#I also had Beatrice’s day written but it felt too long

[hypertic]

Avatrice - neighbors AU

[part 2 of this]

Beatrice knocks on the door, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants as she waits for an answer. When it doesn’t come as fast as she hoped, she considers turning back around and pretending she was never there.

She knocks again; she has no choice.

“Coming!”

The door swings open, revealing Ava in an oversized shirt and barely visible shorts underneath it. She’s slightly out of breath, a hairbrush in her hand caught mid air at the sight of her neighbor.

“Beatrice.” She greets with a smile, breath still caught in her throat at the sight of Beatrice in navy blue dress pants and a white shirt.

Ava’s smile faltered as she noticed that her hair was down and a little messy instead of its usual neat bun, and had dark bags under her eyes. If Ava looked a little further, Beatrice seemed a lot paler than a couple of days ago and her eyes were watery and full of concern.

“I’m so sorry to bother you this early, Ava.” Beatrice began, a tired, pleading look on her face as she fidgeted with a hair tie on her wrist. “I’m really sorry, I know you probably have a ton of things to do today-“

“Not really.” Ava interrupted, giving Beatrice a reassuring smile.

It was a lie, of course. She was about to leave for her part time job, but Beatrice didn’t know that. Ava wasn’t sure why she lied, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t regret it.

“Are you sure?” Beatrice spoke as she checked the time on her wrist watch. She then pulled back her hair, tying it up on a bun with practiced ease. Both actions were closely followed by Ava, who was entranced by the graceful way Beatrice’s hands moved.

“Yes!” Ava answered after staring for longer than it would be acceptable, now looking anywhere but Beatrice.

“I- I need to ask you a favor. A big favor.” Beatrice heaved a sigh, thinking of the most effective way to deliver her pleas. “Willow and Olivia are sick.” Beatrice felt her heart clench at the sudden change in Ava’s expression, her smile quickly replaced by a worried pout, and her eyes holding so much affection Beatrice thought that alone could make it all better. “They’re alright, but I can’t send them to daycare or preschool while sick.”

Ava’s eyes, expressive as ever, went from relief to confusion to understanding in a matter of seconds, making Beatrice’s foggy head spin.

“I hate to ask, but I have a meeting I really couldn’t cancelled, I tried, but-“

“You want me to take care of them?” Ava said with surprise, and maybe a drop of fear.

Even if she saw it coming, she never expected Beatrice to trust her with her children, specially if they were sick. She knew she was probably her last resource, but Ava was more than willing to show her she was worthy of that trust.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, really.” Beatrice repeated, interpreting her surprise as rejection. “I’ll pay you for the babysitting hours-“

“Don’t-Don’t apologize.“ Ava interrupted, teeth worrying her lower lip. “Of course I’ll take care of them. For free.” She clarified, and Beatrice felt her knees go weak with relief.

“Thank you.” She sighed, leaning against the door frame. Ava couldn’t help but smile at the sight, taking a step closer to her.

“What do I need to know?” Ava asked, snapping Beatrice out of her daze as she closed the door of her apartment. That question alone made Beatrice kick into mother-mode, each of her kids needs running through her head and sorted carefully in different categories.

Beatrice let them into their apartment which Ava noticed, was a little messier than the last time she was there (but still nothing compared to her own).

“Olivia is already getting better, she just has a bad cough and a runny nose, but her doctor said it should go away on its own.” Ava nodded, mindlessly following Beatrice to the kitchen. “You shouldn’t really give babies much medication, so I’ve just been using nasal drops and a humidifier.”

Ava noticed that the kitchen sink was piled with dishes, baby bottles and cups, which only showed how busy Beatrice must be with both of her kids sick. She didn’t know her for long, but it felt out of character for Beatrice to let her dirty dishes pile up.

“Willow is… not better. She still has a fever, her throat is really sore and she had a headache this morning. I gave her Tylenol around 6, and she’s a bit better. You can give her more Tylenol around noon, but she’s not easy to convince.”

“Got it.” Ava said confidently, taking the children’s Tylenol bottle from Beatrice’s shaky hands.

Beatrice checked her clock again and hurried out of the kitchen, Ava on tow. They walked silently towards the hallway and, as Beatrice creaked open the first door, Ava took her time to look further into the small hallway.

She’d noticed Beatrice’s apartment was twice the size of hers, so she could only guess that the other two doors lined up at the left side of the hallway were a bathroom and another room. At the very end, she could spot the corner of a neatly made white bed, which she assumed was Beatrice’s.

“Ava!” Willow’s excited yet weak, dry voice brought her attention back to the room in front of her.

The room didn’t have any specific color theme, unlike the rest of the home, but was rather full of small colorful toys and decorations. It didn’t feel too saturated, though, balanced out by the pristine white walls and simple wooden furniture.

In the opposite corner was Willow, lying in a bed that seemed too big for her small, pale body. She had discarded her tablet to the side and sat up as Ava approached her.

“Hi.” Ava greeted, keeping her voice low and gentle. “I heard you were sick, how are you feeling?” She took a step closer to the bed, sitting down next to Willow after she gestured for her to do so.

“Weird.” She replied weakly, and Ava couldn’t help but brush her hand against the girl’s forehead, sweeping her sweaty bangs to the side and subtly taking her temperature.

“Ava will be staying with you today while I go to that urgent meeting you heard me fussing about earlier, is that alright?” Beatrice asked, soft yet serious, just like one would do with an adult. If Ava didn’t know them already, she would still guess Beatrice is a wonderful mother by that interaction alone.

Willow seemed to think about it for a moment, before giving her mother a firm nod and then a bright smile to Ava that made her tiny eyes disappear.

“I’ll be back soon enough.” Beatrice reassured, making her way to Willow’s bedside and running a soft hand through the girl’s tangled hair. She guided her down gently, tucking her in, and kissing her goodbye; a kiss to her forehead, one to her left cheek and then one to her right.

Ava tried her best to ignore how close she was to Beatrice, she really did, but it became hard to focus on anything else when she felt the woman’s leg brush against her knee. Beatrice seemed to notice too, taking a rushed step backwards and heading for the door, not before waving goodbye.

“Willow doesn’t get to use her ipad on weekdays, but I allowed it since she’s sick, so she might spend the entire day on it.” Beatrice stated, making her way back to the living room. “Olivia is asleep, but should wake up soon.” Beatrice moved around the room, gathering papers and keys and shoving them all in her purse. “Can I get your number?”

God, Beatrice wished she was saying that under better circumstances.

Still, that didn’t mean her hands weren’t shaking any less as she handed her phone to Ava, who quickly typed in her number and sent a message to herself so she could save Beatrice’s.

“Thank you so much.” Beatrice said, her hand already on the door knob. “I’ll text you about their food and medicine in detail while I’m on the subway. Please, call me if there’s any problem or change.” She pleaded, finally out of the door.

“Of course.” Ava nodded, waving at Beatrice who reluctantly walked to the elevator. “Take care!” Ava yelled as the elevator doors creaked open, making Beatrice smile for the first time in days.

###

The first thing Ava did was call Michael, her coworker, and convince him to cover for her at work. Then, she made her way to Willow’s room, checking her temperature and encouraging her to drink more of her water. Willow just let her, too drowsy to fight against the thermometer under her arm and too focused on her tablet to make conversation.

Ava then made her way to Olivia’s room, finding the baby already wide awake and jumping on her crib. Ava smiled, relieved to see that she was clearly feeling much better than her sister, and after a lot of cooing and good morning tickles she changed her diaper and clothes, taking her time to pick the cutest outfit she could find because, why not.

After struggling to get the child into a white shirt and some overalls, she remembered to use the nose drops as Beatrice had instructed. What she failed to mention, was the little bulb thing she needed to use to suck the baby’s snot, which proved to be a lot more difficult. It took around 15 minutes of pleading and crying and threatening (from both parts involved), but she managed to clear Olivia’s nose.

They spent a while playing on Willows room, who’s fever had gone up. It was hard to keep both girl’s entertained while trying to bring down the oldest’s fever by placing cold rags on her forehead, but eventually she got the hang of it. She even managed to read them a story that had Willow back asleep in minutes.

By then, she had received Beatrice’s detail instructions about their food and medicine, so she set out to give a bottle to Olivia while she made them lunch.

By the time Beatrice was set to arrive, both kids had eaten well, Willow took her medicine, (which was another 30 minutes of pleading and bribing) and felt well enough to be out of bed. She had asked Ava to read her a story to which she had agreed, only to find that the book was completely in french. Willow was a little disappointed since it was her favorite book, but quickly forgot all about it after Ava offered to teach her spanish.

When Beatrice finally walked through the door, hours later than she’d anticipated, she almost felt like crying at the scene of Willow, in way better spirits than this morning, giggling at the word ‘refrigerador’. What almost brought her to tears, though, was the sight of her kitchen sink completely empty, with Ava putting away the last baby bottles.

“Ava.” The name left her lips before she could stop it, drawing attention to her figure, leaning against the doorframe.

Willow ran up to her, giving her a big, tight hug as Beatrice picked her up and ran her hands through her bangs, subtly checking if she had a fever.

Ava just stayed where she was, eyes fixed on nothing in particular as her brain replayed the way her name sounded coming from Beatrice. She took tentative steps towards the pair, not wanting to interrupt Willow’s cheerful retelling of her day, while Beatrice smiled and nodded at every little thing with so much adoration in her eyes Ava felt a small knot forming in her throat.

She took the chance to study Beatrice more closely, who looked, in all honestly, three times worse than she did this morning. She looked pale, almost translucent, and a thin layer of sweat covered her forehead.

“Willow,” Ava called, unable to keep her mouth shut when she noticed Beatrice’s trembling fingers. “Why don’t you go wash your hands so you can help me with dinner?” The little girl, fever and cough long forgotten, all but jumped out of her mother’s arms and darted to the bathroom.

“Slower, Lou! You’re still sick, remember?” Beatrice scolded, but her eyes were fixed on Ava. “I’m sorry I’m late, I left as soon as I could.” Beatrice apologized, and Ava wanted to tell her to stop saying sorry for everything, that it was fine and that she didn’t mind at all.

Ava didn’t get the chance to get a word out, as Beatrice tumbled forward, almost falling to her knees if Ava didn’t catch her, placing her arms underneath Beatrice’s to keep her upright.

“Shit.” She muttered, ignoring the warmth spreading in her chest at the closeness. Ava let go with one hand and brought it up to feel Beatrice’s warm, sweaty forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

Ava would’ve threatened to slap her if she ever said sorry again, but chose to stay quiet and gently guided the woman to the living room, sitting her down at the couch.

“Thanks.” Beatrice said weakly, shivering slightly under Ava’s touch, but blaming it on the fever. “You don’t have to actually cook for Willow, I’ve already taken too much of your time.”

“You’re sick.” Ava stated, despite how obvious it was. Beatrice frowned in confusion, as if her being sick had nothing to do with Ava still standing there, in front of her. “Lay down, I’ll be right back.” She pushed her down carefully, running out to get the thermometer before Beatrice could stop her.

She wasn’t surprised to find Beatrice attempting to stand up, stopping her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and pushing her back down. Without a word, she handed the thermometer to Beatrice.

“I’m fine.” She said, after checking her temperature.

Beatrice was in fact not fine, and was nearing 39°C, which she was unable to hide from Ava as the girl snatched the thermometer from her hands with a frown.

“Is mommy ok?” Willows tiny, worried voice echoed through the living room at the sight of the thermometer. Beatrice gave her a nod, but even Willow didn’t seem convinced.

“She’s not feeling very well, Willow.” Ava said truthfully as the girl ran up to her mother. “I’m sure she’ll feel better after some rest.” Ava placed a comforting hand on the girls back, hoping she would understand.

Beatrice’s shook her head, but it was completely ignored by her daughter, who ran to get a blanket and unceremoniously dumped it on her mother’s lap, trying to stretch it out.

If Ava noticed Beatrice’s eyes getting more watery, she did her the favor to ignore it and blame it all on the fever.

Silently, she took Willow’s tiny hand and guided her to the kitchen, telling her to wait there while she rummaged through the medicine cabinet to find ibuprofen. When she went back to the living room, Beatrice was laying down, awkward and tense, but she was laying down.

“Ava, you really don’t-“ She started to argue as soon as she came into view.

“Take it.” Ava all but shoved the glass of water and the advil bottle on her hands, turning around and sprinting to the kitchen before Beatrice could argue.

For a moment, Ava worried she was overstepping, that Beatrice genuinely didn’t want her there. She dared to take a small peak behind the safety of the kitchen door, only to find Beatrice staring hesitantly at her hand, letting out sigh before swallowing the pills and leaning back down.

Ava smiled and turned on the ball of her feet, getting ready to make the best spaghetti of her life.

With the help of Willow, who knew where things were in the kitchen better than Ava, the food was ready just in time for Olivia to wake up and make a mess with a few spaghetti’s and her applesauce.

Despite Willow begging for waffles, Ava decided not to test her stomach or her mother’s patience, and settled for cutting some apples in misshaped bunnies to convince her to have some.

Ava considered 6PM was quite early, even for a toddler, but still guided Willow back to bed who sat down with her tablet while Ava played with her sister. Willow fell asleep soon after and Ava tiptoed her way back to the living room, taking Olivia with her. She took a look a Beatrice, her slow breathing and relaxed features, the ones Ava thought Beatrice might never show while awake.

“Let’s find you something to do.” She whispered to the baby, who smiled as Ava bounced her all the way to her room.

The sun went down slowly, covering the entire room in a calming, red hue, that seemed to have the opposite effect on Olivia. The baby started crying, far louder than Ava expected, and wasn’t sure what to do to fix it.

She couldn’t be hungry or sleepy, having just woken from a nap, and she didn’t have a runny nose, at least not before she started wailing uncontrollably. Ava tried hushing her, rocking her, bouncing her around, but nothing seemed to work.

“Here.” Beatrice’s voice made Ava jump back in surprise, too caught up in the baby’s cries to hear the door open. She didn’t hesitate to hand the child back though, as her mothers calm, gentle voice seemed to have an instant effect on Olivia.

“Sorry.” Ava scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “I think I let her nap for too long.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Beatrice reassured, and Ava thought it was ironic how that was exactly what she wanted to tell her hours before. “I can’t thank you enough, Ava.” She stated truthfully, taking a tiny step towards her.

“Well, I owed you one, remember?” Ava tried to dismiss it, but Beatrice shook her head.

“You did far more than what you owed me.” Her voice was firm but quiet, not wanting to disturb the baby in her arms.

“We’re even.” Ava insisted.

“It doesn’t feel like we are.” Beatrice pushed, keeping her eyes focused on Olivia, on the window, on anything but Ava.

“How are you feeling?” Ava asked, leading the conversation away from her.

She was genuinely concerned, though, and couldn’t help take a small step foward, pressing her palm against Beatrice’s forehead.

“Sorry.” Ava took her hand back almost instantly, as if it burned. “Sorry, I’m overstepping again, sorry.”

“You’re not.” Beatrice assured. She knew deep down that , had it been any other neighbor or babysitter, it would be overstepping, but it was Ava.

She wasn’t sure what made her different: if it was her warm smile, the way she genuinely seemed to care about her kids, about her, or if her fever was making it all feel different.

“You don’t have to take care of me, though, I think you’ve had enough with the two little devils.” Beatrice said with endearment, looking down at Olivia who seemed fast asleep. She managed to put her down in the crib, ignoring the fact that she’d have to wake her up to change her eventually.

“They’re adorable.”

“They are.”

They made their way out of the room in comfortable silence as Ava decided it was time for her to leave.

“Beatrice.” She called, though there was no need, since the woman followed her closely to the door. “Take care, please.” Beatrice was taken aback at the words, not so much by the content, but by the pleading, almost desperate way they were spoken, like Ava truly worried for her. “I didn’t want to say it before, but you looked like shit when you walked in.”

Beatrice giggled, and Ava felt the room spin.

“Thanks, Ava. For everything.” Beatrice took a step forward, closer. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” Ava let out an annoyed, almost angry groan.

“There’s no need, Beatrice.” It was her turn to take a step closer. “If you ever need me to babysit I’d be more than happy to.”

“Really?” Ava was surprised that Beatrice was surprised.

“Of course, Willow is amazing.” Beatrice felt her heart swell with pride at the sight of Ava’s genuine smile; maybe she wasn’t doing bad after all. “And Olivia is lovely. I wouldn’t mind spending and entire day with all of you.”

Beatrice’s heart was now about to burst because, even if they were talking about her children, and Ava just seemed like a generally nice person, her last words seemed to hold a different weight to them.

All of you.

Ava turned her back to her, opening the door to hide her burning cheeks at the slip up. Beatrice would probably think she’s weird, or that shes taking advantage of her kids to flirt with her, if that could be considered flirting. Beatrice probably never saw it that way because she may not even like-

“Ava.” Beatrice’s soft hand found her place into Ava’s, who held the doorknob tightly. She took it back quickly, clearing her throat before speaking. “I- I feel the same.”

Beatrice chastised herself for the incredibly lame, awkward reply. It was true, but there were thousands of different ways to say that, without sounding so damn stupid.

Unsurprisingly, Ava gave her a wide grin, crossing the doorframe into the hall. She waved as Beatrice shut the door, cheeks flushed red and hands shaking.

It’s the fever.

[reblogs, comments and ideas are very welcomed]

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 8

Masterlist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstances keep them apart? A/N: I'm going to be real with you guys--this chapter was just for me. It's disgusting, cheesy, romantic nonsense and I absolutely love it. I hope you do too. :)

Writing an amateur poet's love letter was so ridiculous and fun, but I also may have f'ed myself up a little bit. Save me pathetic, handsome, unabashedly romantic gentleman who respects me as a human being with deep thoughts and valued feelings but also compares my eyes to flaked amber in the sunlight and treats me gently like a beautiful flower laid softly on the shrine of a solitary goddess...you're my only hope.

My dearest Beatrice,

These nights we have spent apart have been perhaps the longest of my life.

I had not realized just how completely you had made yourself at home in my heart until you were no longer here with me. I look to the space you have carved in my soul, and I find it empty. You have gone, and taken a piece of me with you.

At night I sit in the windowsill searching the streets below, desperate to see any sign of you waiting there for me. I pray for just a glimpse of your shrouded form, bathed in the silver light of the moon. As I wait, I know I would have forever been happy to be your Leander, swimming across the sea each night, guided by your light.

I have found my days as listless as my nights, waiting to hear any mention of your name. I dread what news time may bring, yet cannot stop myself from wishing the hours to pass as minutes. Time may yet be my enemy, but it still remains the one bridge that leads me to you.

I hope you are well my darling. I see an image of you sat alone with your worries, and it haunts my every thought. I hope to find some relief in the knowledge that my family will be with you soon, even if I cannot be. I hope your brief time with them will bring some measure of comfort to you, as they have comforted me.

When my mother and sisters return, I pray they bring good news. But know that no matter what, my feelings will not waiver. I am willing to stand steadfast against any tide we may yet face, so long as it is your wish to stand alongside me.

I worry now that perhaps my lack of interest in the movements of the aristocracy may have translated poorly. You must know that my distaste for their grandstanding, their rigid adherence to proprietary, and their many pointless rules means nothing in the face of my feelings for you. So now I shall be clear, so that there can be no misunderstandings between us.

I love you Beatrice. I will love you for as long as you will have me, and then one hundred lifetimes more.

Yours eternally,

Benedict

---

Beatrice sat in her nightdress, curled up in the armchair nearest the windows of her room. She clutched Benedict's letter close to her chest as she gazed out across the moonlit garden. It looked so similar to the place where she and Benedict had first met. It was not so long ago, yet it felt like a lifetime had past since then.

She turned her attention back to the letter. In the dim candlelight it was difficult to make out his flourished words, but that hardly mattered. Beatrice had read it so many times already that she could all but recite it word for word. She ran her fingers over the last line, smiling as she thought of the man that had written it.

I love you.

She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her forehead io her knees as she blushed. She could hardly contain the emotions that threatened to burst forth from her chest. Even having read it dozens of times, she could hardly believe it was real. And so she read it once more, then again, only to make sure she was not dreaming.

The feelings between them had always been clear. She did not need words to know Benedict cared for her. But to have it articulated so beautifully? To have him decalre it so boldly? That was a different thing entirely. Perhaps it was best then that it was written and not spoken. If she had heard it first from his lips, she surely would have perished in an instant--her heart too overcome with feeling to possibly be contained.

Her letter expressed her worries and her desires. Now she almost felt foolish thinking of the words she had written, having believed his choice rushed. And perhaps, regretted. Still, they needed to be said all the same, and now she could rest soundly knowing she had not in some way entrapped him in a life he did not want.

She prayed they would be allowed to see each other soon, but resolved herself to do whatever she must if she was not. She would see him again, no matter what.

She sighed, taking one last look out into the night before readying herself for bed.

As she laid in the dark, Benedict's letter tucked safely under her pilllow, she smiled to herself. She drifted off to sleep, knowing she would have sweet dreams.

---

My Dearest Benedict,

I hope this letter finds you in comfort and good health.

I have wished desperately to visit you these past nights. I have longed to be near you, to see your face and to hear your voice. The thought of never seeing you again forever stalks my every days and nights.

We spoke so little about my deception before we were forced to part. I know you have assured me all is well, but even so I must beg your forgiveness just once more. It was a crime committed completely for my own selfish desires, and I made you my unwitting accomplice.

And while I cannot in good conscious condone my actions, nor can I condemn them. For if I had been honest from the start, I believe we would never have been able to grow to know each other so well. For that time we spent free of society's eyes and expectations, I will apologize, I will accept the consequences, but I will never regret.

I know you must be worried for what is to come. The truth of it is I do not know myself. There are many possibilities, all reliant on many choices made by many people who care very little for the hearts involved. Ultimately, it comes down to this: Will I be permitted to see you again and if so, will you wish to see me?

I have not forgotten what you said as we danced. That you were willing to openly pursue me in spite of my title and any trouble that may follow. I was glad to hear you say so, gladder still for you to show your resolve and declare your intentions to all with every dance we shared. But I ever worry I have put you in a difficult situation, where you made a choice in the heat and haste of a moment, and now feel you must continue to honor your word and protect my feelings.

It is the knowing you care for me, but yet surely not wanting the burdens that I will place upon you, that haunts me so. That you may one day wake to a feeling of resentment towards me for your confinement, and wish in vain for release. I know you to be a free soul my dearest, and you do not belong shakled to a crown. And so I wish to be clear that I would never disparage you, even if it should be that you choose to place your freedom first.

But if this is to be the time I lay bare all my truths, I shall do so in full and know for certain I have said all I wished to. Then, regardless of what outcome the future holds, I can live contented by the knowledge that I have spoken every wish that lives in my heart.

I love you, Benedict. I have loved you since the night we met, and I will continue loving you every night and every day that follows for the rest of our lives and beyond. Whatever choice is made, regardless of who makes it, know that my feelings for you will never change.

And while it is so that I would never blame you for chosing to live your life a free man, the truth is I desperately ache for you to instead choose to spend it locked away with me. Together in a prison made for two, with no direction or purpose other than to be forever by each other's side.

I find I am only filled with such selfish thoughts when I am with you, and so it is with such selfishness that I reveal my deepest wish. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my love, forever and always until the day we die.

Yours always,

Beatrice

---

Benedict sat on the windowsill, reading over the letter held tightly in his hands.

While in his own letter he had chosen to make his feelings know beyond all doubt, he had not expected Beatrice would do the same. It is not that he questioned her love for him, but even so it made it no less of a shock to see it written so bodly in her own hand.

Benedict had of course been certain she shared his feelings, but Beatiece was by nature more reserved than others. Certainly more than he had ever been. Her feelings had never been uncertain, but even when they were alone it was clear that she held herself back.

Not that he minded, of course. He found her shyness enduring, and never considered her in any way insincere. Quite the opposite; he truly thought her to be the most genuine person he had ever met.

So it was not a surprise that Beatrice felt she had to be so forthcoming with her concerns for him.

That she had been so worried for him in spite of her own feelings was an unwelcome revelation. Benedict had never wanted her to feel pain over any aspect of their relationship. And that she knew his choice, but still wished to convey he was not bound by to it made his heart ache. He felt it all the more when he considered that she did so in direct opposition to her own feelings, all for his sake.

But then she had followed it all with such a bold declaration of her love. Whatever pain he held was lessened considerably by her uncharacteristicly assertive words. Despite her feelings of guilt for her actions and the weight she believed she had placed upon him, she still chose to make her wishes known.

Beatrice loved him, and she had made it clear she wanted his love in return.

Benedict was soothed then in the knowledge that she had received his letter. Whatever worry she had about his choice were surely dispelled the moment she read it. There could now be no doubt between them that they both desired the same thing.

He only hoped this separation would end soon, so that he might show her the depths of his resolve.

He loved her, and she loved him. Regardless of what choice was made by others, he had already made his decision.

Benedict smiled as he folded the letter gently, sliding it back into the safety of its envelope. He prayed, as always, that tomorrow would be the day he received the news he so desperately longed to hear. But if he must continue waiting for a word that he could see her again, he would do so safe in the knowledge that Beatrice now knew his true feelings. And that wherever she was, she was waiting for him too.

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229 @mhmoony @mmmunson @iamcailin08 @mads198-9

[cassandraclare]

Italian Shadowhunter name/s

Hello and welcome to a bilingual post! I’ve had a few people ask me about the name of the Italian Shadowhunter, Filomena, who appears briefly in Chain of Iron. I reached out to Rò, who runs https://twitter.com/ItShadowhunters/ and works with Mondadori Books on their Italian translations of the Shadowhunters series. She’s helped me with a lot of Italian place information/translations/ names in the past (like Lord of Shadows’ Chiara Malatesta, head of the Rome Institute) and she wanted to tell you a bit about how we picked Filomena’s first name.

« Hi there! I’m Rò. Cassie has asked me to write down some of the reasons that got us to pick “Filomena” as the name of the Italian character from “Chain of Iron” – without being too spoilery, of course. 

We officially picked Filomena’s name back in August 2019 (yep. More than a year ago. She’s been a thing for a while).  {Cassie adds: This is also just the way book publishing works; it takes a long time for books to come out after they’re written.]

I wrote down a long list of names – most came from Italian literature… and, yes. “Beatrice” WAS one of them. However, we felt like “Beatrice” was the easy, boring choice. We were looking for something different.  

There’s a character called “Filomena” in Boccaccio’s Decameron. Back in 2019, we obviously had no idea what 2020 had in store for us… but now I do believe it’s weirdly fitting to have an Italian Shadowhunter called after a character from Boccaccio’s work in a book written during a worldwide pandemic.  

When I decided which character from Decameron I wanted to add to my list of names, “Filomena” is the only name who seemed fitting enough (I’m sorry, but whenever I think of “Fiammetta” I can’t help but remember that Pokèmon Gym Leader from Hoenn… and we already have an “Emilia” in the Shadowhunter world).

It’s a very old name and, even though it may not be that popular anymore, I think it suits an Italian Shadowhunter at the beginning of the 20th century. There’s a character called “Filomena” even in Verga’s I Malavoglia, after all!  

Both Cassie and Cat loved the name as soon as they read it, and I was and still am pleased, too: it has a few meanings I truly enjoy… and I think that one of them is especially fitting, now that I’ve read “Chain of Iron”. I cannot share which one, though!  

Now you only have to find out who her surname is paying homage to… »  

--- 

« Ehilà! Sono Rò. Cassie mi ha chiesto di elencare alcuni dei motivi che ci hanno spinte a scegliere “Filomena” come nome per il personaggio italiano di Chain of Iron – senza dire nulla di troppo spoileroso, logicamente. Mi spiace!  

Il nome di Filomena è stato ufficialmente deciso nell’agosto del 2019 (già. Più di un anno fa. Filomena esiste da un po’).  

Ho buttato giù una lunga lista di suggerimenti, perlopiù derivanti dalla letteratura italiana… e, sì. “Beatrice” FACEVA parte dell’elenco. Però avevamo tutte la sensazione che fosse una soluzione troppo semplice e scontata. Stavamo cercando qualcosa di diverso.  

C’è un personaggio di nome “Filomena” nel Decameron di Boccaccio. L’anno scorso non avremmo mai potuto immaginare cosa avesse in serbo per noi il 2020, ovviamente… ma a posteriori trovo stranamente sensato avere una Shadowhunter italiana con un nome che deriva dall’opera di Boccaccio in un romanzo scritto durante una pandemia mondiale.  

Quando ho deciso quale personaggio del Decameron aggiungere al mio elenco, “Filomena” è l’unico nome a essermi sembrato adatto (vi chiedo scusa, ma ogni volta che leggo il nome “Fiammetta” mi torna sempre in mente quella Capopalestra di Hoenn dai giochi dei Pokèmon… e un’“Emilia” nel mondo degli Shadowhunters ce l’abbiamo già).  

“Filomena” è un nome antico e, sebbene oggigiorno non sia più così popolare, penso che vada benissimo per una giovane Shadowhunter italiana di inizio ‘900. C’è una Filomena persino ne I Malavoglia di Verga, del resto!  

