status, if he was a pragmatic man. Or perhaps...optimistic.”

Or ambitious is what she doesn’t say, but Obi can hear it loud and clear in the silence.

His Majesty straightens in his seat, mouth curling at a corner in pleasant anticipation. “We have already stated that the man in question is in love to the point of incaution. To leave the door open for shrewdness might lead to speculation.”

“However he is in the employ of the royal family of Clarines,” she counters, leaning ever so slightly closer. “Or, more accurately, he was before his elevation. And it has never been said that the king of Clarines hires fools.”

“An excellent point,” His Majesty allows, “though it will take more than flattery to cause one to forget that even a clever man may have too much pride in his intuition.”

“You make my point for me, husband,” Her Majesty nearly purrs. “For could not a man be blinded to his love’s ambition but not his own?”

The room is getting entirely too warm. “Wife --”

“Ah, I recognize you now,” Obi interrupts, his gaze fixed on the clerk. The clerk who now looks quite worried indeed. Good. “Yuuha.”

Miss’s head jerks up at the name, cheeks flushed.

“My goodness me.” Obi’s lips peel back in a grin that shows all his teeth. “It’s been a long while. What, four years? five?”

Yuuha’s mouth pulls into a thin line -- but sweat beads across his brow too. “I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Is that so?”

The clerk lifts up his nose, attempting to look down it. “I don’t associate with those beneath my station.”

“And yet look who’s sitting in front of the desk,” Obi remarks, airy, hooking his hands behind his head. Yuuha goes as red as a cherry, the crowning glory of a just desert. “Looks like you picked a winning personal policy there.”

“If you are quite done harassing the clerk,” His Majesty sighs, “I think we have more pressing details to discuss. Lady Shirayuki, did you have --?”

“Children,” Miss blurts out, face as flushed as her hair. “I mean -- heirs. There should -- should be one for Tanbarun.”

Obi stares.

“That’s -- that’s what marriage agreements look like, don’t they?” She turns to the king, eyes wide, voice wavering in desperation. “Obi asks for an heir for Conti, and I ask for an heir for Entaepode.”

“Yes,” His Majesty allows, looking far too amused. “A good consideration. Save that two months ago, you had no property to require an heir for. Unless,” he adds, eyebrows raised, “there is something about the positions in the pharmacy of which I am not aware.”

Her skin turns painfully red. “Ah. Oh. Right. I didn’t...this is all very confusing.”

“Of course it is,” His Majesty soothes, completely insincere. “However, it is a good proviso to discuss now.” He fixes his gaze to Obi with a smile that gives him chills. “After all, Tanbarun will certainly request it, when they hear of your marriage.”

Obi grits his teeth. “We can worry about that bridge when it’s burning.”

“Ah,” Her Majesty sighs, eyeing him with amusement. “Just the sort of sentiment I would have expected from a marquis.”

“At least this one,” her husband agrees.

Obi’s mouth pulls thin. “We should be more concerned with what Tanbarun will expect to see now, not -- not later.”

“Of course, of course.” His Majesty smiles. “One step at a time. Please take note,” he tells the clerk, not once taking his eyes off Obi, “that Marquis Conti would like to discuss heirs at a later date.”

Obi doesn’t bother to hide his glare. That was not what he’d meant.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Yuuha replies blandly. “Should I ask for it to be scheduled?”

His Majesty’s smile glints like a knife just before the stab. “If you would.”

The man nods. “We’ll be in touch, my lord.”

“Great,” he seethes. The clerk chances a glance at him before his gaze flutters away, trying to hide his fear in the business of paperwork. It’s at least a small balm to his pride.

“No rush,” the king tells him, far too pleased. “Just please be sure not to precipitate negotiations with any...material considerations.”

Miss blinks, confused. “What do you --oh.” She coughs, cheeks flushed. “Oh.”

Obi takes a deep breath, reminding himself that regicide is a capital crime, no matter how much a man may deserve it. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“I’ve found, my dear marquis, that it is best to be prepared for any eventuality,” His Majesty drawls, “no matter how probable one finds it.”

His tone, coupled with the pleased curve of his smile, implies he finds it very probable indeed.

Obi’s fingers dig into the wooden arms of his chair. “I--”

A hand comes down hard on his thigh, and Her Majesty’s smile is thin as she says, “I think we have spent enough time on hypotheticals, have we not? Let us get back to the matter at hand.”

His Majesty grins. “I must yield to the superior wisdom of my wife. Mister Yuuha, if you would read back the terms?”

It’s as the clerk begins his bored drone that Her Majesty loosens her grip on him, leaning in to murmur, “Do not start fights you cannot win, sir.”

A laugh burst from him, soft and bitter. “Why start now?”

[behind-the-hood]

The Book

-Part four of The Bet-

A kiss is pressed to his neck, under his ear. His hair is brushed to the side and the kisses continue down, lower. Down his spine. A huff of breath, purposeful. Laurent does not move. His focus wholly on the text between his hands. Mostly.

A sharp bite on his cheek has him flinching, clenching. He tucks his lip between his teeth and makes no sound.

There's a deep chuckle, dark and tantalizing. Then a kiss to the smarting flesh. Tongue.

Laurent fights a shudder as he's spread apart and examined, his hole wanting and aching, holding tightly to the plug inside. Some get too excited to start; Laurent has learned his lesson.

A tug. A tease. Not meant to remove, but to provoke.

"Damianos," Laurent sighs, breathless.

Laurent wakes with a gasp. Hard in his pants and hot in his shirt.

Too many nights he wakes this way. He'd hoped sleeping with the man would settle the fire in his loins. It had only stoked the flames.

Damianos. All his mind seems to think about anymore, when given time to wander.

He'd gathered his allies, he'd explained the plan. All he needs now is perfect execution.

And Halvik is not a woman of halves.

Oh sure, Laurent has the Vaskian tribes of men as well, but he needed a leader, and she fit the bill. The men hadn't been overly happy, but a night of bonfires and hakesh can soothe any angry spirit.

Damen drank from his mug and avoided his father and brother. Nik had arrived the night before with several hundred men, awaiting Damen's orders. They were Damen's men after all, given to him by his father.

He'd sent Nik many letters of longing, all about Laurent. He did not get many replies.

Now they sit, with the soldiers at the front, ale in hand and fire heating their bodies.

It's colder this close to Vere in winter. Damen had went out of his way to avoid it during his trips. He'd prefer to be in Arles now if it meant this war had never come about.

Even with the beautiful blond slipping between Damen's fingers as he grasped those pale, slender hips.

"Auguste is worried," Damen says quietly, a secret between he and Nik. Not for the men around them.

Nik spares a glance, then his eyes are back on the fire. "You speak to him often?"

Damen gives a nod. "Every night."

Nik looks into the tree line then. Smart.

"He has a bad feeling about Laurent, but he won't say what."

Nik does not comment.

Laurent and his allies ride through the morning, Halvik at his side, his equal.

Her bird returns, with a new ribbon around the note tied to its leg. A reply.

"He has agreed."

The bird caws, and Laurent smiles. Two down, one more to go.

When they reach the clearing, a sole rider meets them.

"Hello Nicaise."

Damen is preparing for another long day of useless fighting, both with his father and on the field, when the flap to his tent opens. He needs more attentive guards.

A child, small and cherubic, a cloak over his shoulders and hood over his head. A scowl on his face.

He holds up a small, folded piece of paper between his fingers.

Damen takes it gingerly. He keeps his distance as well. No telling what the child is hiding under those layers.

"Take that to King Theomedes. Do not read it."

Then he leaves, and Damen cannot even ask who he is.

Damen looks at the paper between his fingers, sorely tempted to read it if only to spite the sprite who entered his tent. He does not.

He does sniff to check for poison. He may like Auguste and Laurent well enough, but most Veretians would sooner stab you in the back with a smile on their faces.

He is allowed entry to his father's tent, and slips him the note. Makedon and Kastor are already here and he does not wish to cause a scene.

A scene is had regardless.

Theomedes looks thunderous as he reads whatever is scrawled.

Then he turns his glare on Damen.

"That whore of yours is turning the tide against us boy," Theomedes seethes. Damen has never been so afraid of his father. Or anyone. "He's brought the Vaskian border tribes and now I'm to be informed that Prince Torveld is provided troops for Vere as well?!"

Vask and Patras. Damen would be impressed if he weren't busy regretting everything he has ever done in his life. Including being born.

Makedon looks impressed enough for the both of them at least.

Damen is sent out of the tent, his father's face burning red.

"They'll have us on our flank!" he hears shouted from inside.

Damen retreats with his tail between his legs.

Laurent feels rather pleased with himself as they crest the hills over Marlas. They can see the white canvas just on the horizon.

"You are proud," Halvik states, a smirk to her lips. She gives an approving nod. "You should be. It is a fine day to win a battle."

Laurent smiles. "You will likely see no fighting today. We have Akiekos cornered. You will see us treat, and then you will see nightfall and campfires and hakesh and many Akielon cocks."

Halvik laughs, more pleased with that outcome than the battle she'd orginally been talked into.

"I'd have taken you as my second the night I met you. How unfortunate for you to turn out with a penis."

Laurent can't help his chuckle. "I've found those who appreciate it."

She shakes her head, still smiling. "They appreciate what's behind it."

Damen is talking with Nik at the front when the cavalry arrives. Quite literally. And Laurent is at their helm. Hundreds of Vaskian tribesmen and women ride out behind him, each on their own horse.

Damen can see Auguste already riding out on his white stallion, racing to meet him.

Damen grabs the nearest horse and plans to do the same but Nik's firm hand and firmer head shake halt him.

Nik's right of course. His father is already more than displeased with him; to be seen riding out the meet with the enemy could have him hanged for treason. Damen waits. Impatient.

Theomedes' horse storms passed them, with the king atop. Kastor and Makedon follow.

Laurent sits steady on his horse as they all wait for his father to arrive. The last to make their impromptu meeting.

Laurent is resolute, and finally decided. He knows what he must do.

"Laurent! What is the meaning of this?" Aleron yells at him.

Theomedes looks mildly bewildered, as much as he is willing to show in front of the enemies at least. "You did not send him for reinforcements?"

Auguste looks worried and meets Laurent's eyes. But Laurent sees no betrayal within them. Good. Auguste still does not believe as their father does that Laurent is out for the crown. He is only worried for Laurent.

Laurent clears his throat to be heard over the bickering kings. "Gentlemen, I have come with my own allies to this fight and would like to propose my own terms."

He looks to Theomedes. "I believe an alliance of marriage between Damianos and myself is a splendid idea." When Theomedes opens his mouth to refuse, Laurent cuts him off first. "If you are so worried about heirs, I hear Kastor has a woman on his arm. Let them make the children."

Laurent turns to his own father. "I will not, however, be leaving court until I can be assured of my brother's safety. You may think me the threat, and I will no longer attempt to change your mind, but I will see this mess cleaned before my departure."

He offers Auguste a look, something private between only them even amongst the crowd, before continuing on. "King Theomedes, I am under the impression you recieved my note?"

Theomedes frowns and his anger is palpable. Warmonger.

Kastor has not spoken up, though his glare says enough, but the general with them looks amused from where his horse stands behind the main party. He sends a wink to Halvik.

"What is it you wish?" Theomedes asks, his voice grit. "The Akielon throne? So you can run us into the ground and prove Vere is superior?"

Laurent composes his face to nothingness. "I was more than happy to advise my brother during his rule and meet Damianos in the middle of the night for secret moonlit rendezvous. My father wouldn't allow me much else with any men I found to hold my interest.

"You and your ilk sought war and brought this upon yourselves. You saw that Vere was weak and you thought to take ground. Vere may be weak for now, but I am not. You'd do well to remember that."

Laurent will not be treated as a pawn any longer. He has played his hand to it's true height. He holds the power here.

He leans forward, threatening. "I have two future kings who would do anything I ask, a Patran prince in my debt, and the loyalty of the Vaskian border tribes. You are outmatched."

Loyalty is a strong word, but Theomedes backs down easily enough after that, though the vein on his forehead looks near to bursting. Auguste looks awe inspired. Aleron...shows nothing.

Aleron turns his horse without a word and walks away. But the fight is called off with the blow of a horn soon enough.

Halvik ticks her horse forward and she and her women split camps to ease all the soldiers of their burdens. For a night.

Some of the men follow, others return home. Laurent knew without himself on offer there was much left to be desired, so he's promised trade goods gifted and heading for meeting points of their encampments. He owes Charls a large sum of money.

Auguste pulls Laurent into a hug. Laurent allows it. "I dare say you are the most powerful man I have ever met."

"I may have also bluffed. Torveld only owes me at a max of maybe twenty men. But troops are troops."

Auguste laughs.

Two riders come out to meet them over the hill. One is clearly Damianos, the other Laurent has yet to meet.

Damen comes to a stop beside Laurent, and doesn't know what to say to him.

Auguste pulls his horse away with a roll of his eyes. Nik follows, a gagging sound escaping his lips. Dick. He did not have to follow Damen up here.

"Hello, lover."

Damen swallows. He does not know what has transpired between his father and Laurent, but Theomedes had calmed from his earlier rage by the time he made it back to camp. He almost looked surprised and not entirely displeased with the turn of events.

"Laurent."

Laurent curls his finger and beckons Damen closer. Soft lips press to his ear.

"You wish to know why I seek you out? I dream of you, of what we started but I cut short. I dream of how that night might have played out had I not grown nervous and banished you from my rooms.

"I thought of it last night Damianos. Of you."

Laurent licks his ear, playful, and Damen's fists tighten around his horse's reins.

Laurent's eyes are flirty, his tone sensual. "If you are so inclined, I'd be delighted to try again."

Damen is inclined. Damen is very inclined.

Auguste finds a note tucked into his chest plate fluttering to the ground as he's removing his armor. He picks it up and bids his servants to leave him. Laurent's usual style of hiding notes, so clearly from him, he thinks with a smile.

He doesn't like what he finds inside however.

'Uncle has returned.'

[blueandgoldoffice]

Hi! Can you recommend some long and completed hot/serpent/bad boy jughead and innocent!betty fics? Thanks❤️

Looks like we have quite a few of you asking for around the same type of fic! 

@dundelions - @daisy-in-danger - @elizabethcooperjonez

I know each of your asks are a little bit varied, but I’m just lumping them into one massive list! I’ll add some quite a few of my favorites below as well as some relevant tags. Happy reading & please review!

// jughead: serpent // jughead: southside //betty: girl next door //

Because quite a few of these fics are explicit and contain mature content, PLEASE be aware of the tags listed on the archive!

Also, this got a bit out of hand oops? (sorry, not sorry) please read under the cut!

Dandelion Clocks by @itsindiansummer13 (5/9)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: “Any girl?” Sweet Pea scoffs. “The last one you slept with now prefers the fairer sex too.”

Laughter rises from the group and Jughead shakes his head. “Not counting Toni, the Serpent Prince thing works with any girl - believe me.”

His best friend’s lips curl into a smirk. “Prove it: fuck the North Side princess.”

.

Or, new-to-town Betty Cooper accompanies her sister to Riverdale’s only tattoo parlour - located on the South Side - in an act of rebellion against their parents. There, she meets the brooding, dangerously attractive Jughead Jones, and unbeknownst to her, becomes embroiled in a bet that results in unexpected consequences.

The Art of Redmancy by @xxbettysgirlxx (6/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Redamancy –noun: The act of loving in return.Two strangers find themselves helping each other in more way than one.

Simmer by @lazydaizies (12/12)

Word Count: 84,643 / Rating: M

Summary:  They say it was fate that crossed the paths of the brooding biker gang banger and the naïve sassy ray of sunshine, but whatever the force was that brought them together, everyone said Riverdale changed the day that Jughead Jones met Betty Cooper. Some say she turned the bad boy into a puddle of kittens and others say he turned the sweet good girl into a fierce sexy tigress, while each of them would argue that the other was already those things. Whatever the case may be, those that were able to observe it all go down said it was an amusing tale to watch unfold. Because from day one, it was a tale of lust, loyalty, confusion and hilarity, with love just beneath the surface waiting on a slow simmer… 

10 Things I Hate About You by @letstakeawalkonthemildside (11/11)

Word Count: 51,763 / Rating: M

Summary: Reggie’s mouth twisted into triumphant smile “You will be compensated monetarily 100$ a day plus whatever gas and dates costs, and if you keep it up till Prom you’ll find yourself with a brand new motorcycle.”

Three and a half months. Winter Formal was the last week of January and Prom was the second week of May. He turned doubtful, “It won’t be easy, and we have a lot of history, bad history.”

Reggie nodded but spoke with complete confidence “Yes, but you’re a Serpent, and as a snake deception and lies are your specialty. You’re the only one that can do this convincingly and bad history is better than no history at all.”

Strong by @allskynostars (10/13)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: Betty Cooper swore she only signed up to tutor a young girl from South Side High, and definitely not for what followed.

And Jughead Jones didn’t sign up for anything.

Fruit Punch Lips & Leather Jacket Dreams by @believe-that-you-can-my-friend (2/3)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: There’s something about the bad boys that makes the good girls fall in love. Betty Cooper, Riverdale’s ultimate sweetheart, couldn’t be the exception to the rule, especially when Jughead Jones, leader of the young generation of Serpents and bad boy in the making, came into her life like a rider amongst pedal smoke. When Serpents are forced to attend Riverdale High, will her infatuation be reciprocated or will the nemesis between the North and the South create a war zone between them? (Slightly AU)

The Baddest Thing by @noorakardemmomesaetre (5/5)

Word Count: 14,502 / Rating: M

Summary: The perfect girl-next-door reputation has preceded Betty Cooper all her life, just as the rough and angry Southside Serpent reputation has preceded Jughead Jones. Could a simple dare in a small town diner challenge everything?

A/U: Jughead Jones has been an established Southside Serpent since his sophomore year of high school. He was never friends with Archie, Betty, Kevin, Veronica or Cheryl. Betty has been an established cheerleader since their sophomore year and her best friend Veronica has been dating Cheryl since then. They are now seniors.

Serpent Kiss by @crashhale (10/10)

Word Count: 58,215 / Rating: E

Summary: Betty Cooper is a college student, sheltered her whole life and craving to be something more than just the average girl next door. Jughead Jones is the leader of the Southside Serpents, closed off with wounds he doesn’t let anyone see. After a one-night stand, by circumstance they meet again, forever changed as they embark on a relationship. Can this pairing ever work?

The Ring Leaders by Marigold77  (4/6)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: Betty Cooper’s life has been a series of suburban events. She crushed on her neighbor. She learned to swim. She got along with her older sister. She wore pink shirts and nice skirts. She’s done all that has been expected of her, but times have changed. Secrets are threatening to break through, some of which Betty would like to personally expose for everyone to see; others she would like to keep locked up tight and throw away the key.

Upon a tragic and chance encounter, Betty meets Jughead Jones, a Southside Serpent who has taken a keen interest in her and her mission. Together they just might be able to straighten up the town, but first they must shred away the layers of themselves that they would rather keep away from everyone, but slowly they realize that it might be the only way for them to not only co-exist, but to be together.

or

Betty is an intense swimmer (even though I know little about actual swimming) and she has multiple secrets from nearly everyone. Jughead is the son of a serpent leader and slowly falls for the pretty girl who dares to swim across Sweetwater River.*Written pre-season 2*

Fool For You by @bug-headx (12/12)

Word Count: 33,833 / Rating: NR

Summary:  Betty Cooper, the A+ student and perfect girl next door, who had been dating the school’s hottest jock since middle school, winds up with the notorious bad boy, Jughead Jones, the youngest leader of the Southside Serpents. Somehow, stars align for them, making them fall so deep in love, but are they able to maintain a relationship through their differences? How strong are they?

Tempting Fate by @kaylaarann (48/50)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary:  Betty is being held captive by the Ghoulies, only to have an unconscious man she’s never met thrown in with her, Jughead. After helping each other escape, things will only get more interesting as the Southside Serpent and High school cheerleading journalist get to know each other better, much better. Bughead, Humor/Romance/Thriller, Smut, Little OOC… Give it a go, you wont regret it!

Pay the Piper by lilylemoncakes (¾)

Word Count: WIP / Rated: E

Summary:  “A Serpent’s help comes with a price. And my price is you. In my bed and at my mercy. For one night.”

Betty goes to the Whyte Wyrm to ask the Serpent Prince for a favor.

The Sacred and the Profane by BubblegumSuburbia (7/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Seeing the twist of emotions and confusion flitting across her face, he leaned in closer to her, so his nose rested on her temple. Eyes dark and sure, he placed his hand on her bare thigh.

“The problem is, Betty…” He breathed softly into her ear, “I would fucking destroy you.”

-

Riverdale is a quiet town during the Summer. Betty and Jughead, having long lost touch since their days of childhood friendship, are drawn to each other over the months after senior year.

The woe of Juliet and her beloved Romeo by @butwelivehappilyeverafter (9/?)

Word Count: 34,865 /  Rating: G

Summary: Before him Betty’s life had been a combination of perfect and completely toxic. She’s forbidden to cross the border to the Southside of town, unable to associate with the ‘delinquents’ that live there to keep up her mothers appearance of a happy Northside family. But all facades fade, and when Betty’s life begins to crumble, she goes to the only person she feels she can trust.

It’s almost a year later, and the Southside is coming to Riverdale High, and so is Betty’s biggest secret.

say my name by endlessdaydreaming (2/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Everything in Betty Cooper’s life was unremarkably constant: Please her mother, envy her sister, pine over Archie, cheerleading with Veronica, write for the Blue and Gold with Kevin, and repeat — until Jughead Jones comes crashing back into her life, with leather jacket, crown beanie, dangerous smile and all.

[Aka that Bughead secret enemies-with-benefits-turned-lovers that I have been dying to read but no one has written yet, where Jughead is a Southside Serpent and Betty had always wanted to be corrupted; featuring sexy af Jughead, slowly corrupted Betty, protective Veronica, and jealous Archie; also angst, issues, pretentious writing, smut, and slow updates.]

[honestgrins]

Do you accept prompts that you didn't come up with, I don't know if you have a list or not. But I just thought up a prompt and I would give my firstborn child to read the story. I know you may not have seen the Originals but Esther tried to body-switch Rebekah and Klaus said 'take me instead.' So the prompt is Esther grants Klaus’s request and body-switches him instead of Rebekah. He’s put into a teenage boy not much older than Caroline, he finds Caroline in Mystic Falls. Chaos ensues.

Ummmm, sorry this took SO long!! I’m slowly working through my lists, I swear. Thanks for your patience, and I really hope you like it! Takes place near the beginning of TVD S6.

Familiarity || Klaroline

“I’m going to fix this.” Rebekah’s voice was steely as she cupped his face, looking for any resemblance to the brother who had selflessly taken her punishment instead. Her thumb traced the new line of his cheek. “I promise, Nik.”

Klaus smirked, the familiar expression almost eerie on his human vessel. “It’s only temporary, Rebekah,” he murmured quietly.

She glanced just behind him to glare at their mother. “I don’t trust her,” Rebekah hissed.

“As if I don’t already have a plan.” Rolling his eyes, Klaus turned to face Esther. “Satisfied, Mother? Here I am, human and non-threatening.”

Esther’s eyes remain cold as her smile spread to something almost like warmth. “It’s for the best,” she nodded sagely. “The mere lifetime ahead of you will be worth more than the millennium you’ve already lived, Niklaus.”

Stepping toward the body he once inhabited, Klaus swallowed back an odd, hollow feeling when faced with his desiccating form. “Rebekah.”

“No!” Esther screamed.

In a second, Rebekah flashed both Klaus and his body away from the compound. Too focused on the body swap, Esther had failed to maintain the barrier spell on the house, allowing her children to escape.

With his too human senses, the sudden speed was disorienting for Klaus. By the time Rebekah stopped at the compound, his chest was heaving, the urge to vomit nearly overwhelming the dizziness. “Now-” He had to pause, focusing on deep breaths to remain steady. “We’re going to need a witch for cloaking spells. Elijah has one of his computer techs working on a false identity I can assume in the meantime, just out of sight of Mother Dearest.”

Nodding, Rebekah had yet to look at him in his new body; she pushed back the hair against his graying skin, instead. All the times he had daggered her, yet she couldn’t take any joy in him forced into submission. They’ve all lost each other too many times, and by their own family. “Where will you go?”

“Once the spells are done and my body is reasonably secured,” Klaus shrugged, “I have an idea where I can lay low, the last place Esther would think to look. There’s even a built-in resistance should she manage to find me.”

She frowned, finally turning to face him. Her eyes looked for any sign of her devious brother among the unfamiliar features. “Tell me you’re not that stupid.”

His smirk fell into a stern glare, the resemblance becoming clear in the violent expression. “Careful, sister. I may be human now, but-”

“Shove it, Nik,” Rebekah snapped, steel in the reminder that she was more powerful than her brother for the first time in her long, long life. “What could you possibly hope to gain by going back there?”

Klaus narrowed his eyes, a cunning smile curving his lips. “It seems the quarterback hasn’t been keeping in touch,” he teased, enjoying her angry hiss in response. “My sources say that Mystic Falls is protected against magic.”

“And Mother can’t get to you,” Rebekah realized. “But you’re magically in a human body.”

Sighing, Klaus ran a hand through his hair and startled at the smooth, dark strands. “I don’t know, Bekah. It’s merely an option should Mother make herself a further nuisance. Plan A is to ingratiate myself nearby.”

Rebekah blinked, irritation rising in her expression. “Oh, you must be joking.”

“Whitmore University Academic Advising Office, Caroline speaking.” Her fake smile stretched like elastic with the standard greeting, voice strained between professionalism and complete irritation with the human condition. The office job seemed like a good bet for work-study hours, even if the endless phone calls panicked over registration made her want to eat everyone who didn’t understand basic instructions. “Yes, you received an email with that information, I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you,” she answered tightly. “Then check your student portal, it’s also listed there.”

Sighing at the barrage of angry explanations for why that was so hard, Caroline mentally reminded herself that murder was bad. Even if she was short on blood and super hungry, hunting down some freshman who got snippy with the wrong vampire was so not worth the effort and resulting guilt.

Not so much about the feeding; since she’d been magically locked out Mystic Falls all summer, Caroline goaded her mom into taking advantage of the relative peace with a long vacation. The beach resort had plenty of booze for her to sublimate, but blood bags were few and far between. Liz managed to grin and bear the glassy-eyed guests on their way to sleep off the blood Caroline gave to heal them, but not without a stern reminder for her daughter to use good judgment once back at school.

“Mystic Falls might be safe from the supernatural, but Whitmore isn’t,” Liz had warned just before crossing the border back into town. “Getting sloppy can get you killed, draw the wrong attention.” What she left unsaid had Caroline nodding back grave tears. The Travelers were finally gone, but not without losing Bonnie to wherever she and Damon ended up when the Other Side collapsed. Stefan fled to grieve his brother, Elena walked a fine line between miserable and losing it on a good day, and Matt seemed to enjoy his exclusively human experience.

Once Caroline made it to campus for her sophomore year, then, all that left her with was-

“Hello, gorgeous.” Enzo appeared before her desk, handing off a coffee cup that didn’t smell like coffee. “Thought you might be needing a pick-me-up.”

“Enzo!” She kept her admonishment to a harsh whisper, glancing around the open office to make sure no one noticed his too sudden entrance. He’d become an unexpectedly reliable companion, though she still wasn’t sure why he stuck around. After a hundred years in a cell, Caroline half wanted to send him on a world tour. But he brought her blood and let her vent about statistics homework, so…only half. “Some discretion would be nice.” His roguish smirk told her exactly what he thought about discretion, but she accepted the cup anyway; her crabbiness would only get worse without blood. “Suspiciously warm,” she noted. “Anyone I know?”

Shrugging, Enzo made himself comfortable in the waiting area next to her, legs kicked up on her bookshelf until she shoved his feet away. “One of the parents passing through, per your request. No one likely to build a lingering grudge over time.”

Caroline sighed in relief. “Thank you.” The scent of blood darkened the veins under her eyes, and the tips of her fangs just grazed her lip when a student knocked at the door. Ducking her head to fake a cough, she took a calming breath to greet him with a more human face. “Hello, can I help you?”

He just stood there, staring at her for a too long moment. “Uh, hello?” Caroline asked again, ignoring Enzo’s amused recline as he watched the show.

“Sorry.” The guy seemed to straighten his leather jacket before folding his hands behind his back. “I wasn’t expecting- Hello. I’m a new transfer from Tulane, and I received an email to confirm my schedule here.”

Enzo perked up in his seat. “New Orleans?” Wincing, Caroline reminded herself to never drink with him again. New friend bonding time had turned into story time, which included a fair amount about the Mikaelsons, the havoc they wrought, and the greener pastures they apparently found down South. “I hear it’s a great town to get in trouble.”

“And then some, mate.” He glanced between the two of them, though, his fond smile turning into something darker.

Her eyes narrowed, some wave of suspicion dawning upon her. “Name? I’ll need it to find your advisor.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t waver from her gaze, instead meeting it with a challenge of his own. “Nicholas Mills. Call me Nic.”

He had forgotten what it was like to truly be in the presence of Caroline Forbes, the whirlwind that she was. For a whole month, Klaus had been able to chat, flirt, and even befriend her in his new body. She invited him to movie nights, caught up with him at the library, it was the utterly human life he had wanted her to leave behind.

As much as he hated his own humanity at times, he could admit that this glimpse of another life was…tempting.

Klaus knew he would have to tell her the truth at some point; the excuse for protection would only hold her attention - and her patience - for so long. He would have to explain when the time was right. Unable to contact Rebekah without drawing their mother’s attention, though, Klaus could not begin to guess when the right time would be.

Until then, he simply tried to enjoy the time she spent with him as Nic Mills. Dreadfully bored from the rest of his college experience, Klaus couldn’t help but allow bits of himself bleed through the mask. He spent his days in art classes, rolling his eyes through poor interpretations and misinformed history lessons. Often, he would duck into the music wing to while away at the piano. Whitmore had more to offer than he’d expected, but too much longer in this game would surely drive him insane.

But watching Caroline dance, smile bright among the party lights of the frat house, was a different sort of hell entirely. A red Solo cup of cheap beer was shoved into his hand, and he glanced over to find Enzo smirking at him. “Thanks,” he bit out, taking a sip. The strange vampire had been an unpleasant surprise, to say the least. It had only taken Klaus a day to catch onto his supernatural status, what with the unsubtle jokes about going for a bite and bloody t-shirts. Finding him so close to Caroline was even worse. Those nicknames. She had brooked no such casual friendship with Damon; why she put up with this fellow, Klaus didn’t understand.

“Following our girl again, huh?” Enzo drank from a flask instead, his eyes darting around the room. “Gorgeous has a tendency of collecting hangers-on.”

“Apparently so,” Klaus noted, none too generously. “Where’d she get you, then?”

Shrugging, Enzo waved back to Caroline who’d noticed both of them in the corner. “Would you believe that I was held captive for a hundred years, only to be abandoned by the closest thing I had to family, with just a gorgeous blonde to pester me back to fighting shape? Of course not, that’d be impossible.”

Klaus blinked, suddenly wanting much more of that story. But with Caroline approaching, he had to quash his instincts to threaten Enzo for information. “Hello.”

“Just in time, Gorgeous,” Enzo teased. “I was telling Nic here all about how we met. See, she pretended to hate me for a bit, but I grew on her. I hear it’s a habit with her, actually.”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline stole his flask before turning to Klaus. “Don’t believe a word he says. You don’t strike me as the frat party type.”

“You’re here,” he answered simply, much to Enzo’s amusement.

With a hoarse laugh, Enzo barely dodged an elbow jab from Caroline. “Careful, you’re a bit more breakable than her usual boyfriend. Don’t have fur, do you?”

Her hand pushed him away until she could slip between them like a barrier. Klaus wanted to push on that, wondering if he was included in that usual. Her smile turned placating, a reminder of all the times she acted as the distraction for him. “Seriously, ignore him. He’s already drunk. Do you want to da- Hold on.” Caroline reached into her pocket, frowning at the display as it buzzed. “This is…weird. I should take this.”

Lifting the phone to her ear, Klaus tried to decipher the sudden pinch in Caroline’s expression, only for the reason to become all too clear. “Rebekah?”

Klaus froze and wished he had his supernatural hearing. He didn’t want to show his hand too soon, both his safety and Caroline’s good favor depended upon him play his cards right. Worse, Rebekah might be in trouble when he was in no position to help. As his brain ran wild with the possibilities, he forced his face to remain passive. After all, he was just a human with no clue as to the Original family’s existence.

Thoroughly concerned with her conversation, Caroline didn’t seem to pay him much mind. Her eyes went wide; Klaus assumed Rebekah told her of Esther’s return and his own sacrifice. “No, Bonnie’s-” She choked up a bit, likely taken off guard. He hadn’t been pleased to discover the joy of Damon’s death cost a Bennett witch as well, though he knew Caroline was impacted on a more emotional front. “She’s gone. Where did Klaus go? Is he okay?”

Warmed at the note of worry in her voice, Klaus figured he had best be the one to come forward with the truth. Holding out his hand, he let himself fall back into his natural accent. “I’m fine, love. Give me the phone.”

Caroline hesitated only a moment until her eyes slid shut. He could practically feel the frustration rolling off her as she pressed the phone into his hand. “Unbelievable,” she muttered seconds before flashing them both out of the party. When they arrived in her off-campus apartment, Klaus took deep breaths to prevent vomiting. She scoffed at the utterly human reaction. “Seriously? Start talking, Nic.”

“You wanker,” Rebekah’s tinny voice yelled through the phone. “Is it really you, Nik?”

Sighing, Klaus held the phone up to his ear. “Yes, Rebekah. It’s been a dull few weeks. I assume you’ve been trying to reach me.”

“Your voicemail is full.”

“Phone’s locked in my studio at the compound,” Klaus answered. “I didn’t want to give Esther’s minions a means to track me.” He watched as Caroline crossed her arms, clearly unsettled.

Rebekah mumbled some obscenities at the holes in that plan, not that they’d had much time to develop it. “Well, I have you now. Elijah and Marcel have brokered a truce with Mother, I was going to bring your body up to Whitmore to avoid any interference with the spell.”

“What truce?” He certainly didn’t approve any such agreement, especially given their mother’s ill will toward their very being.

“We have Finn, it’s a trade. His life for your freedom. If the Bennett can’t do the spell, however, I want Caroline to escort you back to New Orleans. Davina will have to be the one to return you.” With a click, Rebekah hung up before either of them could protest.

Playing idly with the phone, Klaus struggled to meet Caroline’s eyes. “Sweetheart-”

“Please, don’t.” She sounded tired. “This is just…weird. Why would you do this? You made me a promise.”

I will walk away, and I’ll never come back.

Klaus opened his mouth, only to close it again. Dragging his tongue across his bottom lip, he bowed his head. “Where else would you have me go?” He glanced up to see the indecision on her face. “I wanted to tell you. Several times.”

“And yet, you didn’t. Several times.” She combed her hands through her hair, and Klaus watched forlornly as paced the room. “Well, it looks like you finally got me to New Orleans. Let’s go, we can make it there by lunch.”

“Caroline-”

Pressing her hands to her mouth, Caroline shook her head. “We’ll be trapped in a car for hours, I swear, we’ll talk about boundaries and honesty and common courtesy, I just…need a little time to process for myself. Okay?” She stared expectantly until he nodded in answer. “Okay. And I get to pick the music, it’s my car and I haven’t been lying for weeks.”

“No arguments here, love.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stop that. I need to pack.” Flashing around her apartment, she came to a sudden stop with a suitcase in her hand.

A flare of hope clenched his stomach, though he wisely stayed quiet; still, a suitcase seemed more appropriate for an extended visit than a mere delivery. Soon, curiosity overwhelmed him. “Did you like him? Nic?”

Caroline, half buried in her pantry looking for road trip snacks, turned to face him in speculation. “I wanted to,” she finally said. “It’s been a while since…” The woods. “Plus, dating a human is such a recipe for disaster. I always kind of knew it would only be a temporary thing, which is fine. But I don’t like being temporary.”

Immortal. Fearless. “For what it’s worth,” he breathed, almost scared to invite her derision once more, “temporary is the last thing I want from you.”

“I know.” She didn’t sound sad or resigned as he’d expected. Rather, Caroline stated it as a matter of fact - that what they might be, would be forever. Shrugging, she managed a small smile. “Not yet.”

Klaus blinked, all too human heart pounding in his chest. He was about to have Caroline all to himself for hours, then in New Orleans, in his own body. She wasn’t ready for forever.

Not yet.

Read on: AO3 and FFnet

[xoruffitup]

Escaping Delusion For Self-Understanding & Empowerment: A Ben Solo Redemption/Reylo Meto

Upon my initial read of The Last Jedi novelization, I was disappointed by the lack of storytelling from Kylo’s perspective. I really enjoyed picking the character apart by his resolutely-hidden loose ends in my TFA Novel/Close-Reading Kylo Ren Analysis, and I’d been eagerly awaiting new insight in the TLJ novel into the internal deliberations guiding his sweeping character evolution. When the throne room scene went into Snoke’s head instead of Kylo’s, I got downright frustrated. But then, when I started delving into the novel more deeply the second time, I realized that viewing Kylo through other characters’ eyes actually tells us much more about him than his own perspective would ever be able to show – The key reason being the extent of Kylo’s self-delusion, and how little he understands himself.

The TFA novel did a superb job of presenting the deep dissonance and main source of conflict within Kylo Ren: Namely, the unstable disconnect between Kylo Ren’s detached brutality, and the stifled, hidden persona of Ben Solo within him – who appears in volatile, powerful bursts of emotion beyond Kylo’s control. My TFA novel analysis concluded with the key question: “Did he ever make a free, conscious decision to abandon Ben Solo to the monstrous might of Kylo Ren? If not, how strong is the illicit inner part of him still clinging to life and light?”