Sia Cassie che Cat hanno subito adorato il nome, e anche io ero e sono ancora soddisfatta: “Filomena” ha un paio di significati che mi piacciono tantissimo… e uno in particolare mi sembra molto adatto al personaggio, ora che ho letto Chain of Iron. Non posso rivelarvi quale, però!  

Adesso non vi resta che scoprire chi omaggia il cognome… »

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 15: Night

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Night Rated: T 

A/N: A continuation "Game On” and “Pixie” Marinette had been in Gotham for a little over a year now, having left behind her life in Paris to attend Gotham University.  It all started when she got involved with Catwoman, who saved her one night when she was in trouble.  Then she got roped into a little game between Catwoman and Batman, and that was how she met Jason and Roy, Red Hood and Arsenal respectively. While with Jason and Roy, they had their ups and downs. Initially she felt that the two were overprotective, but they were able to reconcile after a fateful encounter in the Iceberg Lounge.  Ever since that fateful encounter, what started as a harmless little crush began to grow over time.  For once, she got to know people who understood both the real her and her superheroine persona.  They knew her as a quick thinker in battle, and a civilian with a tendency to catastrophize things.  While she was sitting in the car with Jason and Roy, driving back from Star City.  The only sounds that could be heard were the scratching of pencil on paper, and the hum of the engine as they drove.  She tried to throw herself into her upcoming design assignments that weren’t due for another few weeks, doing anything to avoid thinking about Jason sleeping peacefully in the front seat of the car.  Tikki was nestled in her bag nibbling on a cookie and only Roy seemed to notice how quiet the drive back to Gotham was.  She had developed a close friendship with the three of them, one which wasn’t complicated by secret and civilian identities.  They had each other’s backs in combat, and they worked well as a team together.  Marinette cursed herself, for the first time in a long time, she had relationships that weren’t complicated by secrets and secret identities.   Now she was going to ruin everything just because she could not keep her heart and her feelings under control, it was pathetic.  It was easier to think that Jason was a stubborn, sarcastic brute who couldn’t possibly understand her.  He could still be stubborn and sarcastic at times, but then he had to go and have another side to him.  A side of him that cared deeply for those close to him, a group of people that now included Marinette.  It wasn’t fair.  Marinette shook her head and turned her attention back to her design work,  these patterns weren’t going to sketch themselves. It was also one of the few times she got to work with more delicate fabrics. Jason was pretending to be asleep on the drive from Star City back to Gotham, not unlike the one that happened a few months ago. It seemed like yesterday they first heard about a new superheroine who managed to take on two of his younger brothers.  Marinette was certainly a girl with many contradictions, even when they first met her on that rooftop that fateful night.  She could be very creative with her magic yo-yo, and in a fight she was usually a level-headed and quick thinker.  That much was clear to anyone who saw her in action, which was probably for the best, given that Jason had a very short fuse and a tendency to brute force his way through situations.  By the same token, the same person was prone to flying off the handle in much more mundane situations.   One time she woke up early for a test that wasn’t for another two days, and flew into a panicked stream of consciousness that made it sound like she was going to be shipped back to her home city in a matchbox if she was late.  Jason didn’t dare turn around to look at her in the backseat, but he could just about imagine what she looked like.  The scratching of pencil on paper told him that she was probably designing something that had more in common with a ball gown than body armour.  Her skills as a seamstress came in handy when their body armour needed upgrades or adjustments, not everyone could be gifted with the power of a magic body suit.  Even Hal Jordan was a test pilot long before he became a Green Lantern, Marinette was just a teenager when she got given magic jewelry. Secret identities and personas aside, at her core Marinette was still the same person.  She was kind, forgiving, but most of all she trusted him, something very few people did.  At first he wrote it off as all of them having each other’s backs in a fight. While that was true it wasn’t the whole  story, he knew because he could say the same thing about Roy.  He considered maybe it was because she managed to calm his pit madness, but that was because she had the very creatures who created them by her side.  Jason still called her “Pixie '' from time to time, really out of affection more than anything.  He only used her name when he was being absolutely dead serious.  It was a lot more than that and he knew it, he knew that she was worming her way past all the walls he had put up, seemingly without even trying.  He convinced himself that it was dangerous for all involved, that it would just leave him vulnerable in the end.  She was getting closer and closer to his heart, at which point he would be completely and utterly vulnerable.  He wanted to hold her close to him, but was afraid that she would hold his heart in her tiny delicate hands and squeeze.  

Roy was exhausted, not just from the mission, but from being caught right in the middle of two of his friends pining after each other. In the car ride back to Gotham, he could easily tell that Marinette was busying herself with design work while Jason was pretending to be asleep.  It would be cute if it wasn’t a sign that these two were actively avoiding talking to each other. Possibly because they were worried they might slip up and reveal their very obvious feelings for the other person.  He overheard Marinette confiding in the Kwamis late one night, when she thought both of them were out.   Jason by contrast was a little less expressive, but Roy could still tell that he was also pining after her, in his own little way.   He had tried to gently coax it out of them, and even though they refused to admit it Roy could tell.   Marinette was an open book whenever he even suggested the idea that she might be slightly attracted to Jason. At the slightest suggestion that there was something between her and Jason, her face would go tomato red and she would deny it.  Jason was a much tougher nut to crack, but Roy already knew that from the get-go. If Marinette wore her heart on her sleeve, then Jason kept his heart guarded with steel and lead.  He tried to ask him about it on a mission, when Marinette was out of earshot.   Instead he took a leaf out of Dick’s book and asked if it was really the time and place for a “man chat”.  The three of them could be compared to The Three Musketeers, but Jason and Marinette were more like Beatrice and Benedict from Much Ado About Nothing.  He was cursing Jason’s detective training, because it meant he would see right past a forged love note, while making things worse for Marinette.  If Roy was still drinking, he would have probably told them that they should just screw and get it over with.  He was starting to understand why Lian would smush her doll’s faces together and get them to ‘kiss’.  That gave him an idea...

Marinette and Jason were calmly watching TV together one night.  It was Valentine's Day, but neither of them really had any plans with anyone.  Staying in and waiting for chocolate prices to crater seemed like a much better idea.  Tikki was perched on Marinette’s shoulder, while Plagg was about to inhale a very large piece of camembert. The two of them were a comfortable distance apart, neither of them were willing to make the first move.  Suddenly, Roy busts in through the front door. Dressed up as Arsenal with a few extra accessories, a tutu and a pair of fairy wings he likely borrowed from Lian. He came in wide grin, wielding his bow with an odd heart shaped arrow. 

 “Happy Valentine's Day bitches!” he yelled out, taking aim at Marinette and Jason. The grappling arrow wrapping around the two, tightly binding them together on the sofa. Just as Marinette and Jason realise what just happened, Roy runs back out the door, slamming it on his way out.

An awkward silence hung in the air as Jason and Marinette were tied together, their faces mere inches apart. Marinette blushing a storm, while Jason tried to keep his composure and looked away from her.  That said, he could feel her deep blue eyes watching him, and he was fairly certain she could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.  Their arms were clamped firmly to their sides, and both of them thought that Roy had done this as a stupid prank.  “Did Roy tell you he was going to…” Marinette began. “...put on a tutu and fairy wings and tie us up on the couch?” Jason finished, he swallowed, she already looked embarrassed by the whole situation.  “No, did he tell you?” he asked. Marinette shook her head, “No, but he seems to have got it into his head that you’re interested in me.” she said as she tried to wriggle free, “as if that would ever happen.” “I mean...” the conversations he wrote off as late night man-chats were starting to make sense to him.  “...is that really so hard to believe?” he asked quietly.  There was no keeping her at arm’s length at that moment, physically or otherwise.  He noticed that she had stopped trying to wriggle free of the cord wrapped tightly around him. “A little,” she said, “It just seemed too good to be true,” she muttered.  “You’re one of the few people who knows about both Marinette and Ladybug, you know that they’re the same person.”  she explained, “the idea that you would be interested in me on top of all that just felt like it was too good to be true, like something will do horribly wrong sooner or later. Like there was no way the universe was going to let me be that happy.” Jason was surprised to hear that, but also he understood what she meant.  It was funny how on paper, they were two completely different people, and in some way they were.  It was moments like these that reminded them there were still similarities that kept them together.  For the first time since Roy had tied them up, he looked at her. “Marinette, take it from someone who’s a literal dead man walking. Trust me, that is not the most impossible thing out there, not even close.” he tried to say, Marinette looked up at him, trying to make sense of the meaning in his words.  “If anyone’s going to get slapped around by the universe, and feel as if they don’t deserve to have someone who’s seen different sides of them and still cares about them, it’s probably me,” he explained. 

Both of them finally knew what Roy was trying to do,  after all he had been painfully obvious. Jason himself tries to get a sharp batarang from his pocket, he assures Marinette, “Don’t worry Pixie, I’ll get us out of here and we can forget this ever happened.” 

 Marinette remains silent as Jason struggles against the wire tying them together, Tikki floats to her side and whispers into her ear. “Marinette, it's now or never.” Marinette looks back to see all the Plagg cheering her with a grunt. If lifting the piece of camembert with little enthusiasm counts as cheering. 

 Marinette takes a deep breath, and gathers her courage. “Jason?” she asks, and Jason pauses to look back at her.  Her face had a rosy pink glow as she leaned forward to give Jason a kiss. Jason pauses in shock at first before, and slowly melts to return the kiss. As the two kiss, Tikki helps untie the two. Just as Tikki finishes untying, Marinette and Jason hold each other in a tight embrace, eagerly savouring their newfound relationship. 

 Roy peeked his head through the window watching Marinette and Jason finally confess to each other. “About time you two got together” he cheered from the fire escape, giving the two a thumbs up and a big grin. This breaks Marinette and Jason from their affectionate moment together, embarrassing Marinette and annoying Jason. 

 Jason stomps over to the fire escape, Roy nervously greets Jason “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

 Jason grabs Roy by the ankle, dangling him off the edge of the fire escape. “Pixie, why don't you give him a taste of his own medicine?” Marinete nods and walks over with the grappling arrow Roy shot at the two. 

 Roy pleaded, “Come guys, you two had it bad for each other it was obvious.” Marinette begins to tie Roy to the fire escape with the grappling wire. Roy attempts to struggle but Jason holds him down. 

 As Marinette progresses further in tying Roy up, his pleas become more and more desperate. 

 “I did you two a favour.” Roy begs, “Come on, is this how you two repay me? Help! Somebody! Batman! BATMAAAN!” Roy wailed. 

 Marinette and Jason ignore Roy’s begging. Once they were finished they both left, hand in hand, leaving Roy tied upside down to do some self-reflection. 

 BONUS 

Cupid: What's this I hear about you playing Cupid? 

Roy: Sorry, it was for two people who were actually in love. 

Cupid: Why you little- 

Roy: Cupid, it's been YEARS, you're a very attractive woman. It can't be that hard to find someone who loves you back, someone who doesn’t have a goatee.

[hookedonapirate]

Feels Like Home

Summary: Who knew how challenging it could be to run a funeral home with his brother while raising a daughter who’s growing up way too fast?

In order to lift some of the responsibilities off Killian's shoulders, Liam hires a mortuary beautician so his brother doesn’t miss out on the finer aspects of being a single parent. Killian’s initially opposed to the idea of hiring someone to do a job he can easily do himself, but when they hire Emma Swan, she might just have the right touch to put some life into the funeral home and add a little light to the darkness that’s been looming over the house since Killian’s wife died.

Emma's been living in her camper, trying to find her roots while pursuing her dream of going to Hollywood. But when an opportunity literally knocks on her door and she decides to give Storybrooke a shot, she sees an ad for a beautician job. But her clients aren't exactly what she was expecting—they're dead. As a cosmetologist, her job is to beautify people; she’s just not used to her clients missing a heartbeat. But it turns out, a funeral home and the people who live there make her feel more at home than she’s ever felt before. Besides, who needs glamour, glitz and celebrities when you can have doom and gloom and lifeless corpses? Not to mention a pain-in-the-ass boss who criticizes everything she does.

A/N: I'm not sure what possessed me to write this, but I was thinking about this movie a few weeks ago and rewatched it. Then this fic happened. And don't worry, it doesn't follow the movie scene by scene, it focuses on the adults more than the children, so I can assure you, Henry doesn't die from bee stings. The fic will talk about death and embalming (while doing research and watching videos, I learned way too much about the embalming process) but that's to be expected with a story that takes place in a funeral home.

A shout out to @hollyethecurious for helping me brainstorm and for the name, Beatrice. I was trying to think of a good name for Killian and Milah's daughter, and she pointed out it could be a female spin on Bae. Also a huge thank you to @ultraluckycatnd and @snowbellewells for beta reading!

This title comes from the song by Chantal Kreviazuk—Feels Like Home. I was trying to think of a good title for this story, and I usually listen to songs or look at lyrics for inspiration, so when I listened to this song, it just immediately clicked, and I had to use this title. If you ask me, this song should be Emma's theme song; it just fits her so perfectly It's also fitting for this fic because funeral homes are normally associated with death and sadness and grief, but in this story, Emma quickly associates this particular funeral home with a new beginning and hope and friendship and eventually love and of course, home.

Rated: Mature

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Chapter 1

“Papa, did you hear the news about Henry?” Killian’s eleven-year-old daughter climbs up onto the kitchen stool, her long, dark hair falling around her shoulders.

As he grabs the frying pan from the stove and transfers the scrambled eggs to a plate of buttered toast and sausage, he eyes her curiously. Whatever the news is, it can’t be too bad, considering there isn’t a hint of sadness or worry on her face. In fact, the way she looks at him with those big, sparkling blue eyes and an eagerness to keep his attention, reminds him so much of her mother, it makes his heart swell. And it doesn’t help that she wears her mother’s ruby red class ring around her finger.

Milah died of postpartum cardiomyopathy days after giving birth to Beatrice. Her condition was misdiagnosed as a typical pregnancy in her third trimester, and her doctor had written off her symptoms such as frequent night-time urination, fatigue, shortness of breath even when lying down, low blood pressure, heart palpitations and swollen ankles.

Killian was so angry and upset after he lost Milah, he threatened to sue the hospital and called her doctor a quack to his face. Luckily, his brother was there to talk some sense into him. Liam may be a stubborn arse at times, but he’s always been there for Killian. He’d been there to help Killian change his daughter’s diapers when he had no clue what he was doing; he was there to help him plan his wife’s funeral. He’d been there for Beatrice’s first steps and her first words and every other milestone she’s experienced. Of course, it helps that Liam lives here with them and is typically always available when needed. Still, Liam has never once turned his back on his brother or niece, and for that, Killian will be forever grateful.

“What news, Birdie?” he asks, placing the plate in front of her and planting a kiss on the top of her head as he runs a hand through her hair.

Beatrice grabs her fork and takes a bite of scrambled egg, mumbling her answer. “Henry found his mum.”

“How many times have I told you not to eat with your mouth full?” Killian grabs a small glass from the cupboard and fills it with orange juice, cocking a brow at her. “I wasn’t aware the mayor was missing.”

She shakes her head as he sets the cup next to her plate. “No, his real mum.”

Normally, Killian would argue and say an adoptive mother is a real mum in just about every sense of the word, but they’re talking about Regina, who’s not exactly what he would consider mother of the year. Henry spends most of his time here at a funeral home—where there’s almost always a dead person in one room or the other—rather than at his own home, which says a lot. Killian fills his mug with fresh coffee. “Is that so?”

She cocks her head to the side and gives him a deadpan look. “Papa, would I lie to you?”

“Lie about what?” Liam’s deep voice booms through the kitchen as he enters with the newspaper under his arm and a mug in the other hand. “Morning, little love.” He drops a kiss to the crown of her head and nods at Killian. “Little brother.”

Killian and his daughter both groan.

“It’s younger brother.”

“And I’m not little, Uncle Liam. I’m a young lady.”

Liam chuckles and shakes his head as he takes a seat on the stool across from his niece as he looks over at Killian. “She may look like her mother, but she certainly gets her sass from you.”

Killian rolls his eyes at his brother and grabs two plates, filling them with the breakfast he’d prepared.

“We were talking about Henry finding his biological mum,” Beatrice answers her uncle, taking a sip of her drink. When she sets down the glass, she licks the orange juice mustache off her upper lip. “He found her through a website called whosyourmama.org, got on a bus, went to Boston and knocked on her door.”

Liam sets down his newspaper, just as intrigued by this conversation as Killian is.

“Wait, you’re talking about your friend, Henry...” Killian’s brows are knitted with confusion as he hands Liam a plate of food, “...who’s ten years old?” He takes the stool next to her, setting down his plate and coffee mug. “He just got on a bus and went to Boston? By himself?” His heart clenches at the thought of his daughter doing something like that. He doesn’t even know what he’d do if that happened. He’d be so out of his mind with worry, he’d end up in an insane asylum. But he guesses that’s the difference between him and Henry’s mother, Regina.

She bobs her head. “Yep. When Henry didn’t return home by his curfew, Regina called the sheriff to report him missing. But by the time Graham showed up, Henry returned with his mum.”

Killian exchanges a look with his brother. “That’s bloody frightening to think about.” He looks at Beatrice. “If you ever did something like that, I’d have a heart attack, and your uncle would be planning my funeral.”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Papa.”

“Call it whatever you want, but it’s true.”

“My niece is right. You’re a drama queen,” Liam teases, taking a sip of his coffee.

Killian scowls and shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth. “I am not a drama queen.”

Liam looks at Beatrice sternly. “He’s right about one thing, though. If you ever went missing, we’d go crazy and turn Maine upside down looking for you.”

She sighs dramatically. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to run away.”

“How did Henry even get the money to pay whosyourmama.org? Wouldn’t that require a credit card?”

“He stole our teacher’s card from her purse.”

Killian’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s unlike Henry to do something like that. “Which teacher?”

“Mrs. Nolan.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he stole from someone as nice as her. I doubt she’d press charges.”

“According to Henry, his mum is going to the school with him to pay her back.”

“Well, that’s decent of Regina to do.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Not Regina. Emma.”

“You mean Henry’s biological mum?” Liam asks before taking a bite of toast.

“Yes. Henry told me via Google chat.”

“Well, if you ask me, that’s the least she could do, considering she gave up her own child,” Killian grumbles into his coffee mug.

“She was seventeen when she had Henry. She was trying to give him his best chance.”

“Giving him his best chance would be keeping him, if you ask me. Regina doesn’t give two bloody shites about him.”

“She’s the mayor. She has the weight of the entire town on her shoulders. That’s a tremendous responsibility.” Beatrice grabs the jar from the middle of the kitchen island and places it in front of her father. “And that’s a quarter in the swear jar.”

Killian sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Bloody hell.” He'd started the swear jar years ago to prevent sailor talk around his daughter, from both him and Liam. But obviously, it doesn't work very well.

“That’s fifty cents,” Liam points out with a shit-eating grin.

Killian grabs two quarters and tosses them onto the mountain of coins already in the jar. “It’s a miracle I’m not broke by now.”

Beatrice shrugs. “You could always stop cursing.”

Liam stabs a piece of sausage and points it at her. “The little lady’s right.” He shoves the sausage into his mouth as Beatrice rolls her eyes.

“It’s young lady.”

“So is this Emma staying in Storybrooke now?” Killian asks curiously.

“I think so. She almost went back home, but Henry begged her to stay. Regina wasn’t happy about it, but if there’s anyone who can make demands from the queen of Storybrooke, it’s her ten-year-old son.”

“Must be nice to just pick up everything, quit your job and leave everything else behind at the drop of a hat,” Killian says sarcastically. “Some people actually have responsibilities.”

Beatrice shrugs. “She’s a hair and makeup artist. She could probably get a job anywhere.”

Liam arches a brow, his interest piqued. “A hair and makeup artist?”

Killian scoffs and waves a dismissive hand. “Please, that’s the most useless job there is.”

Liam cocks his head, glaring at his brother. “You of all people know that’s not true. Don’t you do hair and makeup on your clients and make them look presentable to their loved ones?”

“Aye, but that’s different. I cover up injuries and wounds, reminders of what killed them. Living people don’t need makeup; they only wear it to look pretty.” Killian goes back to eating his breakfast as Liam continues to glare at him.

“There are many reasons people wear makeup. Whether it be to feel better about themselves, to look nice for a special occasion, hide blemishes or rosacea, or because they simply want to. Emma helps people do that.” Liam wags a finger. “And you know what, depending on whether her experience and qualifications align with our needs, we could use her.”

Killian looks up at his brother and furrows his brows. “Use her for what?”

“For our beautician opening.”

Killian freezes, the hand that’s holding his fork pausing mid-air. “What beautician opening?”

Liam holds up the Storybrooke Daily Mirror and points to the Classifieds section. “The one I posted an ad for.”

Killian reaches across the bar counter, rips the paper from his brother’s hands and scans the classifieds.

Sure enough, there’s a posting for a beautician for Jones Parlor. Killian lowers the paper, glaring at his brother. “Why do we need to hire someone for a job I already do?”

Liam looks over at Beatrice and clears his throat as though he doesn’t want to say his reasons in front of her. He returns his eyes to Killian. “I just think it will take some of the load off your shoulders, that’s all.”

Running the funeral home is supposed to be a team effort. Even though Liam carries out most of the administrative tasks, including the hiring, and Killian does more of the grunt work, the decisions should be both of theirs, not just Liam’s. Killian points at himself, a mixture of anger and disbelief spiraling through him. “But you didn’t discuss this with me.”

“Because I wanted to find someone good for the job first and prove to you how handy that person would be. I knew you wouldn’t approve otherwise.”

“It doesn’t matter if you found someone or not. I won’t approve either way. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of the makeup and hair.”

“I know you are, Killian. That’s not what this is about.”

Killian shrugs. “Then what’s it about?”

Liam waves off his question. “Nothing. Just forget about it. You’re right. We don’t need to hire an outsider.” He grabs the paper from Killian and folds it up. “I’ll have the ad canceled.”

“Thank you.” Killian returns to his breakfast, stabbing aggressively at his eggs.

“So where is Emma staying now?” Liam asks Beatrice curiously. “I doubt Regina is letting her stay with her and Henry.”

“In her camper.”

Killian arches a brow. “A camper?”

“Yeah, you know, an RV. Like the one we rent every summer to go camping in.”

“Aye, but isn’t there a zoning law against parking a camper in the streets?” Liam points out.

“Regina said she could park in her driveway overnight, but that she would have to move her camper elsewhere come morning. Besides, she’s best friends with Sheriff Graham, so I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t fine Emma if Regina asked him not to.”

Killian scoffs and lifts his coffee mug to his lips. “Best friends? More like…” He refrains from finishing his sentence by taking a sip of his coffee. Even if Beatrice knew what fuck buddies meant, it’s not appropriate to say it in front of her. Besides, that would probably cost him more than a quarter to the swear jar.

“More like what?” Beatrice asks curiously.

Damn.

He should know by now not to speak his mind in front of his daughter. She’s too smart for her own good.

“More like a special friend,” Liam replies for him.

Beatrice’s dark brows scrunch together in confusion. “What’s the difference?”

“A special friend is just like a best friend, except they engage in...more adult-like activities,” Liam explains carefully.

Killian takes another sip of his coffee.

“You mean they’re friends who see each other naked without being boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”

He chokes on his coffee and gapes at his daughter as Liam dissolves into hearty laughter. “How do you know that?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a drink of orange juice. “I may be eleven, but I’m not a nitwit.”

“She has a point there, Killian. Our lass is no dummy.”

“I know that, but I haven’t taught her about the birds and the bees yet,” Killian reminds him.

“Aye, and perhaps you should’ve before she heard about it from her friends.”

“She’s too young. She’s not getting married until she’s at least thirty.”

“You don’t know that. Besides, you need to prepare her for the real world. Because you and I both know, not everything is unicorns and rainbows, even when you’re young.”

Killian sighs as he cleans up his coffee mess with a paper towel. But Liam’s right. He and Killian were both young when their mum died of cancer. Their papa dealt with his loss by opening up a funeral business. He thought he could numb his own pain and loss by focusing on others’ pain and loss. After he died, his two sons took it over. Killian and Liam both know Brennan died of alcohol poisoning, but they made Beatrice believe he died of a broken heart, which isn’t too far from the truth.

When Brennan realized he couldn’t numb his pain and heartache, he turned to alcohol. He might as well have put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. It would’ve been quicker and less painful. Now the brothers run the funeral home together. Liam helps the families of the deceased plan and prepare the funeral arrangements while Killian acts as the mortician, or as he prefers, undertaker, performing embalmings, making the bodies presentable to their loved ones and preparing them for burial services. Or, as the brothers like to put it—Liam takes care of the living and Killian takes care of the dead.

“Would you two stop fighting over me?” Beatrice presses the pads of her fingers to her temples. “You’re giving me an aneurysm. It’s bad enough I probably have cancer.”

Killian buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. One of the “perks” of raising a daughter in a funeral home is that she’s learned many ways people can die, so she always thinks she has some type of illness herself. Killian likes to think it’s her way of empathizing with the dead, much like he empathized with the deceased before he studied mortuary science and learned to have compassion rather than empathy. So instead of focusing on death and loss like his father did, he focuses on the positive outcomes, like the fact that the deceased no longer has to suffer or that a donor recipient will get to live when they receive an organ from their donor. Or that one doctor’s negligence resulted in his wife giving her life to a beautiful baby girl.

Killian stands from his stool and gathers the dirty dishes. “Now, what makes you think you have cancer this time?”

“Because my left breast is developing at a significantly faster rate than my right.”

He doesn’t even dignify that with a response, and all Liam can do is chuckle.

Killian shakes his head and drops a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, I think it’s time for you to go to school, love.”

A fun fact: If you've seen the movie, you know there is no swear jar; I wrote about the swear jar for sailor talk because of The New Girl and because I knew Killian would be dropping his bloody hell bombs in front of Beatrice and so I thought it would be funny for his daughter to call him out on it and tell him to put a quarter in the swear jar. Well, after I wrote about the swear jar, I was reading trivia about the movie and I kid you not, I learned the cast had a swear can for "trucker talk" as Dan Aykroyd called it, so I just thought that was funny that I thought to include it without knowing it's something they actually did while filming.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Tagging: @onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @ultraluckycatnd @melly326 @snowbellewells @tiganasummertree @ilovemesomekillianjones @jonesfandomfanatic @captainswan-shipper88 @julesep3026 @wyntereyez @lfh1226-linda @dreamingdreamsalways

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed :)

[snicketstrange]

Rereading The Chapter 14 (The End)

I believed that in ASOUE's universe, chapter 14 was apparently written some time after the rest of the book. But I abandoned that idea. Lemony wrote to the editor that chapter 14 could be found at the end of the same manuscript.

We then have the epigraph of Le Voyage. It's an excerpt that portrays the moment of death, and perhaps the acceptance of death. But I don't think this means that Lemony is completely certain of the Baudelaires' death. I think it means he's pretty sure he won't write about the Baudelaires anymore. I think the right question is "why did Lemony decide to stop writing at this point in the story?" "Why did he plan to write more and then stop writing?" I think Lemony didn't promise to write the entire story of the Baudelaires. He promised to write the story of the conflict between the Baudelaires and Olaf. So when he was sure of Olaf's death, and that was only with the additional information he had probably had access to through Beatrice Jr, Lemony realized that the research might be over. The certainty of Olaf's death was the event he determined when the narrative came to an end. So, it makes us wonder what kind of promise Lemony made. Apparently he promised that he would clarify the facts surrounding the charges the Baudelaires went through, as well as the contexts in which these events took place. That's why it was so important to get this information out to the general public. Because it involved the honor of the Baudelaire family. Furthermore, this explains why he could not rely solely on the account given by the Baudelaires themselves: after all, they were being accused of being lying criminals. Lemony needed to clear their name, proving, so to speak, that the facts reported by the Baudelaires were real, and it was not enough just to record what he read in the island book.

I think this is the most sensible explanation, and as a theorist I will defend it. But as a fan willing to come up with slightly bizarre ideas, I feel like imagining Lemony realizing that his own death was close to happening. It would be interesting to imagine that Lemony's research took so long that he was an elderly man when he was publishing The End. And the reason Lemony finished his work at this point would be his physical limitations. That would explain shocking secret #13: "he's finished." And more than that: it would even explain the title of the book: "The End of Lemony Snicket". And furthermore, this would explain Lemony's dedication to Beatrice in chapter 14. After quoting the words of Charles B., in which the poet compares the hour of death with the setting off of a ship, Lemony claims that both he and Beatrice are like boats sailing at night, but especially her. Both were on a dark and lonely journey, but she was already dead. "

Beatrice's last words recorded in the book were really emotional to me when I first read them, and they still are today. Especially after I watched the Netflix series, it's now possible to imagine a very specific face when I picture Beatrice. And it's possible to think of a specific soundtrack when I read this.

About the baby's name, on my Headcanon Violet is the name of Mrs. W, who was presumed dead around the same time as Lemony. And in my Headcanon, just as Lemony didn't really die, she didn't either. I still like to think that she was the mystery woman on TGG, and that's the real reason Quigley used the name Violet in the message he sent to submarine Q.