TLJ provides the answer pretty clearly that he did not; but the reason and process are more complex than simply Luke’s mistake pushing him over the edge. We came – as both viewers and readers – to understand Kylo much better as an individual wracked by repressed trauma, emotional dissociation, despairing loneliness, and destructive wrath aimed indiscriminately at himself and those around him. We don’t learn this from Kylo himself, because Kylo himself either refuses or fails to recognize his wounds. Instead, we gain a rare look beneath the cold, cruel shell of Kylo Ren to the true man beneath mainly through Rey’s evolving perception of him. Kylo and Rey’s ingress to each other’s minds and their budding mutual understanding and empathy are the means by which both characters not only come to understand each other more fully, but also themselves. This self-understanding will prove the most challenging and crucial element of Kylo’s redemption; but Rey’s journey to self-understanding and acceptance in TLJ can tell us a lot about what we might expect to lie in store for him.

Both Kylo and Rey ended TLJ in a far different place than they began. Since Rey started from a much stronger position of mental health and self-belief, she ends TLJ assured of her ability to forge her own path and place in this story. She makes difficult, dangerous, unconventional decisions through and through, but she ends TLJ only more firmly centered in her morals and self-belief. Kylo also ends TLJ in a vastly different place than he began – But he is still a great distance from the kind of self-understanding and empowerment achieved by Rey.

The development of the Rey/Kylo bond in TLJ establishes and reveals how deeply their journeys and hardships mirror each other. We see them literally reaching out to each other in attempt to provide solace for the other’s bone-deep, consuming solitude. We see them both struggling to come to terms with difficult, lonely childhoods and complex resentments towards parental figures. We see each tempted by both sides of the Force, and each repeatedly toeing the line between light and dark. Their symbolic unity as opposing but equal forces is overt: “It is you.” “I’ve seen this raw strength only once before, in Ben Solo.”

My interpretation of Kylo’s character development in TLJ is closely linked to the development of Reylo because I believe the two are inherently intertwined, and the latter will help predict the former. TLJ made plain their similarities and parallels, as well as their natural draw and empathy for the other. I anticipate that their future development will continue to mirror each other, with their bond bringing further convergence in their character trajectories, while they each play a vital supporting role in the other’s eventual, respective ‘triumphs.’ For Rey, this will likely take the shape of developing and claiming her powers on her terms alone, subscribing to neither the rigidities of the Jedi nor the narrow-minded dichotomy of the Jedi/Sith. For Kylo, I’m pretty willing to bet money this will take the shape of redemption; or at least some stable middle ground where he can find a semblance of peace within himself and companionship.

To get more specific in my reading here, I believe TLJ was Rey’s movie of self-discovery with Kylo mostly in the supporting role. Episode IX, however, will be Ben’s movie with Rey then supporting him. Seeing Rey’s personal internal journey in TLJ (Self-discovery, acceptance, and then independent agency in her rejections of both Luke and Kylo’s attempts to set her future path for her) gives us insight into the internal challenges and monumental decisions awaiting Kylo – and the steps he must take before he can reach a point of understanding and peace with himself. We also see a model of how Rey can provide essential support and guidance to enable Kylo’s growth and self-liberation.

One thing that cannot be emphasized enough is that both characters must indeed liberate themselves. While I do believe that Rey and Kylo’s bond plays an integral and irreplaceable role in both of their development trajectories, another shared aspect of their journey is that the crucial, identity-forming moment of reckoning with the darkest, most difficult-to-accept parts of themselves must be experienced in isolation. The decisions they each make to emerge from these challenging, isolated moments can, and indeed are, guided in part by the other’s influence, but the experience itself of debilitating soul-searching must be experienced alone. The decision itself must be reached alone.

Hence, why the ‘Reylo is abusive’ position is untenable; Kylo has nothing but a positive effect on Rey’s TLJ development, and he never determines her choices for her. He coaxes her to confront and eventually accept the darker parts of herself, along with the aspects of her past she has lived in willful ignorance of. Thanks to her painful introspection in the dark-side cave, followed by her voicing the all-terrible truth about her parents in the throne room, her self-understanding and belief in her own agency stands so strong that she rejects Kylo’s misguided proposal – Knowing that acceptance would mean compromising her identity and values.

There is a balance here I want to make the effort to clarify: Rey and Kylo are each a positive force to the other – helping the other accept and act on parts of themselves they either didn’t fully understand or could not previously assimilate. But in the moments when their self-determination and empowerment hang in the balance – When they each face a decision that will shape their destinies, they stand alone. They each decide for themselves. Yet, it’s highly likely that the changes in their self-perception due to the other’s companionship and empathy help enable decisions they perhaps might not have been capable of before.

From my view, there is a single greatest challenge confronting both Rey and Kylo, before they can become self-determining characters acting with true agency. Rey conquered this challenge in TLJ, but Kylo’s true test still awaits in Episode IX. The challenge is to free themselves from willful, self-imposed delusions. Only until they remove the blinders of self-deception and willful ignorance can they see clearly enough to gain a true understanding of the self. Only with a true understanding of the self, can they each make free, independent, productive decisions towards shaping their futures for themselves and becoming the people they truly wish to be.

‘Self-deluded’ could be Kylo Ren’s middle name. He might not know it, but everyone around him sure does. When Luke sees Ben again on Crait after so many years:

“Even stronger than the anger were Kylo’s pain and fear. They filled him, threatening to devour him. Ben Solo had sought to abandon everything he had been, even casting aside his name. But Luke sensed that Kylo Ren was just a shell around the same broken boy he had tried so hard to reach” (Page 297).

And though I’m still a little bitter about getting in Snoke’s head rather than Kylo’s during the climactic throne room scene, I do have to admit that Snoke’s words hit the nail right on the head:

“He called himself Kylo Ren, but as with so much else about him, that was more wish fulfillment than reality. He had never escaped being Ben Solo, or learned to resist the pull of the weak and pathetic light, or had the strength to excise the sentimental streak that had destroyed his legendary grandfather. And then there was his most glaring failure of all: his inability or unwillingness to use his power to redirect the course of his own destiny” (Page 222).

I placed emphasis on the final sentence because that’s the crux of the matter right there. Kylo Ren claims to seek power through the dark side, to complete the destruction of his weak former identity and banish all light and poisonous sentiment from within himself. But this is increasingly proving to be an impossible task. Kylo Ren will never achieve the dark-side strength or invulnerability to attachment for which he longs, because Kylo Ren himself is a hollow, inert fabrication. He will never be able to “redirect the course of his own destiny” in any meaningful way, until he confronts the contradictions of Kylo Ren’s being and the truths Kylo Ren was created to hide.

This is the delusion Kylo must confront before he can ever become free in any sense at all: Ben Solo’s enduring existence and strength. He must realize that the dark side ethos of power through strength and excising of attachments is irreconcilable with who he is as a person. The light of Ben Solo will always live in him, always making surrender to the dark side impossible. Kylo Ren calls Ben Solo “weak and foolish, like his father,” while being willfully blind to the fact that Ben Solo’s emotions and needs were what created him. Ben Solo – still very much alive within Kylo – was never helpless or weak. To the contrary, Ben Solo is so strong, his emotional core released a desperate coping mechanism against unbearable pain, coupled with a violent vengeance that has underscored every single one of his actions. The truth is, Kylo Ren never destroyed Ben Solo. Ben Solo created Kylo Ren, and has controlled him ever since.

Ben Solo’s lingering need for attachment bubbles out from Kylo Ren in various forms. Unable to look within himself, he seeks identity and purpose in others. Here lies one of his many sources of conflict: Even while lashing out against those he believed wronged and hurt him, he continues searching for external guidance and affirmations of his worth. He clings to his grandfather’s legacy, seizing upon Vader as a model and even speaking with his grandfather’s deformed helmet with sentiments starkly reminiscent of, “I’ll make you proud of me.” Even while he firmly rejects his parentage and seeks to destroy Luke, he simultaneously longs to claim his uncle’s light saber for himself and the legacy it represents. Snoke – depraved abuser that he is – recognizes this need for external affirmation and exploits it. “‘My worthy apprentice, son of darkness, heir apparent to Lord Vader,’ Snoke said, knowing how Kylo had yearned for such praise” (Page 235).

Kylo craves acceptance, affirmation, and ultimately love from others, while disavowing any such needs as foolish weakness to be rejected and left behind. This only makes it harder for Kylo to recognize the depths of his own self-deception. He sees the cause of Kylo Ren’s creation in all others around him; Pursuing his vendetta against all those he holds responsible for his fall, while claiming to be inured to their importance or connections to him. Refusing to acknowledge neither these contradictions, nor the deeper emotional origins of his actions, he never confronts his true self in all its indomitable vulnerability.

To put this all in simple terms: Boy’s got a lot of issues. A character this complex – with a mask of cruelty and apathy disguising the pain and fear shaping everything he does; Who, even with misery in his eyes, affirms being a monster – will face an ultimate moment of reckoning equally complex. We learned in TLJ that this character wasn’t nearly the black-and-white villain we might have thought. His path to the light and escape from torment won’t be black-and-white either. Rey learns this the hard way: “Luke’s error had been to assume that Ben Solo’s future was predetermined – that his choice had been made. Her error had been to assume that Kylo Ren’s choice was simple – that turning on Snoke was the same as rejecting the pull of the darkness” (Page 260).

There’s a lot bound up in Kylo’s descent into darkness. There are his childhood feelings of isolation and inadequacy – stoked and exploited by Snoke. There are his adolescent feelings of abandonment and betrayal at the hands of his own family. There are his perceived memories of when his parents “talked about him like he wasn’t their son, but some kind of monster” (Page 82). It was not only Snoke’s influence that pulled him to the dark, but his own yearning to escape that propelled him there as well. Yet in his own eyes, there was an inevitability to it all. His parents saw him as a monster, his uncle Luke thought he was beyond all hope – And so a monster beyond all hope is what he became.

Rey is the one who begins to chip away at the certitude of his damnation. She is the first to give him the chance to explain what really happened the night Luke came into his room as he slept. She is the first person to truly see him in all his agonizing complexity, and she is the first to truly believe in his potential to make decisions for himself that might enable his deliverance. Even after failing to turn him, in the escape pod leaving the Supremacy Rey sees the future as “a range of possibilities, which were constantly reshaped by the outcome of events that seemed minor and decisions that seemed small” (Page 260). Unlike others who viewed Kylo’s path to the dark side as immutable (including Kylo himself), she sees his enduring multiplicity of futures. She still believes in his capacity to make powerful decisions for himself, and shape himself a higher path.

While Kylo’s ultimate moment of reckoning with his true self and shedding his delusions (his equivalent of Rey’s voicing and acceptance of the truth of her parents’ abandonment) still stands before him, he has already faced two similar moments when he was confronted with a choice of who he was and what he believed in. The first was his confrontation with Han. The second was his decision to kill Snoke. His decisions in these moments of internal conflict went in opposite directions – one a desperate plunge deeper into the dark, the other an unexpected surge towards the light and belief in his own will.

While he made both decisions on his own, Rey’s influence is the essential new factor that makes him think for himself, beyond Snoke’s indoctrination and the dark side ethos of strength only through unfeeling power. In both this scene and Han’s death, Kylo was nearly overwhelmed by feeling. He killed Han in a despairing bid to escape from the crush of conflict and torment within him, believing this unforgiveable act might finally purge him of his pain and let him become unfeeling. (He was wrong, of course.) In the throne room scene, Kylo does almost the exact opposite. He is overwhelmed by Rey’s pain: “Kylo could feel Rey’s pain and panic, a bright roar in the Force that overwhelmed all else – even the dark presence of Snoke” (Page 223), and he acts not on a desire to escape from his overpowering emotional response to her suffering, but rather embraces it as a call to action more compelling than the dark side has ever been. Rey promised in the elevator that she would help him, and he saw in his own vision that Rey would stand with him. Finally, Kylo feels an attachment warm, alive, and understanding – And it gives Ben Solo something to fight for, rather than another source of pain to escape and throw up walls against.

This is such an important moment for Kylo’s development for so many reasons. It’s indisputable evidence that Ben Solo is alive and kicking, with an independent will and positive, caring emotions Snoke never succeeded in stamping out. It demonstrates that power was never the most important thing to him – it was never what he truly sought. His strongest need is still enduringly for human connection and warmth. When he thinks he might be in reach of a bond with someone who truly understands his struggle and eases his pain, he protects it and her at all costs, even turning his back on the dark-side Master to whom he swore such loyalty.

(Sidebar: I have heard some people argue that Kylo killing Snoke was ultimately a power grab, enabled by Rey’s presence but not motivated by it. Let me take a minute here to knock that down. If Kylo’s main goal was to seize power and become the Supreme Leader himself, his actions immediately after the fight make no sense whatsoever. Rey is his equal in strength, and the only one who can challenge him anymore. If ruling domination was his goal, he would have tried to get rid of her right then and there as the only lingering threat to him… Not begged her to join him with a quivering lip and a desperate “please,” like this whole kingdom is meaningless without her by his side.)

Just as Rey realizes after the fact – The decisions confronting Kylo regarding his identity and the shaping of his own future are much more complicated than simply rejecting Snoke. In the throne room, Kylo’s anger towards Snoke was first kindled even before Snoke began torturing Rey – When Snoke revealed he created the bond between Kylo and Rey’s minds, for the purpose of using Kylo to lure Rey in. “…he looked up in surprise, his eyes locked on his master. Snoke ignored the pleading look on Kylo’s face – just as he ignored the sickly waves of pain and confusion that rolled out from him into the Force” (Page 222). Just as there was more to Kylo’s decision than a need to save Rey (“more” not meaning seeking power, but rejection of an abusive, domineering master), there is more to the aftermath as well. Rey wrongly anticipated that Kylo turning his back on Snoke would also mean turning his back on the dark side, but so long as Kylo continues laboring under delusions of Ben Solo’s weakness and irrelevance to his identity, he will continue needing the dark side and its promised escape from pain as a crutch to help him endure. He remains willfully blind to Ben Solo’s presence: “‘Ben?’ she asked. ‘That’s my old name,’ he said” (Page 244).

The hardest part of Kylo’s journey still lies before him: The introspection that will enable him to understand and accept the emotional instincts and needs that have shaped his path thus far. Then, perhaps, he can embrace the strength and light of Ben Solo as the truest means to shape his destiny for himself. TLJ left Kylo in a position where, for the first time, he does have recourse to the freedom to make decisions for himself. But all of his decisions following Rey’s refusing of him were based in blind anger, destructive vengeance, and consuming hurt. He is still hiding behind the cold, empty cruelty of Kylo Ren, running away from Ben Solo’s emotions with a wake of destruction.

In probably the most direct illustration of the tragic irony of Kylo Ren’s character, he urges Rey to “let go” of the past:

“It’s time to let the old things die. (…) You’re holding on. Let go. (…) Do you want to know the truth about your parents? Or have you always known and have you just hidden it away – hidden it from yourself? Let it go. You know the truth. Say it!” (Page 244)

He is asking her to do what he himself has so far been incapable of. He doesn’t see the contradiction - Remaining utterly blind to the truth that he is controlled by his own past, and Kylo Ren is only Ben Solo in another, crueler guise, still acting in response to a bright, burning emotional core that will never be quenched. He can never stop hating himself, or stop living in a projected shell of pain and violence, until he confronts his past trauma and accepts his enduring need for those he feels attachments to.

At some point, he must consciously accept all of Ben Solo as the most essential part of himself. He must recognize empathy and love not as weaknesses to be cut away, but as the single strongest force in the galaxy – whose thwarted, then perverted power was, after all, what created Kylo Ren. Until he accepts Ben Solo’s needs as his own and acknowledges his emotions as strength, the past will continue to control him and he will remain trapped in a helpless loop of anger, destruction, despair, and solitude.

This might sound like a tall order for someone with so much emotional trauma to overcome. And yet, I remain a firm proponent and believer in redemption. As I said earlier, I anticipate Episode IX will be “Ben’s movie,” with Rey helping him through his internal journey towards some form of resolution. His ultimate moment of reckoning within himself will be complex and immensely challenging, due to the depth of his self-deception and the immensity of the pain that initiated it. But Rey will be there to help him through – providing a warm light at the end of the tunnel to guide his way. She can provide hope and comfort to Ben’s loneliness and despair, enough to make him believe there could be something brighter for him in the world than the cold, unfeeling dark side.

Let’s not forget: In the throne room, believing in the promise of Rey by his side, Kylo achieved a moment of intense internal resolve that lent him inner strength he’s never known before. Ever since he first went to Snoke, the heart of Ben Solo living within Kylo Ren’s shroud has lived in stifled agony, crying out against the cold isolation demanded by the dark side. Part of Kylo has always hated being a monster, always yearned for warmth and light and hated himself for shrinking away from it. But only until Rey extended her hand to him, only until Rey listened to his side of the story, only until she believed in him and risked her life in pursuit of that belief – Only then did Kylo find something solid and resolute enough within himself to do what had before been unthinkable: To free himself and take his own future into his hands.

It was a short-lived moment of resolution and clarity, but one that bodes well for Kylo’s future. While Rey can help him regain faith in the world, reminding him that emotions can also be a force of comfort and wonder, all this will only be to help him recognize that he alone has the power to save himself. Or more precisely – Ben Solo holds that power.

Ben Solo – not his Force abilities, not the dark side – is the strongest part of him. Through confronting, acknowledging, and then accepting Ben Solo’s past pain and hardship as the most integral part of him, he might finally find inner peace. Ben was a loving, sensitive child, whose inability to cope with pain, fear, and abandonment birthed a persona of malignant darkness. But that loving, sensitive boy has endured. He yearns to be free again, and I’m convinced the dark side is no match for him.

[famousconfessions]

We will work it out

Title: We will work it out // Ed Sheeran Fanfiction // mature content

Author: @superkatesi & @famousconfessions

Rating: NC-17

Author's note: Sooo @superkatesi and I did a thing. Again. Every kind of feedback is appreciated! Enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

“Thank you, Miss. Have a great stay and enjoy the concert", the taxi driver greeted, as I got out of my cab, after an eternity of travelling. I went to the airport at 5 in the morning just to see that my flight to Detroit was delayed. That meant two more hours of waiting... two more long hours that kept me from seeing him. When I was finally on the plane I felt like a little kid waiting for Christmas. I could barely sit still for nine hours but I knew, once, that plane landed I was close to seeing him again.

It's been six weeks since he left to go on tour again and I just missed him like crazy. When I've just been crying on the phone he suggested that I'd come to visit him and I couldn't say no. So I managed to get a few days off, to spend two days with him in the US, booked a flight and... well, here I was. It took me another three hours to get from the plane to the stadium but I finally arrived and it felt like I could breathe again.

I got my bag out of the trunk and soon after I saw Kevin waving at me. “Heey, good to see you! Come on, Ed is already waiting for you”, ohh I loved to hear these words. I was shaking because I was so excited to see him again... So I followed Kev through the hallways and corridors of the stadium when he was suddenly there. But he was obviously in a hurry, three people were talking to him and he just nodded, but stopped when he saw me. His face lit up and my heart started racing...

“Hey love, sorry, gotta run. Interview. But you can join me and watch”, was all he could say, when someone shoved him further down the hallway. I do love visiting his concerts. I do love watching this boy putting his heart and soul into the thing that he loves the most. I always stood behind the guardrail admiring thousand of lights. Every time I saw him play gigs, I couldn’t believe that all these people came here to enjoy Ed’s performance. And actually, he couldn’t believe too. Every time he stepped on the stage, there was a huge grin of happiness on his face.

I followed him down the hall. I was walking pretty fast so I managed to reach him and gave him a lil kiss. “Good luck, love. Everything is going to be fine”, I murmured, as I squeezed his hand. “Thanks, babe. You look amazing, as always”, he answered, while scanning me from my head to toes. I was wearing black jeans, a lace top and a pair of sneakers. We entered a small room where everybody was waiting for Ed. He waved hello to everybody and took his seat in front of the reporter. I decided to grab some snacks, a can of beer and sat in the corner with my phone. Everything was going on as usual: some questions about his tour, the upcoming album, new tattoos, “Songwriter” , his charity work and then.. I noticed this girl leaning towards him and running her fingers down one of his bright tattooed arms.

She was pointing at different tats and trailing her fingertips around them. I rolled my eyes back: “Stay calm, turn away, it’s just the reporter. This is her work.” I kept on chewing crisps and thinking about this evening. After the concert we were going to enjoy each other’s company in a jacuzzi that was placed in his penthouse. “What about your relations, Ed? Are you happy?”, this girl smirked, and I felt a bit of a mocking tone. “I am! I am the happiest man on Earth”, he gave me this tender look of his, while answering. “So you're still in a relationship?”, she asked and I furrowed my brows at this question.

1. Why did she care? 2. Wasn't it obvious? Ed seemed a bit puzzled, too, but then he nodded. , “Yeah, I am. Actually she came to visit me, she’s just got here. It's not always easy because she's got a job in London, but whenever she gets some days off, she's trying to visit me and I'm going home as often as I can”, he explained nicely and gave the reporter a warm smile. God, he was way too nice to her, but that's just who he is and I actually loved that about him... just not when it came to girls who were obviously flirting with him.

“But isn't it hard to be in a relationship when you're such a successful superstar with so many female fans?”, like... what was her problem? What did she want to hear? I raised an eyebrow, shoving the last few crisps in my mouth, ready to fuck shit up. “Like... aren't you tempted sometimes?”, she winked at him and I cleared my throat, because that was fucked up. She must've been aware of the fact that his girlfriend was in the same room so how the hell was she comfortable asking him this question? I didn’t like that whole situation at all. This “amiable” reporter kept smiling and staring at him. I tried to give him a smile but I was aware that my inner side was trembling with anger. “Ed, how do you usually spend your evenings when your girlfriend is not around?”, she asked him, while stroking her knee. Ed is well-known for his good and sometimes extraordinary sense of humor.

He chuckled: “I mean, that’s a good question cause usually I go straight to my dark room. Cry, eat some popcorn and jerk off. Do you know another good way of spending your evening when you are all alone?”. I choked on my beer when I heard the last part of his answer. The reporter tilted her had back and started laughing as if she were a psycho. “You can always pick someone up for looong, heart-to-heart talks”, she gave him a nod and bit her lower lip. Okay, it was time to make her stop bitching around and give Ed a slap because he was way too soft. I was sitting and waiting for the end of this circus. At the end of the interview they hugged and Ed came up with an intention to kiss me. “Wanna find someone for good old talks, you prick?”, I hissed at him, stood up and went to the door. He tried to grab my hand but I pinched him and left the room. I walked down the hallway really fast, trying to get away from him because I heard his footsteps following me. I just wasn't sure if he knew what he was getting into, so it would've been better for him to just leave me alone. I travelled all this way from London to the US for him to greet me like we would see each other every day and then he was flirting with that skank. He just didn't know when to stop sometimes.

“Wait, love!”. “Fuck off! Just go and jerk yourself off, idiot”, I hissed at him, trying to move forward, but he got to me and finally grabbed my wrist. His touch felt like an electric shock to me and for a moment I felt the urge to kiss him, but I resisted. He didn't deserve it. Maybe he didn't even want it. “What's your fucking problem?”, was he serious? I just looked at him, not knowing what to say for a second. “You're not really mad at me for that jerking off comment, are you?” “Ugh, no! I'm not stupid! You really don't get it?” “No! And I don't wanna deal with this stupid crap right now, because I've gotta get up on stage! So whatever your problem is, get your shit together and don't act like a fucking cunt”, ohh he was pissed, I could see it in his eyes and I felt it because of the way how tight his fingers were wrapped around my wrist. It almost hurt a little. “Let go of me!”, I yanked my hand away, pushing him. God, right now I just wanted to punch him in the face. “Of course you've gotta get on stage, Mr. Superstar. Fuck you! I shouldn't have come here!”

I was so furious and I felt like I could burn this fucking venue down. I turned away and saw his back walking away. I grabbed a glass of water from the table and increased my pace in order to overtake him. “Sheeran!”, I screamed and at that exact moment I poured this damn water over his head. The water started running down his hair, glasses, scruff and his t-shirt. It became difficult to blink because of tears: “Fuck you, and fuck your damn way of life. Go and fuck her! I bet, she’s already wet for you!”. He was starring at me, he wiped away water from his glasses. I saw one of his assistants running to him with a towel and another bottle of water, irony. “10 minutes to go, Ed”, the assistant said, while looking puzzled at both of us.

“May we delay it for 5 minutes?”, he mumbled while drying his head and face with the towel. “Fine, everybody is ready.”, he said walking away and talking to someone on the phone. “Oh, you don't need to delay anything for me, Edward!”, I said, shaking my head. “Just do your thing, like you always do, because your fucking career is always first! Tours, interviews, studios. And us is in between, when it's comfortable for you, right?” “You're being ridiculous. What the fuck is wrong with you? I didn't force you to come here. You knew I'd be working, it's not like I promised something that I'm-” “Just go! God, leave or I swear I'm gonna punch you”, I threatened and I was serious. I couldn't even feel sorry for treating him like this, but I would probably regret it later. Right now, all I felt was anger and pain. I felt like he couldn't care less about me being here when I gave everything just to spend a couple of nights by his side. It hurt. A lot.

“You're fucking crazy. I'm gonna go play the show now and you need to calm down. If you won't, then you might as well get your crazy ass back to London right now!”, he said through gritted teeth, grabbing my chin harshly for a second, before he let go of me and left.

I hated him. I was about to explode. It was the first time I didn’t go outside to enjoy his angelic voice. Instead, I went to lie down on the couch in this small dressing room. I heard the crowd roaring when the cameraman was filming his way to the stage. I could foresee every second of this concert. Now he grabbed the guitar, appeared on the stage and everybody stopped breathing, literally. While waiting for him, I was pondering over today’s events and our future. I didn’t notice the moment when my eyes shut and I left this reality. I felt someone put some cover over me. There was dim light in the room, nothing bothered me and I didn’t want to go back from wonderland. When I opened my eyes I realized that I was napping on an old leather couch with a red flannel on top of me. Flannel=Ed. Ed...there was a fight between us, a glass of water and waves of indignation. I closed my eyes again hoping for washing these memories away. I inhaled the plaid’s smell. It was him: his cologne, soap, a bit of my body spray and coffee. There was nothing foreign...just us. There was no way I was gonna fall asleep again. “Where’s everybody? Are they gone?”. I sat on the sofa and looked around. The room was empty but I heard the sound of water and some murmuring mixed with humming. There he was.

I would always recognize the way he was humming because he would do it everywhere he went, but especially when he was in the shower. I got up from the sofa and went to the bathroom, but then I suddenly stopped, when I saw him standing in front of the shower cabin, almost naked. He just wore his boxer shorts and god, he was sweaty. Well, actually that was no surprise because it was fucking hot outside and he ran around a lot on stage. I just loved seeing him like that, his ginger hair plastered to his forehead, his colorful body glistening. He looked SO good I almost forgot I was still mad at him... but when he turned around and saw me I knew he definitely didn't forget.

“So... did you calm down? Or are you still an annoying little shit?”, he asked and just like that the anger inside of me was back. “No, I still hate your fucking guts!”, I replied, watching him roll his eyes at me. , “Hey, why don't I get that girl here from earlier? She's probably not annoying and I'm sure she'd jerk you off, since you like that so much!”, I hissed and I just finished my sentence, when he suddenly grabbed me. I didn't know what was happening until I felt fucking freezing water all over my body. He put me in the shower and turned the cold water on without blinking an eye. I screamed, instantly shaking, as my clothes got soaking wet with ice cold water. “Maybe this'll cool you down, love.” “ Fucking ginger!”, I screamed and bit his shoulder with all my might. Ed squealed and the next second I saw that the skin around my bite became dark red and there were my teeth prints. “ You’re gonna pay for it”, he grabbed my top and I heard a cracking sound. He was holding a part of my lace. “Do you want to ruin not only my life but my clothes as well, Sheeran?? Tell me!”, I kicked his leg and left that freezing shower. “If you want to leave, just leave but stop being so mean ”, he growled. Actually, I was ready to grab a bar of soap and throw it at his cute head. I turned and started glaring at him trying to burn a whole into his body. Probably, he had the same thoughts in mind. We had been standing like this for a while.

I noticed that there was a puddle under me because of my wet hair and clothes. Ed crossed his hands in front of his chest, closed his eyes and leaned on the shower cabin. I felt goosebumps on my skin and shivered. I was cold. It wasn’t fun and I didn’t want to live my whole life like this: constant fights, screams and rumors. Maybe I was not made for him. I took a deep breath and approached him. It was my last time watching him like this. I wanted him to be happy and do what he want without any obstacles. His colorful arms and belly, this English lion on his chest, freckles all over his neck and cheeks. I wanted to savor every detail of this man: his perfectly kissable lips, Tenerife blue eyes, almost transparent eyebrows. I dared to brush my palm against his ticklish scruff and silk curls. I knew that it would be better for him. He wouldn’t get lost without me. I touched his jaw line and kissed his nose. My makeup started running down because of the mixture of water and tears. I would survive without him. I was going to book a one-way ticket and leave that exact evening. “ I’m so sorry, Ed. I’m sorry for all these terrible words and actions. But I don’t want to hurt you and ruin your life”, I whispered sobbing.

“What are you talking about?”, he said harshly but I could see that he was worried about my sudden change of heart. I wasn't really angry anymore, I was exhausted and sad and confused. I just felt a heavy weight on my chest. Like I didn't belong here. Like everything that I thought was right, was actually wrong. “I'm talking about leaving. For good”, I said, trying to walk past him, but he wouldn't let me. He grabbed my arm, a lot softer than in the hallway before and looked into my eyes. “What? Because of that stupid fight? It wasn't even about anything, really. And now you want to throw it all away? Because of... that?”, he furrowed his blonde brows and I shook my head.

“No. But that stupid fight made me realize that all of this is just... it's... hopeless! It'll always be like this. You are on some tour, or in the studio or... somewhere, but sure as hell not home. And I can't deal with it anymore. I'm just missing you too much every time you leave... and that makes a monster out of me. The one you've seen today. I get angry for no reason and... I do these things to you”, I said, my voice trembling, my body shaking because of the cold. “I'm so sorry...”, I really was. I was ashamed of myself for pouring that water over him, screaming at him, throwing everything at him because I couldn't handle the whole situation. Of course, he did some fucked up shit as well, but actually he just responded to my crazy actions. “That's not true, don't say this. I'll always come back home, go on longer breaks... I mean... I love you and you know that!”, he let go of my arm, just to place his hands on my cheeks. He looked into my eyes, but I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don't know anything anymore, Ed”, I whispered and looked down to the floor. “Okay, it’s time to calm down. We’ll work it out, love. Nothing matters to me like you. You are my life. I want to spend every second of my damn life with you. I don’t need oxygen when you are around”, he was saying all these words while looking straight into my eyes. We have never had fights like this. Yep, we quarrel sometimes but it has never got physical when it comes to fighting. He said all these words to me and was waiting for my response.

“Ed, sometimes I feel like I’m not too good for you, honestly. You are the influencer, you are the biggest popstar of this decade, you are already a legend. What am I? I’m just a graphic designer working on some projects for local business. I can’t shine as bright as you do. And you deserve someone who can understand all the difficulties of this way of life”, I turned away because I couldn’t look at him. I just wanted to run till I would be out of breath. “Look at me, darling. I’m just a human being. I’m not special. Yes, I have a weird daily routine but without you I won’t be able to live even one week like this. You are special, you are my heart and soul. When you are with me, I feel like I’m home”, he hugged me, I couldn’t resist it and burst into tears. I felt like a child. “Shhh, baby. We’ll work it out. We keep working on our relations. You are my destiny”, he murmured and kissed me on the forehead. His words meant so much to me... but I had a hard time believing it. I really wanted to keep working on our relationship, I didn't want to lose him but I was scared. Scared that it would happen. That our relationship would fall apart. I couldn't even wrap my mind around it, because it was too painful. I just couldn't imagine a life without him anymore. And it seemed like it was the same for him, considering his words.

“I hope you're right”, I said quietly, so quiet that I wasn't sure if he heard me, but then he smiled and I knew he did. “Of course I am, I'm always right”, he wiped a tear from my cheek and now I couldn't help but smile back at him. It was just a small smile, but the pain I felt in my heart wasn't that bad anymore and there was something like hope lighting up again. I wanted to fight for this. For him. For our love. I wasn't just gonna give up on us. I couldn’t, even if it felt overwhelming and too much sometimes. I just didn't want to lose him. “Fuck, you're still shaking. Let's get you out of these wet clothes, love”, his voice got me out of my thoughts and I looked up to him again, not able to do anything. “I'm sorry for doing this to you”, his voice was only a whisper and it sent shivers all over my body... “Put your arms up”, he ordered softly and I did, letting him take off my soaked shirt. I was still freezing, but it felt good to get rid of these wet clothes. He then proceeded to take off my shoes, my socks and my jeans, before helping himself out of his boxer-shorts. “Come on, love”, he took my hand, leading me back into the shower and this time he turned on the warm water, which felt like such a relief on my cold skin, before he pulled me into his arms.

He started rubbing my back slightly. “ Relax, baby. We’re just two idiots who love each other to death”, he murmured. I tilted my head back and looked at him from this angle. He looked so tempting with the strands of hot water running down his face and chest. I turned without unclasping his arms and started kissing his chest. I loved every part of his extremely handsome body. I intertwined my hands round his neck and our lips met. This kiss was all-consuming, full of tenderness and real love. We were not in a hurry, everybody had already left, probably, we didn’t care. We were absorbed in the moment. We were savoring our bodies. I felt Ed’s ready-to-go cock bumping into my belly. I smiled slightly while kissing and dropped one of my hands down and let my fingers meet his flesh.

Ed moaned in my mouth and I gave him a long, wet stroke. “Wait, kitten...”, he articulated, while getting down on his knees and kissing my lower belly. I leaned on the wall and put my right leg on the step next to me giving him better access and an amazing view. He put his arms on my hips while nestling his face between my thighs and kissing all the way up to the spot where all of the nerves were concentrated at that moment. I was watching him there, under the hot water on this slippery floor and couldn’t help but dig my fingers into his hair. His soft curls. God, I loved them so much. I loved HIM so much. He kept placing soft kisses on my sweet spot and I swear it was a torture. It felt so good but at the same time I needed more. These feather light touches definitely weren't enough. “Teddy...”, I sighed, trying to make clear that I needed more. I saw a sly smile spreading across his face, as he held my hips into place, right before he twirled his tongue around my clit before sucking it.

Ohh holy shit. I took a deep breath and moaned, my hands now dropping to his shoulders for support. He switched from sucking to licking and back again, driving me absolutely mad and making me see stars dancing in front of my eyes. He then started licking up and down my slit, I could feel his scruff, the tip of his nose and then there were his fingers that made the sensation perfect. He flicked his thumb over my most sensitive spot, before he slipped one finger inside of me, then a second one. I bit my lip, closed my eyes, just concentrating on the beautiful things he did to me and my body.

“So dripping wet for me, aren't you, baby girl?”, he whispered against my sex and it was almost too much. I just nodded, moving against him, meeting his fingers, because I was greedy and still hungry for more. He added another finger and started rubbing my inner wall sending me to heaven. I dug my nails into his shoulders and began grinding against his face. “Teddy, I’m close. Just let me ride it...”, I whimpered and rolled my eyes back. “Here we go, kitten”, he growled and at that exact moment he got up, pinned me to the wall with his weight and put my right leg up in the air. I felt him sliding his head up and down my swollen opening. It’s was a bit difficult to keep balance but this feeling of his tip entering me...I was ready to stay like this for hours. He was not in a hurry.

Ed started giving me slow sloppy thrusts. “Love this tight little pussy of yours”, he growled and I felt his hot breath on my neck. I couldn't wait anymore and tried to rock this boat. “Do you want me to come in a second, huh?”, he bit my neck and continued his sweet slow torture. Every inch of his hard rock made me love him even more. I started moaning his name begging for mercy. “Teddy, please”, I begged, digging my nails deeper into his skin. I heard him growl, right before he pulled out off me and I looked at him puzzled. What the fuck? What was he doing? He couldn't just- A second later he turned me around, bending me over. My hands flat on the tiles of the shower, trying to get some support because now I knew what he was up to. He didn't wait any longer to slam his cock right back into my dripping cunt which made me scream out in pleasure. “Oh shit... oh my god”, my head fell back as he grabbed my hips, rocking me back and forth, increasing the pace thrust by thrust.

I felt him deeper inside of me, it was way more intense and I knew I couldn't last much longer, especially when his fingers found their way between my legs. He just knew how much I loved and needed that and it was enough to send me over the edge. I just screamed out his name, totally melting in his arms, when I noticed him tense up. His thrusts became just a little faster and deeper, before I felt him coming inside of me. God, I couldn't even put into words how much I loved these moments, these few seconds of pure pleasure from both of us and just that overwhelming feeling of love. The water was still pouring down. Our heartbeats echoed in my ears. His hands were kneading my waist very neatly and he placed a tender kiss on my forehead. “It’s time to leave this cabin of love and go back to our hotel room.”, he said and gave me a towel to dry my wet body. “I love you, Teddy”, I winked at him and slapped his fluffy butt cheek. “You are my naughty baby girl”, he grinned and pecked my nose.

In an hour we were sitting on the terrace of our room and stargazing. Ed’s fingers touched mine and squeezed my hand. I didn’t look at him at that moment but I knew that there was a happy smile across his scruffy face. I noticed a star falling from the sky and there was only one thing I’d wish- I want to spend the rest of my life with this man.

[arianakristine]

Title: Like My Mirror Years Ago            AKA The Prompt That Won’t Be Written

CHAPTER 11

                The next day felt strange.