I think this is the first time I stop to think that the Baudelaires ate crab. This is unclean food for those who practice Judaism as a religion, isn't it? I even thought the roast lamb was a reference to the Passover celebration, but they wouldn't do that by eating crab. Or is it that in a book in which Daniel Handler implicitly criticizes religion, he did so on purpose? I think it's unlikely, but still possible. But, albeit unintentionally, the Baudelaires rejected the religious customs of their ancestors in a book in which religious customs are questioned and this is significant.

"The baby had heard about danger, too, mostly from the register of crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind from which the Baudelaires read out loud each evening, although they had not told the infant the whole story. She did not know all of the Baudelaires' secrets, and indeed there were some she would never know."

The above excerpt is important as it reveals that Lemony has information about Beatrice Jr's future as he was writing this chapter. This explains how Lemony knows what happened in this chapter: Beatrice Jr told him. Lemony did meet her, and he realized that the Baudelaires hadn't told her the whole story.

A detail that has always pleased me in this book is to notice that after 1 year, Sunny stopped babbling words and has a more conventional and extensive vocabulary. I find this compatible with the fact that 1 year has passed and it's also compatible with her character development arc. One of asoue's themes is "how some children are forced to mature too quickly because of tragedy". Sunny, for example, needed to learn how to cook and convince herself that she loved doing it and that she was good at it in a few days. And all this before she learned to speak English properly. She needed to help with a birth long before she fully understood issues related to human procreation. But in chapter 14, she finally had the opportunity to develop without tragedies forcing her to skip important steps in life.

"Do we take this?" Violet asked, holding up the book from which she had read out loud.

"I don't think so," Klaus said. "Perhaps another castaway will arrive, and continue the history."

"In any case," Sunny said, "they'll have something to read."

Please realize how important this dialogue is. Daniel Handler placed this dialogue here to make sure the reader understood the source of information Lemony had access to: the island book. The children wrote about their own story in that book, including their thoughts, feelings, and private conversations. The children shared some details about ancient events, about when Sunny wasn't even born. In the book, Lemony found details about some events that took place on the island before the arrival of the three Baudelaires.

"I want to make sure these life jackets I've designed will fit properly."

Well... It's good to know that, even though the boat sank, the Baudelaires had lifeboats. Their chances of survival really increased a lot. And knowing that Beatrice Jr managed to survive a shipwreck, it's quite possible that they did too.

The Baudelaires watched her approach, wondering what the next chapter in this infant's life would be, and indeed that is difficult to say. There are some who say that the Baudelaires rejoined V.F.D. and are engaged in brave errands to this day, perhaps under different names to avoid being captured. There are others who say that they perished at sea, although rumors of one's death crop up are often revealed to be untrue. But in any case, as my investigation is over, we have indeed reached the last chapter of the Baudelaires' story, even if the Baudelaires had not.

Lemony just reports here what he heard. Although Daniel Handler intentionally wishes the ending to be left open, and I will respect his decision, I will speak my opinion. They didn't die at sea, though. Note that Lemony directly relates the baby's future to the future of the three Baudelaires. The way Lemony wrote here suggests that the baby's future is as uncertain as the future of her adoptive parents. But we TBL readers know the truth about Beatrice Jr.'s future. Beatrice is alive! So the most likely situation is that her parents are also alive. ( And who knows other characters that we thought had died there on TBB... could it be that at least one of them could also have survived?)

But the question is: if Lemony knows the baby survived, why did he hide this information from the reader? Certainly to protect his niece. Lemony didn't lie, just omitted some details.

The baby paused, and looked at the back of the boat, where the nameplate had been affixed. She had no way of knowing this, of course, but the nameplate had been nailed to the back of the boat by a person standing on the very spot she was standing—at least as far as my research has shown.

Lemony once again dismantled specific knowledge through research, which could only have been done through information provided by others. Beatrice Jr needed to tell Lemony exactly where she was at that moment and Lemony needed to compare that with the information Beatrice Sr and Bertrand wrote in the island book. And then, on visiting the site, Lemony was able to ascertain the most likely position for those descriptions. While Lemony is a bit mistaken, the research process must have been like that.

Finally, she uttered a word. The Baudelaire orphans gasped when they heard it, but they could not say for sure whether she was reading the word out loud or merely stating her own name, and indeed they never learned this. Perhaps this last word was the baby's first secret, joining the secrets the Baudelaires were keeping from the baby, and all the other secrets immersed in the world. Perhaps it is better not to know what was meant by this word, as some things are better left in the great unknown. There are some words, of course, that are better left unsaid—but not, I believe, the word uttered by my niece, a word which here means that the story is over. Beatrice.

Oh... How I love this ending. That's when I felt my head explode for the first time in my life, and I'm still picking up the pieces.

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 33 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Beta makes his final move against the survivors as the group prepares for the final showdown against the Whisperers and our story comes to an end.

Word Count: 4971

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Sanctuary” by Welshly Arms

Note: THANK YOU. That is all I can really say. I have never written something this long and I am forever grateful for the handful of you that have stuck with it for all these months. Happy TWD 10c premiere and I can’t wait to write even more for you though I may need a break for a bit! I hope you also listen to the song for this chapter, I think it fully encapsulates the relationship between Negan and the reader! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC

————-

They say that Death rode on a pale horse as Hell followed behind, but they had never considered that Hell was with them all along and that they were only waiting for someone to swing the sword.

Your sword hung on your hip as the rumbling sound of the Dead crashed over you in waves. From the tower window, it looked as if the ground was alive with insects rather than crumbling bones and rotting flesh.

As soon as Gabriel sounded the alarm, you and Negan went off to help where you still could. Michonne was frantically searching for Judith who had run out after her uncle in hopes of helping. She only began to relax after Daryl had gotten through to her to tell her that they were on their way back to the tower.

They also had Kelly and Carol with them.

Gabriel was running around with blankets, extra weapons, and ever extra bottles of water for those he would be moving out of the tower as the herd got closer. You were starting to feel a bit out of sorts. You had been waiting for this moment since Beta had singled you out in the clearing during the fair and yet, you didn’t know if you were ready to face him for the last time, but you had to be.

At this point, it was either him or you.

The Walkers were a big problem, but then there were the Whisperers that moved within the herd. There was no way to properly single them out without wasting long-distance ammo. These were the days that you missed the armory back in Alexandria.

The only guns in the group were Gabriel’s shotgun and Rick’s colt python in which Judith carried. It wasn’t enough and you knew that. The only hope that any of you had was that Michonne and Gabriel’s plan of diverting the horde would stand up.

When Daryl and the others returned, Gabriel explained what he wanted to do.

“Is that even going to work?” you asked as you stood in the hallway.

“It’s the only thing we’ve got,” Gabriel said. “If we can get the stereos working and lead the horde away, it may be the only thing capable of drawing away this large of herd.”

“What about the Whisperers in the herd?” Kelly asked. “Isn’t their whole thing herding the Dead towards a certain area?”

“Negan said that it’s more complicated than that,” you said. “It’s not an exact science. If they try to force the Walkers, they start to become more aware of the Living among them. It never ends well.”

“Meaning what?” Carol asked.

“Meaning I don’t like our odds,” Michonne said.

“Neither do I,” you agreed.

“It’s either this or we wait to be slaughtered,” Gabriel said. “And considering we got kids in here, I don’t like that idea at all.”

“Of course not,” Michonne said. “Okay, so we get to the wagons on the outskirts and we get them hooked up, then what? Where do we take them?”

“We can figure that out once we get them away from the tower,” you said. “Beta isn’t going to stop until we are all dead. He can’t take on all of us at once so he’s using his Walkers. This may be the only opportunity that we have to get to him.”

“Beta is not the only enemy out there,” Carol said.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you shot back and Daryl got between the two of you.

“Easy,” he warned. “We are not going to get anything done by fighting among ourselves. Gabriel is right, we have to get to the wagons.”

“We have to get through that horde before we do anything,” you said.

“We’ve done it before,” Daryl said and you quickly realized what he meant as did the others. Michonne made a face of disgust along with your own.

“Well, this isn’t going to be pleasant at all,” you said.

“Never is,” Michonne added, “but we gotta do it.” Frowning down at Paul’s coat, you sighed.

“Fine, someone find us some Walkers,” you said, “and make them extra bloody.”

--------

“Have I told you yet that I hate this plan,” Negan said as you finished strapping your knives to your thighs and storing more in your coat. 

“Many times,” you said with a sigh. 

“And yet, you’re going through with it,” he said. 

“Like Gabe said, we don’t have many other options,” you said, turning to him. “Unless you know if any RPG’s just happen to be in this very building with useable ammunition.” 

“Afraid not,” Negan said with a frown. 

“Then it looks like we are shit out of luck, honey,” you said as you double-checked your weapon on your hip. “I know you’re worried about me, but I have to do this and so do you.” 

“Nah,” Negan said, disagreeing. “I’m not exactly an invisible force when it comes to these assholes. I’ll stick out too much, you’re going to have to do this part without me.” 

You knew he was right. There was no doubt that Beta had found Alpha’s head and knew that Negan was the last one to be with her. While Beta still wanted to kill you, right now, Negan was number one on his kill list. You were just hoping that he would be too distracted with his own vengeance to recognize yours. If you could keep hold of even an ounce of surprise, then this would be a whole lot easier. 

“I get it,” you said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.”

“Thanks,” he said. You then pulled him in for a harsh kiss, putting all your passion into it. If this was the last time you held him like that, then you were going to make it count. Pulling back, you stared into his eyes, eager to see that fire. When you did, you gave him a half-smile. 

“Now or never, big man,” you said. “Are you with me?”

“Damn right,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He then pushed you back towards the main hallway where you were supposed to meet Daryl in order to don your Walker disguise. As you walked away, he felt as if you were taking a part of him with you and he prayed that part would be enough to keep you safe.

----------

“Our plan is the same,” Gabriel said as Negan listened at the side. “Lead the horde away, just not from Oceanside as we had planned. Once the Walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke, We ready?” Gabriel asked Luke who was standing next to Jules. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, technically,” Luke said with an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Okay. So, these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B, and I gotta plug and plug,” he said.

“And then we should be good to go?”  Kelly asked. 

“Hopefully,” Luke said.

“That wagon is on the other side of the horde,” Beatrice said. 

“Which is why we have these,” Daryl grunted as he and Jerry dragged in two extra-large Walkers into the foyer of the tower. 

“Oh man, this is just wrong,” Luke said. 

“But it works,” Gabriel said. “Trust me, I know.” Negan smirked at that, remembering that time he and Gabriel had done the guts trick to get back into the Sanctuary. That time felt like another lifetime ago now that he was thinking about it. 

Negan stepped away from the group temporarily, heading to one of the vacant watchpoints. His eyes scanned the horde for Beta, but he couldn’t see the man amongst his Dead. If Beta was out there, he was staying out of sight for a reason. Negan never pegged the man as one who would lead the army. He was more of a free agent when it came to taking orders from his Alpha. However, now with Alpha gone, it seemed as if the Beta had finally taken command of the pack. 

It wasn’t very reassuring. 

Negan had seen some large hordes since this had all started. He had even told you about a particular one that scared the hell out of him. Negan didn’t think a tow truck would be able to get through this one even if it had a flame thrower attached to it. Michonne was right, he didn’t like their odds either. 

Taking one last look, Negan turned away and headed back into the fold. 

As he neared the main area of the fighters who were waiting to go out, he noticed you, soaked in Walker blood, trying not to gag. If it was any other scenario, he would think it was adorable.

It was a moment later that Daryl noticed Negan. 

“Hey,” Daryl called, approaching Negan, “why you clean?”

“I ain't goin’,” Negan declared.

“You've done this more than any of us,” Daryl said. “How the hell is this any different?”

“I am on the tip-top of every skins' kill list. Especially Fee Fi Fo asshole. So, if the idea is to get through without drawing a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standing next to them,” Negan said, not liking the idea of more of these people dying because of him. 

“That's a bunch of bullshit,” Daryl said, shaking his head. “You wanna be a part of this? You gotta put your ass on the line just like everybody else and (Y/N) needs you by their side.” 

“They understand,”  Negan said. 

“Do they?” Daryl scoffed. 

“Yeah, I do,” you said as you approached. “I thought we could do this together, but we can’t. At least, not this part.” Negan nodded, agreeing with you. 

“We’re just leading the horde away,” Daryl said. 

“You are,” you said. “I’m not.”

Daryl understood your words immediately. Negan, who had already guessed your plan, was silent as he stood by your side. Daryl was shaking his head as he looked at you. You were one of his closest friends and he was just realizing how serious you were when it came to getting to Beta. He had been so focused on Carol’s vendetta against Alpha, that he had missed the signs of your own fury.

“No,” he said, “not like this.”

“I’ve already made my decision, Daryl,” you said. “You’re not going to change my mind. Look, Gabriel is staying behind to protect the kids and I need you to disperse the herd.”

“Are you hearin’ this?” Daryl asked Michonne who was nearby. 

“I am,” she said with a nod, “ and I am trusting that they know what they’re doing.” 

“Fucking ridiculous,” Daryl said as he stormed away. 

“Great, so if I die, he’ll be dancing on my grave,” you said as you watched him walk away. 

“Daryl will be fine,” Michonne assured you. “Besides, Daryl doesn’t dance,” she said with a wink and a nod before going to follow him in preparation to leave. 

-----------

You lost sight of Negan shortly after the group headed out of the tower. 

While you were still covered in the Walker guts, you weren’t leaving just yet. You had a plan and you needed to stick with it. Standing across from Dianne, you watched as your family began to move through the Dead. You could make out a few of them, but not everyone. Also with the sun beginning to set, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost all visibility.

Everything that had happened since that first wind storm, was suddenly echoing around in your head. You had lost people shortly after that night and it just kept crashing down like that tree that collapsed the wall behind your house. You weren’t even sure if your house was still standing at this point. Aaron and Alden had radioed to say that the horde had moved through Alexandria, trampling it. They were supposed to keep on them, but then their line had gone silent and nobody was hearing from them. 

It was making you nervous, not knowing where your friends were. You knew that Enid was worried, but she was staying busy, looking after the kids with Siddiq who was constantly hovering over Rosita and Coco. Considering they were the only doctors in the group, they would not be going out into the horde until it was clear. They would head straight for the meeting point and even then it was a risk to have them out there. However, you knew that they were strong fighters and that they would do everything to survive. They had proved that the night Alpha had taken them. 

The Fair seemed so long ago. That moment of you walking up the hill to see your friends and family on pikes still haunted you, but you used those feelings of horror and despair to keep your vision alive. The vision you had of your future with both Negan and Lydia by your side. 

You had always fought for family and you were not going to let Beta take that away from you. 

A sudden scream broke you out of your thoughts as Beatrice went down in the horde. Dianne was stunned next to you as you watched the woman being torn apart by Beta’s guardians. You knew that Carol had been with her, but you couldn’t tell if she was down as well. You couldn’t look away as blood and flesh were covering the Walkers as they feasted on your friend. 

Holding your head higher, you moved away from the window and headed towards the elevator shaft. Catching Negan’s eye who stood near Lydia, you nodded to him. He nodded back and with one final look, you grabbed the rope and began to propel down, adjusting your focus not on your family above, but the enemy below. 

-------

“They're coming up,” Judith said, who was staring at the stairwell in horror. Gabriel pushed her back, holding her tightly.

“You all know what to do,” Gabriel said. “Dianne, you get the first group. Children and wounded come second. If Rosita argues, just come and find me.”

The evacuation went smoothly as Dianne got everyone out, even Rosita and her baby. It was going well, but Negan knew it wasn’t nearly done. There was more work to be done.

Not too far away from Gabriel, Negan spoke to Lydia. “You know how this ends,” he said with a sigh. 

“I don't and neither do you,” Lydia argued, looking up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, kid,” Negan said. “You being here when the shitstorm hits ain't changing what definitely is happening.”

“I'm not leaving,” she said defiantly. 

“They're never gonna trust me, you,” Negan said, knowing well enough that no matter who he wanted to spend his life with, he would never be more than what these people remember from eight years ago. “Doesn't matter what we do now. You can just slip out, down, and dance your way through the Dead.”

“So can you,” Lydia pointed out, gesturing to the Whisperer mask he still had in his jacket. 

“Like you said, I ain't no hero,” Negan said. 

“You could be,” Lydia prompted.

“Well,” Negan said, pulling her into his side. “I guess that's what I'm doing now. You be careful, kiddo, and you know what?” Negan then pulled out another mask from his coat, one that Lydia instantly recognized as her mother’s. “You take this and you use it for good, you know, if that’s something you feel like doin’, alright?”

Lydia took the mask in her hands and clutched it in a fist. 

“Don’t die,” she whispered. “Please, Negan, I can’t lose any more family.” 

“I ain’t plannin’ on it,” he said as he kissed the top of her head and then turned his back on the room. Lydia watched as Negan took hold of the rope that led into the elevator shaft. Not looking back, he began to descend. He didn’t stop until his boots found solid ground again.

Shoving the mask onto his face, Negan pushed out into the world, ready to face anything that it threw at him. Even if it was for the last time.

He was on the outskirts of the horde when he exited the building, but he didn’t see any Whisperers and he didn’t see you. He didn’t think you would be waiting out in the open so he figured you had disappeared into the trees or even the horde itself. 

Pulling the bat off his shoulder, Negan looked down at what you had coined “Lucille 2.0”. His hand wrapped around the end of the bat, feeling the familiar grip. With a deep breath, he held it close to his face one last time. “Thanks, old girl,” he whispered before tossing the bat into the horde of Walkers. He watched as it disappeared amongst the Dead and felt another weight disappear from his shoulders.

Drawing his knife, Negan began to move through the herd in hopes of finding you and the man you were going to take down. He just hoped that Daryl’s plan started to work and that the building behind him didn’t succumb to the wave of Walkers among him.

-----------

Something was wrong, that much you knew. 

You didn’t know what it was, but the horde had stopped moving in the direction of the cliffside. You could hear the crashing of metal and cracking of stone behind you as the horde moved into the building.

The only good thing was that only the Whisperers could move up into the building and you were just hoping Gabriel had enough fighters to keep them back. However, he was also trying to evacuate people so it could easily go bad very quickly. 

Fresh blood was splattered on nearby Walkers and you were praying that it was Whisperer blood and not the blood of your family. You wanted to stop and search for any bodies, but so far, you had gone undetected in the herd and you needed to keep it that way. 

Shouts of alarm came from the building, but you couldn’t turn back and so, you kept Walking.

It was well into the evening when everything seemed to slow down. You had been moving through the horde slowly, taking out any Whisperer that recognized you. It was easy to do, a few quick slashes and the blood would attract the Dead. However, as you killed more of them, they began to realize the enemy had infiltrated their own army.

It was a few minutes later that you saw a familiar face in the crowd. Magna moved behind a slow-moving form and then slit their throat. The Whisperer fell to the ground as Walkers fell upon them, and then, Magna was gone. 

You heard more sounds of choking as more Whisperers fell to the phantom movements of your friends and family. You could never pinpoint where they were in the crowd, but soon, you began to join in the stealth mission. Using your smaller blades, you cut down Whisperers, silencing them once and for all. 

When one went to stab you first, Kelly was there in a second, slitting their throat, and throwing them down to the ground. You nodded to her as you passed by and she reached out and grabbed your hand quickly before continuing on. 

Everything was going as planned, but you couldn’t find Lydia. You didn’t know if she had joined up with Daryl or had stayed behind with Gabriel. You hoped that Negan had eyes on her, but you didn’t know where he was either.

As the sun finally set and darkness fell, the horde began to thin and the enemy was finally exposed. 

Negan saw him first. 

Beta stood amongst the dwindling Dead acting as if he was the king of them all. A moment on the left, caught both men’s attention as Alpha’s mask moved through the crowd.

Negan shook his head at the move Lydia had made. If he wasn’t sure that she wasn't, he would have thought she really was his kid considering how daring she was with taunting Beta like this. 

Beta stared at her in awe until she disappeared again from view. It was enough of a distraction for Negan to move in.

He knew you had to be close so with a smirk, he let loose his memorable melodic whistle, something he hadn’t done in a while. 

He just hoped that you would get the meaning. He was essentially sending up a flare in the form of a few notes. “Come get him,” Negan whispered as he approached Beta. “Hey, shithead,” he spoke louder, gaining the attention of Beta. 

The larger man instantly locked onto Negan’s position with ferocity. Recognizing him, Beta charged right for him. Negan braced himself for impact when Beta threw a Walker at him. “Shit!” Negan said as the Dead man fell upon him, its jaws fighting their way towards his throat. Pulling his knife, Negan finished off the Walker, kicking it away, but Beta wasn’t done. 

He threw himself toward Negan as the latter tried to get to his feet. Beta aimed his fist at Negan’s head, catching him in the temple and Negan went down hard. Blinking back the black spots in his vision, he focused back on the enemy above him.

“For Alpha,” Beta growled. Negan stared him down as Beta raised his knives above his head, ready to strike true, but a sound from his left made him turn. He snarled as you came running from the horde with your sword in your hand. Beta didn’t have any time to move as you rushed past him, your blade slashing out to the side and cutting both of the man’s Achilles tendons. 

Beta yelled out in pain as blood pooled from his ankles. Negan pushed him off of him as you circled back. Kicking his knives from his hands, you reached down and shoved your blade into Beta’s shoulder. The same shoulder you had injured in your fight with him in Alexandria. Beta bared his teeth at you and that’s when you noticed the new mask on his face.

It was half of Alpha’s own face.

He seemed to be sneering at you as you reached forward and placed your hand on his throat, forcing him to look at you. “I’ll kill you,” he spat. 

“You make veiled threats,” you said, quoting what he had first said to you in the clearing as your friends were being slaughtered by his Alpha. “I told you that I wasn’t going to die like this. Not by you or anyone.” Beta yelled, trying to get up and attack you when suddenly Daryl appeared out of the darkness. 

Pulling his blades, Daryl brought them down into Beta’s back, keeping him in place. The shock of pain sent Beta back to the ground. Blood bubbled at his lips and you leaned in closer, making sure your face was the last one that he saw. “Killer,” Beta spat at you as Daryl pulled his blades from Beta’s body.

“No,” you said as you pulled back and then in one fluid motion, buried your sword up into his chest. “Survivor,” you corrected as you withdrew your weapon and kicked him to the ground and towards his own Walkers who smelled the fresh blood immediately. 

Negan and Daryl instantly, stepped in front of you as you watched the Dead tear apart Beta. The sound of tearing flesh and the growls of the Walkers had never sounded so liberating before. Negan slowly took hold of his mask and tore it from his face, letting it drop to the ground beside him. Daryl, who had been the first one to fight Beta, let out a breath that spoke louder than words.

They had won. 

“Now is it over?” you asked, leaning on your sword, 

“Yeah,” Daryl said. “It’s over. Come on,” he said as he passed Negan, knocking his fist against the taller man’s shoulder. Negan then reached down and took your hand in his and without looking back, walked away from the bloodbath that had ended the war.

---------

The sun was rising by the time, you managed to find the group again. 

You, Daryl, and Negan found Carol first. The woman looked as if she had been through hell, but she lit up as soon as she saw her best friend. Daryl grabbed her first, hugging her close. It immediately reminded you of when they had reunited after Terminus. 

Looking around, you couldn’t find the person you had been worried about since you had dropped down the elevator shaft. “Lydia,” you said, “where is she?” Carol looked up from her moment with Daryl and approached you. 

“Rendezvous point,” Carol said. “She went looking for you. Both of you,” she said, sending a look to Negan. You didn’t hesitate to start running through the trees. Negan was right behind you as you jumped over old roots and fallen branches. Your only thoughts were on Lydia and if she was okay. Seeing the break in the trees ahead of you, you slid to a stop, your eyes scanning the area. 

Negan arrived right behind you, but then, he froze. He felt as if the world was suddenly pulled out from under his feet. Everything around him felt on fire as he beheld who was kneeling in front of Judith, speaking softly to her.

Maggie Rhee. 

You noticed his hesitation immediately. “What’s wrong? Do you not see her?” you asked, still looking around for Lydia. 

“(Y/N)…” Negan said slowly.

“What?” you asked and then he was nodding over to where he was looking. Turning, your eyes found Maggie who had finally noticed Negan. The woman was staring at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Negan swallowed thickly as Maggie stared him down.

There weren’t many people in the world that scared him as much as Maggie Rhee did and he was not looking forward to the words she would definitely be throwing at him. “Ignore her,” you said.

“(Y/N),” he said again. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him back to face you. He did, looking down at you with worry in his eyes. 

“Just for right now,” you said. “We need to find‒”

“Hey!” a familiar voice called out and you could have sunk to the ground at the amount of relief that flooded your system. 

“Oh, thank god,” you said as you turned to see Lydia running towards you. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked exhausted but she was alive and that was all that mattered. Lydia ran right to you, throwing her arms around you and Negan. You didn’t hesitate to follow suit, wrapping your arms around both of them. 

Your family. 

Negan squeezed both of you tight in his arms, finally letting his heart settle from all the adrenaline that was pulsing through him. “Is he dead?” Lydia asked as she was pressed between you two. 

“He’s dead,” you whispered. “I promise, we got him.” Lydia pressed herself tighter to you before she stepped back with a relieved expression on her face. You then grabbed her and checked her for injuries. Lydia was doing the same as she checked over you and Negan. When Lydia noticed the blossoming head wound on Negan’s forehead, she became worried.

“I’m fine, kiddo,” he assured her. “I’ll take a bruise over a body bag any day.��� Lydia then looked from him to you and then back at him. 

“Does this mean you’re staying?” she asked, looking at him with hope in her eyes. 

“Nothing is going to make me leave you,” he said. “Either of you.” Lydia let out a breath as she moved in to hug him again, coiling her arms around his waist. He held her back and sent a wink to you over her shoulder. You moved and picked up his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, not caring who was watching. 

You would deal with her later. 

“So, now what?” Lydia asked.

“Now, we start fresh,” you said, taking her hand in yours, Lydia leaned into Negan, her head resting on his chest. “And who knows, maybe we discover a little more about each other along the way.”

“I like the sound of that,” Negan said as he tugged you into his side. 

“Me too,” Lydia sighed. 

“Good cause I am not giving up on either of you,” you said, trying not to get emotional, but it was futile. Letting a tear fall, you smiled at them. “You’re my family,” you choked out. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Negan said as he leaned down and pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed him back quickly, knowing there was a future ahead of you filled with more. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said. “Until the end of our little universe.” Negan grinned at that as he pulled you and Lydia in closer, holding onto his found family. 

There was a lot more to come and you knew that. With Maggie’s reappearance, it was not going to be easy and there were always going to be more enemies and wars to fight. However, because you had the man you loved and a kid who was a hell of a fighter, you knew you were going to be okay no matter what the new world threw at you.

After years of feeling like an outsider, you finally felt whole and it was all because you took a chance and spoke to the big bad wolf. 

THE END.

TAGS: @not-too-tall-for-trick @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

please do make a list of Korean Isekai you’ve read, I’ve been wanting to get into them more 👀

And the word has been spoken

I was going to use images for each but tumblr only allows 10 or them 😑. Imma list all isekais/re incarnation webtoons that I personally recomend, a note though that last night I actually opened just a few more tabs with new ones to read so I may give this list an update later lol.

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Long list bellow!

Doctor Elise

Not exactly my best recomendation seeing I kind of dropped reading it but I still go back from time to time. Main character is currently on her 3rd re incarnation and set on being a surgeon and making use of all her knowledge on earth. It's actually really interesting! Reason I dropped is more related to the romance, but that is simply out of my own personal preference and I don't consider it bad at all.

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The Justice of Villanous Woman

Also dropped but it was actually because I missed too many updates and now I need to re read it jajdjxkwhdjskaj, it's not a WOW story but it's good, specially since the main character is pretending to act like a villainess (two faced on purpose) against the ACTUAL villainess who was just pretending to be nice. It was a really good twist.

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La Dolche Vita di Adelaide

This one is actually completed! And it's really good too!! The female lead is very assertive and the male lead is one or those that can be pretty shy lol. It's a really nice read.

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Reminiscence Adonis

Badass female lead that I would gladly let step on me. It's really good but I also dropped due to missing too many updates lololol. The main character and the male lead basically flirt with each other all the time later in the story it's ridiculous l o l o l o l.

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The Abandoned Empress

Though I dropped due to it not being my cup of tea it may just be yours since although not my preference I can't deny the story is actually good. Female lead was done so much wrong to her in the past and is trying to change her destiny even against God.

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Survive as The Hero's Wife

One of my favorites big time!!! Female lead is amazing and male lead is so. damn. cute I can't even. Also ART????? It's so damn pretty. Female lead re incarnated inside a novel, she makes a REALLY good use of all her knowledge.

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They Say I Was Born a King's Daughter

Not gonna lie this is just one I read to pass the time. Entertaining enough though the story itself is, ???????. It takes a while to get used to the art style. Though I only find it mildly interesting, it can be really good to someone else. And I really cannot say that this one is in any way bad because it absolutely isn't. Prepare for frustration directly related to strong mysoginy though.

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The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke's Mansion

Another one I dropped because I missed too many updates jshbdcjshejcksjenfoskjfjoa but it's really good and the main character basically takes to shit. Her main goal is scape death.

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Miss Not-So Sidekick

This one is a very comedy centered one , I dropped due to the fact because updates are pretty damn slow I ended up loosing the track of the thing, what I am doing now is waiting for it to basically end so I can read it all in one sit. It's actually pretty good and the art style is very unique!