                She wasn’t used to this kind of town. The small kind, the one where things don’t change and everything stays the same. She sticks out in a town like this. It’s why she prefers the big cities she can disappear into.

                And of course, she now had the added spotlight of being the birth mother to the mayor’s kid. After the strained yet honest conversation with the sheriff yesterday, she knew that the town must have a keen eye on the boy.

                She glanced out the window, noting the morning bustle. A brown and tan vehicle affixed with telltale lights atop drove to the parking lot just beside the diner, and her spine straightened. She had a plan, after all. If she was going to feel comfortable in this town, she was going to have to spend more time with the man.

                And learn to ignore the sharp mix of familiarity and desire that pricked her each time their eyes met.

                A knock sounded on her door, and she jolted in surprise. She crossed to the door and opened it, expecting blue eyes but meeting dark ones and a fangy smile.

                “Did you know the Honeycrisp tree is the most vigorous and hearty of all apple trees?” she says abruptly. Her voice is unnatural in its attempt at pleasantry, stilted and coarse. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, calculating and sharp. “It can survive temperatures as low as forty below and keep growing. It can weather any storm. I have one that I’ve tended to since I was a little girl. And to this day, I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.”

                The mayor holds out a bright, shiny red apple and she stares at it suspiciously. The monologue wasn’t exactly what she was expecting. “Thanks,” she said warily as she took it in hand.

                “I’m sure you’ll enjoy them on your drive home.”

                Emma barely kept the knowing smirk from her face. Ah, that’s what this was about. “Actually,” she said with a sneer. “I’m going to stay for a while.”

                Regina’s chin raised, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Henry has enough issues. He doesn’t need you confusing him.”

                Her brow raised and her shoulders squared, though she put on an unassuming smile. “All due respect, Madam Mayor, the fact that you have now threatened me twice in the last twelve hours makes me want to stay more.”

                “Since when were apples a threat?” she asked, brow arching.

                She barely kept from rolling her eyes. “I can read between the lines,” she muttered. She planted her feet and tried not to glare at the woman. “Sorry. I just want to make sure Henry’s okay.”

                Regina pursed her lips. “He’s fine, dear. Any problems he has are being taken care of.”

                Emma looked at her suspiciously, dread prickling her spine. “What does that mean?”

                Regina leaned forward. “It means I have him in therapy. It’s all under control. Take my advice, Miss Swan. Only one of us knows what’s best for Henry.”

                She thought about the sheriff’s resigned gaze, the ‘I don’t think she can.’ Sure, she knows what’s best. “Yeah, I’m starting to think you’re right about that,” Emma replied coolly.

                Regina glanced off as if to verify the empty hallway before she glared back at her. “It’s time for you to go.”

                Emma huffed. “Or what?”

                She glowered at her. “Don’t underestimate me, Miss Swan. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” She flicked her hair back and strode down the hallway after the blatant threat, taking the rest of the fruit with her.

                “What the hell does the woman have about apples?” Emma muttered and set it down by the nightstand. She grabbed her jeans off the chair by the dresser and yanked them on. She needed to get out of this room if she was going to make any progress.

                By the time she got down to the counter at the little diner the bed and breakfast was attached to, it was fairly busy. She had seen from the corner of her eye the man in the window booth, but was ignoring his presence for now. She needed to wait to have coffee in her system before she could begin. She needed that armor before speaking to him.

                A local paper was on the counter, so she grabbed it to glance through as the waitress made her way to her. She sighed at the mugshot on the front. “Seriously?” she muttered.

                “I’m sure you’re usually photogenic.”

                She didn’t even have to glance up. She didn’t even have to hear his voice. She could feel his presence appear at her side. “Yeah, usually,” she replied with a sigh.

                “Mugshots are always a little stark,” he said somewhat apologetically, and moved to sit next to her.

                She peeked up at him and swallowed. So much for being caffeinated. “Is that speaking from experience?” she challenged.

                A slow smile crossed his face, dimples apparent behind the scruff of his beard. “Well, I do tend to take them, Miss Swan.”

                She couldn’t help smiling, her head ducking as she tried to cover it. He was so damn disarming. He caught her off-guard in a way that was both off-putting and alluring, and god help her she wanted more of it. She folded the paper a couple times over and flung it to the side. “Did you come here for the coffee, or was there another reason for your visit?” she asked bluntly.

                He raised a brow, but took a long sip from his mug. “This is an everyday occurrence, being here,” he said, his accent light and plucky. “But yes, I suppose I could check in on you while I’m here. See what your plans are.”

                She opened her mouth to answer something about not needing to clear any plans with him, when a mug was slid across the booth by the smiling waitress.

                “I think you have an admirer,” the brunette said with an air of teasing, and then rested her chin on her palm as she looked between the two conspiratorially.

                Emma glanced down to avoid her gaze and the idea that the instant connection and familiarity with this man might be noticed by others. She noted the swirl of whipped cream dusted with cinnamon, the smell of chocolate and spice tempting. She smirked. “Thank you, but I did not order that,” she said, and then flicked her hair back to look at him accusingly. “Though I’m impressed you guessed that I liked cinnamon on my chocolate.”

                He looked amused, his dark blue eyes twinkling. “I didn’t send it.”

                “I did,” a voice chirped from a booth a couple feet down. A dark head popped up, grinning merrily. The kid. “I like cinnamon, too.”

                She felt herself soften as she saw him. He sounded so cautious, but his eyes were bright and his shoulders straight as he craned his neck up to better look at her, a wide, mischievous smile on his face. She could bet that she could set her younger self down next to him and find that exact expression.

                Graham turned, facing the boy with a challenging look. “Henry. Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

                The flare of something both envious and wistful jumped in her chest. He sounded so fatherly, stern but still soft. She needed to facilitate this, needed to have them close enough to insulate the kid from whatever indifference his mother stalked over him.

                “Duh,” Henry said indelicately. He jumped out of the booth and adjusted the backpack on his shoulders, a smug grin crossing his face. That one wasn’t her, wasn’t Neal … why was it familiar? He locked eyes with her, the green bright in the fluorescence of the diner. “Walk me,” he demanded.

                Graham turned to her, his face wholly amused. “You should do that,” he said simply, a grin half hidden by his cup.

                She bit her lip, a memory almost on the back of her mind. “Maybe you should join,” she said. If she was to implement this, best to start now.

                He hesitated, obviously not used to being invited to be with the kid. “Wouldn’t impose. You two should go,” he said.

                Henry approached them, swiping a strand of messy hair back. He looked cautious, and gripped the straps a little before he nodded. “No, it’s okay. Come with us, Sheriff.”

                He still seemed cautious, even as he rose to his feet. He buried his hands in his pockets and gave an uncomfortable smile before shrugging one shoulder. “I guess you could use a police escort.”

                She rolled her eyes at him and placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder, guiding him to the door. The kid beamed up at her, light in his steps. She stuck her hand in her pocket and retrieved the lone apple, tossing it back and forth nervously.

                Once on the street, headed for the school, she sighed. “So, what’s the deal with you and your mom?” she asked bluntly. Maybe she could catch the kid off guard, get him to reveal something.

                She noticed the sheriff’s side-long glance, but ignored it for now.

                Henry turned suspiciously back to them but shook his head. “It’s about not us. I told you, it’s the other thing,” he said.

                “What other thing, Henry?” Graham asked softly. His hands were making tight fists at his side, the only reaction to what they were saying.

                Henry stopped abruptly and turned to them both. His eyes narrowed on them and his head tilted. “Can I trust you, Sheriff?”

                The man smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I would hope so, Henry,” he replied.

                Henry hesitated, glancing up to Emma once before refocusing on him. “You won’t say anything to my mom?”

                Graham hesitated, but finally took one finger to make an “x” over his heart.

                Henry slumped in relief and turned once more, walking towards the school again. “It’s the curse,” he said, then slowed his pace enough to fit right between the both of them. He linked their arms conspiratorially and craned his neck up. “She cast a terrible curse on all of you, making you forget who you are. Emma’s the only one that can break it.”

                Emma felt a little bit strange linked so close with the boy, but it was worse with the Sheriff attached to the other side. Her heart stuttered for a second when she realized how they must look, all together. She shook the notion off and forced a smile. “Everyone in the town is a fairytale character, you see, they just don’t know it,” she explained.

                “Yep! And time’s been frozen -- until Emma came back.”

                “Oh?” Graham said, and an eyebrow cocked. “Who am I then, Henry?”

                He hummed as he thought, but shook his head. “I haven’t figured you out yet. But my mom’s the Evil Queen. And Archie? He’s Jiminy Cricket. Ruby is Red, a werewolf. And then there’s Mary Marg--“

                “Where do you get these things, kid?” she mumbled under her breath.

                He sighed in exasperation. “I told you, the book. You’d know if you just read it.”

                “Should I read it?” Graham asked.

                He looked thoughtfully. “Maybe. But Emma’s the one to break it, so she needs to first.”

                “Sounds complicated,” Graham said, just the barest hint of amusement in his tone.

                “Luckily, I have a plan. Step one – identification. I call it Operation Cobra.”

                “Cobra?” Emma asked. “That has nothing to do with fairy tales.”

                Henry nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. It’s a code name to throw the Queen off the trail.”

                Emma felt herself getting uncomfortable and dug around her pockets for something to do. She found the apple and brought it to her mouth.

                “Hey!”

                Emma paused, looking down at the kid.

                “Where did you get that?”

                Emma traded a glance with Graham and then shrugged a shoulder. “Your mom.”

                He snatched it from her. “Don’t eat that!” He tossed it over his shoulder, where it landed on the street with a soft thud.

                “Oh, uh – all right.”

                “Evil Queen, huh?” Graham murmured. “Like in Snow White?”

                “Exactly! See, Emma, he gets it!” Henry exclaimed.

                “Okay,” Emma said. She looked up to find the sheriff’s blue eyes again, and decided to try a little reason. “What about their past, then?”

                “They don’t know,” Henry said somberly. He looked up to the sheriff sympathetically. “It’s a haze to them. Ask anyone anything, you’ll see.”

                She’s about to laugh it off above the kid’s head with the man, but froze once she saw his expression. His gaze was distant, fogged, and he cleared his throat before turning his head away. She felt a nervous dip in her stomach. “So, for decades, people have been walking around in a haze, not aging, with screwed up memories, stuck in a cursed town that kept them oblivious,” she said, trying to piece through his beliefs.

                Henry grinned. “I knew you’d get it. That’s why we need you. You’re the only one who can stop her curse.”

                Emma grimaced and stopped, turning to the kid. “Because I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?” she said dubiously.

                Graham glanced up at her from behind Henry, and he smirked. “Is she, then?” he asked, and some of the playfulness is back. “A fairytale princess?”

                Henry nods. “Exactly. She’s the one destined to break the curse, the only one who didn’t go through it back in the other world.”

                Graham nodded seriously, then looked up at her. “Explains her shy, delicate sensibilities.”

                She scoffed.

                Henry shook his head, but kept his smile. “Right now, we have the advantage. My mom doesn’t know all this.”

                Graham placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder, tilting his head to look down at him. “If she’s the Evil Queen, wouldn’t she know?” he asked.

                Henry shook his head vigorously. “I took out the end. The part with Emma in it.” He reached into his bag and pivoted to her, thrusting the pages out triumphantly. “See? Your mom is Snow White.”

                She glanced at the page Henry provided. A blond man crouched in front of a tree or something, blood staining the middle of his white shirt. He held out an infant tucked into a blanket, “Emma” across the side of it. She thought of her own blanket, the purple stitching that scrawled her name, but the cartoonish drawing was a long way from it. Pretty interesting coincidence, though. “Okay ….”

                “That’s Prince Charming holding you,” Henry explained.

                “Kid …,” she said, haltingly, hesitantly. She didn’t know how to redirect him, and she glanced a little helplessly at the other adult.

                “It’s okay,” Henry said quietly. “I know the hero never believes at first. If they did, it wouldn’t be a very good story.”

                She realized in that second how lonely the kid must be, if he believed everyone was in a fog. She needed to muster up something, some semblance of reassurance for the kid.

                But it was Graham who rested a hand on the boy’s head, getting his attention. Henry turned to face him. “How long did it take for you to believe?” he asked gently.

                Henry made a face, then his brow furrowed. “Something always felt wrong. With the town, with her. But when I got the book, it all made sense.”

                Graham kneeled in front of him, brushing his hair back. In a split second, she could read the loneliness on his face as well. It was all too familiar. “You need to believe something, don’t you, Henry?” he said tenderly, his soft eyes sad.

                She blinked, staring at the kid and the man together. Her heart seized at the image. Internally, she shook herself out of it. The two spent time together, it was only natural they’d pick up some mannerisms, making them look alike.

                Henry blew out a breath, and finally faced Emma again. “If you need proof, take them. Read them. But whatever you do, don’t let her see these pages. They’re dangerous. If she finds out who you are, then it would be bad.”

                She took the pages, making sure her hand didn’t shake. She gave a grimace more than a smile, but Henry lightened to see it.

                He turned to check across the street, seeing the milling of kids behind the gates. “I got to go. But I’ll find you later and we can get started. Sheriff … do you wanna help?”

                “Of course, little prince,” Graham said.

                Henry grinned widely.

                Emma’s shoulders squared, realizing that she was already making progress with the two. She could push this, nudge it more like. Now that Henry allowed Graham into this little group, this Operation Cobra, it would be easy. She could facilitate it, make sure that the two bonded and made a connection that could last. The kid could have someone he trusted, could learn to better deal with his mother when there was someone on his side. It would make it easier when she left in two weeks. Her hand curled around the pages, her smile growing.

                Henry walked across the street, and then flipped back to catch her eye. “I knew you’d believe me!”

                Emma opened her mouth, then hesitated. Affection bloomed in her heart, and she tried desperately to stamp it down. Finally she shook her head. “I never said that!”

                His smile grew smug, and he walked around a woman with cropped hair. “Why else would you stay?”

                Emma turned to Graham, finding him hiding a smile of his own. He reached back and scratched the back of his neck. He looked younger, carefree. Certainly not the glimpse of what she saw behind the façade a moment ago. “You look happy with yourself,” she accused.

                “The lad doesn’t understand that there is another reason. Other than Operation Cobra, and certainly other than the cocoa in this town,” he answered, smiling at her.

                She pressed her lips together. “Maybe not the reason you think,” she countered, but glanced toward the school and felt her heart wrench. You can’t get close, she reminded herself.

                His hand hovered close but didn’t quite touch hers. “I told you – it’s a good thing, I think.”

                She could feel the part of her that could get lost in him slip, and carefully pulled back.

                “It’s good to see his smile back.”

                She turned to the new voice, Henry’s teacher, the one with the credit card. She was a welcome distraction. She shrugged at her implication, though. “I didn’t do anything.”

                Mary Margaret’s head tilted, and she shared a knowing glance with Graham before smiling warmly at her. “You stayed.”

                She wanted to roll her eyes when she caught the grin the Sheriff was sporting now, but only crossed her arms. She felt uncomfortable enough was all this attention, and these two insisting that Henry might benefit from her presence was disconcerting.

                “So, does the Mayor know you’re still here?” Mary Margaret asked politely.

                Emma did roll her eyes at that. “Yeah, she knows. What is her deal? She’s not a great people person. How did she get elected?” she asked, directing it to them both.

                Mary Margaret gave a sympathetic nod at that. “She’s been mayor for as long as I can remember. No one’s ever been brave enough to run against her. She inspires quite a bit of, well, fear.”

                She turned to Graham to see his opinion on that, but he was staring at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets as he frowned. Maybe there was something she was missing.

                Mary Margaret shrugged. “I’m afraid I only made that worse by giving Henry that book. Now he thinks she’s the Evil Queen.”

                “Did he say who he thinks you are?” Emma asked curiously.

                She looked embarrassed, giving the answer away immediately. “It’s silly,” she said.

                Graham shifted. “Ah, then you did get assigned. He didn’t have one for me quite yet,” he said.

                Mary Margaret laughed under her breath. “Oh, you just give it time.”

                Emma shook her head. “I just got five minutes of silly, believe me, lady. Lay it on me.”

                She tucked into herself, blush rising in her cheeks at the same time as her shoulders shrugged up awkwardly. “Snow White.”

                Emma’s mouth parted as realization struck over her. Henry thought his teacher was her mom? His grandmother? She looked the teacher over, still unable to find a coherent sentence. This was too much.

                And dammit, Graham knew, too. She looked to him, finding him just as startled.

                “Who does he think you are?” Mary Margaret asked.

                Emma looked her over, and cursed over the fact that there was enough similar in this woman to support a poor kid’s fantasy. Well, this just got complicated. She shook her head. “I’m not in the book,” she said.

                She could feel Graham’s stare at that, and she gripped the pages in her hand a little more. She wasn’t. At least, not according to Henry, once he ripped those pages out.

                “I should let you go,” Emma said, still a little shaken.

                Mary Margaret smiled, and nodded to Graham before following her students into the building.

                “Maybe I need to talk to his therapist,” Emma said, rubbing her hands together to warm them. She felt so cold all of a sudden.

                Graham nodded. “Could be an idea. His name is Archibald Hopper. He’s just off the road a ways.”

                She nodded and blinked hard. At least he wasn’t teasing about the schoolteacher being her mother. “Okay. Some answers, good.”

                “Perhaps I should come?” he asked.

                She looked up, those stunningly soft blue eyes set on her. Slowly, she shook her head. “No. Thanks,” she said, and furrowed her brow. She needed some time to catch her breath anyway. “This one I need to do myself.”

                If she needed to fight to get this kid happy, she was going to do it.

 *

Eleven Years Ago

*

                 “I know how to fight.”

                He looked up at her, amusement clear in his soft blue eyes. “Of that, I’m sure,” he said, but tossed her the stick anyway.

                Indelicately, she fumbled with it, dropping it almost immediately. She huffed and looked back up with a feigned glare. “Maybe not with swords, but those aren’t so common where I’m from.”

                He shrugged. “Perhaps it’s your perspective that’s off. It was meant to look like a blade, but not a sword,” he teased.

                Her lips pursed. They were at the inlet, spending the clear day just hanging around their camp. She had gotten used to him teaching her things here and there, an old request taking shape easily. This, however, was new. She wiped her hands over her jeans and then grabbed it up again. “So, you want me to pretend it’s a Swiss army knife or something?”

                This time, he didn’t even manage to look baffled at what she generally knew to be an anachronism. “Or something,” he echoed, and flipped his own in hand.

                She lunged forward before he could, a giggle escaping as he twisted away, missing him by inches. He darted away as she slashed out carelessly, grinning widely as he did. There was a lightness to his movements, something she’d noticed long before but took the chance to admire now.

                She made a few more quick jabs, ones he easily deflected. She could hold her own at the homes she’d been in, but she had made it a preference to run before fighting, and this all was more in jest than serious instruction. Initiating the attacks felt a little unnatural nonetheless, but she soon came to anticipate his movements.

                Finally she flipped the branch around and caught his forearm. His eyes snapped to hers in surprise, and his smile turned playfully feral.

                He yanked an arm around her waist, dragging her close with the broken branch pressed against her back. His eyes were practically twinkling. “You should be quicker than that.”

                She tried to sweep her leg to pull his out from under him, but he pitched forward instead of back. It sent them both to the ground. She let out a small squeak at the unintended fall, but he caught her before her head could topple against the dirt. They both got covered in it as the dust settled around them, wide eyes on each other.

                She took a second before peals of laughter escaped her, and soon she found the answering rumble from deep inside his chest. He looked his age with the mirth in his eyes, curls tousled and sun outlining his features and again she was struck by how handsome he was. Still smiling widely, she shifted up to her elbows, pushing herself into his space. She hovered there, beats passing as they sobered.

                His eyes changed as he seemed to notice how close they were. She felt his hands tighten around her hips, and a rush of something encompassed her. She felt flush, warm, slightly dizzy with it. His eyes, they were not their usual grey-blue, deep and mysterious. Instead, the pupils had blown wide across his irises, making them darker than she’d ever seen. His breath was hot against her lips. Her breathing was suddenly shallow and heavy, and just a centimeter closer would mean everything.

                They had been close before, when opening eyes in early morning to find the other’s far too close. When there was a certain heat involved when accidentally brushing fingers as they passed food to one another. But this time they did not part just as quickly as they got into that state, did not jump away.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even though she was the one to come closer. She almost didn’t recognize her own voice. She sounded winded, her tongue practically caressing the syllables into a seductive tone she was sure she didn’t actually mean.

His eyes flicked down her body before resting once more on hers. A fractional incline of his head almost went unnoticed, his nose barely touching hers. “I d’nno.” The callous of his fingers rode up along her skin, where it was exposed as the cloth of her straggly tee bunched up. The slight brush left a trail of stung nerves, hyperaware. But he stopped, lingering in her space and halting all movement save the bounce of his pupils to take her in.

His hesitance proved he really didn’t know. But Emma, she’d seen the movies, the tv shows, had peeked in on the older kids, had awkward moments with others. She knew what came next. Without further prompting, she bridged the distance, brushing her lips against his, feather-light, experimental.

He drew in a ragged breath, and his head lolled down. Teeth scraped her neck just barely, before he nudged his forehead along her hairline. “I—“ he began, but then his lips come back to meet hers, and the words were lost.

She sighed at the contact. The kiss was somewhere between tentative and demanding, a testament to both inexperience and sheer desire.

With the miniscule amount of experience she had, she guided him into deepening the kiss. She coaxed his mouth open, brushing her tongue against his. He responded easily, only a step behind in matching her movements and then taking the initiative to explore. They matched each other’s actions, mirroring, until she felt like they were drinking each other in. It was … heady.

She broke only briefly to suck in a deep breath, and he still sought her skin with his lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders, pressing him all the closer. One of his hands carded through her hair, the other smoothed against her bare spine to press her harder against his chest.

She thought back to the Gracey home, to Tyler, and didn’t understand how she could have possibly ever called that kissing.

This was kissing. This was intimate, warm, with an unchecked desire that thrummed with power. Somewhere teetering between balanced and uncontrolled, unfamiliar yet with a brush of rightness.

Excitement tingled down her, coupled with a heat that made her want something. She couldn’t stop touching him, and her own hands slipped under his shirt and over hard muscle, kissing and nipping at his lips as he did the same. She bent her knee, using the leverage to push herself into him and he pulled in tandem, their bodies lining up in a way that made her lightheaded.

Suddenly he stopped with his face inches from hers, blinking hard. Quickly, he extracted himself from her, shock touching his stature. Cold washed against her, eyes widening at the sudden loss of his warmth. She licked her lips, still panting as her heart raced. “Wh-what?”

His mouth was parted, breaths short and ragged. He shook his head, a brief flash of disappointment in his gaze as he licked his lips. “Footsteps,” he said simply.

She sucked in a sharp breath and pulled down the hem of her shirt; it had ridden up well past the edge of her rib cage. She listened, not yet able to hear the telltale crunching. “How far?”

He was still. “Two minutes,” he said surely. He grabbed her hand and helped her stand. His face was still flushed, eyes still dark as he looked at her. He reached out, running his thumb across her bottom lip before he shook his head, clearing it. “We have to go.”

She nodded, and bent to collect their things by the trees.

There was something heavier this time as his hand reached for hers, as the longing clicked inside her when theirs palms met. She tried desperately to ignore it again as he guided them away, carefully and gracefully dodging trees and brush as he led them to their secondary camp.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she knew she couldn’t be sure that their routine would be the same once they reached it.

[sprinklesandsugarcubes]

Candy Cane Kisses

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Sweet Pea x Aurora (Word Of Mouth) Rating: NSFW, Mature Format: Part One of Twenty-Five; 3,347 Words Warnings: This is pure sin, total smut. That’s it. This piece contains; Daddy Kink, Kissing/Touching, Teasing, Unprotected Sex (Fuck responsibly, loves!), Spanking, Biting/Marking, Pet Names That Will Make You Melt, etc. If any of these things bother you, turn back now!

Note: This was created with my OC character from Word Of Mouth in mind, Aurora will be SP’s partner in each of these. Tagging is being bitchy, don’t think I’ve forgotten any of you if your tag doesn’t work! Trying to figure it out! Enjoy!

It was the candy cane that was going to do it.

She was sitting there, perched up on that bar-stool like she had always been there, like she hadn’t come into his life from the side of the tracks that he typically (and still sort of did) loathe. All five feet and four inches of her, outfitted beautifully in a dress that left both her creamy shoulders and long, flawless legs on display. Which was why his heavy leather jacket hung over her shoulders and draped down her back, the Serpent emblem looking a mixture of enticing and enthralling as it peeked out from beneath her strawberry blonde tresses.

He cursed lowly, shifting where he stood behind the pool table, dark eyes never leaving her laughing form and hardly listening to Fangs Fogarty as he rambled on.

The moment he saw Topaz dangle the sweet, red and white striped treat in front of his girl’s face, he knew he was doomed. She had been primed and ready to go for the Christmas season long before Thanksgiving had come to a close, anxiously awaiting the moment she could indulge in all that her favorite season had to offer. She was starting early, given that it wasn’t yet midnight, but Toni had tempted her with the candy cane all night long, and she had finally caved.

Sweet Pea groaned when she dipped the candy into her mouth, wrapping her lips around it in a way that was all too familiar.

And something he hadn’t experienced for nearly a month.

…if he made it through the next hour, that is.

The redheaded girl sat on a worn, yet all-too-comfortable, couch; her back propped up against the arm and her legs stretched out along the cushions. Her head leaned against the plush cushioning of the backing, and the fingers of one hand buried into a head of silken strands that were an inky black in color. They belonged to a boy, one who had laid down practically on top of her after trudging through the door, his head pillowed on her chest and his long legs tangled with hers. Her fingers carded idly through his hair as she admired the shadowy strands, hardly paying attention to the words he was speaking as she lost herself in his warmth, the heady scent of pine, leather, sandalwood, and everything that was just…him.

Her free arm laid over the curve of his shoulder, fingers drawing indescribable patterns across his chest, when she finally caught on to what he had been saying. The words had been spoken so casually, as if they were nothing out of the ordinary, slipping off his tongue in a low rumble that vibrated through his back and into her chest, bringing with it a pleasurable zing that rippled over her skin every time he spoke. She blinked slowly, her lips pressed into a confused frown as she tipped her head to the side, her eyes cutting toward the back of his head.

“Wait…” She trailed off, a single eyebrow arching. “You want to what?”

Propping her chin up so that it met and leaned against his shoulder, the tip of her nose brushed along the column of his neck. Unable to resist, she pressed a small kiss to the black ink that had been etched into his skin long before, tracing the serpentine design. A low, deep groan echoed in his throat as he sunk even further back into her chest before he coughed and cleared it, tipping his head to meet her eyes with the deep, dark pools of chocolate brown that belonged to him. They glinted playfully at her in the dim lighting, the edges crinkling just the slightest as a grin twitched at his lips.

“No-Nut-November,” He explained, as if she should know exactly what that meant. “Fogarty dared me to make it all the way through, and you know I don’t turn down dares.”

Aurora sat up suddenly, dislodging Sweet Pea from his comfortable position, purposefully ignoring his quiet protests as he tried to force her back down with his weight. She smacked his shoulder lightly; her lips pressed into a thin line as she side-eyed him, regarding his apparent seriousness over the matter and his genuine confusion over her sudden movement.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” She hissed, allowing a humored snort to escape her. “You want to attempt going an entire month, without any sex? At all?”

He shrugged lightly, as if it was a nonissue.

“Sweets, we barely make it a single day without-“

Chuckling quietly, he leaned his head back on her shoulder, making sure to brush his lips along the curve of her neck in the same place that she had with him. “We can make it, babygirl.”

She was ready to disagree, quite emphatically, when the words died upon her lips as the realization washed over her. The sheer opportunity a challenge like this would provide was too much to simply ignore. It was always her that was unprotected against his charms, melting into a puddle at his feet with a mere sentence or two. For once, he would be completely at her mercy, unable to use everything he possessed to tease and take her if he wished to win the bet Fangs Fogarty had made with him. The chances to tease Sweet Pea to the brink of his sanity would be many, and the possibilities of what she could accomplish, great.

Biting down on her lip to quell the devious smirk threatening to overtake her face, Aurora gave a seemingly uncaring and indifferent shrug.

Game. On.

Aurora cut her eyes to the side, instantly finding the tall and impressive stature of her boyfriend looming across the bar, inhaling sharply when she found his eyes already pinned upon her, waiting for her gaze.

They looked near black from across the room, so dark that any trace of brown and the specks of hazel lurking within them had long since disappeared. His jaw was tight, the muscle ticking from time to time, making the smooth skin jump. His shoulders were squared, his chest rising and falling a little rapidly for simply standing in a bar, playing a game of pool. Speaking of which, she was pretty sure that if he gripped the pool stick in his hand any tighter, the feeble wood was going to splinter into a pile of tiny pieces.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, her tongue switching the candy cane between her lips from one side to the other as she glanced around quickly, searching for the source of his barely leashed control.

Finding nothing, she looked back to him, ready to slip from the stool and cross the room to his side as a precaution. She paused though, when she caught the way his eyes had flicked lower, unable to tear away from the sight of the Christmas candy pressed tightly between her lips, the sudden bout of aggression suddenly making perfect sense.

Lips curling into a smirk, she crossed one leg over the other in the slowest of movements, making sure that the hem of her dress inched up her thigh just the slightest bit.

Sweet Pea’s lips pulled back into something that resembled a snarl.

His eyes looked like inky flames as they darted back up to hers, pinning her in place with the smoldering expression. A shiver of both excitement and anticipation rippled violently down her spine, making her visibly shudder in place, and his lips twisted into a smirk that was as frightening as it was utterly sinful. His chest heaved a little, pulling the black shirt he wore tight across the expanse, his muscles twitching beneath it. Her teeth would have been buried in her bottom lip, had Aurora not had the candy cane still wedged firmly between them.

Breathing shallowly, her finger hooked around the curve of the treat, pulling the sticky candy from her mouth slowly, dragging it along her lip as she did.

The creaking of the pool stick could be heard from across the room.

Flicking her tongue out, she watched the way his entire body tightened as she licked up the length of the candy, taking care to curl it around the tip in a quick circle before her lips closed around it once more, puckering as she dipped her head down and slid the treat along her tongue. She held it there for a moment, then proceeded to slide it in and out of her mouth in quick succession, stopping only to breathe, her pink lips shining with the stickiness of melted candy cane.

Sweet Pea lunged forward a step, startling the group of Serpents he stood with and wrecking the game of pool as the table shifted, sending the colored balls rolling along the green felt.

He tossed the pool stick down, an echoing snap ringing out across the bar, drawing attention from those nearest to him. Aurora froze, her eyes widening in surprise, the candy cane falling to her side, forgotten.

She was in so much trouble.

And she was going to enjoy every fucking moment of it.

Her back connected with the door to the garage apartment with a power behind it that was enough to make the walls shake.

She didn’t have time to even register the slight sting, because his lips crashed down on hers with a force that was enough to bruise. Not that she cared. Her gasp echoed through the quiet, followed quickly by a rumbling growl from him as his tongue slipped between parted lips, mapping out every inch of her mouth as if it were the first time he had done it. One of his hands smoothed up the side of her neck, his tattooed thumb curving with the line of her jaw and his remaining fingers tangled within the windblown strands of her hair, careful that his rings didn’t pull the silky locks.

Parting their lips for breath, Aurora threw her head back against the solid wood, mewling quietly as Sweet Pea trailed his lips along her neck, finding a place just beneath her jaw that made her shiver in his arms.

His smirk could be felt against the sensitive skin, closely followed by a sharp suckling that would more than likely leave his mark behind for all to see. As if that wasn’t enough, he gripped the creamy skin between his teeth, biting down playfully until she whined and squirmed against him. The movement left her reeling, the hardened length of him pressed tightly against her stomach, easy to feel through the thin layer of her dress.

“What,” He breathed, stepping closer toward her, until she was trapped between his body and the door at her back. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

Her whimper fed the smirk that grew upon his lips, peering down from where he towered over her.

“Did you want something, pretty baby?” Sweet Pea taunted, his free hand teasing along her side after sneaking beneath the leather of his jacket still hanging upon her shoulders.

Aurora squirmed even harder, her hips arching upward as she stood on her toes, desperate to close the space that had opened between them.

“You see,” He trailed off, a single finger caressing a soft path up her stomach, smoothing up the valley of her breasts with his knuckle as she shuddered from the small touch, and the way his fingers tightened in her silky hair. “I want to tease you, just like you have been teasing me, all month long.”

The sentence was finished in a growl, the sound all predator, his gentle side hidden beneath a feral craving that could only be described as both ravenous and primal.

“Please,” She whispered, her thighs already quivering, the idea of such teasing almost too much for her to bear in the moment.

Shifting again, she hoped to gain a little friction, if not from him then from the way her thighs clenched together so tightly, prolonging the ache. His eyes flickered down to catch the movement, however, prompting him to abandon the grip on her hair, each hand cupping the back of a thigh before he lifted her up into the air. She let out a squeak of surprise, her eyes widening and her arms wrapping around his neck for balance, the nails of one hand biting into the spot between his shoulder blades. He groaned, latching on to her collarbone that had been left in front of him, bare and tempting, the perfect height now that she was in his arms, to take between his lips and nibble at. His breath swept across her skin as he turned, powerful strides leading him toward the bedroom as he mouthed at her skin, leaving behind multiple reddish purple marks in his wake. Aurora shuddered in his arms once more, her head tipping back until her throat was bare to him, the act of submission only feeding the hunger that ran white-hot and blazing through his veins.

He dropped her on the plush mattress with little warning, earning him both a squawking sound and a playful glare.

“Sweet-“

Huffing, his long fingers wrapped tightly around her ankles, flipping the redhead onto her stomach so quickly, her vision swirled. She gasped, unable to catch her breath from both the pleasure and the surprise before he had yanked the skirt of her dress over her ass, baring the ivory skin for his viewing pleasure. He didn’t stop there, however, choosing instead to grip her by the hips, pulling Aurora up onto her knees shortly before his big, warm hand clapped down on the right cheek of her ass.

“Fuck!” She squealed, jerking forward in shock, the sting spreading over her sensitive skin.

“Excuse me?” He growled, leaning over her until his fingers wove into her hair and the outline of his cock pressed tightly up against her already soaked core. “What did you call me?”

He yanked her head back and smacked his hand down on the opposite cheek, all in one smooth movement.

“Daddy!”

Sweet Pea shuddered when her cry rang in his ears, his eyes squeezing closed as he leaned down over her, his lips trailing up her spine as he pushed the soft material of her dress up and over her shoulders, allowing it to pool near her hands.

“It’ll have to wait though,” He muttered to himself, ripping the bra from her body and the lace from between her thighs. “Too long…been too fucking long…”

Aurora hissed as he trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh before smoothing them over her core, the slickness coating his fingers as he groaned deep in his chest, the rumbling sound prompting her back to arch and her hips to shift from one side to the other. He stilled her movement, cupping her mound and tugging once on her hair, making her gasp. She whined when his fingers suddenly disappeared, leaving her wanting, only for her to let out a low moan as the sound of a zipper sliding down and his black jeans hitting the floor with a thud, came from behind her.

He tapped the head of his cock against her entrance once, gathering her wetness, before he let go of her hair and wrapped both hands around her hips, pressing forward in one smooth, deep, mind-numbing thrust.

She screamed.

His shout of her name reverberated throughout the room and he leaned down over her, pinning her to the mattress beneath him as he pressed his forehead to the back of her neck, shaking with what little restraint he managed to hold on to. One long arm slid under her body, his warm palm large and soothing near her lower stomach, fingertips just falling short of her throbbing clit. The other snuck beneath her arm and rested at the base of her throat, his fingers curled loosely around it, giving a gentle squeeze as she gasped for air, her entire body quivering from the sudden invasion and stinging pleasure that followed. His lips brushed against the nape of her neck, soft and soothing, murmuring quiet words she could hardly understand against the skin.

“Please!” She cried, her fingers clawing at the sheets, hips canting upward into his. “Daddy, please! Oh god, please move!”

Groaning lowly against her neck, he basked in her pleas, reveling in the sound of them after such a long wait.

There wasn’t a single thing he could think of that he enjoyed more than being buried to the hilt inside of her, the silky and slick walls of her sex clamping down around his thick length, while her whines and whimpers pierced the air around them. It was a heady sensation, one that he knew he would never tire of, it just wasn’t possible.

Pulling back in a slow drag, he lifted himself from her back, watching the way tremors rippled down her spine as the head of his cock slid backwards over that sweet spot inside of her, only to lose her breath and collapse to her forearms as he pushed deeply back in. She gasped as he did it again, slowly measured and perfectly timed thrusts with enough force to jolt her forward across the mattress, leaving behind crumpled and tangled sheets in their wake.

Again Sweet Pea pulled from her, a predatory smirk curling his lips as he peered down where they were connected, just barely by the tip of his cock nestled into her opening. She whined pitifully, her hips jerking in his grasp, desperate to push back onto his length again. He didn’t allow it, choosing instead to admire the way her juices left behind a shiny slick along every inch of him that had dipped into her heated depths.

“Stop teasing me!” She suddenly growled, the sound kittenish compared to his. “And fuck me! Or have you lost your-”

It was a whirlwind of moans, shrieks, pleasure and skin smacking against skin after that.

Beads of sweat trailed across the strained muscles of his neck, smoothing out tiny tracks over the heaving expanse of his chest. His teeth were gritted against the onslaught, fighting to keep his pace as a zap of tingling heat raced down his spine, gathering at the base of it; white-hot and ready to implode. Aurora had forgotten what words sounded like, reduced only to the cries that left her lips and the whimpers of his name. She only knew him; surrounding her, crowding her, pinning her beneath him. Moving above her, inside of her, owning every bit of her soul.