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Suddenly Became a Princess One Day

ALL TIME FAVORITE OH MY GOD WITH EVERY UPDATE I LOSE ANOTHER YEAR OF MY LIFE SPAM. Just, just give it a go. The art is BEAUTIFUL, the characters extremelly well made, and the main character is just fucking great I love her.

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I Was Born As The Demon Lord's Daughter

Another one I dropped due to slow updates that caused me to lose track;; But it's actually good! And the autor did the thing many don't do in these stories: have the main character actually be someone and give her a story that actually becomes reason of many of her actions and feelings in her current life. Also soft good Dad uvu.

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The Emperor's Companion

This one was too frustrating so I ended up dropping but I can't deny it's good so I will recomend it. To wake up in a body of someone who was supposed to have a lot of responsability but has been in a coma basically all her life which resulted in her underlings going ape shit under corruption and now that she's awake she gotta fix it.

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The Villainess Reverses The Hourglass

ANOTHER ALL TIME FAVORITE AND THE ART IS SO GOOD TOO. The main character is NOT pretending to be a villainess, she is straight up made of wrath and spite and is set on ruining those who ruined her first in her previous life.

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The Duchess With an Empty Soul

So. Damn. Interesting!!!! The way the main character is portrayed wasn't something I have seen many do, and she's a badass!! Male lead is a good man uwu. Also it's one of those with 'marry me but don't expect love'.

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A Stepmother's Marchen

One 👏 More 👏 Favorite 👏 the art is BEAUTIFUL, the characters are WELL MADE, and I just LOVE the interactions between them, be it from interactions I want to punch one of them in the face to interactions where I just am in love. Also OLD PEOPLE ARE DRAWN SO BEAUTIFULLY. The art in this one is just BEAUTIFUL and I really can't even-

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Beware of The Brothers!

Same creator as Suddenly Became a Princess One Day, only this one is actually deal with a lot more, serious (?), subjects in which one(just a single one) of them was the reason I dropped. But in fact, said subject is currently being really well fucking written, so although not my cup of tea, it definetelly deserves a chance.

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Beware of The Villainess!

I KNOW many of you know this one and I KNOW all of you also love the female lead, the blue werewolf, the *cough* lesbian *cough* heroine and the maid. I love them too. It's a REALLY good one and it also is one of my all time favorites. Be ready to want to kill some guys though lol.

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Lucia

Just- just read it. It's GOOD. And recent updates just started going deeper. Please. It's good, I promise-

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The Evil Lady Will Change

It's also pretty damn good and also has the thing with 'marry me but don't expect love'. Both female and male lead are actually pretty good guys but their reputation was twisted so now they are seen as villanious like in public eye.

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Priscilla's Marriage Request

Powerful female lead that is set on avoiding the outcomes of her previous life. But of course, once one manages to change the course of the previous story a new one starts, and in that new one she won't have her previous knowledge for it. Also she has a crush on the male lead ever since her previous life l o l.

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This is an Obvious Fraudulent Marriage

Female lead is quite oblivious and the male lead only becomes better with time. The female lead may throw a few tauntruns but they're never annoying. I really like this one.

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I Became The Villain's Mother

Also dropped because of slow updates, to be reborn as the mother in a family of villains and trying to give them the love they lacked. Both father and son and little shits.

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The Villain's Saviour

Though the fact that the female lead cries way too much is a bit annoying, the story is so damn interesting. Male lead is basically a literal psychopath. The drama is off the charts too, specially since this one also makes use of Soulmate Marks.

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Beatrice

One more on the list of dropped because of slow updates so now I am waiting for it to basically end so I can read it all in one sit. The fact she is insekaid is only shown at chapter 4 nsksjxksnekxjasfo, it's a good one though.

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IRIS - Lady With a Smarthphone

Although I wish they would have actually focused more on the fact that she has a phone and put it to more use, it's actually a really interesting story in which the female lead is aiming to destroy everything related to all the pain she faced in her past life, and she is being very through with it.

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The Youngest Princess

Badass female lead re incarnated in the same world so it's not isekai but it's very much re incarnation. Family interactions are great in this one lolololol, female lead is really good as a character. I have re read this one quite a few times though it's still very much only on the beggining of the whole thing.

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The Duchess' 50 Tea Recipes

Came for the isekai, stayed for the female lead's obsession with tea to the point you could make memes about it. Poor male lead losing his position to TEA. It's in all honestly one of my all time favorites and though it is very focused on tea, it's very entertaining as it deals with other subjects too. It's so amazing how some problems were actually solved with tea. Very recomended.

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Chitra

When you are reborn in a world that of all game functions it has decided to be GATCHA. It's really damn good though and the art is hella great, extra plus for comedy material lololololol.

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The Villainess Lives Twice

Female lead is very particular, she isn't nice but she isn't necessarily evil, her actions are pretty manipulative due to it being all she has ever known and she uses herself as a mere tool to have others achieve their goals, automatically achieving her own goals. I just find the way she works really interesting as she goes against those who ruined her in the past.

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A Capable Maid

Not really isekai nor re incarnation but I felt the need to put it here due to the fact that not only it is great but also due to the fact that the female lead had visions of several times in history that has helped her in many tasks.

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A Returner's Magic Should Be Special

Now I'm not sure if it's korean but I love it so it's here. This time we have a male main character, it's really damn good and I read it all first in one sit. Main character went back in time before apocalypse right after he just destroyed the cause of said apocalypse in the future. Now he is aiming to avoid the apocalyspe alltogether and make sure his loved ones stay alive and well this time around.

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The Pet of The Villainess

This one is so damn interesting, seriously. It destroyed so many too often used tropes in these kinds of webtoons and its PERFECT. I seriously recomend it just from the fact it takes a completelly different approach to many now "cliches" in these kind of webtoons.

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Please Throw Me Away

Another interesting one, male lead is a huge puppy in love with a distrustfull cat female lead. Her family is shit and I would pay to have them destroyed. Have I said the male lead is a huge fucking puppy.

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Actually, I Was The Real One

When you are accused of being fake and sentenced to death only to be told by the fake herself that you were actually the real one all this time. Main characters has no socializing habilities and it's cute lol, she is doing her best. This time she is making sure to try to avoid the same ending, and searching to know why she was brought back in time.

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I Became The Hero's Mom

This girl took stanning to the next level and decided that no, since now I have the chance I will make sure my favorite character grows up as a happy child being loved and smiling instead of suffering. Male lead is the dad and he is so fucking great.

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A Young Lady is a Royal Chef

This one is pretty centered in food as the title says, it's pretty new so the story hasn't gotten a chance to fully develop just yet but it's still interesting enough to keep me hooked.

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When The Villainess Loves

B O I, I DIDN'T EXPECT TO LOVE IT BUT I DID AND HAVE RE READ IT MANY TIMES AND I NEED MORE UPDATES AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Anyways this can actually manage to hurt your feelings with "fake angst" and I give kudos to that lolololol. The male characters are killing me seriously, they're too cute, then too hot, then too cute, THEN TOO HOT, BUT THEN S O C U T E-

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I've Become The Villanious Empress of a Novel

Also one fairly new to the point the story hasn't fully developed yet, I really like it solely for the fact the female lead is now on the road to fix the bullshit around her. She's also a badass I would gladly let step on me.

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Shadow Queen

A big FUCK YEAH to this one because the main character deserves it. After dying to a very thought out plan and even having her son killed, she is now planning on turning the tables and ruining the ones making the plan from inside. She is amazing and I love her pls read.

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The Lady and The Beast

Honestly this one is both comedy gold and angsty at the same time the mix of feelings makes me go jshejdhsowjebfoshexiwnnfso, it's so hella great though, it's also basically new but it has developed it's story quite a bit.

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This Girl is a Little Wild

And to finish this list on a gold but sad key, this one is also one of my all time favorite, the female and male lead are adorable and ridiculous together and I love them, the main character is so likeable and the plot has so many puzzles but, rumor says the original creator has dropped this, thought it is sad I hope said creator is okay, even incompleted it's still a really damn good read.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

sigh no more

The crowd whistled its approval before gradually dispersing, and Mai sent him a lethal glare as she approached him. Zuko expected her to storm past, but instead she paused at his side, closing her eyes as her face became expressionless once more. “You always leave before it’s over,” she murmured. Their shoulders were almost touching. “I know you of old.”

And then she was gone.

Much Ado About Nothing AU, which coincidentally fell in line with Day 3: AU of @maikoweek! Hurray for a lovely happenstance. I did twist around a few aspects of the play to fit it better for Maiko/ATLA, but BxB was too good of a Maiko dynamic to pass up, even if Zuko is nowhere near as suave as Benedict, lmao. I really think Mai is a lot a like Beatrice, albeit with more deadpan, monotone sarcasm rather than high energy banter. I hope you enjoy these four Much Ado excerpts that I have Maiko-fied. :)

Read here on AO3! (Rated T; length is just under 5k.)

N.B. You don’t need to know anything about Much Ado About Nothing to read this fic! Bonus points if you’re familiar with the play, though. ;)

I.i.114-143

“I wonder why you’re still talking, Prince Zuko. No one is listening.”

Zuko’s shoulders stiffened at the familiar, dry tone. He wasn’t sure if his heart skipped a beat from irritation or excitement. Attraction, too, was undoubtedly involved. Not that he’d admit it aloud. “Lady Disdain,” he said, recalling the barb he’d practiced in the mirror back at the palace. He turned around to see none other than the Lady Mai - as expected - with her arms crossed over her chest. “I… didn’t know you were still alive.”

Ugh. The perfect set-up with a pathetic follow. How embarrassing.

Mai raised an eyebrow at him, perhaps as surprised at his weak retort as he was. “How can disdain ever die when all you do is add fuel to her fire, Prince Zuko?” She smoothed the front of her dress. “Surely you, heir to the royal throne and a firebender, would understand that.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, keenly aware they now had the attention of a crowd of Fire Nation citizens. Azula’s calculating stare behind him dug into his spine. “Lady Mai. You know as well as I do that the Fire Nation once again welcomes me with open arms.” He sent her a sideways glance. “Including your parents, for that matter.” He didn’t miss how she flinched at his words.

This month at her house would be… the longest of his life.

“I am certain Prince Zuko is loved by all in the Fire Nation, Lady Mai,” Azula teased, filling the tense silence. His sister never had been able to remain out of his relationship - former relationship - with Mai. “Except for you, of course.” She laughed, a bit louder than necessary. “Why, he’s turned down a dozen proposals in the past two hours since we arrived! And yet…” She sent Mai a casual, seemingly-innocent glance. “Zuko loves none.”

Why Azula alway felt the need to lie, Zuko didn’t know. What he did know was that her interruptions were not helping. And he didn’t appreciate the reminder of Mai’s hatr-

No. She didn’t - couldn’t -

No.

Zuko didn’t appreciate the reminder of Mai’s dislike for him. The loss of which he could only blame himself for.

Mai snorted. “And every woman in the Fire Nation is better off with his rejection.”

Zuko stiffened at the blow as the crowd snickered around them.

“But, I suppose I understand his desire to be alone, never falling in love,” Mai mused, a small smirk sliding onto her lips. It was the closest expression to a smile Zuko had seen on her face in a long time. “I’d rather hear a platypus-bear roar at a turtleduck than a man swear he loves me.”

Zuko glared at her, the memory of himself swearing his love to her before… before their separation bubbling hotly to the forefront of his mind. Anger soon overwhelmed any appreciation he’d had of her almost-smile. “And the Fire Nation is grateful for that, too, that way no man suffers from some” - what had Azula said to the jackass guard on their way in? - “some predestinate scratched face!” He paused. “Er, from being with you.”

Despite his faltering response, Mai returned his heated glare with an icy one of her own. “Scratching couldn’t make it worse, if the man had a face like yours.”

The crowd collectively winced at her words, and Zuko’s left hand crept up to brush his scar. Meanwhile, Azula’s eyes bore a hole into the back of his head - waiting. She was waiting for him to respond.

The flicker of guilt that flashed across Mai’s face disappeared as soon as it had come, her expression returning to its typical, unimpressed facade.

She hadn’t meant it like that. Zuko wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He could just - tell, when it came to Mai. And before he’d - he’d left, she’d never… No. Zuko knew her well enough. Better than he deserved to know her. And Mai would never use his scar against him.

But, as crown prince and as her guest for the next month, he still had to save face. Not to mention Azula’s intense stare from behind him was yet to lessen.

“You talk more than a parrot-snake,” he snapped, which wasn’t really true, but the crowd delighted in the petty insult nonetheless.

“A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours,” was Mai’s cool response.

Zuko barked a laugh. “I wish my ostrich-horse ran as fast as your mouth.” He held up his hand to stop her before she could respond. “But you’re free to tell yourself whatever you want, Lady Mai. I’m done here.”

The crowd whistled its approval before gradually dispersing, and Mai sent him a lethal glare as she approached him. Zuko expected her to storm past, but instead she paused at his side, closing her eyes as her face became expressionless once more. “You always leave before it’s over,” she murmured. Their shoulders were almost touching. “I know you of old.”

And then she was gone.

Zuko exhaled slowly before returning to his sister’s side, not missing the amused expression on her face.

“I see you’re still engaged in your ‘skirmish of wits’ with Mai,” Azula noted, examining her gold-tipped fingernails. “A merry war that you would certainly lose without my help.”

Zuko glared at her. “I’ve told you, Azula. I don’t need you involved in my business with Mai. It’s not your responsibility to oversee us.”

Azula rolled her eyes. “Please. Zuzu. You should accept any help you’re offered regarding Mai, what with how your previous relationship with her ended in a dumpster fire. A fire you lit.”

Zuko grimaced at the reminder. He hadn’t wanted to leave Mai behind. But he’d had no other choice. And even if there had been a different option… Mai deserved more than him. Always. “I’d still appreciate it if you stayed out of my business.”

Azula raised an eyebrow at him. “For the time being, Zuko, your business is my business. This trip to Lady Mai’s is not only to reassess the good standing of her family, but also for Father to make sure you are trustworthy.” She gave him a knowing, almost wicked smile. “So you have a double reason to be grateful for my help. Because you wouldn’t make it without me.”

Zuko hadn’t realized his fists were clenched until his nails began digging into his palms. He forced himself to relax, nodding. But little tension left his body. “Fine.”

“That’s my brother.” Azula adjusted the golden hairpiece pinned into her bun. “Now. Mai’s parents are hosting a masquerade tonight to welcome us. Be your chipper self, and when the time is right, put on a mask and dance with Mai so she doesn’t know it’s you. Use that time to properly talk to her.” She chuckled. “And until then, do figure out what you’re going to say.”

The masquerade… Zuko had almost forgotten. And as much as he hated taking advice from Azula, his sister had a point. Maybe the best way to be honest with Mai was behind a mask. So he nodded once more, and Azula appeared satisfied.

Zuko didn’t deserve a second chance. Not from Mai, of all people. But… She was worth trying for one.

Mai was worth everything. She always had been. And he’d never forgive himself for not letting her know.

II.i.123-152

Finding Mai at the masquerade had been easy enough, even considering that Zuko had briefly left after the introductory festivities to find a mask. Mai herself was not wearing a mask, for one, but she was also…

Stunning. There was no other word.

Mai always had worn red better than anyone else in the Fire Nation, much to the envy of Azula. She radiated power and grace as she effortlessly floated between partners - Agni, it was a miracle Zuko didn’t chicken out of asking her to dance. At least his mask hid how much he was blushing.

“So you won’t tell me who you are?” Mai asked as they gently swayed to the airy tune.

“I’m… the Blue Spirit,” Zuko said after a pause, not wanting to deny her an answer but unable to tell her the truth, either. He deepened his voice as he spoke, though he wasn’t sure how aptly that disguised it.

Mai laughed - quickly, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips just long enough for him to revel in it. He hadn’t seen a real smile on her face in years. “You know, Blue Spirit, I had an interesting run-in today,” she said, changing the topic from his identity, for which he was silently grateful. “With none other than Prince Zuko.” Her eyes flickered across his mask. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Zuko stiffened at his own name, relieved that the panic written all over his face was at least hidden. He cleared his throat. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “Yes. He told me that I was disdainful, and that he could hardly believe I was still alive.” Bitterness flashed across her expression. “Maybe he has been gone for so long. Long enough to forget everything.” The grip of her hand that rested on his shoulder tightened, but soon slackened. “Sometimes it felt that way to me.”

“I’m afraid I’ve never” - he coughed - “er, I don’t know of Prince Zuko.”

Mai gave him a skeptical look. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

A statement, not a question.

Zuko was sweating too much. His palms had to be as slick as a fish - spirits, he couldn’t believe she was still dancing with him. The time to switch partners had already passed. Did she know who he was? What he was doing? “Not I, Lady Mai.”

There was a long pause before she spoke again. The only sounds were the music and the idle, lighthearted chatter around them. “Did Zuko never make you laugh?”

Zuko blinked at the sudden subject change. “What?”

Out of nowhere, Mai took the lead in their dance, walking the steps that men typically followed as her hand on his shoulder dropped to his waist. He instinctively fell back, allowing her full control. “Well, Zuko may masquerade as a prince,” she said sharply, “but he’s much more the prince’s jester. A very dull fool, whose only talent is lying to and leaving the people who care about him.” Mai dropped him into a dip, and Zuko grimaced behind his mask as his heel ground into her toes. “He works too hard to please those that will only bring him pain.” She then pulled him upright before letting go of his hand. “I’m sure he’s still at this dance. I could have sworn he stepped on my feet already.”

The blood drained from Zuko’s face. Did she know…? “If I run into him, I will give him your message,” he managed to say.

Mai snorted. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of complaining about me.” She shook her head. “Maybe my words will dissuade him from coming to dinner. I don’t want to see him tonight.” She clutched the red fabric at her sides. “Or ever again.”

Zuko nodded. He didn’t know whether to succumb to the anger bubbling in his chest or the guilt rising in the back of his throat. “You put the prince down, Lady Mai.”

Mai laughed. It was harsher, sharper than before. “It is well-deserved.” She leveled her gaze with the eyes of his mask. “I lent Zuko my heart for a while, Blue Spirit. Longer than he ever did me. I was always there for him, even when my parents told me I should walk away. I would have done anything for him.” She took a slow breath. “And what did I get in return?”

Zuko swallowed. “I - I don’t know, Lady Mai.”

“Nothing.” Her voice had dropped close to a whisper. “Not even a goodbye.” Mai’s fists unclenched, the fabric of her dress slowly falling loose. “Do you understand, Blue Spirit?”

Zuko hesitated, but nodded. “Yes. I do.”

“Good.” Mai turned away. “Enjoy the party.”

Zuko watched her figure disappear into the crowd. It wasn’t until she’d vanished from his sight that he realized… Oh, Agni.

He hadn’t said goodbye.

IV.i.269-350

Nausea lined every inch of Zuko’s stomach, bile threatening to rise into his throat and spill out at any second.

What… What had he just watched?

“Well, her father was right to reprimand her,” Azula said coolly. “Mai has no power. It’s time she learned that.”

Zuko stared at his sister in a mixture of shock and horror. “What? How can you say that? All Mai did was stand up for herself -”

Azula sent him a pitying look that silenced him in seconds. “Zuzu. She has nothing to defend. Mai is a lady, belonging neither with royalty nor with the peasants. She must learn to be silent, and to be satisfied with her station. It is the only way she’ll survive. Besides, her parents were probably just having a bad day and took it out on her -”

“Her father accused her of ingratitude and her mother stayed quiet the entire time he shouted at her,” Zuko interrupted, his fists clenching so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palms. He’d be amazed if there was no blood. “It’s obvious they’ve been through this before, Azula. Mai shouldn’t be treated like a prisoner in her own home because of one question! She shouldn’t be ignored or - or denied her voice! All she wanted was…” Oh.

To get away.

Maybe… she’d wanted to go with him. All those years ago.

“Mai knows as well as anyone else what her place is,” Azula snapped. “Second to the son. Behind the heir.” She shook her head. “I thought you’d learned your place, too, Zuzu, but now…” She glared at him. “I’m not so sure. Don’t make me tell Father that you have some foolish fantasy prancing around your head about abolishing the nobility just so your ex-girlfriend will feel better.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened. His scar ached at the reminder of his father. But he knew his sister’s words were merely a distraction. “I’m going to check on her,” was his final response before he followed the path Mai had silently taken out of the house.

He found her in the garden, sitting beneath a weeping willow. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she dropped her head, but not before he noticed the tearstains tracing her cheeks.

“Lady Mai,” he said slowly, lowering himself to sit beside her, “have… have you been crying the whole time?”

Mai wiped her eyes. “No.”

“Mai…”

She huffed. “Fine.” Her voice cracked, and she grimaced. “But I’m allowed to cry. It’s the one thing I have a right to do.” She shook her head. “At least in private.”

Zuko hesitated. “I don’t want to see you cry, Mai.”

“Then shut your eyes.”

Zuko chewed his bottom lip. He wanted nothing more than to pull Mai into a tight embrace, promising her that everything would work out and her parents would come to their senses. Even if those words might be - would be - a lie.

But it was no longer his place to do so. Not anymore.

“Your father was wrong to speak to you like that,” he decided to say. “And your mother was wrong to not step in and help you, either.”

“I’m well aware,” she said bitterly. “And I’d owe everything to the person who dared to actually tell them that.”

“Is there a way to show such friendship?” Zuko asked after a pause.

She laughed. It was harsh, scratching her throat. “Of course there’s a way. But I have no friends here.” She glanced at him before dropping her gaze back to the grass beneath her palms. “Not anymore.”

Zuko placed his hand on top of hers, scarcely managing to bite back a relieved exhale when she didn’t pull away. “Ty Lee is gone. Azula doesn’t count. But…” He took a deep breath. “Can a man do it?”

Mai scoffed. “Right. Because I’m sure the world considers it a man’s office to defend a woman.” She sighed, and he could feel her clench the grass beneath her hand. “Maybe it is. But it’s not yours, Zuko.”

Zuko knew it was now or never. He’d hurt her before. Maybe irreparably. But he had to try. She - Mai needed someone to be there for her, he knew she did. And he loved her. He - He wanted to be there for her in all the ways he hadn’t been before.

So maybe it was selfish, but…

“Mai.” He reached out, tucking her hair that had fallen loose from her buns behind her ear. “I… I love nothing in the world as much as you.” He gave her a weak, maybe too-timid smile. “Isn’t that strange?”

Mai froze at his words, and all hope bled out of Zuko’s body. He silently cursed himself. Why had he spoken? Why hadn’t he just accepted that he’d ruined things permanently between them when he’d abandoned her alone three years ago?

“It’s… not strange,” she quietly admitted, and Zuko’s heart skipped a beat. “I could say that I loved nothing as much as you, but” - she shook her head, frustration glimmering in her eyes - “you shouldn’t believe me when I say it, even if I’m not lying -”

Mai cut herself off again with a sharp inhale, pulling her hand out from under Zuko’s to wipe her eyes a second time. “I admit nothing.” She looked up at him, and the hurt in her expression was soon drowned out by a fragile, hopeful hesitation. “But I won’t deny anything, either.” She sighed in frustration, running her hands through her hair. “Agni, I’m so sick of feeling sorry for myself!”

Zuko’s heart was beating out of his chest. “You love me.”

Mai scoffed. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Zuko shook his head. “I didn’t think - after what I did - I don’t deserve -”

“It’s not about ‘deserve,’ Zuko!” She sighed again. “It’s never been about ‘deserve.’ Because you always loved me. The real me.” Mai closed her eyes, pain flickering across her face. “Yes. You screwed up. For a long time, Zuko, I thought I hated you. And I didn’t want to -  I - I couldn’t forgive you. Not at first.” Her gaze hardened. “And I’m still angry at you.” She clenched her fists. “But…”

Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat. “But what?”

Mai groaned. “Agni forgive me.”

Zuko frowned. Where was this going?

She exhaled slowly, lacing her fingers through his. “Zuko… I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. Even I told myself I had.” She laughed - still quiet, but without the harshness of before. “Maybe, if the time was right, I’d even act like Ty Lee and protest that I loved you.”

Zuko’s grip on her hand tightened. “What’s stopping you? Do it with all your heart.” He remembered Uncle saying that to his wife, eons ago. And he wanted to hear the response from Mai. All three words.

Mai laughed again, light and open for the first time since he’d arrived at her home. She turned towards him, cupping his face with her free hand. “I think I love you with so much of my heart that none of it is left to protest.”

Zuko stared at her, drowning in her presence.

And then he was kissing Mai, his hand resting at the curve of her neck atop her collarbone as he pressed her back against the trunk of the tree. She wrapped her arms around his waist in response, pulling him into her body to deepen the kiss before one of her hands rose up to entangle itself in his hair. Zuko regretted nothing more than when he had to pull away to breathe.

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” Mai whispered, her chest rising and falling with a rapid speed that told Zuko she’d enjoyed the moment as much as he had. She touched their foreheads together. “Just because we’re on kissing terms again doesn’t mean my expectations have lowered.”

Zuko was simply grateful she was willing to give him another chance. He pressed a gentle kiss to her jaw. “Ask me to do anything for you.”

There was a long pause. The air seemed to grow heavier in the silence.

“Kill my parents.”

Zuko eyes widened in horror. The social consequences, the punishment from his father, the possibility of another lifetime of exile… It was impossible. “I can’t.”

Mai jerked away from him as if she’d been burned. “You kill me to deny it. Goodbye.”

“Mai!”

She pulled her arm away as he grabbed it, pushing herself to her feet. “I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you.”

Zuko reached after her a second time, his hand closing on her wrist. “Mai, please -”

“Don’t touch me!”

The force of her words shocked him, and he let go. “Can we at least be friends again?” he finally asked, slowly getting to his feet.

She stared at him incredulously. The amount of emotion she was expressing in such a short span of time was almost foreign to Zuko, and yet he couldn’t help but feel a hint of satisfaction that she was only willing to be so expressive around him. “You’d rather be friends with me than fight with my enemy?”

“Are your parents your enemy?” he pleaded.

“Agni, you of all people should understand that, Zuko!”

He winced at her words, hand creeping up to touch his scar. He… Yes. He understood. Not that he’d ever wanted to think of Ozai, his father, as his enemy.

But just because Mai’s parents had never burned her didn’t… It didn’t mean they’d ever loved her.

“Have they not proved themselves in the height of villainy?” Mai hissed. “Treating me like our family is better off when I’m out of the house? When I’m in a different room? When I am silent?” She clenched her fists. “Showing every damn day that our name, our reputation will always be more important than what I want? Telling me that my little brother means more to them than I ever could? Making no move to help me when - when you left -” She choked on her words and shook her head, blinking back tears. “Spirits, if I was a man - if I was allowed control over my own life -” Mai dug her heel into the dirt, her hands slowly uncurling. “I would eat their hearts in the marketplace.”

Zuko inhaled sharply. That was near treason. “Mai, you can’t -”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can’t do!” Her voice broke, and Zuko’s heart shattered at the same time. “I’m tired of hearing those words! Every day! Do this, don’t do that, look, don’t touch, see without being seen!” She pushed her hair out of her face. “What good is being a prince, Zuko, if - if you can’t help people with that power? If you can’t take them with you?”

He heard what went unspoken.

Why did you leave me behind?

“I can’t escape this hell with wishing, so I’ll die here with grieving,” she finished bitterly, turning to leave the garden.

Zuko hastily stepped in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Mai, I swear -”

“I don’t need another broken promise from you, Zuko,” she said coldly, though she made no move to walk away.

Zuko flinched at her words. “Okay. You’re right.” He released her hands, exhaling slowly. “I can’t kill your parents, Mai. But” - he met her gaze directly to stop her from interrupting - “I can get you out of here. I - I don’t know how, yet, but we’re leaving. Soon. And this time, we’re going together.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mai. I never meant to hurt you.”

Mai didn’t respond. And when she fell forward into his arms after her knees buckled beneath her, Zuko held her close, willing to stay as long as she needed.

He was never leaving her again.

V.ii.42-103

Everything was in place.

That night, while everyone - including the servants - was attending a performance by the Ember Island Players, he and Mai would have the perfect chance to sneak out. Zuko wasn’t sure where they’d go. Maybe Ba Sing Se. Eventually, of course, they’d have to return to the capital. He had duties to fulfill as crown prince. And Mai…

Well, she’d be Fire Lady one day. Probably the best in history. If he had to, he would make them respect that.

“You asked for me?”

Zuko stood from the bench he was sitting on as Mai entered the garden, dressed in more relaxed attire than he knew she’d worn in a long while. He enjoyed seeing her comfortable. “Yes.” He moved forward to kiss her, but she sidestepped, giving him a teasing smile.

“I’m here for an update, Prince Zuko. If what you say satisfies me, then maybe - maybe - neither of us will depart unkissed.”

Zuko laughed. Seeing her in perpetual good spirits was his new favorite thing. Well, his new, old favorite thing. Mai was - she was beautiful all the time, no doubt, but there was a special twinkle in her eyes when she hated the world.

He’d rather die than ever again see her believe the world hated her.

“I have good news. Our plan is a go.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll meet you at your bedroom tonight when it’s time to leave.”