Fire pooled in her belly, her legs had locked tightly around his waist at some point, and her hips arched upward into him as she breathed him in, lips never parting, even as their eyes remained open and their foreheads pressed together. Her eyes pleaded with him, begged him to give her everything.

He swiped his thumb over her clit once, and that was all it took.

The moaning scream that escaped her lips was only drowned out by his snarling shout after her muscles clenched down so tightly around his cock, it neared the point of pain. He throbbed and twitched harshly inside of her, the sensation one they could both feel, before warm ropes of cum flooded her insides, only prolonging the pleasure that wracked her frame and left her trembling beneath him, clinging on for dear life.

Sweet Pea dropped his forehead to her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck gently as he gave a final, lasting thrust.

His weight settled down over her carefully, knowing that she adored the way his body could wrap entirely around hers; legs tangled together, arms banding around her shoulders and torso, lips pressed to her temple. They didn’t speak, hardly moved, each of them content in their connection; one that they had been craving for weeks.

It was some time later that she finally spoke, tipping her head back to meet his dark chocolate eyes, her grin felt against the skin of his jaw. “So, did you win?”

Their laughter echoed into the night.

SweetPeasPodSquad Taglist

@half-and-halfxx @tofarawaytobreathe @serpent-princess @mi-ghostaa @sweetpeas-serpant @adventuresofchlocaine @bellamysgirl @obsessedqueenie @batmanslittlelover @becca-in-the-tardis @the-fifth-season @dramionelove190 @southsidepea @cinn-rawr @randomnesss-of-fandomness @kneesheee @bby-simone @im-not-perfect-im-proud @king-sweetpea @southsidenoodle @jxhn-mxrphy @kytty27 @itsashleydallas @podsquads-sinns @sweet-peas-serpents @riverdale-writer-sins @sweetpeasnecktattoo @poolpartyingwithjaws @psychoticprincex @1space-bitch1 @a-pimpnameslickback @daddisaddy @luna513 @squishyethan @nizza12-blog @typo-trash @ophelia-jadestone @jihyunncho @inspiredbynewt @penny4thoughts @bloomingapril @jl-loves-daisies @miss-mia-rae @johnmurphys-sass @lucystivinsky1315 @rebeccasinner-milk @sweetpealoveshisprincess @xforgetmen0tx @bitch-shut-tf-up @southsideslump @becca-in-the-southside @knoxwashere @mermaids-n-stuff @i-hate-these-people @skumar402 @tonitopazwrites @minelskede @queeeeennbb @cece-daughter-of-pitch-black @shay-del-rey @fandomnerdxox @nyckiss @bekah-mlkaelson @ultra5sosme @my-sweet-pea @always-klaus-forever-kol @totalelasticity @itsdanajane16  @geeky-girl-394 @xlijahsgirl @bitch-shut-tf-up @that-idiot125 @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @april-imagination @abagley115 @5sosandsoph @hello-jamie @sodasgurluniverse @juggysgirlfriend @reinadelaserpiente @shinketsukarasu @southsidestella @duchessdaisybat

[nieithryn]

Depa loves her Tree Grandma and is proud to take after her.  She will also fall to the Dark Side for her bby boy, and that’s just the truth.

click on pictures for full view but

depa takes after her grandma and i want that on PAPER

[kariachi]

Some Static Shock fanfic, as commissioned by @thenixkat, featuring Freida, Daisy, and Sharon gaining superpowers and coming together into their own superhero team.

It was seven weeks after the Big Bang when things got weird…er. Really that was most shocking part- that after a bunch of people got melted in a chemical explosion, and a load of other people got superpowers in the same explosion, and her friends started ditching her at random intervals, and she almost got eaten by a giant amoeba, there was still something that made Freida go ‘this is weird’.

“This is too fucking weird.”

Okay, ‘too fucking weird’, still. She was sat on her roof, where she had been- not stuck per say, but definitely not in a position to come down- for about an hour, watching the leaves in her yard go back and forth from one side to the other. The constant shifting of the wind would’ve been weird enough on its own, out here by the Lakes wind tended to change direction often but this was just ridiculous, but it was following her lead. Frieda moved her hand this way, the wind blew in that direction, she moved it the other way, the wind shifted. She swirled her hand around in front of her like she was stirring something? The wind turned into a small twister that sucked in the leaves and left them all piled in one spot.

If she’d known she could get the yard cleaned up that easily she wouldn’t have made the gesture to the sky that’d landed her on the roof in the first place. She supposed that theoretically she’d be able to use the same windy powers she was using on the leaves (and really, when had these shown up? why? when and why?) to get back down, but she wasn’t sure that she trusted it. After all, the worst-case scenario was that they stopped working while she was in the air and she plummeted, while if she stayed here eventually her parents would come home and get out the ladder. Then she’d have to come up with an explanation for why she was up there though.

Truly a lose-lose situation.

~*~

Her parents totally bought ‘I wanted to clean the gutters, but I couldn’t find the ladder, so I climbed the walnut tree’. They’d looked at her like she was a moron, and she was never going to be allowed to live this down, but they bought it.

~*~

As she practiced with her powers (in private, of course, ever since the Big Bang there were Opinions about anyone in Dakota who had superpowers and wasn’t Static) Freida contemplated her options. She wanted to help people, she already worked hard trying to better the world and keep people informed of what went on around them, and with these new powers of hers, she could do so much more. The idea of becoming a superhero, like Static, was tempting. Dakota had so much shit going on, so many Bang Babies causing trouble, and she could do something about it.

It took her a week of thinking, weighing pros and cons (“Pro- help people. Con- I do not have the kind’ve time you need for this.”) before she came to a decision.

Another week, forty dollars’ worth of black and amaranth fabric, a handful of sailor fuku patterns, and way too many failed attempts at using her mother’s sewing machine later- Hurricane was born.

~*~

Hurricane’s first attempt at stopping crime went surprisingly well. It turned out that the sort’ve people who rob convenience stores are also the type to get freaked out when doors suddenly slam open and a gust of wind drags them outside and drops them at the feet of somebody in thigh-high heels. They hadn’t known what hit them and when they’d tried to bolt she’d easily been able to sweep them into the air and hold them there until the police arrived.

The second was a little harder. That time the man was in an alley and much more level-headed. Hurricane had drug him away from the woman he’d been threatening and rather than spook and run he had instead decided his best bet was to open fire. Still, she’d managed to come away unharmed- the wind had carried her safely into the air in a breath and the gales she’d called down had made it nearly impossible for him to aim, right up until they ripped the gun clean from his hands. After that it had, again, purely been a matter of keeping him in one spot a few feet off the ground until law enforcement could come get him.

Annoyingly enough the first criminal to give her trouble was Hotstreak. It turned out, to their mutual aggravation, that they were stuck in a stalemate of sorts. Hurricane couldn’t get any real control over the situation, his own flight making her tendency to lock people in the air pointless and his fires too intense for her to put out without risking damaging the buildings around them. On the plus side, he couldn’t get any control either, as she could just blow his attacks right back at him. They spent a good twenty minutes circling each other in the air, volleyballing fireballs, before they both had to stop and breathe, glaring at each other across the airspace over a Burger Fool.

Thankfully Static had shown up at about that point, turning the tide in her favor. Working together they’d been able to take Hotstreak down and turn him over to the authorities with less trouble than either of them seemed to have expected.

~*~

“So, when did you plan on telling me about the whole ‘superhero’ thing?” Eyes blowing wide, Freida’s gaze shot up from her burger. Daisy was settling into the seat across from her, knowing smile on her face.

“How-?”

“Five times you’ve gotten annoyed with someone only for a sudden gust of wind to blow their stuff everywhere.” She popped a few fries into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Plus, I saw your costume last time I was over, and you don’t seem like half the cosplay nerd the boys are.” After a second or two staring at her friend, Freida sighed.

“Okay, I’m a superhero, happy?” Daisy snatched a few more of her fries.

“Nope. From now on, I’m helping you out.” Freida blinked, eyes still wide.

“Helping me out?” Daisy’s smile broadened.

“Well it’s not like I can just let you go it alone.”

~*~

Daisy’s basement turned out to make a pretty good base of operations. Her parents had long ago turned it over to her and her projects, and it had its own entrance from the backyard. Within a few days they had a tracker in Freida’s costume, access to police records and radio, and programs set to alert them to any strange sightings or occurrences around the city.

It wasn’t the Justice League Headquarters or anything, but a damn fine job for a pair of high school students.

~*~

For Daisy, her power reveal was a little bit more of a close call. It was five months or so after the Big Bang when she woke up feeling and looking absolutely miserable. Between helping Freida, her school work, and her own personal projects, she wasn’t getting near enough sleep and she could feel it, a tired ache down among her bones. On top of that, her hair was refusing to cooperate, the bags under her eyes were dark enough to draw in light like a black hole, and she had too many zits to even think about.

In a fit of teenage melodrama, she had wished with all her heart that she could just disappear.

Alas, life doesn’t stop for the tired or those with bad hair, and so she’d gathered her things together and headed off to school where, nothing had happened. Not the normal nothing, the ‘nothing interesting’, but, isolated nothing. Nobody so much as looked at her all morning. Nobody said hello. The teachers didn’t call on her. It was like she wasn’t even there. Just an empty patch of air threading its way through the halls and taking up her seat. Easily one of the creepiest experiences of her life. Come lunch she’d found herself heading for one of the lesser-used bathrooms, wanting to take some time to calm herself down, to relax. Went in, splashed some water on her face, looked up

There was nothing in the mirror.

Good news, the sight shocked her right back into visibility. Bad news, she hadn’t been visible all damn morning.

“That was too fucked up!”

~*~

“Where were you all morning?”

“Invisible, apparently.”

“…huh.”

~*~

That Saturday Daisy and Freida hopped a bus to the outskirts of town, where they could experiment with their powers without risking any company. Once you got out of the cities populations tapered off quick and by nine they were well out of the way of anybody who might see them or give them trouble.

They were methodical in their investigation, Freida hovering around in the air taking notes as Daisy first worked on winking herself in and out of view, and then began trying to do other things. She couldn’t float or hover. No ghosting through things. Unsurprisingly no possessing stuff either. Nor, it seemed, astral projecting, or shield generating. Then Daisy’d stepped into a beam of light and that had set off the most impressive lightshow either of them had seen outside of a rock concert.

Of course, focus went immediately there. Could she do that on purpose? Tests said yes. Could she do it without reflected light? If she tried. Could she generate light? To Freida’s amusement, yes there too. (“My bestfriend’s a flashlight.” “Shut up.”) The best part though, was when they were testing whether she could control the intensity of the light (yes) and discovered she could focus it into lasers.

Actual lasers.

That was going to be so awesome.

~*~

Of course, this meant Daisy was going to start helping out in the field, she had fucking lasers now. What person wouldn’t use that new ability to help their friend, especially if it meant saving the day? Especially if it meant you got to dress up.

Freida had taken this calling to superheroing as her chance to live childhood dreams of being a Sailor Scout, with a costume that was probably only two steps away from copyright infringement and the addition of some black leggings to protect her modesty. Daisy headed in a similar direction, recognizing an excuse to make herself up like Cardcaptor Sakura. One flowy purple dress, complete with ribbons, and a pair of nice yet functional boots later, all laden down with as much sparkle as possible (it served a functional purpose, how awesome was that?) and Ultraviolet was ready to go.

~*~

“‘Ultraviolet’. Of course, because nerds of a feather.”

~*~

Ultraviolet’s first few times out fighting crime went pretty well. Temporarily blind a robber here. Disorient an aggressive drunk there. She couldn’t use her light powers and go invisible at the same time, unfortunately, but both came very much in handy. She could fight and sneak with the best of them out there, it was great. Bang Babies gave her a little more trouble than people without powers- they tended to be faster, more durable, and somehow seemed to have better access to eye protection- but between herself and Hurricane they could easily handle things as well as Static could.

Then they’d gone up against the Meta Breed. It’d been going, mostly well. Ultraviolet was pretty much the anti-Ebon, and Hurricane countered Talon beautifully, it was just Shiv that was a pain in the ass. The gang was spread out just enough for Hurricane to have to take her focus off Talon to handle him, and Ultraviolet was stuck on the ground with him. Worse, exposure to his own powers seemed to have made him less susceptible to her own than most people. Not that they couldn’t have eventually gotten everything managed, but then…

~*~

Sharon didn’t get a power reveal, hers built up slowly over time. At least at first. She could levitate a pencil. Weird, but cool. She could drag a book off the shelf and across the room into her hand. She was Matilda! She could walk on walls, apparently, let’s not do that again, please thank you.

Then one day, at around the same time Daisy was learning she wasn’t normal any longer, she been internally raging about how maybe if she put everything on the fucking ceiling and out of the way one of the men in the house would finally deign to pick up a damn broom, and before she knew it there everything was, on the ceiling. Including her. And the damn broom.

The family had ended up with take-out for dinner because after cleaning up the resulting mess like hell she was cooking.

~*~

Becoming a superhero was in the cards from the moment she realized just how great a jump in power she’d experienced. It was one of those traits people were always surprised to learn she shared with her brother, the feeling that she’d have made an amazing superhero if she’d had the powers or tech for it, the knowledge that she would’ve gone that route given the opportunity. That was just the sort’ve person she was. But she was also a grown woman, an adult who knew well enough that diving into the fray without proper preparation could be disastrous, especially when she was relearning the boundaries of her powers. Instead she’d set to practicing in her spare time, studying up on the various criminals of Dakota, taking self defense courses at the community center. Preparing.

Unfortunately, the best laid plans of mice and men…

She hadn’t expected to find herself smackdab at the edge of a fight between Hurricane, Ultraviolet, and the Meta Breed. Really, she hadn’t. Still, she knew she would need any information she could glean later, and so had stuck around to watch from what was hopefully a safe distance.

They’d been holding their own surprisingly well. Talon wasn’t built to withstand high winds, and the roar of them stole away a good amount of her voice’s potency, making her much less of a threat when Hurricane was on the job. And Ultraviolet, the light she was giving of, the lasers she was firing, were practically making swiss cheese out of Ebon. But, there were three criminals there, not two, and Shiv was making himself a slippery little nuisance for the heroes, working to distract Ultraviolet from Ebon. It was when he came forward while her back was turned, aiming a blow somewhere around her kidneys, that Sharon couldn’t stop herself jumping into action.

Note, she had been attempting to repel Shiv, not everything.  What happened was she ended up alone in a circle of empty space, each and every item in a forty-foot radius that hadn’t been nailed down having been sent flying off. She at least had the decency to be sheepish about this fact (and to panic internally, because holy fuck she wasn’t exactly wearing a disguise) for about a second and a half before steeling herself and leveling her harshest glare at each of the Meta Breed.

Either her glare, her powers, or the fact the numbers were now even apparently got through to Ebon that this wasn’t a good place to be, because patches of black shadow opened under himself and his gang, dragging them away as the heroes shook themselves off and got back to their feet. Both girls were staring at her like she had two heads.

“Sharon?!” That voice was too familiar, and the hair, and build-

“Freida Goren, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Helping protect the city!” Sharon paid the stubborn tone no mind, still choking on the idea that Hurricane was a kid she’d known since her brother was still small enough for her to pick up. She whirled to face Ultraviolet, who at least was good enough to look like she was in trouble.

“And you-”

“Daisy.” Daisy. Was Virgil’s entire social group out fighting violent criminals!? Was that what was happening here? Letting out a ragged breath, Sharon dropped her head into one hand and began massaging her temples.

“Bad enough Virgil and Richie are running off all hours of the day and night, now I have to worry about you two too…”

~*~

After that, of course she wasn’t going to let them go running around fighting crime without adult supervision. But, first things first, she enrolled them both in the community center’s self-defense classes. In exchange, they helped her practice with her powers in a safe and controlled environment.

~*~

For over a month Sharon refused to let the girls help her get an outfit together. She threw something together, accepted a mask ‘for now’, and ran around in something that didn’t look quite professional until finally-

“Oh my god, tell me you didn’t actually commission leather armor for your costume.” Sharon just smirked, spreading her arms and twisting her body to better show off her superhero outfit. She’d gone for a knee length skirt and tall boots, long sleeves, leather greaves, and a mask to match, all in rich browns and golds. It even tied into her hairdo, braided edgings mimicking the braided bun she’d begun keeping her hair in.

Daisy was seriously considering following her lead there. Freida could fly out of reach, and Sharon was getting better at precision use of her powers, keeping people at arm’s length, but a simple pair of sunglasses could cause her trouble and she was getting real tired of people trying to use her hair as a handle.

“It was way more than I’d planned to spend,” Sharon explained, openly proud of herself and given how impressive she looked she’d earned it, “but if I’m going to be a superhero I’m totally Wonderwomaning it up.”

~*~

“You know what, girls?”

“What?”

“We totally need a team name.”

“No.”

“That could be cool...”

“I vote ‘Earth, Wind, and Fire’.”

“…”

“…Daisy, you’re closer, smack her for me.”

[imgilmoregirl]

AO3 Link

Notes: This chapter was revised by the amazing beastlycheese.

Oh, oh, we are so close to the end! I can't believe it. But we still have quite a few exciting chapters ahead.

Chapter Fifteen

The letter was shaking in Gold's trembling hands, the paper getting crumpled under his fingertips, a lump beginning to block his throat and making it difficult to breath. A couple of months ago, Baden had said that he had spent a great amount of time stuck waiting for his mother inside the car with Killian. His mother had gone to talk with a friend after saying a bunch of bad things about him and Lacey. He had absentmindedly given a quick thought to the building his son had described, but he thought it was too impossible that he was right, so he has just forgot about it. However, now he regretted not having prepared himself for this, because every single thing that mattered to him seemed just about to be lost.

He eyed the liquor he had served himself from earlier still intact in the glass, condensing and wetting the dark table as drops of water slid from it. Gold closed his eyes, tempted to rip the letter into tiny pieces and set it on fire, the sound of the door opening behind him not enough to free him from his hypnotic state. Her footsteps against the woodened floor where soft and slow, almost careful until she reached for him, sliding her hands down his chest.

"Hey, stupid, what is going on?" Lacey asked, casually.

Gold felt weak, just about to break down, but his anger was taking over him and he pulled her hands away, standing up and casting the letter aside, throwing it on his desk as he took his glass of whiskey, walking towards the fireplace, refusing to stare at her. He took a long burning sip, while Lacey glanced puzzled at him, waiting for her answer, but he still needed to get some courage to speak, so he breathed in and looked up at her.

"I'm being called to court, over Baden's guardianship," Adam confessed with a sigh.

The expression in Lacey's face changed, she looked in shock, her shoulders shrunk, she had a hand on her back and the other one palming her eight-month long pregnant belly.

"What?"

"Milah wants to fight for his full custody."

"But - " she blinked and he swore that he could see some unshed tears in her eyes, as if Lacey was fighting with a sudden need to cry. "But I thought she had given it to you after she ran away. Don't you have any document that assures that his guardianship is yours?"