Zuko saw tension ease out of Mai’s body at his words, her shoulders dropping in relief. “Waiting for these next few hours to pass will take years,” she admitted.

Zuko chuckled. “Then let me distract you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back down on the bench. He’d half-expected her to stop him, and was silently overjoyed when she simply rolled her eyes before leaning back into his chest.

“Give it your best shot, future Fire Lord.”

“Hmm…” Zuko had to contemplate what best to say. “Okay. Tell me this - which of my bad parts did you fall for first?”

He could feel Mai laugh. The sound vibrated into his chest, even if he couldn’t see her entire smile. “All of them at once. But if anyone asks, none, and never.”

He kissed the nape of her neck, relishing in the shiver that ran down her spine. “As long as you’re honest around me.”

Mai hummed contentedly. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Which of your bad parts I fell in love with first?”

Mai laughed. “No. I mean I could ask you to always be honest with me, too. That said…” She turned in his lap to better face him, an edge of mirth to her smile. “Tell me - which of my good parts did you suffer love for first?”

Zuko found himself laughing, too. “‘Suffer love’?” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I guess I do suffer, since I love you against my will.”

“Oh, in spite of your heart, I’m sure,” Mai mused, a teasing glint now shimmering in her eyes. “Poor heart.”

Zuko chuckled. “Azula always said we didn’t know how to flirt like normal people.” Mai accepting him back into her life had made dealing with Azula’s temperament far easier the past few days.

“She might have a point.” Mai shrugged. “But who cares what Azula says? We found our way back to each other.”

Zuko closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers. “We did. And I’m never leaving you again.”

There was a pause before Mai responded. “Will you…” She took a shuddering breath, placing one of her hands on his chest. “Are you really going with me tonight?”

Zuko leaned back slightly, removing one of his arms from around her waist to cup her face in his hand. “Lady Mai, I will live in your heart, die in your lap, and be buried in your eyes. Most importantly…” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I will go with you wherever you travel.”

Mai leaned into a second kiss. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m never letting you say goodbye to me again.”

“You won’t have to,” Zuko promised. His grip tightened on her waist. “I know I’ve said it before, but I - I never wanted to leave you, Mai. And I know I hurt you.” He shook his head, gently running his thumb just beneath her eye. “I could apologize a million times and that wouldn’t make up for it -”

“Zuko.” Mai gave him a gentle smile. “You came back. That’s what matters.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow at her. “So… Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Mai rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t leave. “I think we’re well past that point, Zuko.”

And when she crashed her lips onto his for the umpteenth time, well… That answered any other questions Zuko may have had.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever,

One foot in sea and one on shore,

To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey, nonny nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo

Of dumps so dull and heavy.

The fraud of men was ever so,

Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so, but let them go

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey, nonny nonny.

[leechobsessed]

These Streets

Good intentions backfire

characters: Ella Sagen, Julian Devorak, Leila Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens) and Beatrice Viano (of @juliandev0rak) pairing: mostly beaellaleila but there’s logen angst there too words: ~3.1k  warnings: alcohol, aggressive/unwanted sexual contact

notes: this takes place a couple of months after Sunrise, Ella is still sad.

He had been watching her all day, she could feel it. 

He was trying to be subtle about it, but Julian had never been one for subtleties. At first, she had tried to ignore it, but she could tell by the growing tension in his shoulders and jaw that he felt the need to say something to her, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t want to hear it.

So instead, she chooses to focus on the task before her; taking inventory of the elixirs and potions in their medicine closet, mentally chiding herself for letting the stores get as low as they were, regretting allowing herself to be so distracted over the past few weeks. It would take her at least a week to replace all of these.

She holds her pencil in her mouth as she stands on tiptoe to reach the jars on the top shelf, grasping blindly before a leather-gloved hand reaches above her to retrieve the items for her.

“It must be difficult being so short,” Julian jokes, handing her the jars before retreating behind her. He sits against her desk, watching as she continues with her work. 

“I’m not short,” Ella responds, tossing a glance in his direction. “You just happen to be exceptionally tall.”

Julian chuckles, but offers nothing further, instead folding his arms across his chest, continuing to watch her work.

After a few more minutes of sensing his eyes on her, Ella sighs, setting her notebook and pencil down. She turns to face him, leaning in the doorway of the closet. “If you keep staring at me, I’m going to start to think you have feelings for me,” she jokes, raising her eyebrows. “Is there something on your mind, Dr. Devorak? Or are you in love with me.”

The doctor sighs, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on the desk, his fingers curling around the edge. “Ella, are you okay?”

She frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve known you a long time, longer than even Leila has— ”

“Oh, you love to bring that up, don’t you? Don’t let her hear you bragging—”

“ —Longer than even Leila has. And although you and I are nowhere near as close as the two of you, I hope you know…I hope you know you can talk to me if you need to.” He licks his lips, cocking his head to the side before he continues. “Especially if it's something you don’t feel like you can discuss with Leila.”

Ella places her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows. “What wouldn’t I be able to talk to Leila about?’

“Lachlan.”

At the mention of his name, Ella stiffens. It feels like someone had poured cold water down her spine, a buzz of adrenaline running through her veins from her core outward. She blinks at Julian, who sits quietly, still looking at her. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She does her best to sound convincing, but even she can hear the defensive tone in her voice, a feeble attempt to mask her true feelings on the subject.

“I’ve also known you long enough to know when you’re lying,” he counters, standing up from the desk when she turns her back to him, picking her notebook back up.

“I’m not lying,” she mutters, her eyes fixed on the paper in front of her. 

“Leila is worried about you. Beatrice too.”

“Why?”

“You haven’t been yourself since Lachlan left. I’m not trying to push you to talk about it, Ella, but as someone who fell in love incredibly fast with— ”

“I am not in love with him,” she interrupts, startling even herself with the malice in her voice. She takes a deep breath to calm the anger she can feel rising in her chest, before she turns fractionally to look over her shoulder at him, her expression serious, tears threatening in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, I would just... I’d prefer we not talk about it anymore.”

Julian nods slowly, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder before leaving her alone to her work. Ella sticks the pencil back in her mouth, grinding her teeth against it as she continues her inventory, or at least tries to.

She had been doing her best to put on a brave face in front of everyone, especially Leila. Because there really was nothing to talk about. He left, and he had every right to. She knew it was going to happen, he made no promises to stay in Vesuvia. 

Except he did, in memory at least. It felt like the streets of Vesuvia were haunted everywhere she went, and she found herself still looking for him with every flash of blue eyes, every crooked smile she came across. She felt like she was going crazy, and it was making it very hard to cast his memory from her mind.

She knew that even if she couldn’t talk to Leila about him, Beatrice would happily listen to anything she had to say. But she had Lysander, and she didn’t want to bring her friend’s mood down with her feelings for and about the youngest Lonan brother. 

The sound of the bell above the clinic door pulls her attention out of the closet momentarily, but she continues to count the jars of antiseptic and antiemetics and anti-whatever else they have, or rather don’t have. It's not until a few minutes later, when she hears Leila’s voice, followed by Beatrice’s, that she sets her book down and makes her way to the front of the clinic.

Julian, Leila and Beatrice all turn to her as she enters, looking very much like three people who were just talking about her.  

Ella chooses to ignore this and smiles at them, hugging her friends before stepping back to address them. “What are you guys doing here? You’re not sick, are you?”

“We’re going out drinking,” Leila grins, handing Ella a canvas bag. “I brought you a change of clothes. We need a girls night.”

“Out drinking?” Ella echoes, peaking into the bag. “Out where? It's not even sundown.”

“The Raven serves patrons at all hours,” Beatrice counters. “Julian can attest to that.”

“I sure— hey!”

The girls laugh, shooing Ella back into the office to get changed. She emerges a few minutes later, trying to wrangle her hair into something presentable after having it pulled up and out of the way all day. Beatrice smiles at her friend, motioning for her to turn around so she can quickly capture the uncooperative tendrils into a braid. 

“Ready?” she asks once finished, and Ella nods, shrugging her cloak on. 

The three women walk shoulder to shoulder to the Rowdy Raven, their arms looped together. As they walk, they keep the conversation light and easy, catching each other up on the gossip they’ve missed over the last week or so, their laughter echoing down the streets. 

Ella keeps her eyes focused on the stone beneath their feet as they walk, only looking up to laugh or respond to a question. She’s afraid to pull her attention away from the street for any longer than necessary, lest she be reminded of the time they ran from they rain and hid under the awning of that shop over there, or when he kissed her in that alley before bringing her to his ship, or when— 

“Ella?”

Ella’s eyes shoot up to Leila, who raises an eyebrow at her. “Counting the cobblestones tonight?”

“It’s been difficult, given the pace we’ve chosen, but I thought I’d give it a try,” she chirps back, sticking her tongue out at Leila who laughs in response.

“I’m sorry we’ve been distracting you from such important work, but it would seem we’ve arrived.”

Ella detaches herself from her friends, pulling the door open. She bows to them as she gestures them inside. “After you, my dears.”

They find their usual booth, close enough to the music, closer still to the bar, but far enough from all of the action that they can still have a conversation without having to shout. 

“What are we drinking tonight?” Beatrice asks, adjusting the sleeves of her shirt as she shrugs out of her outer cloak.

“I could use some liquor,” Ella offers. “The stronger the better.”

“I’ll go get drinks then.” Leila nods, leaving the table to maneuver through the small crowd toward the bar.

Ella turns to Beatrice, who has her eyes on the band, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she taps her fingers on the table to the beat of the music.

“Receive a letter from a certain professor today?” she asks, leaning forward to prop her chin in her hands.

Beatrice laughs, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe.” Ella smiles as she shrugs in response, sitting back as Leila returns with the drinks.

“Don’t ask what these are because I don’t know,” she says, first distributing a small glass of clear liquid to each of them, then handing them a mug of what Ella can only assume is Salty Bitters. “I asked Barth for a surprise.”

The women raise the clear liquid in toast to each other, slamming the drinks back with a grimace.

“Oh, gods,” Beatrice coughs, reaching for her other drink, taking a long sip. “Maybe no more surprises tonight, hm?”

Ella wrinkles her nose, following Beatrice’s lead and taking a sip from her own mug. “Yes, agreed.”

Leila laughs, in much less distress than either of the other women. “Oh, please. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mm, but you know what was bad?” Ella can feel the effects of the alcohol already in her cheeks, a faint tingle on her lips. “Julian finding it necessary to ask me about my feelings for your brother.”

Leila stiffens but recovers quickly, reaching for her drink. “Lysander?” she jokes, but the joke falls flat as Ella purses her lips. She sighs, tracing her finger along the rim of her cup. “That is bad.”

“You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, right?” Ella asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“To do with what?” Leila asks, confusion written across her features, her gray eyes narrowing.

“Asking him to ask me about your brother, Leila.”

“I didn’t— ”

“You don’t need to lie to me, I just— ”

“Ella, I I’m not— ”

“I’m not sure why everyone has chosen today to take such an interest in this—”

Beatrice sighs heavily, setting her drink down forcefully on the table, pulling the attention of the other women toward her. “I did! Okay? I thought maybe, since you obviously don’t want to talk to us about it, Julian would be the next best thing.”

Leila and Ella both stare wordlessly at her, blinking as they process the information. Then, they stumble over each other as they question her.

“You asked Julian to speak with Ella?”

“You wanted me to talk to Julian?”

Beatrice sighs again, brushing her bangs out of her face before addressing Ella, her hazel eyes softening as they look at her friend. “We all just want to make sure you’re okay, Ella. We know how you feel, um, felt about him. So we didn’t want to push you. But it’s… The last time you withdrew like this was after...” 

Beatrice glances at Leila before turning back to her, not needing to finish the sentence for Ella to figure out where it was going. After Leila died.

“I figured you wouldn’t talk to us, you’d rather talk to Julian than your aunt.” Beatrice sighs again. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, Ella.”

“You were going to contact Vivian?” 

Beatrice shrugs, picking at her cuticles. “I thought about it.”

Ella hides her eye roll behind her mug as she finishes her drink, standing up from the table to order more. She returns shortly with three more drinks, pulling hers immediately to her, while the other two remain in the middle of the table. 

“I’m fine,” she says, looking between her friends. “I have been. I’ve processed my feelings on the matter, and I’ve moved on. So I’d really appreciate it if we could talk about literally anything else.”

Leila smiles sadly, reaching for Ella’s hand. “Ella— ”

“What, Leila? There’s nothing, and I mean nothing else to talk about. He left!” Ella snaps, leaning back in the booth. She takes another sip of her drink, her skin buzzing with alcohol and irritation. “I thought this was a girls night? Shouldn’t this be more fun?” 

Beatrice closes her eyes briefly, collecting herself, not much different from when she has to deal with an uncooperative pupil. “Ella— ”

“Was this whole ‘girls night’ just a ruse to get me drunk and talk about issues I don’t have? I’m. Fine.”

Whatever Leila is about to respond with is cut short by the appearance of a tall, tanned, attractive man, who smiles at each of the women in turn. “Ladies,” he starts, his accent suggesting he’s not from Vesuvia, perhaps somewhere north. “Anyone care for a dance?”

Desperate to leave the table and try to get the thoughts of another man out of her head, Ella throws back the rest of her drink and stands up, her friends silently watching the two of them leave before exchanging a look between them. 

The man, who’s name has been obscured by the alcohol in her head, is a decent dancer. Too handsy, pulling her into him much too close to dance properly, but an okay dancer overall. And she’s enjoying herself, for the most part. Dancing is definitely preferable to talking. 

So she flirts back a little, wraps her arms around his neck, trying to focus on his blue— no, he has brown eyes, as he spins her around the dance floor. 

Eventually, the man suggests they go outside for some fresh air, leading her out the back entrance of the tavern. And soon enough, she finds herself pressed against the wall in the back alley, his hands resting on her waist as his lips hover above hers.

She knew he was going to kiss her, but she didn’t feel nervous. It felt more like… dread. She knew the kiss this man would press to her lips wouldn’t, couldn’t, compare. But she needed to replace these other memories with something else, whether that was good or bad, she didn’t care.

It has been almost two months to the day that she had last been kissed, not that she had been counting, but she hadn’t been able to get the memory out of her mind. With him, it was always the type of kiss that sent warmth and chills simultaneously from the core outward, a kiss that lingered on the lips and in her memory afterward, for hours, days, possibly even years to come. When she closed her eyes she could still feel the heat of his lips against hers, his breath ghosting against her skin when he pulled away to smile at her, before crashing back into her, as if she were all he could ever need in life. 

She wasn’t sure she’d ever be kissed like that again. 

This kiss, is nothing like the kisses that plague her memories. It’s rough, greedy, the intentions impure and unmistakable. Her body feels cold and tight, as if it were rejecting the contact before it could even occur. His mouth presses more firmly against her lips, his leg sliding between hers to pin her more solidly to the wall. His hands pull at her braid to tilt her head up into his mouth, and her stomach twists. 

This is all wrong. 

Lachlan had been an artist; with his drawings and his paintings, of course, but also with his lips and his hands, his eyes and his words. The way he touched her, looked at her, made her feel like she was a work of art, deserving of being admired and cherished and loved for what she was and all she represented to him. Every word he said to her, she believed wholeheartedly, trusted him fully. 

She shifts away suddenly, the feeling of unease growing in chest. The man in front of her frowns in the dim light, his hands moving from her hair to settle on her waist. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t—” she tries to pull out of the contact, but his hand catches her wrist as she does, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. 

His eyes narrow, his lips pulling into a tight frown. “What do you mean you can’t? You’ve been all over me all night, you can’t just—”

“Let go of me,” she hisses, yanking her hand away, but he shifts his body to block her exit.

“You’re such a tease,” he spits at her, his hands coming to rest on the wall behind her on either side of her head. “Don’t act like you don’t want me.” She turns her head to the side to avoid his lips meeting hers, just in time to see two figures emerge from the street. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Even in the dark, Ella can see Leila’s gray eyes flash as she takes in the scene in front of her. “You have two seconds to get off of her before you’re dead on the spot,” she warns, marching toward the man who immediately removes himself from Ella. 

Beatrice is at her side immediately, pulling her out of the alley, Leila now speaking threateningly to the man in a language Ella has heard her use before, and never in a positive way. 

“I’m sorry, Beatrice, I’m sorry,” Ella mumbles as Leila comes up behind them, still cursing. 

“Ella, it's okay, let’s just get you home.” Beatrice rubs her back, Leila coming on the other side of her to support her as they stumble into the street, still mumbling profanities under her breath in between comforting words to her friend. 

Ella chokes back a sob, suddenly overcome with emotions; the adrenaline from what could have happened, how thankful she is for her friends, how much they care about her, the pain at losing the only person she’s ever loved, most likely forever.

Her knees buckle, but Beatrice and Leila are there to catch her, pulling her into their bodies as she sobs into their shoulders.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry, I know you just want to help—”

Leila shushes her friend, stroking the back of her hair. “Its okay, Ella, we know. And we’re here for you when you’re ready.”

[lemonpeter]

Sugar and Spice

Chapter 4

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get out! I was just tired (and unmotivated) and today I’ve been traveling and finally doing Christmas with my grandma lol so it’s been quite a day. But! Here it is! I hope everyone enjoys 💕

Ps this chapter is written from Beatrice’s side of things! I was thinking it could be interesting to switch it up occasionally! Let me know how you feel about it! 💕

Warnings: pregnancy (per usual), vomit (not graphic), brief period mention

————

It had been three weeks since the IUI and there hadn’t been much sign of anything.

Beatrice had missed her period but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It could be a sign but there wasn’t any point in getting too excited yet. She so far hadn’t seen any other type of symptom to prompt her to take the tests she’d purchased.

Her days went as normal. She woke up, took Nikki to daycare, went to work. She texted a little throughout the day with Peter and Tony most days. They liked to check in on her and talking helped them all feel more comfortable.

And she knew they were impatient too for any updates. She couldn’t blame them. But she also couldn’t help when there were no real updates to give.

She made sure to update them on any slight symptoms or signs, anything that could indicate that the pregnancy had taken. But aside from the missing period and slight fatigue there was nothing.

Until she woke up one morning. She did everything as normal; got ready for work, skipped the coffee but managed to get breakfast down….

Then a sudden surge of nausea hit.

It was bad from the start but not enough to cause her to run to the bathroom or anything. She just tried to continue what she was doing and move past it.

But as she moved around to get ready it became apparent that she couldn’t continue.

The toilet seemed to be calling her as her meager breakfast of toast and eggs churned in her stomach.

Before she could really process anything she was draped over the cold porcelain and her stomach was growling again despite still turning at the thought of any more food.

She didn’t want to do anything too early, but she knew her body. This wasn’t just a virus or some mysterious illness.

She had to take those tests.

Once she deemed herself mildly stable again (stomach-wise) she flushed the toilet and stood up, using the counter to steady herself as she brushed her teeth for the second time that morning.

Nikki appeared in the doorway, big eyes blinking up at her mom. She was still outfitted in pajamas and Beatrice realized that she somehow forgot to get the girl up. Great. “Mommy?” She asked softly.

Beatrice rinsed her mouth quickly, spitting before addressing the girl. “Yes, Nik? I’m so sorry I forgot to get you up.”

“Are you sick?” Her daughter asked quietly, seeming concerned.

“Oh, baby. No, I’m- well, I got sick. But I’m not sick, don’t worry. You know how I’m having a baby for those two men I told you about?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, I think maybe the baby is inside me now,” she described gently. She’d been pregnant before since having Nikki but the girl had been too young for them to really talk about it. She was still too young for much, but Beatrice would at least try to explain some of it.

Nikki was silent for a moment before nodding like she understood. “So there’s a baby here?” She poked her mom’s stomach.

“There might be, Nik. I’ve gotta take a test to find out.”

“Will daddy take me to daycare?”

“I think he might, I have to call him, baby.” She hummed softly, tapping a finger to her chin. “How about this, you go turn on a show you want and I’ll call daddy as soon as I’m done. How about that?”

Nikki nodded, going out to the living room without another word.

Beatrice heard the tv turn on a moment later. She listened in to make sure it was something appropriate before closing the bathroom door and grabbing the pregnancy tests from underneath the sink.

She unpackaged them, following every instruction before setting a timer on her phone. Five minutes.

Every second felt too long as she watched the time tick by on the timer. Maybe it would have made more sense to get up and do something productive for the few minutes but she couldn’t tear herself away. So she watched. And waited.

The number ticked down, three, two, one.

She reached out to turn the alarm off and set her phone down before grabbing the two tests. There were butterflies in her stomach at the anticipation of the results but she couldn’t make herself look at both of them at once.

She grabbed the first one and tears welled up in her eyes as she looked in the result window.

Positive.

Of course she grabbed the second one instantly to look at that result as well, but she reached out for her phone as well to call her intended parents. Of course they needed to know that it happened.

The IUI took. She was really pregnant.

She dialed Tony’s number since she knew Peter kept his phone on silent.

He picked up almost instantly which made her laugh a little. But it wouldn’t surprise her if he kept his phone close at all times so he’d see if she called.

“Hey, B. Is there news?” His voice was so hopeful it made her tear up again.

“Yes! Oh, yes, there’s news!” She told him excitedly.

“Peter, come here!” She heard him call out.

Beatrice laughed again, keeping the phone to her ear. “Are both of you here now?”

“Yep,” Peter confirmed. “Tony put you on speaker, so we can both hear you.”

“Perfect, that’s good, that’s so good.”

“So have you started seeing any symptoms yet?” Tony asked, the smile clear in his voice.

“Yes! Well, kind of, I got bad morning sickness when I first woke up and I ended up puking. But then I decided it was time to take the tests!”

She heard Peter gasp softly through the phone and he whispered, “She took the tests, Tones.”

“Well, I took both of them and they were both positive!”

There was dead silence for just a moment before she heard a thump.

“You guys okay?”

“Sorry!” Peter’s voice was muffled but got clearer as he picked the phone back up. “Tony dropped the phone.” He laughed. “But that’s amazing! Oh, I’m so-“

“You’re sure both of them were positive?” Tony’s voice came through. “Completely sure?”

Beatrice grinned, cleaning up the tests before walking out to the living room and sitting next to Nikki on the couch. “I’m one hundred percent sure, Tony. I did it right, waited the right amount of time. They’re positive. I’m pregnant. I’ll go in for bloodwork to confirm it...well, I’ll call to make an appointment today.”

“You’re really pregnant,” Tony whispered. “Wow. Okay, thank you. This was an amazing update, I’m so...I’m so happy.”

“We’re both thrilled,” Peter told her. “Thank you for calling.”

“Of course! I wanted to call you as soon as possible with any updates and obviously this is a big one. I hope you two have a good rest of your day, okay? As always, you can call me with any questions.”

“Thank you, B.” Peter sounded choked up. “You’re an angel. Talk to you later.”

After she hung up, she set the phone down beside her gently.

Her hand slid over her stomach briefly. There was no physical sign yet of the life there but she knew there would be before long.

A smile pulled at her lips as her hand rested there.

“Hey, little one,” she said quietly. “I know you can’t hear me yet. But I’ll keep talking to you anyways.” She chuckled a little at her own silliness before continuing. “Your daddies are already so excited. They’re so happy you’re with us.”

Getting attached so early was a dangerous thing and she knew that. But she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m glad they chose me, little one. I’m very lucky to be helping them. You’re going to make them so happy.”

She sat in the silence, basking in the happiness of it all.

It was the beginning of a wonderful journey that she was lucky to be a part of.

[nelllraiser]

sharks and strippers | group birthday chatzy

LOCATION: a frozen pond in the forest. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup, @divineluce, @beatrice-blaze, @whatsin-yourhead, @connorspiracy, @phoenixleah, @notsoharsh, @corpse--diem, @detectivedreameater, @letsbenditlikebennett, @halequeenjas, @walker-journal, @seizethecarpe, Jack SUMMARY: nell’s birthday party has a surprise guest. 

It was technically still two days until Nell's birthday, but with that actual day of celebration stuck right in the middle of the full moon and during the beginning of the work week, it had made much more sense to have the party today. The three Vural girls had pooled their magic to freeze over the pond they'd found to make a suitable outdoor ice skating rink, and hired someone to rent out skates for those that needed them. Fairy lights were hung around the perimeter of the new ice rink, and not all that far away was a bonfire pit already stacked with wood and marshmallows for s'mores nestled into the surrounding snow. Somewhere nearby was a speaker to play some music to skate along to, but perhaps most important was the little tent and table where guests could find an assortment of alcohol. Whoever said intoxication didn't mix well with ice skating hadn't watched their friends hilariously fall on their asses countless times. The spicy aroma of mulled wine and hot toddy filled the air along with irish coffee. In addition to the winter drink staples there were also the typical options for the more traditional. As she waited for others to arrive, Nell paced by the edge of the rink, realizing perhaps a bit too late that a magical invitation might not be all that intuitive for everyone receiving it. "You don't think they'll get lost, right? I mean- if you saw a golden trail come from an invitation you'd follow it, wouldn't you?" she asked.

Kaden wasn’t really up for a party, but this was for Nell. And the invitation was from Bea. So he’d make a brief appearance. Plus, it was a decent distraction. Might as well. And he knew it would be a sight to see. He ripped the invitation, followed the golden light and ended up in the middle of the woods. Of course they made it a magical invite. It took a while to get there, but none of it felt like the middle of the woods. It was decorated to the nines, as expected. He dropped his present off at the table that looked like it was meant for that sort of thing and saw the set up for alcohol. His first stop. Easily.

Luce leaned against one of the tables that had been set up, her hands tucked in the pockets of her jeans as she stared at the ice skating rink she and her sisters had put together. The effort had taken more out of her than she'd thought it would and, right now? She just wanted to sit down. She didn't even really want to be here. But, after all the shit she'd put Nell through, she had to be here. It wouldn't be fair to Nell if she wasn't here at least pretending like she was enjoying the party. Wandering over to the drink station, she made herself an Irish coffee and took a sip from it. Fuck that was good. They might not have access to the family bank account anymore, but they could still throw a good party. "We're witches. They'll figure it out." Luce said with a shake of her head. "Happy Birthday, Nellie." She added, doing her best to smile in a way that she hoped was convincing.

"I think you're overthinking things," Bea told her sister with an amused smile. "If they don't find it with that, they'll hear the people eventually. Or they can just call one of us. They have my phone number." She went over to the tent with the alcohol,"What do you guys want? I'm getting an Irish coffee." She would be skating drunk later and no one would be able to convince her not to.

The invitation was a little strange. Remmy had fiddled with it for a while before realizing that it was asking them to literally rip the piece of paper in half. As soon as they put that together, they realized that was definitely a very Nell thing to do. Or maybe it was just witches that would do stuff like this. They wondered if Morgan had ever done a fancy invitation thing like this, as they followed the trail through the trees and came upon a lake, frosted over. Nell was there, and they spotted Bea and Luce as well, waving over to them and giving a slow trot over. "Hey! Happy birthday Nell!" they said, trying their hardest to stay bright and happy. They didn't need to think about other stuff right now. Held out the card they'd made her. "Sorry it's not much."

Connor had been happy to receive the invitation to Nell's birthday, but that had led to his tiny dilemma of what to get as a gift. He'd asked Bea for some ideas and brainstormed based on what he knew about her. She seemed the sort of person who would just get whatever she wanted regardless. Ultimately he'd decided on a punny t-shirt that had a cactus on the front with 'Don't Be A Prick' written under it and a six month cactus subscription service so Nell could try out a bunch of different types. He wrapped up warm, like Bea had suggested, following the trail to the party. He put the gift on the gift table, looking around for someone he knew before heading to the bar where he ordered a simple beer. "Hey," he greeted, recognizing Kaden, and recognizing Bea's photo from her online account.

As the invitation led Leah to Nell's party, Leah couldn't help but feel equal parts excited and anxious. It was always a blast to celebrate with the Vurals, but the rumors that they were going to be ice skating had her worried about exposure. She wasn't cold at all, but she was still wearing her heaviest coat, gloves, and a hat. She made her way right to the alcohol tent, knowing full well that's where Bea would be. "Surprise me", she said with a grin, still holding Nell's present under her arm. "Where's the birthday girl?"

As people began to filter towards the party, it seemed that Luce's and Bea's words had come true. With an instantaneous wave at those arriving, Nell greeted everyone with a wide and eager smile, just happy that people had showed up. "Hi guys! Thanks," she said to everyone that greeted her, already bouncing towards the bar where people were seeming to gather. "I'm glad you guys are getting your alcohol before you get on the ice. Then it can be my gift to watch all of you fall." In a moment she was grabbing her own drink in the form of a hot toddy, having already asked for it before the festivities began.

Harsh lurked in the shade, waiting for the sun to dip just a bit more. At least it was getting dark earlier and earlier now. He wouldn't have to wait too much longer to grace Nell's party with his presence. He ripped open the invitation, blinking at the sudden spill of golden light. Witches, they always had the best toys. He followed it, careful to still stick to shady patches where he could find them, just in case the setting sun had it out for him. It didn't take too long to wander his way to the end of the golden path. He dropped his small, neatly wrapped present off with the others before glancing around, grinning when he spotted Nell. He lifted a hand in a little wave before heading over to inspect the booze.