Tightening his grip on the glass, Gold shook his head. And what a fool he was for not protecting himself against this. He should have known better, he should have at least wanted to do everything right legally but he couldn't imagine Milah would ever ask for that, because she never before showed any interest in having Baden around. God, she barely spent time with him these days.

"No, our agreement was never settled on paper," he explained, "and now she claims I took him from her and forbade most visits."

Lacey narrowed her eyes, looking no less threatening than she usually would wearing a pink printed maternity dress that had been a gift from her assistant in the library, a young girl called Jasmine. But the anger was still there, shinning powerfully as she stepped forward.

"Wait, you made a whole contract to assure I would give you our daughter but you trusted bitch Milah's word about Baden?" She inquired furiously. "What is your fucking problem?"

Feeling his own mad hate over that situation burst, Gold threw his glass against the fireplace's wall making it break and causing the flames to lift up momentarily. Lacey jumped, startled by this unlikely behaviour.

"I'm an idiot," Adam cursed in a low voice.

"Whoa, hey, come sit and calm down," the girl by his side demanded, reaching to stroke his arm, but he shifted away from her touch.

It was like his vision was covered by red lenses and everything he could see was blurred by his rage. His chest was rising and falling quickly with the adrenaline running through his veins and telling him to do something, anything from stopping the inevitable from happening. Because he was a lawyer and he understood very well that judges always took the mother's side in a custody fight, unless they were facing a lawyer like him, and what a pity it was that he couldn't defend himself.

"She will take my boy, Lacey!" Gold yelled. "I do not expect you to understand my despair of course, as you care nothing about your own flesh and blood either, but I do care about my children."

Lacey gasped, a heartbroken look crossing her face as her chin trembled and her stubbornness weakened.

"You know how to be a complete bastard sometimes," she spitted out at him.

Then she moved to the door, casting a last glare full of pain to him before slamming it shut behind her. Snorting and knowing that he had really been a bastard to her, Gold followed he girl, but she had already grabbed her purse and was walking towards the hallway.

"Lacey, wait," he pleaded, "I'm sorry!"

However, she didn't look back, she just left.

Some hours later, Lacey found herself in the market street of town, walking beside Ruby with some plastic bags full of things she didn't actually need to buy. It had been quite a long time since she last went shopping, because between being bribed by Bunny and saving money for her move to Seattle, she hadn't much money left. Today however, she needed to take away her distress, so she got to use some of the money just for the joy of spending it.

"What a jerk!" Ruby exclaimed, with a narrowed brow.

"Yeah, I hate him today," Lacey snorted. "And most days too."

She caught a glance of herself reflected in the windows of a store and narrowed her nose at how ridiculous she looked with those clothes that Jasmine gave her. Unfortunately, they were the only ones she could manage to fit into lately, so if she didn't look like she was wearing her grandmother's dresses, then she would have to walk around completely naked.

"I thought you liked him," Ruby continued to speak, "usually."

"I - " Lacey shook her head. "I don't know how I feel anymore, Ruby, everything I know is that I don't want Milah to take Baden away from him. That boy is his whole world."

"Yeah," her friend agreed, knowing from Lacey's stories and her quick visits to the Golds' house, that this was true. "And soon your little girl will be too."

Biting down her lip, Lacey rearranged the bags in her arm as she stared at the big mound that was now her belly. She was feeling all weird these last few months, everything was uncomfortable, everything made her angry and the sensation of the baby moving inside her was simply so different that it made her want to laugh with joy at the tickles it caused her sometimes, but also made her want to cry on other occasions at how it felt painful when the child hit some wrong places.

Gold, appeared to be astonished all the time, full of excitement with the prospect of having another kid in his house, just like Bae was. But now, everything seemed unsure and poor little Baden might never get to meet his sister.

"I hate her," Lacey bounced, gaze fixed on the end of the street. "Milah, I mean."

Sighing her friend gripped her wrist, dragging Lacey to a shop by their left. "Come with me."

She hadn't realised what kind of store it was, until they were inside, which made her heart race a little, and a lump appear in her throat. The need to run away from there was too big and she felt like the store was closing around her, bringing all these things to her face and making her breathless, just like if she was having a claustrophobia attack.

"Ruby," Lacey said with difficulty, "what are we doing here?"

"I didn't see you buying a thing for baby Gold so, I'll do it," the other girl shrugged.

"There is a reason why I'm not buying anything, she is not mine!" Lacey yelled, freaking out. "Gold already has a whole nursery full of baby things for her. I didn't take a look at it, but I saw him working with some furniture inside there."

Some weeks ago, she had seen Adam carry two cans of paint inside the house and put them inside the room next to his. On the next day, when they arrived home, Mrs. Potts told him that the furniture he had ordered had arrived during the morning. They never talked about that, although she knew that he was clearly making room for his daughter, but as he didn't talk about it, Lacey just supposed that he just didn't want her to be involved.

Ruby picked up two tiny white dresses and showed them to her. "But I bet you can't help yourself and are imagining her in these beautiful little clothes right now."

"No, I'm not doing it," she said, folding her arms.

"Geez, Lacey," Ruby complained, "continue to sound like that and I'll have to agree with Gold when he says you care nothing about her."

Eyes narrowing, Lacey crossed the shop, going straight to the new-born section and picking out a small purple dress, that was just the most beautiful piece of clothing she saw inside that place. Yes, she would like to see her daughter in this, even if just for once.

"I'm buying this one," she told Ruby.

"But - " the other girl started, but Lacey interrupted her.

"I like the colour. I can picture a baby in it and even if I never get to set eyes on her, I'll give it to Gold and ask him to take a picture when she wears it, so I can use it as my lock-screen and when I look at it every day I can cry with regret. Is that what you and him and the whole wide world want to hear?"

Moving to the counter Lacey payed for the baby's clothes and took the plastic bag, leaving the shop with her best friend on her heels.

"I'm sorry, Lacie, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I don't want to get attached to her, is that so difficult to understand?" Lacey shout out, turning around so she could face her. "It is already killing me to think that today she is right here, nestled inside me and in just a couple of weeks she will be gone forever. But I will need to move on, Ruby, so please stop asking me if I care about my own daughter, because I do, more than I want to admit."

"Lacey - "

Shaking her head, she mumbled: "I have some work to do."

Letting some tears fall from her eyes, Lacey disappeared down the street, going to the library, where she could think a little, calming herself enough before she went back to Gold's house, because even if he deserved to be treated harshly, Baden didn't and she knew that, by the time she went back, Milah would have already dropped him off.

However, when she arrived the library, the course of her day changed completely, because laying there on the floor right in front of the door, was an envelope with a short, but clear threat. Bunny wanted her to pay a thousand dollars to him, immediately, or he would send his men after her.

In all the years Gold had known Cora Mills, he had never gone inside her office. He usually avoided that place and was very grateful that it was very far away from his own law firm, so he only met that despicable woman when they were at court at the same time. She was like one of those distant memories that only came to haunt him to remind Adam of how stupid he had been in the past.

After parking his car near the extremely showy building, Gold headed to the entryway to take the elevator to the twelfth floor. He landed in a black and red stylised office with a grumpy security man staring at him all the time. Adam didn't bother with this, he knew that he wasn't welcomed there at all, but for his son he would go to hell and come back any time he must. Stopping in front of the receptionist, he gave her a little smirk.

"I'm here to talk to Cora Mills, you can say it is Gold."

"Oh," the blonde girl muttered, "she told me that you'd come soon. My name is Anastasia, please, follow me."

Standing up, the girl led him through the hallway and indicated the door he should enter, before leaving without another word. Gold didn't hesitate, he grabbed the knob and swung the door open stepping in to find his ex, typing something on her laptop.

"Acting behind my back again, huh, Cora?"

"Uh, I was expecting your visit," she said, lifting her head to look up at him with a bright evil smile, gesticulating to the stuffed red armchair in front of her desk. "Sit down, please."

"I'm fine right where I am," Gold remarked.

Closing the lid of the laptop, Cora picked a pen that was by its side and started to turn it around her fingers as she stared at Gold with that glow of victory in her eyes.

"So, if you are here to discuss the letter I sent you we'd better start putting all our cards on the table," she smirked, moving her chair so she was facing him from the same angle. "Milah wants to claim Baden's guardianship for herself and move to Ireland."

"You already made that very clear, dearie. I'm mostly interested in the other cards on this table," he replied slowly. "Explain to me, why."

"The girl you're keeping in your house, Lacey French," Cora said with a flourish of her hand. "So, this is what Milah is proposing; if the girl disappears, no one goes to court and she will leave you in peace."

He should have seen that one coming, he should have known. Milah may not want him, but she also didn't want to see him happy, for some twisted reason all she ever wished for was him to be sad and miserable. She had warned him right from the very start, when she first saw Lacey in his house, but he never thought that Milah might take her threats forward.

"That girl," Gold said, stepping forward, jaw clenched and voice frightening, "is carrying a child of mine."

"You can lose a child you never got to meet or the boy you already love so much, it's your choice," Cora answered with a shrug.

He blinked with disbelief.

"You're asking me to choose between my children?" Adam gasped. "You really have no heart, right dearie?"

Cora leaned back against her chair, making herself comfortable while his whole body started to shake with rage.

"If you fight, I'll make sure that Milah gets what she wants."

"I'm not abandoning my child and throwing Lacey out of my house," Gold bounced, with conviction, "you can prepare yourself Cora, because I won't give up. Not on this."

He turned around opening the door again so he could leave that sick place as fast as he could, but Cora's voice held him in the corridor for a moment more.

"Good luck, Adam," she shouted behind his back. "you'll need it."

Lacey entered The Rabbit Hole like a summer storm. She was so furious that everybody could notice her distress as she aimed for the counter, looking for any sign of the freaking chubby owner that she so learned to hate. When she located him serving a girl, that just like her, eight months ago look lost and desperate, Lacey crossed the bar with swift steps, laying the envelope on the counter right in front of him.

"What is this?" She questioned, eyes narrowed in a threatening expression.

"Your father's recent debts," Bunny shrugged, looking up at her.

Shaking her head, Lacey tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but nothing seemed to help right now. She was having one of those bad, terrible days in which no matter what you do, everything will end just horribly and it just can't be stopped. In her hands were the bags with the things she had bought that afternoon with Ruby; she had no hurry to go back home to face Gold, because she knew that more heartbreak was yet to come. To complete the disaster, she had to end this, before she did something stupid like slapping Bunny's disgusting face.

"No one can waste a thousand dollars in drinks in less than two months!" Lacey insisted sceptically. "I paid the last three bills you sent, with the foolish hope that you'd leave me alone for once, but what a naïve girl I was. This is all about you getting easy money from me!"

"Well, let me explain things to you, Miss French, since you do not seem to be aware of anything," Bunny said in a sluggish tone, leaning against the counter, so his face was closer to hers. "Every single night your stupid father enters through this door, he sits here by this counter, drinks enough to gather some courage and then moves himself to the game tables in the back. He makes wagers he can not afford paying and loses them all."

"That's not true," she said, weakly.

But, God, as much as she wanted to deny it, Lacey needed to admit that this was some scenario in which she could easily picture her father in. He was lost, so damn lost that he was dragging her down with him.

"Oh, it is not?" The bar owner bounced with a laugh. "You have two options, lass, you pay up or we will go after him and then, after you. Gold will eventually pay me, if he ever wants to hold this baby you two have been waiting for."

Lacey swallowed. She was genuinely afraid, but she wasn’t going to show it to Bunny, so she held up her chin, being as impertinent and petulant as she dared.

"No," the girl answered, her voice sounding harsh and strong. "You won't play with my life anymore and you won't have any money from me nor from Gold, because I'll make sure I can get rid of this child, so you won't have anything to bargain with him."

Some weeks, Lacey thought, if she could hide from him for just some weeks then the child would arrive, she would give it to Gold and disappear from Storybrooke to never come back. Her life had just gotten more dangerous and Lacey just hoped she could make it right for her daughter, because once she was with Gold she would be protected and cared for, so she turned her back to Bunny, listening to him urging her to get very far away from there hearing just one last bit of advice come from him:

"I hope you're fast enough, Lacey, because I certainly am."

[allthereclists]

matt/foggy rec list

this polyphonic love by pepperfield 

--------

AU

Loving You's A Bloodsport by Waynesgrayson (1849 words)

In the history books, when people are afraid, they use fire. Foggy wishes that they figured out you can't burn that of which was born in flames.

A Wizard Did It by ctimene  (7884 words)

“You want to name yourself after weather?” “I have been a sentient statue on top of various churches for six centuries, I am all in for weather.”

put away your labor // and your leisure, too by themikeymonster (6098 words)

The thing says, "You're absolutely refusing to go quietly into the night, you know. Could make my job a little easier, here."  

Matt's ribs creak, crackle and splinter, and there is blood bubbling at the back of his throat and yet, dizzy, what comes out is half-groan, half huffing laugh. "Why should I?"

Bite Me by ChuckleVoodoos (13596 words)

“I am constantly amazed by how much you suck at being a vampire slayer.”

The Good Little Wolf by ChuckleVoodoos 13,801

Foggy's been training for this day his whole life. As long as he follows the Rules and finishes the Story, everything will be perfect.

Tempt Little Red Riding Hood. Eat Granny. Dress in Drag. Eat Little Red Riding Hood. Eat Little Red Riding Hood’s Basket of Goodies. Live Happily Ever After.

Stupid Cupid by ChuckleVoodoos 14,305

Foggy plays karma bingo and wins a cupid.

His cupid is possibly the worst matchmaker in the world.

Private Property by poisonivory (14382 words)

Technically speaking, Foggy doesn't own Matt; it's more like indentured servitude. Still, the rules of the Program mean that Foggy can have whatever he wants from Matt. So why isn't he taking it?

Dead Man Walking by ChuckleVoodoos 15,064

Matt Murdock is alone when he chokes on a peanut and dies.

Three minutes later, he wakes up.

Invisible Ink by ctimene (16315 words)

“Hello, welcome to Josie’s, I’m Foggy, what are you looking for?” “Uh, nothing,” the guy replies, and Foggy is nonplussed for the nanosecond it takes to put together glasses, cane, and the way Hottie McHotFace is gazing absently over his shoulder. “Oh, oh, you’re blind, dude, sorry. But, uh, this is a tattoo parlour?” “I know.” The guy sighs. “I lost a bet?” Or: The One Where Foggy Is A Tattoo Artist And Matt Is The Worst

Knock Three Times (On the Ceiling If You Want Me)  by poisonivory (16884 words)

Matt's downstairs neighbor sings showtunes (badly) at all hours, eats weird-smelling food, and never stops talking. Matt falls in love long before they actually meet.

Ramona's Records by goldstandard 18,070

Matt Murdock doesn't go on to law school. Instead, he opens up a record store.

We Just Lost the Beat  by knight_tracer (19334 words)

Matt hears a lot in the city at night, sirens and crime--and the late-night radio show Foggy With a Chance, which sometimes runs a Daredevil Watch if he's been particularly active, but which mostly plays music. He probably shouldn't call in and request a song, but he does it anyway.

Any Good That Could Come After This by lady_ragnell 20,104

When his ex-boyfriend is accused of murder, Foggy Nelson decides to take on his defense. He doesn't know that it will wrap him up in a city-wide corruption case or make him rethink how he feels about Matt Murdock.

Nobody Said It Was Easy  by Amaria_Anna_D  (22169 words)

Foggy Nelson isn't exactly thrilled when his mother volunteers him to watch Jack Murdock's son, Matt, but after meeting the kid, he knows that he's made a friend for life. As the boys grow up, feelings and bonds change. Foggy begins to wonder if maybe he has a chance for more. Based on Iraya's amazing comic Baby Crush.

Stay In My Arms (If You Dare) by poisonivory (33765 words)

The Defenders are the most elite bodyguard agency in the world. When Wilson Fisk's personal attorney Foggy Nelson walks in looking for protection from a mysterious man in black, Matt Murdock is more than happy to take Mr. Nelson's safety in hand. But Nelson's guilt is hard to prove, and Matt may have gotten himself in too deep - especially once someone besides the man in black starts gunning for his client.

I'll Most Likely Kill You in the Morning by inkfingers_mcgee (49459 words) 

Foggy and Matt never met at school. They cross paths for the first time while working opposite sides of a case, and Matt doesn't leave an impression beyond the superficial: a blind, pro-bono crusader who Foggy will feel really guilty about having to oppose in court one of these days. Seemed like a nice guy, but no one Foggy will worry about a week later. He has more important things on his mind, like the masked vigilante who keeps cornering him in dark alleys to threaten him for information.

CANON ERA

My Boyfriend's A Superhero And All I Got Was This Lousy ER Trip by paperclipbitch  (2013 words)

“I walked into a file cabinet,” Murdock says loudly, when Claire reaches for his face, tilts it toward the light so she can check that nasty-looking cut on his cheekbone a little better. “Oh my God,” Karen murmurs; in her peripheral vision, Claire sees her press her face into her hands. “I thought we were going to come up with a better-” Nelson begins, visibly stops himself, and continues: “-explanation of that thing that definitely happened.”

a house you grew up in by LadyMerlin (3839 words)

It starts when Foggy loses control of his life. It starts when Foggy wakes up in a hospital bed after the fourth kidnapping.

Rosemary and Mint by themikeymonster (5545 words)

Matt's going to Hell in a handbasket and he doesn't particularly need a checkered blanket, he's not going to have a picnic, Foggy, but thanks for the thought, anyway.

this polyphonic love by pepperfield chapter 5

CANON AU

Illumination by keilson (1715 words)

When Foggy meets his very adorable, geeky new roommate, nothing changes. That's not true. When Foggy meets Matt, everything changes. It just doesn't include an understanding of red, or blue, or yellow. He still can't see a rainbow, he can't paint by numbers, and he'll never appreciate the supposed almost-red of his hair. (a reflection on life without color, bringing a new meaning to the phrase love is blind.)

Gonna Make Love To The Dark by Waynesgrayson (2707 words)

He knows that if anyone found out about this, that they would punish him, but kill Foggy. Destroy the source of his disobedience.

Down to the Bone by SpiritsFlame (4572 words) 

Everyone always wants to know why his daemon isn't a bat. As though being blind is all that there is to him, the center point of his character.

Dream Catcher by ChuckleVoodoos 10,944

When Matt has nightmares, so does Foggy. Unfortunately, Matt has a lot of nightmares. Even when he's not asleep.

Or: Matt visits Foggy after the bombings, and it doesn't go well.

A Secret Chord by joidianne4eva (11467 words) 

Foggy could vaguely remember a time when he’d dreamed of the things any of their kind should. He dreamt of the trucks his dad would make for him, dragging their essence out of thin air only to laugh when Foggy gaped at him, like he always did. But that would only happen if Foggy didn’t steal cookies and get in trouble at school. Foggy dreamt of the melodies that wove their way through his very being. The soft, husky timbre of his mother’s voice coaxing his own into something that felt almost right even if it wasn’t as powerful as the tune that his mom carried with her. Then one day Foggy’s dreams caught fire and the world burned with it.