Kaden gave Connor a small wave as he ordered a hot toddy. "I see you all went all out," he said to the sisters. "I expected nothing less." He recognized a number of familiar faces and expected more would file in as the night went on. "Have to say, I'm worried about the ice skating. Did you bring magical first aid kits out here, too? You might need them."

“There’s no location,” Erin pointed out as she inspected the invitation. Keys in hand, jacket on, present in tow, she was ready to head out the door when she realized this one crucial piece of information. How did she miss that when she’d originally received it or when she had made the initial RSVP with Bea? She started out the door anyway, pulling her phone out, hovering over the older Vural sister’s phone number again. “Are you ready to go?” She called back to Marley, narrowing her eyes, scanning the invitation for the fiftieth time. With all the heaviness surrounding them lately, Erin had actually been looking forward to this. She dialed the number and shrugged at Marley as she waited. “I think there’s a typo or something. I'm calling Bea now,” she said, holding it out to her.

Marley picked up the invitation handed to her and read it over once, before rolling her eyes and looking up at Erin. "It literally says right here to rip it in half," she answered, not waiting for Erin to say anything before taking the paper and ripping it straight in half. She handed the two pieces back to Erin before pulling on her jacket. "There better be alcohol at this party," she mumbled, "I don't do parties without alcohol."

Connor smiled over at Nell. "Darling, people are going to be falling arse over tit by the time this is over. If watching people fall is your idea of a good time, you're gonna have a hell of a birthday." He spotted Leah, giving her a grin. "Hey, thanks for the book help the other day." He glanced around. People were still trickling in. "I hardly know anyone here. Some of Nell's friends are kinda old."

Bea grinned at Kaden as her phone rang. "Hello, this is Bea, if this is about the party rip the invitation in half. It'll guide you to us. Bring a jacket too!!" She answered chriply.

Ariana had followed the little lights from the invitation with a fascinated look on her face. While magic was over her head, she found it to be too cool all the same. The little glowing lights led her up to an outdoor ice skating area. She could hear the chatter before she approached and smiled when she saw some familiar faces. She waved in Nell and Connor's direction and brightly greeted, "Happy birthday! Hope you don't mind- I dropped your gift off by your house because it would have been a pain in the ass to carry home. You'll see what I mean."

There were too many people by the alcohol. And, when Luce's choice of who to talk with were between Remmy, Kaden, Leah, some random white boy who was calling people old? Christ. No fucking thanks. Slipping away from the crowd of people, she took her steaming cup of Irish coffee and made her way over to the fire that was roaring off to the side. She didn't care much about the heat or the smores, she was just glad to be out of the fucking away. She'd hang around and make sure the fire was going. She'd do her part to make this a nice birthday for her sister. Glancing across the fire, she pointed at the sticks that were left for people to stab marshmallows on. "If you want smores, go nuts."

Nell waved over at Harsh as he greeted her, hoping the sun would set a little faster so that he'd be able to join the festivities a bit more freely. Nevertheless, she waved him over to the bar where everyone was. Laughing a little she quickly said to Connor, "Why do you think I specifically chose an ice rink? Watching my friends make fools of themselves is my dream." Then she was grinning at Ariana, waving yet again with vigor. "It's that big?" Nell chuckled curiously. "So are you gonna skate with me?"

Connor raised an eyebrow at Ari's mention of her gift. "Bruv, what do you mean? Too big? What'd you get her? A life-size sculpture of Greg the dog?" he asked with a chuckle. He lifted his beer in a small toast. "Happy birthday to Nell, happy party-day to everyone else. I'm Connor, by the way."

Jasmine decided she maybe should have worn more practical heels for this little follow the light to Nell's birthday venture. Normally, she was all about the whole being extra thing, but today, her feet were not particularly feeling it. For Nell, it was all worth it. She'd had a gift in hand that she set down on the table as she approached. She gravitated toward Bea and huffed, "Leave it to you to go all out down to the invitation, Beatrice." She scanned the crowd and waved at a few familiar faces.

Ariana tried to muster her most serious face as she answered Connor's joke. "Obviously. What else would I have made Nell for her birthday?" At Nell's mention of skating, she lit up. Given most of her skating past had included playing hockey, but skating just for skating's sake was always fun too. "You don't have to ask me twice. I love ice skating."

Harsh glanced around, finding a few familiar faces. Huh, it really was a small world. Or a small town, whatever. He followed Nell's wave, casually keeping himself out of the sun. There were enough shadowed spots that it shouldn't be too obvious. "Thanks for the invite, it's pretty cool out here." Trying to catch Kaden's eye, he gave him a little nod. "Hey man, didn't know you were gonna be here. I really need to get out more, I can't remember the last time I went to an actual party."

Remmy,confused, watched Luce slink away and over to the fire pit. They furrowed their brow, but chose to ignore it for now, and smiled at Nell. Moose was already rolling around in the snow, happy as ever. The one person Remmy didn't recognize yet introduced himself as was Connor and they waved. "I'm Remmy," they said, nodding, "and I think I'm gonna try skating!" They backed away and headed over to the table full of skates to rent and picked out their size. They plopped down, put on their boots, and stood up. They hadn't been skating in ages, but how hard could it be? They gave a pointed glance towards Luce at the fire pit before stepping out onto the ice, watching Moose tentatively test it out before deciding to sit happily in the snow at the edge.

"I do have some magical first aid kits, just so you know. I'm prepared for a few scraps," Bea told Kaden. She looked over at Jasmine with a shrug,"You remember how her birthdays were as a kid. She deserves all out." Bea and her friends had always been the few people who came to Nell's birthday parties when she was young. Her classmates, and even the kids in the coven, had avoided Nell. Her sisters had to give Nell a good birthday, especially after how this year has gone for them.

Connor nodded, giving Remmy a smile. "Nice to meet you, mate. Once I've finished this beer, I might grab a pair of skates myself. Hopefully still got enough of my ballet co-ordination to not make an absolute dick of myself." He edged a little closer to Nell, lowering his voice. "How do you know the old people?"

Erins’ mouth gaped as she literally tore the invitation. “What are you--” Almost at the same time, Bea answered and confirmed her question before she could even say anything. Lights appeared out of thin air. “Oh. Thanks. See you soon.” Of course. Magic. That was pretty cool actually. She hung up and led the way. “We’re going to a 24 year old’s birthday party. If there’s not alcohol, I’m leaving,” she joked. Kind of. But if she thought the lights were cool, the frozen pond that definitely shouldn’t be frozen in this weather was just as cool. She moved towards the first familiar face she saw, surprised to see her realtor with Bea, as well as a few others that were less pleasant surprises. “Oh, great,” she mumbled to Marley when she saw Kaden, waving towards Bea and Jasmine. “Please tell me you see the alcohol.”

Ariana snickered to herself as she heard Connor whisper about the old people.

Leah R Sipped her sangria, eyeing the rink cautiously as she walked closer to Bea, Kaden, and Jasmine. "How good are those first aid kits at healing broken bones?" she teased playfully. There was no way she would be out there skating today, but it would be fun to watch her friends tumble over each other. She glanced at Kaden, giving him a short, tight smile, before she looked back to her friends. "That stripper dude that came to your birthday isn't coming, is he? I think it's probably too cold for a stripper."

Luce wasn't surprised by the way Remmy looked at her and she let out a sigh. This wasn't the time or place for drama. Taking another large drink from her cup, Luce looked at the fire and nudged it with magic. The flames turned a slight blue color as she helped it burn a little higher. Glancing over the firepit, she watched as Jasmine, Erin, Marley, and a few other stragglers made their way into the party. What the fuck kind of shoes was Jas wearing?

It took a quick moment to lace up her skates, and in another second Nell was making her way to the ice with her drink still in hand, beckoning the others along. Nell's snicker was quick to join Ariana's before she said, "You know old people need attention, too. If you don't pay attention to them that's how they get wrinkles." Her tone was purposefully loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear."

"I sure do," Marley answered, because she'd scouted out the bar table the second she'd gotten there. There were a few familiar faces around, including Langley, of course, but she really didn't care. She didn't exactly want to be here in the first place, but Erin had bullied her into going, and she did kind of like the littlest Vural. Even if she was annoying. Mostly. She split away from Erin and headed towards the bar table, not waiting for her, sunglasses snug on her face. The sun was bright and it was making her head hurt to look at, and this place had just the cure. "Mexican coffee," she said, pointing at the tequila and then the big pot of coffee. "Put a little extra love in it, too."

Jack hadn't expected to be invited back to an event by a Vural after the last time, and definitely not socially rather than as a performer. As he eyed the ice and his breath curling in the cool air, he was kind of glad of that though. He couldn't quite show off his incredible abs and biceps to the crowd in his coat, but there was no amount of clothing that could hide his immaculate silhouette. He slid over to the bar with a casual grace. "Hey Bea, how are you doing?"

Jasmine nodded as she remembered Nell's birthday parties when they were kids. She never quite understood why other kids didn't show up but she was glad Nell got to have something this special now. Even if she did have to walk out here in heels. Skates would actually be a nice change of pace. "Point taken. Next time just warn a girl and she'll wear chunkier heels." She nudged Bea's arm jokingly and gave Kaden a wave. She was just going to gloss over the fact she thought he was a stripper up until a couple of weeks ago. She smiled brightly as Erin approached and said, "You could not be more right, Erin. I need a glass of wine."

Kaden gave Harsh a nod back. "Yeah, I've been friends with Bea for a while now. Nell's had to put up with me at enough dinners over at their house. Guess that earned me an invite." In truth, he cared about Nell, too, but admitting that was different. "How do you know the Vurals?" He blinked in confusion as he saw the stripper from the last party walk in. It was... outdoors. And cold. There was no way they were going to be subjected to this again. At least no one was asking him to strip. Again. For now. Putain. "I think I'm going to need more alcohol for this."

Connor snickered, lightly elbowing Nell. "Oh, better make sure you give them all the attention then. Especially that truck-sized man over there." He could see the sheer size of the man's muscles even beneath the layers of clothing. "Is that Remmy person cool? I'm trying to decide how long is socially acceptable to wait before I ask to pet their dog."

"Not good at all," Bea replied. She wished she could drag her friend out there, but the risk of her breaking wouldn't be worth it. "You could hang out of the edge of the pond? We could try to skate around there if you wanted." She let out a soft laugh as Leah spoke,"I invited him actually. He's sweet and here he comes now!" She grinned at Jack,"Hi! I'm great, so glad you can come! How are you?" She looked over to Jas quickly,"Try the mulled wine! Jack, do you want something to drink?"

Harsh couldn't bite back a laugh. "Wait, you had a stripper at your party? Okay, I clearly need to party with you more often." He turned his smile toward Leah. "Hey, don't think we've met, I'm Harsh." Looking back toward Kaden, he shrugged. "Nell and I hang out sometimes, I haven't spent too much time with the others though. I guess now's a good time to change that."

Jasmine laughed al Nell spoke more loudly. "Yeah, if you don't believe in the old people. They just wither and wrinkle away." She shot a glance over in the area Kaden, Erin, and Bea were standing. She shrugged and looked over to Remmy and asked, "Hey, do you mind if we pet your dog?"

Ariana laughed al Nell spoke more loudly. "Yeah, if you don't believe in the old people. They just wither and wrinkle away." She shot a glance over in the area Kaden, Erin, and Bea were standing. She shrugged and looked over to Remmy and asked, "Hey, do you mind if we pet your dog?"

"Oh hey!" Nell exclaimed as she spotted the enormous man seemingly appear out of thin air which was...quite a feat for someone so large. "Have you met, Kaden?" she asked, pointing towards the man in question. "I think he's actually looking into the stripping business if you have any tips for him," she said in a hushed tone to Jack. Then she turned back to Connor. "Yeah, Remmy is great! And if Moose isn't working I'm sure they'd be fine if you asked to pet him. He's a good boy." Then she turned to Ariana, trying to tug her friend towards the ice with her.

Leah shrugged, not at all put off by not being able to participate in the more physical activities that her friends enjoyed. She was used to it, honestly. "I'll just hang onto the side if I get the urge", she teased, right before her eyes went wide at Bea's next words. "You, invited him? Are you buds with an immaculately sculpted stripper now?" Leah felt heat rise to her face at the idea of it, remembering how forward the man had been at Bea's party. A stranger's introduction was the perfect excuse to calm herself down from the embarrassment. "I'm Leah,” she said with a smile, shaking his hand. She wondered if her body heat crept through her gloves. "I'm good friends with Nell's sister, haven't missed one of her birthday parties yet." She smiled as she looked around at the other members of the party, most of whom she'd met at least once before. "Everyone here is pretty cool, mostly anywhere. There are a few stragglers", she said, her gaze falling to Kaden.

Connor nodded a hello to the other person close-by that he didn't know, who had introduced himself as Harsh. Ariana, in true form, wasn't shy about asking about the gigantic Leonberger. "Well, I don't see a vest on him, so I guess it's okay to ask." People were heading towards the ice, so he decided to go and rent some skates too.

A long, elongated shadow moved under parts of the ice, bumping against the ice occasionally.

Bea pointed at the ice and laughed, "Look, a shark."

“You and me both,” Erin grinned at Jasmine. “I didn’t know the whole town knew the Vurals.” She wasn’t surprised to see Marley already ordering something for herself and followed suit to the table and ordered a glass for herself. “I thought this was supposed to be a kid’s party?” She joked, watching the crowd. Not that she was complaining. She leaned closer to Jasmine, smirking, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “Also, did I overhear someone say there’s a stripper?”

Luce tossed a fresh couple of logs onto the fire and brushed the bits of bark off her hand. Walking away, she made her way back towards the ice, moving past Leah, Jasmine, and Bea. Raising an eyebrow at Leah's words and pointed glance at Kaden, she raised her eyebrows. As she neared the edge of the ice, Luce frowned. There was a dark shadow under the ice-- what? What the fuck was that? Looking over at her sister, Luce rolled her eyes. "It's probably just a piece of driftwood." She said, though she kept her eyes focused on the strange shape.

Connor turned his head at the mention of the word 'shark', furrowing his brow. "Oh, nah, not more White Crest bullshit. It's a birthday party, bro."

Nell saw the shadow moving beneath, and for a quick second wondered whether Ma'al's tentacley ass had decided to make an appearance. Was that cult appropriate? "Maybe it's Squidward," she chuckled, remembering the demon who had lived in the lake.

Jasmine tilted her head and gave Leah a questioning look as he gaze implied Kaden wasn't cool. She barely refrained from asking about it in the moment. Instead, she smiled brightly at Jack. "It's nice to have you here as a guest." Though she did slightly prefer his stripping attire. "Mulled wine it is." She agreed with Erin and said, "They really do, but it's good to see a familiar face. How do you know the Vurals?" She laughed at the mention of there being alcohol and a stripper at a kids' party.

Remmy stopped in the middle of the rink at the mention of 'shark' and glanced around their feet. They noticed the shadow swimming around under them then over to the edge. "Is that, like-- possible? Is he okay? Do you think he's scared?" they asked, skating over to the edge back near Moose and trying to scrape away some ice with the pick of their skate. "Should we do something!?" they asked worriedly.

Kaden rolled his eyes at Leah's pointed comment towards him. What he did to piss her off other than existing, he didn't fucking know. At least he knew why Marley and Erin disliked him. That was good and earned. His brow furrowed at the mention of a fucking shark in the pond. "Only in goddamn White Crest. What is it?" he asked as he approached the ice, drink still in hand but reaching for his knife, just in case.

Bea laughed,"Are you shocked that I became friends with him? He was fun at the birthday party and I love having connections with performers." She kept her eye on the shadow, "Luce's right, it's driftwood, but I'm also right and it's a shark. Driftwood shark. Sharkwood?"

Luce glanced over at Remmy, blinking at their question. "I really don't think that it's a shark. Bea's joking. Or hitting the irish coffee too hard." As Kaden walked up, hand going to the knife on his belt, Luce scowled at him. "Stand down, Ranger Rick. It's nothing. We would have noticed if there was a damn shark in the pond." Right? They would have noticed, right?

Connor hadn't even got to the skate rental booth. He'd turned to watch what was happening with the shark. He doubted it was spiritual in nature, so an exorcist wouldn't do any good. Instead, he stood at the edge of the pond, a little ways back. "Of course Kaden's got his knife." He wasn't complaining when the guy had helped with his Snicker Snacker problem, but at a birthday party? Only in White Crest.

With everyone distracted, maybe Marley could just slip away and go home. Erin seemed to be having fun with her actual friends, anyway. The woman she was with was one Marley recognized from somewhere. Like...a post sign or an ad for something. Marley squinted at her, luckily her gaze hidden behind her glasses, but she wasn't exactly being subtle about it. She sipped her coffee and plodded a little further away, sitting near the fire pit but away from most of the others gathered around it. Where the _fuck_ did she know that woman's face from?

Nell took note of her own knives that were nearly always on her person, not pulling one out but all too willing to take a tease at Kaden despite the hypocrisy of it. "It's the only way he knows how to make friends." It was...actually somewhat true considering all the people he'd to mistakenly hunt and then befriended.

Harsh returned Leah's handshake, more than a little grateful that her gloves probably hid the fact that he was a little colder than he should have been. "Nice to meet you. If they throw a lot of parties like this, I've got to get myself invited to more." The word 'shark floating around turned Harsh's head, his brow furrowing. Well, it probably wouldn't be a White Crest party without some kind of insane nonsense. He casually sauntered a little closer to the ice, trying to catch a glimpse of the supposed shark. "Well, if it's not hurting anyone, or itself, maybe we should leave it be for a bit."

Ariana looked down at the ice and tried to decipher what was underneath it. "Doesn't look like a shark." She peered over the ice as she tried to get a better look before shrugging and deciding to skate anyway. "Come on," she motioned for Nell and Connor to join her while also laughing at the joke's at Kaden's expense.

Leah shook her head with a laugh, grinning. "Listen, I don't know why anything shocks me anymore. As long as you think he's cool and he won't give me a lap dance, I don't mind getting to know him." She tilted her head as the attention turned to a figure under the ice. "A pond shark? It's pretty unlikely". It was more likely a Selkie or a mermaid, here in White Crest. She hoped whoever froze over the pond checked for anyone alive underneath, first. She nodded at Harsh's comment. "Yes, let's let it Bea. It's probably just, uh... saying hello!"

The shadow swam another lap of the pond at unbelievable speeds, banging its tail against the ice where the crowd was.

Remmy shrugged, then, looking at Luce and then everyone else who just didn't seem to care about what was under the ice. Whatever it was, it probably was okay under there. Still a tad nervous, Remmy stood back up and skated backwards, slowly, away from Luce and towards the middle again. "Should we at least give it a little place to get out?"

Erin should have been better prepared for that question. Any which way, her connection with the Vural’s was wildly illegal. “Oh, just family friends,” she shrugged, taking a hearty sip of the mulled wine. And then another when there was sudden talk about a shark in the pond. “Sharks and strippers. Why does this feel appropriate for a Vural party?” Maybe she should have been more worried about whatever was floating down there but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than drink again. Erin glanced over at Marley and narrowed her eyes. “Are you…good?”

Connor wandered over to Jasmine, almost like a child returning to a mother's side during a time of crisis. "Hey, do they have pond sharks in White Crest?"

Jasmine vaguely noticed one of the women staring at her. It wasn't entirely uncommon, her outfit did look great. She decided to stay at the table with the alcohol at the mention of a shark in the pond. It wasn't surprising to see Harsh check it out more closely. Ever the hunter that one was. She stayed close to Bea as she had no need to see what animal was in the pond. "I don't know what it is, but I think I'll let someone else figure it out." Not a ghost, not her problem was her mentality for today. Especially with a hunter present. She still felt eyes on her so she opted to smile and wave.

Luce jumped back as the shadow moved under the ice and began to smack against the ice. "Fuck!" She swore, startled by the sudden movement and noise. Glancing over at Leah and the random dude next to her, Luce glanced around at the people who were gathered. Pond shark, or whatever the fuck it was, didn't wanna be in there. At Remmy's words, she nodded. "Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Outta the way, people." She said before raising a hand. A small flickering blue flame appeared on the ice and began to melt through. As a hole began to form, Luce snuffed out the magic and then drove the heel of her Doc Marten into the weakened section of ice. Kicking at the ice, she broke open a small area of water and looked down at it. "Uh... shark? You there?" She asked, feeling real fucking stupid as she did.

Harsh grimaced. Alright, that probably wasn't normal. Pond sharks were one thing, but aggressive, turbo, pond sharks were probably worse. He glanced around. "Alright, maybe it's time to get off the ice." He drew a little closer, watching as Luce took charge. "We should give it some space. If it's confused, it might bite anything it gets close to."

Bea watched as she sipped her coffee. It was mainly whiskey, but she was happy with it nonetheless. Pond sharks were exciting and people seemed to be intrigued by it. "I gotta thank whoever put the shark in the pond, this is fun," She wondered if Luce did it as a surprise like Nell had hired Jack for her party.

Jasmine nodded. "Family friends, good stuff." She gave Bea a smile and explained, "I've known this lovely lady since kindergarten." Her attention turned to Connor as he approached and she gave him a pat on the shoulder, "I know the lake used to have a squid. Don't know about pond sharks."

Connor was too stupid to be scared of whatever was in the pond, and instead opted for excitedly intrigued. He sensed he was about to watch one of the Vural sisters do some magic and was thrilled at the prospect. "I love that."

"Wait, I wanna see what it is!" Nell told Ariana as she tried to skate away. "Maybe he just wants a drink..." she mused before tipping a bit of her drink onto the ice as if she were making an offering. "Here you go, Shark-Boy."

Jasmine pouted and scooted up towards the edge of the ice. "It's probably just a fish!" Maybe not in White Crest, but she wanted to skate. "Oh my god," she laughed as Nell poured out a drink on the ice. "You're really giving a whole new meaning to pouring one out for the homies."

Marley felt like her name was right on the tip of her tongue, the mystery lady at the table, but she couldn't figure it out. Grumpily, she sipped more of her coffee, finishing it off before standing up and heading over for another. While she waited, she looked at Erin, then to her companion. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?" she asked, rubbing her eyes briefly before glancing sideways at Erin. "Peachy keen," she said with a grimace, "I've got coffee and alcohol, what more could a girl want?"

Ariana pouted and scooted up towards the edge of the ice. "It's probably just a fish!" Maybe not in White Crest, but she wanted to skate. "Oh my god," she laughed as Nell poured out a drink on the ice. "You're really giving a whole new meaning to pouring one out for the homies."

Jasmine tilted her head and tried to gather if she recognized the other woman. "I don't think we've met, but I'm Jasmine. You've probably seen some of my advertisements around town." She raised her glass towards the woman and said, "Good to meet you."

Bea inched closer to the crowd, she wanted to see the shark. "Do sharks like coffee?"

Luce scowled as Nell leaned over and poured her drink into the ice. "Don't do that. You might... drown it? Can coffee drown sharks? Or is that poisoning?" She asked, looking around for anyone who might have more than a high school freshman biology background.

Adam busted in late pretty sure his ass was grass for getting 'delayed'. However when it turned out that the lady of the hour was peering as some shark circling beneath the ice, siblings and dumbasses in tow, Adam promptly decided to take a swig of birthday wine earlier

Connor couldn't hear all the conversation that was going on surrounding the shark, but he'd decided to forgo getting his skates for the time being. He put his empty bottle in the recycling and ordered another drink. "Well, whatever it is, Kaden is about to go all Crocodile Dundee on it's arse, so I'm not worried about it.”

Leah glanced toward Bea as she inched closer to the pond, pressing her lips together. "I don't think they do... but are we sure that's even a shark?", she wondered aloud. She sipped from her sangria again, she was far too sober for this.

Remmy skated over a little closer to the hole Luce had made and watched with the others, wondering what might come out of the hole. "It-- I...don't think sharks can drown, Luce," they said, a little confused. Could they? "Don't they like...breath water? They've got gills and stuff..." They looked over at Luce and Ariana, pouring stuff onto the ice and into the hole for him. "Maybe we're scaring him by all standing around. SHould we give him some space?"

"It's a shark for sure, I have a degree in this," Bea told Leah seriously, though they both knew that was a lie. "Do you think the shark can get caffeinated?" Seeing Adam, she waved,"Adam! There's a shark here!"

Jasmine took a sip of her mulled wine and looked towards Kaden. Crocodile Dundee? She trusted Harsh to handle it more if it was really needed. "Right, well, he can have fun with that then. I'll be over here enjoying my wine away from the wild life."

Adam threw up his hands and said. "People told me NOT to bring my guns to a party! What the Hell!"

Jasmine shook her head at Nell's gun nut boyfriend.

Connor had watched Adam stroll in. He hoped the guy had brought Nell a bloody good present for turning up late. She didn't seem too upset about it though. "That's Adam. He's just... special."

“Oh, I remember the squid,” Erin shook her head. Boy howdy did she ever. “Jasmine’s the one who got me set up in my apartment, actually,” she added, glancing at Marley, though it was hard to keep her attention off of the group circling the hole in the lake. Leaning against the bar, she ordered another drink. “They look like they’ve definitely got it under control.”

Luce raised an eyebrow at Adam's outburst before returning to the hole. There wasn't anything going on at the moment, but that didn't mean it wasn't gonna pop out of the ice and try and eat them or something. Poking at the water with her boot, Luce looked at Remmy. "Shark's got stage fright? I mean, I've heard weirder shit, so you might be onto something there." She said before shuffling back a bit.

One minute, Dave had been scouting out whether there was any Gryndylow in this tiny pond, beating the pond bottom with his fin to disturb whatever was down there and get a feel for it. The next, he was resurfacing and had banged his head against a lid of ice. No way in hell had it been anywhere near cold enough to freeze over the entire pond in the ten minutes he'd been down there. But it had. Dave had swum around and around, looking for any gap, and had bounced his body against it to try and break the ice until he had a headache. It was only then that he began to worry, the oxygen in his arteries slowly running out. When he'd noticed shadows moving over the ice, he'd tried to get their attention, banging on the ice. Suddenly part of the water warmed up, and he felt the ice crack through his whiskers. Dave swam up quickly, poking his heavily scarred snout out of the water to breath deeply. Imminent threat of death solved, he now had to address the seal in the room: that there shouldn't have been a seal in this pond, and that there definitely shouldn't have been a loose leopard seal on this side of the equator.

As soon as the seal's head broke the ice, a look of slight disappointment came over Nell's face. "Oh. It's a seal." A shark would have been cooler.

"Oh, yes! Right! That's where I've seen your face! On the bench outside the precinct! You're the realtor gal, Jasmine Hale," Marley said, excited suddenly, that something, finally something could come to mind without hours of sitting and thinking about it. She sighed with audible relief and grabbed her next drink, sliding up next to Erin, suddenly much less moody than before. She leaned against Erin as she held her hand out to Jasmine. "Marley Stryder. Nice to meet you. For real. You're like half a celebrity in this town, considering your face is everywhere."

Adam looked at Bea with a scowl that betrayed just a hint of disappointment that a deadly predator hadn't shown up at a social occasion. "It’s a fuckin seal.”

It struck Connor that he'd been the first to ask how Nell knew all these old people, but now he was the one hanging out with them all while the rest of them were skating. "Jas and I only met after I'd found my beach house, but she's pretty good at her job. I bet your place is sick." He turned his head at the commotion as the shark - which actually now revealed itself to be some type of giant seal - emerged from the icy water. "Don't stab it! Or shoot it!" He called, stepping closer to the ice. "Just... I dunno, let it wobble off or something."

"Well, it looked like a shark!!" Bea isn't sure why anyone believed her, but it was nice to know her influence. "Do seals like coffee? Or whiskey?"

Ariana stopped skating as she saw a seal emerge from a hole in the pond. A seal. In a pond. Was it Ricky or Skylar? She'd never actually seen them as seals before so she skated closer to the opening. She eyed Adam and Kaden to see what their reaction would be. "See, it's just a seal. No reason to not skate."

Kaden was waiting for a monster of some sort to pop out from the hole in the ice. It was absolutely the sort of thing that would happen in White Crest. When he saw a seal, a leopard seal at that, all he could say was "putain de merde." There was no reason a seal like that could be in a pond unless it was a selkie. He really should stab it. He would have a year ago. But for now, he sighed and put the knife away. "Leave the seal alone."

Harsh glanced at the weirdo yelling about guns. "Yeah, I still don't think shooting it is the best idea. But I think we should all give it some space, like they said," he noted, nodding at Remmy. His eyes went wide as a seal poked its head up out of the ice. Well, that was new. He moved closer carefully, kneeling near the open hole. "I think it's alright, but uh, I wouldn't give it any alcohol."

Luce swore as the ice was broken and a big fucking animal poked its head out of the water and huffed. "What the fuck is that thing doing in our pond?" She asked. Looking over at Nell, she realized her sister was right. It was a seal. And now Adam had figured it was a seal. Okay, apparently everyone was a fucking zoologist or whatever. "Yeah, what the pasty british kid said. No one attacked it. Just stay away from the hole and let it have room to breathe or whatever."

A seal? Wait-- it wasn't-- Remmy blinked and focused on them. No, not Skylar. Sighing with relief, they skated back over, still keeping a distance. "Umm, are you okay mister seal? Or um-- misses seal? I can't-- I don't know seal genders..." they looked over at everyone else, up to Luce, shrugging. "Maybe they got stuck? Do you need help? I think there's a river close by..." But no one else seemed to be moving to try and help the surprised looking seal. "Should we help them?"

Leah laughed at Bea, shaking her head. It was definitely not a shark, then. But a seal, which meant it was a selkie, which meant they probably needed some room to breath. "Maybe we should leave it alone", she said, agreeing with Kaden for once. She was surprised that he wasn't attacking it, didn't hunters hate selkies, too?

"Big seal," Bea observed. "I'm kind of disappointed that it wasn't a shark, but a seal is cool too." She considered her little sister's friends for a moment, before speaking to the crowd,"Don't try to pet the seal too."

Adam disappeared off to the greenhouse for a time and returned with some plywood planks. Merrily slide-swearing his way out to the pond, Adam proceeded to cover the hole so people didn't plunge in.

If Dave had been able to hear the reaction and thoughts of everyone there, he would have been offended. As Immo's most murderous character, he was definitely more dangerous than the average shark.

Connor couldn't even be upset at the pasty British kid comment, considering it was true. "Yeah, see?" He swallowed another mouthful of beer, deciding he was actually going to get his skates now. He joined the others on the ice within a few moments, but not too close to the seal-hole. "Come on, mate. Weirder shit happens in this town than pond sharks and pond seals. As long as it isn't eating anyone, it's fine." He looked over at Adam, who'd returned with some planks. "Dude, I know you're a football player or whatever, but you know seals need to breathe, right?"

As the wood covered the hole, Nell tried to pour a little more of the hot toddy through the planks of it, figuring the seal should also have a good time. "It's okay- maybe he just wants a drink."

Adam peered down at the seal whose hole he was boarding up, give him a long "Dude we gonna do this or naw?" stare.

Luce shrugged at Remmy's suggestion, shaking her head as she stared at the seal that still had its head poking out the hole. "I'm not about to try and get that thing outta here, I'd get my hand bitten off if I tried to help it out." Watching as Nell moved to pour more alcohol on the animal, Luce grabbed her sister's arm. "C'mon, don't fuck with the wildlife." She chided. "How'd you like it if someone dumped a hot toddy on your head after you got out of bed or whatever?"

Dave carefully considered his options, breathing deeply. They'd forget this, right? Regular humans would talk about the weird fish they'd seen. Just as he'd gotten enough air for half an hour, that fucking kid he'd met in the underwater cave that one time began boarding him up. I damn well saved your neck back then he thought aggressively at Adam, slowly slinking back into the water. As a hot liquid was poured on him, he jerked back in clear discomfort, diving back under the water. He'd have to wait until they fucked off before leaving.

Erin raised a skeptic eyebrow at Marley, her mood suddenly brightening. Didn’t have time to question it as the creature was revealed to be a seal. “Aw, a seal?” Wait, a seal? Her first thought went to Skylar. She doubted it was her but she started gravitating a little closer. “Jesus Christ, Nell, stop pouring alcohol on the seal!” She yelled.

"Aww, oh no," Nell said as the seal obviously didn't like her offer of a drink, not having meant to pour it on the seal. "Sorry!" she called down into the hole even after the seal had disappeared. "I can get something colder if you want?"

Adam murmured "Hey uh Nell....did you like...brain-warp this seal in here..or?"

Remmy frowned, a bit sadly, as Adam started boarding up the hole the seal was in. What if it was a selkie, like Skylar and Ricky? What if they were worried or scared? But they didn't have too much time to contemplate this, as the seal recoiled and dove back under. "Ahh, wait-- oh," they sighed, "bye seal." Waved at them before standing up again and looking down at Luce. "Are you gonna sulk by the fire pit the whole time, or?" they asked, raising a brow. "Don't tell me you don't know how to skate."

Nell considered the question for a long-moment in her inebriated state, wondering if she had actually Summoned the seal here. "...maybe? I don't think so. No- if it was me it would have been a shark. A shark would have been cooler," she lamented once again.

Kaden shouted out at Nell, "What did I say? Leave the sel-- seal. Leave the seal alone." He grumbled and went to refill his drink. He was going to need a lot more to deal with this.

Harsh rose as the gun weirdo moved to board up the hole. Well, crisis apparently averted then. He so needed a drink. Hands in his pockets, he wandered back over to the drinks table to grab something strong.

Adam gave Nell a helpless 'babe your crazy is hot but it scares me' grin and stood up to awkwardly scoot his way over to actually get some skates

Ariana kept skating around the ice and her features brightened up as she saw Adam grabbing skates. "Finally."

Bea looked over at the older crowd around her, "Do we want to get on the ice too?"

Luce looked over at Remmy, squinting as they waved "bye seal" to the weird fucking seal chilling in the pond they'd commandeered for the party. Okay then. Well, that was enough excitement she could take sober. She needed some real fucking alcohol. "I do know how to skate, but I'm sure not gonna do it when that," She gestured to the recently vacated airhole, "is swimming underneath us. Did you see those teeth? It'd fucking bite off a leg. I'm gonna drink is what I'm going to do."

Leah glanced at her friends, deciding what might be best to do. "I'll just walk on the ice, not skate. That's way less chance of me falling in, right? Walking and holding onto the side." Somehow, the drink in her hand was already empty, and a warm haze surrounded her vision.

Jasmine took another long sip of her wine and happily said, "Absolutely. Now that I know nothing in the pond will try to eat me, I'm game."

Connor skated around with Ari and Nell and Leah and now, Adam. "Are you the only one underage?" he asked Ari, giving her a little smile. "Don't worry. Fuck pre-gaming. We can post-game at my house now that it's not infested any more."

Kaden sighed. "Are you going to make me?"

Adam looked back at Connor with a frown, wondering if the infestation was ghosts or cockroaches or satan or something but decided not to ask. He tied up his skates and began breaklining across the pond, perhaps unsure of what 'casual skating' was.

Remmy shook their head. "Scaredy cat," they teased, before skating away. Moose had been following them along the outside of the pond, running back and forth, making sure to stay away from the hole. Finally, he settled into the spot next to Luce, laying down next to her as he watched Remmy skate away. They were choosing to have a good time, Luce could stay behind and be grumpy all she wanted. They skated up to Nell. "Wanna race?"

Jack was better in high heels than skates, but he got on the ice with enthusiasm. "I don't know what all the fuss was about that big fish," he said with a shrug, flexing his gorgeous muscles as he skated about with perfect grace - even when he lost his balance and fell on his ass.

Ariana knew Remmy wasn't talking to her, but couldn't resist a good race. "Hell yeah she does. I'm getting in on it, too."

Marley took another long sip, watching as everyone finally dispersed once the seal was gone and the hole was boarded up. She looked over at Erin, who had started walking towards the pond as well, yelling at Nell. "Ah, leave her alone," she said, grabbing at Erin's arm, tugging her back, "it's her birthday. Let her be crazy." Besides, she wanted Erin to stay with her. "Wanna roast marshmallows? I hear those are supposed to be good or whatever." Plus, she'd never done that before, and she kinda really wanted to try.

Connor was more than happy to join in one the race, provided they all stayed away from the hole. "Oh, I'll play too, but can I please pet your dog after? He's so cute."

Bea put on her skates and waved to all her friends. "Come on! Have some fun! See Jack is having a great time!"

Adam zipped to the far side of the pond and produced a 'flag' from the jersey under his jack, holding it up high for the races to take their places.

For the rest of the evening, Dave would periodically resurface in that tiny hole to breath, and spent the rest of his time judging everyone at their ice skating skills.

Erin winced when the muscle-y hunk of a man she could only assume to be the stripper hit the ice hard. She wanted to skate but she got the impression Marley wasn’t ready yet. “Sure, marshmallows sound good. But don’t think you’re getting out of getting out there with me,” she said pointedly before following Marley to the open fire.

Seeing Remmy come up beside her, Nell didn't hesitate to answer. "Hell yeah I do!" she echoed Ariana's sentiment. "I can start us off." Then she began a countdown. "Three...two...one...go!" On the word 'go' she didn't hesitate to playfully shove both Remmy and Ariana as she took off and Adam worked his makeshift flag, trying to get a cheap head start by throwing them off kilter. Then she called back to Erin and Marley. "Yeah! Leave me alone!" she laughed as she skated on, carefully avoiding the hole in the ice. Despite the seal, and perhaps even in conjunction with the seal, the warmth of the party had her grinning as she raced around the rink, unable to think of anything she'd trade this party, company, and seal for.

[kyndaris]

Divine Comedy

There’s a lot to be said about Immortals Fenyx Rising. That it’s a close of Breath of the Wild. That it’s far too childish. Or that it’s essentially Assassin’s Creed, but reskinned. In an age where games have aimed for photorealism and developers have been adamant about using a colour palette that has basically amounted to shades of brown, Immortals Fenyx Rising is a breath of fresh air. The sharp contrasts of yellow, purple, blue and green make the world vibrant and a wonder to behold as they pop out of the screen. Even the art style is a reminder of decades long past when mascots dominated the scene. 

I, for one, find it much better than the deluge of similar character models we’ve encountered for several long years of video games. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

While the title of this post is a reference to the epic poem written by Dante Alighieri, which I haven’t quite finished (and in all likelihood, it might take years before I actually bother with Paradisio and catch up with Dante’s yearning for Beatrice), I thought it quite an apt descriptor for the narrative of Immortals Fenyx Rising. Why, you may ask - as the epic poem describes Dante’s descent into the nine circles of Christian Hell before he journeys to purgatory and on to paradise? 

Simple. Because while the plot of the Divine Comedy doesn’t have many (if any) parallels with the game itself, I thought it was a great way to draw attention that Immortals Fenyx Rising is a story told within a story. And who should tell it but our favourite titan chained to a rock, where his liver is ripped out by an eagle every day, as well as the Father of the Gods, Zeus himself.

While the internal timeline takes a bit of time to adjust to, I liked having Prometheus and Zeus commenting about the actions Fenyx was undertaking. It was amusing to listen to them argue, provide commentary (mostly Zeus’s opinions of his many children and his exploits) as well as edits to the ongoing narrative to add a little challenge.

But while the telling of the story was exciting, the actual tale was one as old as time. There was nothing original about finding the Gods, collecting their Essences and tackling Typhon once Fenyx was decked out with upgraded gear and had unlocked all the abilities at their disposal. As a purveyor of video games, I’ve encountered the same loop many times and was a little deflated by the time I had defeated Typhon. Even the plot twist near the end failed to serve up much in the way of surprises. 

Typhon, himself, was a little too hammy. While a serviceable villain for a children’s game, there was far too little depth when it came to his interactions with Fenyx. So, if one was hoping for an epic tale, I would advise to look elsewhere. 

Still, given my love for Greek mythology, I liked the retelling of many of the Greek myths and seeing Immortals Fenyx Rising’s rendition of some of my favourite Gods. Though most were not explored in depth, mentioned only in passing, I liked the references made to the Trojan War, the many ways Athena turned young maidens into cursed monsters or animals/ insects, and the numerous Greek heroes that have since found their way into the mainstream.

What I liked most was that Atalanta was given a piece of the spotlight alongside Herakles, Odysseus and Achilles. Even the animated show Class of the Titans stumbled somewhat with the title screen - declaring Atlanta a descendant of Artemis (which is impossible because the Goddess of the Hunt was prided for her virginal status). 

The characterisation of the Gods was also quite nice. Given Zeus’s proclivities, it made sense that his children hated him. Hephaistos soared in the role of tortured artist and Aphrodite’s transformation into a tree, along with her more selfless attitude in that form were all great to witness. Ares, of course, probably had the most fun quoting God of War (2018) with his: “do not be sorry. Be better.”

When it came to the controls, I felt that they were a little too floaty - particularly when it came to running and jumping. Given the aesthetic, however, I was relieved that it was not as pixel perfect as other games. Combat is serviceable and revolves around the use of sword, axe and bow. After levelling up my weapons and armour, and equipping those that would complement my play style, I was nigh unstoppable as I tore around the Golden Isles on my noble steed.

The one major gripe I had about Immortals Fenyx Rising were the puzzles. There are far too many. Almost every collectible or myth challenge involved moving weighted boxes around, hitting targets with arrows or racing a countdown timer. While most are quite easy, some of the Tartaros vaults could be downright devilish with how precise the timing is. I hope that future iterations would allow for separate difficulties for combat and puzzles/ dungeons because I still have nightmares about a few of them. It just seemed that wherever Fenyx went, they were dogged by contraptions that needed solving and this sucked out quite a bit of the fun from exploring and taking a look at the next question mark on the map.

Immortals Fenyx Rising is different from many games that have come from triple-A studios. While there are many similarities to Nintendo’s Breath of the Wild, the colourful nature of the land of gods and monsters is a far cry from what Ubisoft had primarily been churning out on a regular basis. And that’s a good thing. Shaking up the formula, even a little bit, by making things look a little more cartoony or using colours that pop out of the screen is a great way to reengage with players that might be suffering from first-person shooter fatigue. And while I don’t mind exploring the English countryside as a Vikingr, it is nice to be able to freely customise my avatar and make them wear goofy outfits rather than watching them grimace realistically for the sixtieth game in a row.

Also, it featured a credits scene. Albeit, a fake one that was meant to throw the players off. But, at least there kind of was one?

[squidproquoclarice]

Hey Squid 👋🏻 Regarding your Sunrise AMA, what is one of your favourite moments from the story, or favourite thing about Sunrise in general? Was their a line or paragraph that stands out to you as one were you were like yes, this is good and just flowed easiest? Did you have any things that you knew straight away that you needed or wanted to write about? Also I was wondering what inspired you to have them join the Circus? And what do you think their kids jobs would be when they grow up? (I probably have a dozen more but I will just leave it at that for now 😊 ty!)

Heya!  Let’s see.  Since we’ve got multiple questions, I think I’ll leave the favorite moment(s) question for someone else to ask.   Favorite thing about Sunrise: I started it a few days after finishing the game.  From the savefiles and my chapter 1 posting date, it was only four days.  Obviously Arthur touched something emotional within me, like he did for a lot of people, and seeing Sadie so cold, alone, and fatalistic in the Epilogue hurt too.  I wanted to see if I tried to write what could have happened after that fight on the ridge where it might lead.   So I guess my favorite thing about Sunrise is that it debunked the assumption that Arthur had to die for the story to work or matter.  I wrote a journey for him and for Sadie that a lot of people connected to and told me that meant a lot to them to see them thrive and heal.  Characters don’t need a tragic ending to be deeply meaningful.  Characters don’t have to die for redemption.  It’s not somehow more artistically pure or daring to kill someone off.  I didn’t break RDR1 by writing Sunrise, and I made the plot beats of the RDR2 Epilogue work.  So Arthur’s death also frankly wasn’t necessary for plot integrity towards the events of 1907 and 1911. A line or paragraph that I really enjoyed writing: I’ll go with one early on, from chapter 6, “Death Is A Woman”, that actually gave the chapter its title. He managed a low, dark chuckle at that, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. His lungs gave a bit of a grouchy hitch at it. “Newsmen are a different breed of confidence men and liars, that’s all. Anyway, I’m sure Death’s got to be a woman, Sister, cause it seems even she won’t have me.” That one made me feel like I really finally nailed Arthur and his character and state of mind in the weeks right after he’s had his entire life and identity knocked out from under him.  But of course he has to couch it in a self-deprecating quip.  Also kind of a funny line in retrospect because I hadn’t planned anything with Death/The Strange Man cropping up in the story at this point, but apparently Arthur’s wrong and Death is not a woman in RDRverse.  ;)   Things I immediately needed or wanted to write about: Giving Sadie a voice and POV to show what was going on in her head.  Beyond that, giving both of them the respect of acknowledging their PTSD, but doing my best to let show what trauma recovery really looks like, and showing that it’s possible.  I didn’t want to either shrug it off as inconvenient to a happy ending, or else treat them like permanently broken things.  I wanted it to be a journey.  When it came to Arthur’s TB, I also wanted to write something realistic and accurate to the period in terms of his recovery rather than just sort of handwaving it.  Historical medicine’s an interest of mine, so this was a good chance to explore some of that.  Joining the circus: This is one of the rarer instances where the tail sort of wagged the dog and I had to make something fit to an immovable future plan.  I had them in 1904 having claimed a homestead up in Canada that needed to be settled and improved within three years.  And I knew for 1907 Team Griffith needed to be in the five-state area of the RDR2 map in order to be involved in the Epilogue.  I could have had them go back to Chuparosa and continue eking out a living, and debated pushing them back on the bounty hunter path to put them being sometimes in those American states that would let them cross paths with the Marstons somehow. Didn’t really like it.  Given how averse they were to bounty hunting together with two very young children at home, how Sadie absolutely wasn’t going to be the little wife sitting at home and letting Arthur go alone into danger as an alternative, and how much they both liked the idea that they no longer needed to live that sort of life, it felt like I needed something else.  And it needed to be something that they could walk away with no offense taken from in three years.  In retrospect, I could have had them hire on at MacFarlane’s full time rather than seasonal and developed that bond even more, but I ended up coming up with a circus that folds in 1907 as a good alternative.  Given they’re ace riders and crack shots and pretty fair actors, that Arthur was very used to a nomadic lifestyle, that circus folk are great actors and can deal some mild well-meaning trickery as part of the delight, that they were fairly egalitarian for the time, and that traveling circus folk sort of existed as a quasi-disreputable and tightly knit “outsider” group, it felt like a neat chance to mirror the gang, but in a positive way.  So with the circus, I got to write Sadie and Arthur getting to live the best version of that kind of life, and sort of coming to peace with more of the past by it.  Proving the things they missed about the gang weren’t the robberies or Dutch’s antisocial philosophy, but the people they loved and the freewheeling lifestyle.  Also proving that while they enjoy that life, they do both really want to have something more settled and put down solid roots.  Sadie misses that, and Arthur yearns for it as something he’s never had. Also noting I hadn’t planned at all on Arkady Rudenko when I wrote Sadie and Arthur performing as the “Cossack Karolovs”, and I only realized that connection after I’d written the final chapter.  Guess my unconscious brain knew more than I thought even back then, though I’d only earmarked a few months before that final chapter trying to possibly work in the interesting fact of Ukrainians being a very prevalent immigrant group to the Canadian prairie provinces at the time.  But yeah, as an actual Cossack kid, Archie’s probably going to laugh his ass off. Kid’s jobs: So I actually have a short scrapped bit that I didn’t include as an extra document at the end of chapter 88, though I debated it.  I like the piece, but I wanted to leave it with Sadie and Arthur’s journal entries and the circle of things being sort of complete. It’s a preface to a book called “Red Dead Redemption” written by Jack--who’s become a writer of a fairly famous radio play turned TV serial--in the ‘60′s once all the OGs are finally gone and he feels safe to tell that story.  It mentions that the illustrations were done by his wife, Bea.  So yeah, Bea got Arthur’s artistic talent, and by submitting her work as “B.M. Griffith”, she managed to get some illustration jobs that would have been denied to her as “Beatrice”.   Mattie (Matt as he grows older), becomes a doctor.  He’s already got the caring heart and desire to heal and help people.  He’ll likely end up helping Felipe out as a teenager and learning some of the ropes there before going to college. Susie ended up becoming a teacher.  There were definitely still strictures at the time against married women working as teachers, so if/when she got married (and I think if so, she did it later in life) she’d have been expected to retire and effectively become a housewife.  But she’d still keep teaching as a tutor.  Andy, with his energy and love of horses and the outdoors, actually shows a passion for farming and ranching.  So he’s the one who ends up running the day-to-day of Paradise Run as the next generation.     Feel free to keep up with the AMA with those further questions!  Might be better to send them in individually, though, as this one got pretty long.  ;)

[spiltscribbles]

My Saving Grace

Notes: This was written for my beautiful, sweetheart @tedddylupin as part of our server’s Spring Exchange <3 I’m sorry that this isn’t a surprise anymore but I love you and I’m sorry that this is late. I hope that you enjoy it! Thank you to the realist babe @omgcmere for dealing with my shit while writing this. You can join our server here » https://discord.gg/g2ZgKkJ

.-

A Reblog is worth a thousand stars.

.-

It’s a thick, sprinkling spring morning, and Henry’s standing outside the Matin Bleu like he’s done every Easter his family spent in the states. It’s a small, conspicuous bistro fashioned in the French model that lies in the northern Hamptons. Henry knows it’s every nook and crevice, knows the pastel tablecloths and porcelain china, and he noticed when they adopted new silverware two years earlier. He knows this place like the back of his hand, holds it synonymous to his grandmother’s ever-appraising gaze and Philip’s stiff upper lip and the way it sometimes felt like he was being suffocated by the formality of it all— by the unbridled expectations held for a Mountchristen heir. And God, this is pathetic, the fact that Henry can’t even step into a brunch with his family without the ominous sensation that he’s about to step into enemy territory. Like they were one of the new Kingpins ravaging the neighborhood streets, and he needed an actual superhero to come and save him.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters to himself, pulling out his phone to check the time and see if Alex’s near by, admittedly not sure if he could face all their judgmental glances without some sort of backing.

“Your hair’s starting to get mussed.”

Henry starts, turns around to find Beatrice walking closer to him. She’s got on  a  sundress that makes it so flecks of green dance in her almond eyes and a truly massive hat that would make the British royals seethe  with envy. And Henry’s never been so thankful for the sight of her a day in his life.

“You’re late,” he chides softly, leans down for her to hug him   hello and slips his phone back in his trouser’s pocket, inwardly praying that Alex’s at the very least on his way.

“’S the pregnancy, it’s got me in shambles trying to figure out the time,” Beatrice sniffs, snaking her arm through his own as they stroll into the restaurant. Henry doesn’t care if he admits it, everything feels easier with his sister besides him.

“Don’t tell me that works on Louis, the poor sod.” Henry snorts, incredulous, as he pulls out her chair for her to sit in and greets his Grams and mother with perfunctory pecks on the cheek.

“Louis’s great with all of it,” Beatrice beams, hands moving to rest on her still barely-visible belly. “Even with the mommy brain.”

“You make sure he keeps that attitude up once diapers come around,” a cousin crows from further down the table.

“He’s sworn it,” Beatrice assures glowingly.

“Well Bea, where is Louis? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got knocked up by an irreverent tosser?” Philip asks, passing the butter to Martha, who’s rolling her eyes at her husband’s crassness. Henry hopes she knows that she’s not alone on the annoyed by Philip boat.

“Nice to see you too Pip, it’s been too long.” Beatrice glares with a truly mutinous twisting of her lips.

“Well, answer, where is your husband frolicking around if not here with his family?” their grandmother— a woman who the queen of England had to work her schedule around to meet—  presses, voice drenched with disapproval.

Henry takes Bea’s smaller hand into his own and squeezes for support.

“He had to go to the office in the city to oversee a vulnerable account, Grams,” Beatrice answers with a level tone, squeezing back so hard that Henry swears she’s trying to snap his fingers right in half. “He’ll be here before the second course.” 

“Well, if the firm needed him that’s perfectly reasonable,” she clears her throat right then, eyes cutting over to Henry, and he knows exactly what’s coming next. The same old diatribe about how he’s such a failure, such a disgrace to the Mountchristen name. A family that’s been the crown jewels of each and every antiquity in every Major city in the western hemisphere for the past half century. How Philip’s the only one who’s adopted a good head on him, and how Henry should’ve gone into politics or the Marines or become some sort of hot shot investment banker who makes millions on the hour. Not just some frivolous writer, a damn journalist living in Soho like a bohemian tosser. (Her words precisely.)

Henry’s heard all of it before, breathes in to prepare for the worst of the tongue lashing. He’s only mildly surprised when it’s his mother who speaks up in her timid, unaffected tone to stop it before it begins.

“Let us just pick out our soups, shall we?”

“Ahem, yes. I’m famished,” Henry tacks on, gazing at her thankfully, watching as she runs a hand through her blonde hair— the same shade of his own.

“As long as there’s no onions, the little tyke won’t take even the smell,” Beatrice adds on with a small smile, and the moment passes. His Grams goes back to fuming about all she’s heard on the news, Philip’s gone back to tossing barbs with Beatrice, and Henry’s back to wishing he were anywhere but here before discretely checking his phone for the sixth time in as many minutes.

His stomach sinks at the realization that Alex still hasn’t called or even sent a text. 

“And what of you little brother?” Philip asks, tone vacant of any real interest. “You’ve been seeing a new bloke you wanted to introduce us to, haven’t you? Don’t tell me he’s already old news.”

Henry feels the furious flush spilling across his cheeks at the not so subtle implication that for some reason Henry goes through partners any quicker than he or Beatrice had at his age, and he really wishes he hadn’t gone through the standard Mountchristen indoctrination of not using a voice beyond a soft murmur in public because he’d really like to yell at Philip right about now. Yell at  him for being a beyond annoying, homophobic wanker right in front of everyone. Thankfully, the pure anger is belied by the sudden, and crippling familiarity of Alex’s voice cutting through all the rest. And it’s like Henry’s been filled with helium once he turns slightly and finally catches sight of Alex, his Alex. Alex in that dark suit that makes him look like a Brooks Brothers advert, and Alex who’s always the most incandescent  point in Henry’s world without even his realizing it. Even at the start of all of it— at the start of them, when they had first met and Alex was a god forsaken prat about everything— contrary to his core— And sure, Henry admits he was being intentionally pretentious and perhaps a wee bit waspish whenever Alex got on a soapbox and began  one of his diatribes about how heroes are the most incredible, selfless sort of folks in a community. And sure, wherever one of them pushed the other had to dig his heals in the sand and stay firm just to make a point, just to make the other work that much harder and notice him that more intensely. But the last year has incorporated  something totally knew— something uncharted and scary and dangerous— like at any moment they could step on a landmine— but its also been the most miraculous year of Henry’s life.

It’s been a year of sloppy snogs exchanged at midnight underneath a thousand polluted stars and amidst a symphony of honking city horns. A year of tangled limbs and sweaty sheets and laughter pouring out soft lips. A year of spilled hair on shared pillows and shirts tumbling together so many times that they just begin smelling like a cocktail of the both of them, together. And if he’s being honest, Henry doesn’t exactly know what this is, what it means. All he knows for sure is that he could spend the rest of his days merely parsing out all the varying shades of brown that dance in Alex’s molten eyes and he’d be content. And Henry frankly doesn’t care how utterly love sick that sounds.

“Alexander,” Beatrice— Henry’s saving grace— is the one to crow in greeting, excepting his hug before he takes the spare seat besides Henry.

“I’m so sorry I'm late,” he says with slightly labored breaths, as if he had run the entire way here. “The traffic coming up was all levels of awful.” In a tender sort of motion he quickly brings up Henry’s hand— the one he had interlocked with his own once being escorted to their table, and kisses it hurriedly.

Henry is blushing for an entirely different reason now.

“Never mind that Alexander,” Catherine waves off his excuse with a flick of the hand, a thin smile on her lips. Henry knows that Alex reminds her of Arthur, and Henry is both delighted by the notion and so sad that the only times he ever sees his mother with even a slight flicker of life to her vacant eyes is when she’s thinking of her husband who had died nearly a decade ago now. But that’s hypocritical, and Henry knows it. After all, it’s not like he’s ever going to be over that particular wound anytime soon.

“You missed the appetizer,” Philip tells him briskly.

“Perfect, I’m trying to keep this trim figure,” Alex winks and the rest of the table fall into quiet chuckles.

Henry beams, his  chest threatening to burst at the seams. THat’s his boyfriend. An insanely charming, insanely beautiful, supernova. 

Henry clamps his hand on Alex’s thigh out of view from everyone  else and they share a smile before being pulled back into conversation with Beatrice about her Mommy and Me class, and it’s all splendid.

.-

“They liked me,” Alex preens a few hours later, once everyone disperses and goes back home. The sun’s beginning to dip into the horizon and clouds are beginning to gather overhead as they walk the New York City streets, headed to Henry’s loft with interlocked hands.

“They would’ve liked you more if you weren’t so late,” Henry needles just to make a point, not actually mad. It’s kind of a set in stone characteristic of his. Alex is always, without falter, late to just about any function. It use to crease Henry— back before when they were just bickering acquaintances with a rather brutal amount of unresolved sexual tension, but now it’s kinda endearing.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, face going a bit pale. “Luna really needed Nora and I to stay longer at the lab. That sample he collected at the bank robbery last week after The Ranker’s attack  started multiplying, like it’s a living blog thing.”

“So you’re growing some homemade mutants,” Henry snorts, knocking their shoulders together. 

“I’d really like to say that smug isn’t a hot color on you, but your ass seems to make everything work,” Alex sighs, long suffering, as he gives Henry an appreciative once over— special focus paid to his aforementioned ass.

“And I’d like to say that my boyfriend isn’t a pervert, but alas,” Henry laughs ebulliently  when Alex hip checks him, almost not noticing the buzz to his phone. It’s a message from Pez, a tip on none other than  The Ranker’s whereabouts.

“What’s up Henryson, your face is getting all weird. And not even the hot way like it does when I wear my old lacrosse uniform for sexy times.”

“I’ve got to go,” Henry says, by rote as he tries to flag down a taxi with a emphatic hand.

“I knew it, you have a secret boyfriend,” Alex snorts.

“You say that as if I could handle even one of you,” Henry counters, relieved once a cab slows down, catching sight of him.

“So the sudden franticness?”

“The Ranker, he’s over at time square making some sorta announcement.” Henry explains, swoops forwards to kiss him goodbye before swinging open the cab’s door and slamming it shut. “June would have a conniption if I didn’t get some live video!”

Alex’s expression completely drops now, sticking his head through the window and preventing the driver from speeding away as Henry would prefer. 

“Lucky for you that the dude you’re nailing is the editors brother, she’ll give you a break.”

Henry tries his hardest not to roll his eyes at him, wondering if it’ll always be a point of contention that Henry’s work practically demands that he’s at the epicenter of these showdowns between these superheroes and their villainous counterparts.

“Love, you know as well as I that  if the Harold gets a story published before us one more time your sister will have an early death from a certified aneurism.”

“You folks across the pond really like your hyperboles.”

“And you Americans really like making your boyfriends late for potentially groundbreaking news.”

Alex furrows his brows, that familiar dent of worry between them when he frowns at henry. “Promise to be safe.”

“Always,” Henry kisses the tip of his nose before unceremonially pushing him out and directing the driver to take him as close to the action as he possibly can.

~*~

Alex can’t help but watch Henry becoming a dot into the distance, silently willing him not to be dumb and not getting himself into danger. Though he’s pulled out of it by Nora and June’s frantic texting in their group chat, so with a heavy, put upon  exhale he dashes behind the dumpsters across the way and changes into the costume he always keeps in his messenger bag. Taking him five seconds to a normal person’s ten minutes.

“Have you not been paying attention, like at all!” Nora’s voice is the first to crackle through the line of his built in bluetooth, sounding beyond bothered.

“I was with Henry,” Alex says in defense, the roads become nothing more than a dust in his wake as he runs faster than what could have ever been feasible before. “June, don’t ya have any control on which reporter takes which case? Like why can’t he ever just like write something on an old lady’s kitten being rescued by a fireman.”

“Sorry baby brother, but he wouldn’t have it even if I tried, besides he and Pez are like the best duo that the Sentinel’s seen in years.” June says apologetically, and Alex can only roll his eyes. He knows that Henry is too fucking hard headed for his own good, but still, he’d rather if his completely human, and utterly breakable boyfriend weren’t trying to get himself killed every time one of these hotshot villains want to have a temper tantrum.

“Whatever, just give me the coordinates, yeah?” 

.-

It’s only been like five minutes since The Ranker began his weird tirade, but everything’s already  been swallowed into complete chaos, with people screaming, and at least six car accidents, and all topped off by the ranker’s nauseating cackles pounding through the air.

Alex gives a quick once over, sees that Henry still hasn’t made it here yet, and thanks the lord for small blessings. He’s determined to finish this quickly and with no fanfare.

“The City is infested New Yorkers! And I’m here to clean it from the vermin!” The Ranker is in the midst of shouting, but Alex can’t tell from where.

“Three buildings down from Radio City,” Nora tells him. Alex is always sorta spooked on how she could practically read his mind like that, but doesn’t have time to think on it, to busy scaling the building in question and coming face to face with The Ranker— well as much as they could be considering the whole mask ordeal.

“Ranker!” He exclaims once the man in question finally turns around, ugly smirk on his lips.

“Aw, and the greatest vermin of them all,” he says through a small mike that distorts his voice into something low and scratchy, like gravel that Alex would really like to step all over. 

“Shucks, don’t go and start complimenting me,” Alex harrumphs, swinging an uppercut to his lower jaw and dodging the kick he aims in turn. “Would you just leave us alone already!”

“Just as soon as you flee this city! And stop getting in everyone’s way!”

“Way to do what exactly?” Alex ducks when he tries to punch the side of his head, parrying with a swift kick to his ankles, but the bastard is too quick.

“This city doesn’t need you Torpedo! It doesn’t want you!” He bellows.

“Is that why I didn’t get the customary Easter fruit basket?” Alex asks, faux owlish, as he rams into him. The Ranker gathers his footing and jumps off the building. It’s of course too good to be true, and he only has to press a button midway down to land smoothly with boots that have some sort of rocket contraption built into them.

“Oh damn you.”

“Yo Alejandro!  This isn’t being filmed for VH1 so can you just snip out those one liners and just tie him up for the cops or something!” Nora says, exasperation tinged with actual worry.

“I’m trying, but he’s like in new form since last time he showed his face!” Alex defends, jumping from ledge to ledge before landing only feet behind him. At least seven cop cars have already piled up around them, and a ridiculous amount of people staying to watch. God damn it, have they ever heard of self preservation! Alex would like to call them all idiots, but then spots a glint of gold besides an actually decent cop, Amy— and he relents that they might not be actual idiots. To be frank,  Henry’s the most brilliant person he’s ever known, Even if he acts like a doofus.

“Back away!” Alex yells to the throng of onlookers and reporters and officers. “He’s armed!”

“Oy, why we aught to trust you speedster!” A nondescript man shouts from the crowd.

“Maybe because I’m the only person who’s preventing him from squishing you guys like bugs!” Alex replies, screaming now. He knows he shouldn’t let petulant folks like that get in his head, but god damn it, even while rescuing them, they can be so damn ungrateful.

“Alex from behind you!” Nora yells through the speaker, and Alex manages to duck in time when the Ranker throws a particularly hefty slab of stone his way.

“Fucking hell.”

“Are we just going to be running in circles? Or are you going to just give up before I actually have to hurt you,” Alex yells, feet planted on the ground and glaring daggers his way. 

“It’s you who will be hurt you little pest,” The Ranker cackles, brings up his fist and begins pressing a button on his black glove that shoots out a blast of heat, leaving nothing but ruin init’s wake as he begins shooting indiscriminately. First at Alex, (which he obviously dodges with ease),  and then at the building behind him, and two more at the crowds who are competent enough to divide as soon as they see it pointed towards them. 

All of them besides one person. The aforementioned glint of golden that’s too busy scribbling notes into his pad to look up, and Alex’s heart literally lodges into his throat. Like an echo reverberating out a cave he can hear Pez from over head— where he usually stands atop a balcony to get the best photos— screaming Henry’s name, and he can hear Nora and June’s dissonant shouts for him to move before The Ranker strikes again, but Alex doesn’t understand what’s going on, it’s all thanks to instinct when he catapults himself forwards to push Henry out of the line of fire— both of them dodging the blaze ever so narrowly— Alex’s costume searing with smoke— and landing in a pile of rocks from a construction scene happening across the street. 

“Ouch,” Henry mutters, rubbing the side of his head before crouching upwards.

“Are you a fucking idiot!” Alex screams, pops up defensively to guard against anything else that the Ranker decides to aim his way. Alex isn’t sure whether he’s thankful or terrified that he’s no where in sight. 

“Keep me posted if you guys track him anywhere else,” he mutters to June and Nora, breaths finally beginning to even out, despite the fact that he keeps on picturing himself moving only a moment too late and  Henry suddenly gone— like a flash.

“You got it little brother.”

“Stand ready,” Nora warns.

“I suppose I should thank you for the rescue, though I must admit that the unnecessary insult does knock you down a few points.”

Alex can’t help the small, endeared grin that cracks his face  in half, but he tries his damndest to hide it from Henry’s ever calculating gaze— His mind is made for journalism, always working to figure out a situation— measuring the facts, and interconnecting the clues for one lasting crescendo of brilliance that figures out what hasn’t been spoken out loud. Alex is mildly terrified that he’d look into  his ocean eyes and be caught out.

“What? You get rescued a lot? Have a running tally going on which Superhero deserves the crown of America’s darling?”

Alex finally turns around to him, confident in his mask having stayed in place and tempering his expression enough so that it gives off a blasé indifference— and for the record, it’s fucking difficult when it’s trained on the dude he’s in love with.

“You folks must actually  be some sort of extra terrestrial human/alien hybrid if you truly don’t know that Judie Garland could never be knocked off her perch as America’s sweetheart,” Henry sniffs loftily, goes back to his notepad, because of course he’d rather make sure his notes were all still pristine over checking if he has something as serious as a damn concussion.

“Hah, that accent isn’t exactly yankee doodle sweetheart,” Alex says with a good amount of derision, head cocked. But oh, Jesus fuck. His stomach drops out the moment Henry’s eyes go sharp and his features turn pensive when he turns to look straight at him. Alex is such a fucking idiot, using one of his primary pet names for Henry so carelessly, so thoughtlessly. 

Alex is sure that he just let a major hint of his identity drop in front of him, but with some sort of pure luck that strikes, Pez sprints over to them, breaths heaving. 

“For God’s sake Haz I saw you almost get fucking obliterated! Do you know what that wold’ve done to my psyche!” 

Henry’s face goes tight with contrition, all his attention focussed on his best friend now, and Alex sees a blessed opportunity to run off scot free. But of course things are never that easy, and right when he pivots around to race back to June’s apartment where the girl’s are surely waiting, he hear’s Henry’s voice calling for him.

“Torpedo! A moment!” He pulls away from where he was hugging Pez, and steps closer to him, face sporting that inscrutable expression it does whenever he’s particularly serious about something— the one that never fails to get Alex all hot and bothered. 

And just shit.

“Ahem, my colleague and I are reporters for the New York Sentinel. I wanted to give you the opportunity to speak on what had just played out.”

Alex frowns, confused. No reporters make it actual practice to get any sort of information from the Superheroes, it makes much more money for them just to editorialize and demagog about them to sell issues. Obviously Alex knows that the Sentinel is different, it’s headed by his own sister for fuck’s sake, and he knows that Henry is good and true. But still, it’s a surprising request.

“You could obviously stay silent and have the people equate you to that monster,” Henry shrugs— as if it couldn’t make a difference in his world. And God is he sexy all in his element like this.

“No, ah. I guess I just want  civilians to stay vigilant, the Ranker seems to be only growing in strength and resilience. I have no clue what he’s going to do next.” Alex tries to speak in his most presidential like tone, something he’s been practicing since he were a kid considering the whole his Ma’s the mayor of one of the largest cities on the planet thing.

“And I could quote you on that?” Henry asks, hand moving frantically across the page.

“Yeah of course.”

“Spoken like a true hero,” Pez tells him magnanimously and this is starting to feel real slimy— like he’s lying to them outright.

“I should go, begin mapping out what’s going on.”

“Of course,” Henry nods, straightens to his full six foot one stature. “But if you ever need help trying to predict his next move, we’re on call.” He hands Alex his business card and it takes everything Alex has within him not to burst out in laughter— as if he hasn’t had the digits memorized for years at this point.

“Will do,” he winks, but the Superman aesthetic probably crumbles when Alex accidentally trips over one of the rocks that was being thrown around before he has to gather himself and run off into the distance.

.-

In modest terms, the story published on the latest stand off between Torpedo and the Ranker completely blows up. It’s the most viral story that the Sentinel— or any New York based paper— has seen in nearly half a year. Pez chucks it up to the quote they got from the Torpedo himself, but Nora argues it’s because they plastered Henry’s face right on the byline and Alex thinks they’re both right. 

In truth, Henry doesn’t really bother figuring out why this particular story spreads like wildfire, is only proud of it because of how the article makes it so June’s face goes relieved for the first time in too long— Admittedly, Henry is also elated the morning it was released when he had gotten an actual phone call from his Grams, congratulating him for finally proving his Mountchristen lineage, soon followed up by a email from Philip that actually says he had done well. And Henry knows that neither of them should have an effect on him— especially such an impactful one— but Henry would be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t feel like he was riding on cloud nine that entire week.

But It’s begun to die down now, and Henry’s still  trying to figure out what exactly are the Ranker’s intentions for New York, and the world at large. All his subsequent attacks have been  petty crimes in comparison to trying to start an uprising. They were attempts on stealing pieces from the Met or trying to break free some inmates in one of the more unsavory prison complexes. Each one was executed by one of his henchmen, and easily thwarted by the Torpedo. It just doesn’t make sense.

Speaking of which, the aforementioned hero hasn’t once called Henry or left him any other sort of message about the offered help,  obviously wanting to go at this solo. And that’s perfectly fine, but just annoying. Henry knows it in his bones that if they just exchange information they could plot out exactly what would happen next. But whatever, Henry has more pressing issues to worry about. Namely, his and Alex first anniversary. 

Henry goes back to rearranging the breakfast tray— all of Alexander’s favorites delivered from their usual cafe a few blocks down. The both of them knowing full and well that Henry can’t cook for shit. He did however spend half the night baking and icing a small cake that’s got piped on the date of their first night out as an official couple, and Henry picked out the red and white roses— sown together by the stem and placed in a thin vase right in the center— knowing that it symbolized unity, and mutual love. If nothing else, Henry knows that he and Alex are partners through everything, honest to the core to one another and always there for the other when he needs it most.

The most important part of Henry’s world will always be Alexander, and that’s not in doubt.

Gingerly, Henry picks up the surprise, sock clad feet toeing softly into Alex’s bedroom where he’s still knocked out. He had come home from Luna’s lab so fucking late. Henry hates how hard he works for him, tells Alex as much with low complaints mouthed against his skin and caressing hands pulling him closer, and closer still every time he comes home looking a little worse for wear.

And yeah, Henry knows that they’re trying to figure out how these heroes develop their powers, knows that they hope to create immunities against it to prevent from any possible, maniacal villains. But Henry would rather it that his boyfriend didn’t look so god damn worn out near constantly. 

In a voice still quiet and raspy enough for morning, Henry tells him, “Happy one year love.” Peppering small kisses against the width of Alex’s shoulders, and slowly tracks down the dips of his spine— brushing reverently against the small consolations of freckles that dance on Alex’s hip.

Slow and groggy, Alex flips around so that they’re face to face, a hand locked in Henry’s hair and their lips barely meeting for a kiss. 

“You taste like coffee,” Alex smiles, kissing Henry that much deeper. 

“Aw, the sweet nothings you wax about me,” Henry sighs, faux aggrieved as he grabs the latte in question, making Alex sit up, the blanket pooling around their hips and their ankles intwining.

“Man if I could start everyday with a shirtless you and cup of Starbucks I swear to God I would be set  for the rest of  my life.”

“Should I be concerned that I don’t know which of those you would rather have?” Henry goads, nosing against the crook of his neck.

“Don’t be dumb,” Alex snorts, setting down the drink and curving against Henry with a tender sort of care. Henry realizes the reason for the caution when he looks down and sees how his previously concealed side is covered in bruises, ugly splatters of blue and purple that’ll fade to green and yellows in only a few short days.

“Holy shit,” Henry scrambles off the bed, nearly toppling over the breakfast he had set up. But he doesn’t care— He can’t care, not with Alex just lying there, hurt and broken and Henry can’t do a thing about it.

“What the fuck happened!”

Alex winces, like he was somehow fucking embarrassed. And no, just no. Alex can not be embarrassed over this! Okay sure, there are some funny anecdotes of him being clumsy at the lab, or Nora accidentally tackling him a little too hard against the wall. Little spoofs that left small injuries and maybe a scratch or two, but not this. Never to this level. And Henry has no idea how to comprehend it. It’s like he’s drowning, lost at sea trying to figure out how to help him.

“’S nothing,” Alex tries for broke with a small shrug of the shoulder, but even that makes it so he grouses with pain.

“Alexander what happened!” Henry repeats in a voice like a whip, the same one he’s used with heads of states about wars that they’re still involved in, or police chiefs about unjustifiable shootings executed by their officers onto innocent youths. 

“It was a couple of punks when I was walking home last night,” Alex finally admits, worrying on his inner cheek. 

“What did they want!” Henry bellows. “Did you make a police report! Did you get a decent look of them? Or—“

“Baby, it’s fine,” Alex soothes, climbing out the bed so that he could stand in front of Henry, rubbing comforting hands up and down his arms. “It was not a big deal, they got my wallet, but we both know I’m broke as hell.”

“Why are you being so glib about this!” Henry says in a voice that shakes. “Is this why you came home so late last night. Did they threaten you? Was Nora there? Is she alright?”

“Everyone’s fine sweetheart, Nora wasn’t there and they didn’t threaten me. Just wanted some cash.” Alex moves to kiss across Henry’s jawline, each  corner of his mouth too, while he slings his arms around Henry’s narrow waste. 

“’S because of this bullshit zero sum game the Ranker has got going on with that Torpedo prat,” Henry hisses, feeling like a powder keg ready to blow. Alex stiffens slightly beneath him and he knows he’s thinking the same thing. 

“It was just some stupid pricks Henry,” Alex says quietly, there foreheads pressed against each other. “Now please, don’t let this ruin our day. I know your love sick, pisces ass has got a whole romantic production planned out, and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Breathing in deep, Henry nods, just slightly, agrees to go on with their anniversary plans.

“You really must think highly of yourself if you think I’ve spent that much effort on you,” he jokes, and Alex throws back his head in lovely peals of laughter and it’s all alright. For now. It’s all alright for now. 

Henry lets Alex drag him back in bed, lets him map out Henry’s body with his lips and hands and arches up towards him wantonly when Alex laps his tongue around his dick— a promise of so much more. 

Henry lets Alex wash over him, lets him think that this conversation has ended, lets him not worry about how Henry’ll take this in his own hands.

~*~

“Numbers on Henry suspecting that you spend your night masquerading as New York’s Walmart version of Batman?” Nora asks a few  days after Alex and Henrys anniversary while they write down the new growths showing on the mole collected from one of the Ranker’s more recent city attacks— an ugly black blob that only seems to be growing larger day by day.

“Honestly? I dunno. He seemed to buy the excuse that it was a mugging.” 

“But?” June presses, staying a good distance away from them with her lunch, all of them agreeing that they needed to regroup as soon as possible after the latest  incident of the Ranker attacking another jewelry shop on fifth avenue only last night.

“But, I just feel guilty about it. About the lying I mean. Henry and I don’t lie to each other, we’re like the exact opposite! We’re painfully honest.”

“Honest about everything besides what matters?” Nora sniffs, poking the blob with a stick he’s almost positive is meant to be used for mixing people’s coffee and creams. 

Alex tosses her the bird for that one, more than a bit cross over the whole ordeal.

“Alex, you’re only trying to protect him,” she says, dark eyes earnest with understanding. “I know that this is a sucky situation but would you rather risking one of these crazy villains piecing together that he’s like the one person you’d give up the world to save.”

Alex’s cheeks flush, lips pursed as he glances over to June who’s being uncharacteristically quiet.

“You think otherwise?” He asks, waiting for her to meet his gaze from where it’s concentrated on fiddling with her salad instead.

“Am I allowed to have an other opinion?” She asks, lips pinched.

“Course you are Bug, you know that.”

“Well then I think you should just tell him.” She charges, sudden passion vibrating in her tone.

“Did not see that one coming,” Nora intones as an aside.

“Alex, you saw how Mom trying to protect Dad blew up in their faces. She didn’t talk about any sorta legislation or anything she was trying to get past so that he would never be questioned about staying impartial as a congressman, and it only paved the way to their divorce.”

Alex feels like a rush of vertigo has just hit him, like he’s about to be sick.

“This’s different,” he contends, admittedly very weakly— But it is! This is Henry’s actual life at hand! Not the reputation he might garner from a bunch of smug politicians.

June frowns fully now, looking like she’s trying to throw Alex a lifesaver that just keeps slipping out his hands.

“No Alex, no it’s really not.”

The air around them goes taught, and Alex feels very queasy with the revelation that her words ring true.

“Can we put a pin on this you guys,” Nora asks, frantic. “Our lovely friends just blew up a couple of empty vehicles down in Brooklyn and it’s kind of a shitty situation.”

“Right,” Alex dashes to change into his distinctive red suit, tells the girls to stay on call for him.

“Stay safe,” June pleas, like she always does.

“Of course,” Alex promises, like he always does.

And the remaining discomfort from their argument dissipates because of course it does.

~*~

Henry admits that this is perhaps the dumbest, most idiotic, incredibly thoughtless plan that he has ever come up with, and that’s precisely why he hasn’t told anyone of his intentions. Not June, certainly not Pez, and God forbid Alex ever finds out. But the thing is that if this works, Henry could help put an end to this chaos for good, and maybe that’s worth the risk?

 Well at the very least, Henry hopes it’s worth  it as he swallows down hard and steps on a ledge, a perfect position to witness the current battle playing out in the Williamsburg streets. The Ranker— even more humanoid looking from the last time Henry’s seen him— a sort of slimy sheen shining against his black suit while  he’s practically roaring as he thrashes around, trying to hit a beam of light that Henry knows is the Torpedo, moving so quickly that the normal human eye can’t even focus on him before he makes a hundred more attacks. But like every time before, the Ranker seems to get a signal of whatever he’s been trying to do has been complete, and he ends it.

The Ranker  shoves hard enough and fast enough at the Torpedo  That he hits a building so hard that it begins to shake, and escapes as quickly as a blink of an eye.

Henry sees his chance, and he jumps for it— quite literally.

“Oy, Torpedo!” He shouts, knowing that with his superhuman abilities he’ll be able to hear Henry through the turmoil. And as expected, he stands up— shaking off the Ranker’s latest attack— and looks up towards where Henry had called him from— the top of a five story building.

“Here goes nothing,” Henry mutters to himself, eyes clenched shut a he sucks in deep and jumps— feeling the air whip against him with a vicious sort of vindictiveness— like wind spirits were real and they were laughing at how fucking stupid Henry is for playing with fate like this. And all Henry could do is hope that his Grams puts up a nice memorial bench for him once he becomes a splatter on the pavement.

But then— in an instant— Henry feels a body colliding into his own, and the breath being knocked out of him, before the pair of them stop in the middle of an alleyway, and it’s all Henry could do not to lock his knees and puke all over the crisp suit of the Torpedo.

“Mother of Christ it worked,” henry pants in wonderment of himself, one hand slamming against the wall directly behind him, while the other arm is slung around his stomach.

“You fucking maniac!” Is the first thing Henry hears from the Torpedo once they’re on safe ground— though he still looks like he’s swimming in open air if anyone were to ask Henry.

“It— Ahem, it was the only sure way to get your attention,” he defends, admittedly pretty weak but whatever.

“God Henry! Can’t you be like a normal reporter and ask to become a cable talking head!” The torpedo bellows, but Henry is gleeful.

“You remember who I am?”

The Torpedo goes still— stuttering on whatever he was about to say next, as if Henry had caught him in some sorta filthy lie.

He glares with a harrumph. “Course I do, you’re the idiot from before who almost died because he’s stupidly inattentive towards himself. I’m starting to think that’s a trend with you.”

Henry twists up his lips, unamused but reasoning that being cross won’t help him if he’s trying to work with this prick.

“I'm also the guy who gave you my number so we could sort out this Ranker business once and for all.”

The Torpedo rolls his eyes at him, weight slung to his left hip and arms crossed incredulously against his chest. It’s such a painfully Alex move that Henry starts to feel reinvigorated, reminded of why he’s doing this in the first place.

“Listen, I get that guys who look like you probably aren’t that accustomed to what a blow off is—“

“I’m not trying to seduce you asshole,” Henry spits, he admits it might come off a bit menacing but the head on this guy, Jesus fucking Christ. “I’m happily in a relationship.”

The Torpedo looks strangely pleased with this news, but Henry doesn’t spare anytime trying to figure out what that might mean. Working with him is going to be fucking exhausting.

“Alright goldilocks, then why the hell did you want my attention so damn badly?”

“Oh fuck, do you just not listen! For precisely the reason I had told you! I want to put the Ranker away, for good.”

The Torpedo’s mouth hardens into a straight line, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“’S too dangerous for just a normal human.” He says, and Henry’s just not going to stand for it, a fire like rage licking up his insides.

“I think I can decide determine that for myself.” He says, mulish.

“I thought we’ve come to the consensus that you shouldn’t be trusted for your own well being?” He needles.

Henry’s over the small talk.

“Look, my boyfriend— the man I intend to marry one day! Was roughed up by some of the Ranker’s fucking little minions, and the amount of people this must’ve happened to is probably astronomical! So you listen up, I’m not going to just stand around idly by. I know for a fact that we’ll figure out his intentions much quicker together than apart! So for the love that is holy and right will you just stop being a complete wanker and agree to work with the lowly human,” Henry says this all without barely a breath between words, not having noticed just how close he’s gotten to the Torpedo, how their eyes are boring into one another’s now with a sudden, heated intensity. 

A silence lapse between them, but Henry doesn’t stand down.

“You’re intent on this, huh?”

“To a grave degree.”

Another silence before the Torpedo just shuts his eyes, tilting his head like he can’t bother to argue anymore. 

“Fine. Let’s talk it out.”

The tension building in Henry’s chest finally deflates, replaced by a sort of remarkable brightness that makes his insides buzz with excitement.

“Wonderful! I work over at the Sentinel’s headquarters right past the Meat Packing District, on forty-second. Meet me there Wednesday night.” Henry instructs, probably a tad too enthused, but he doesn't care, he finally’s getting somewhere.

“Hold up Goldilocks, i said I’d work with you, not the whole damn paper.”

“Don’t get your pants in a twist, folks work outside the office on Wednesdays usually, and it’ll be late enough that we can take up one of the conference rooms without anyone interrupting.” 

The Torpedo smirks now, and Henry already knows what’s coming.

“You sure you’re not trying to seduce me darling?”

“Wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, I don’t really go for guys in spandex,” he retorts.

“Hey! ’S good material for the shit I have to deal with!” He defends, affronted sounding.

“I’m sure, but I’m running late for a lunch date as it is, so just bring the intel you’ve got on’m Wednesday and we’ll converse then.” Not really sure what to do, Henry awkwardly claps him on the shoulder before exiting the alleyway, an excited smile breaking his face in half as he thinks of all the change they could do now.

~*~

Strange enough, it becomes a sort of standing meeting for the next few weeks— Like Alex and Henry were adding a second date night to their schedules. Well a date night where only one of them knew the other’s identity, and where they spent the whole time perusing through stacks of files ranging from the dates and locations of the Ranker’s attacks within the past year, from any new gang activity that had sprung up afterwards. Also a date where Henry studiously sat as far away from a masked Alex as possible, and who remained stiff for the entirety of the two hours they would talk. 

They end up successfully predicting the two next places that the Ranker targets, and it’s a thrill. Alex however makes it a point that Henry isn’t allowed anywhere near the area until Alex has surely staved the Ranker away. It’s a point of contention between them, but it’s a point that Alex won’t budge on.

He knows Henry, knows how he strives for the public’s safety the same ways Alex does, but where Alex was hit by a molecular transmitter when he was only nineteen— giving him powers and abilities beyond comprehension— Henry’s only got a pen and paper as his main weapons of defense. And Alex knows this vendetta runs even deeper than that for him, knows that Arthur— Henry’s dad who played a hero in Hollywood films— was kidnapped and eventually killed by a Luthor family member, directed by Lex behind bars. 

Alex sees the glitter in Henry’s eyes, the vigor embedded in them. And it what makes him want to lock the Ranker up, more than anything else. 

“You’re intense Mountchristen,” Alex tells him on one of those Wednesday nights, can’t help but gaze at the way Henry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and how his brows begin to knit together, intent on his goal.

“Eyes to yourself Torpedo,” he retorts shortly, not bothering to even look up.

Part of Alex really appreciates how standoffish he behaves in front of dudes who are so obviously into him that aren’t Alex, but most of him hates the distance, hates the secrets that they’re both keeping from one another. It feels like the foundation between them is literally crumbling, even though they’re both doing this to ultimately protect the other.

“What a strange and convoluted circle you’ve ensnared yourself within,” Nora says on the night of the Sentinel’s first summer fundraising event, popping a bite sized snickers into her mouth as she lounges on her sectional in a little black dress that makes her look like a million bucks.

“You’re really unhelpful,” Alex informs her bluntly, adjusting is tie in the mirror after replying to Henry’s text that they’re headed down to meet him and June in five. 

“Well you know there’s only one sure fire way to escape it,” she crows, smile going snide as she stands up. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve begun drinking June’s crazy person juice,” Alex moans, really needing her to have been on his side for this. 

“You know they called Van Gogh crazy, and he was a genius who saw what others were too dumb to.”

“No Nor, they called him crazy because he ate yellow paint and cut off his ear as a gift.”

Nora cuffs him on the back of the head. “You’re being crass.”

“Ouch,” Alex squints, rubbing the tender spot. “And you’re being especially mean.”

“Only because you’re so dense sometimes,” Nora sniffs. “Now c’mon we were suppose to be there like an hour ago. What were you even doing all this time.”

Alex goes back to checking his reflection, absently gesturing towards the abrasively yellow binder on his coffee stand that he’s begun keeping here, less Henry accidentally finds it while rummaging around in Alex’s place. 

“Just going over some of the information Henry and I have been gathering, reading through it and everything.”

Nora flips it open, perusing through the papers leisurely. “And what have you guys found out in these little trysts of yours?”

“First of all, shut it,” Alex casts her a glare, just for good measure.  “And not much. There’s no real rhyme or reason to his attacks, except we did figure out that like after a month from the initial incident, there’s another one hitting the same place by some of his mysterious henchmen, like a month later— on the very dot.”

“The very dot?” Nora asks slowly, her voice adopting that tension it does when she’s piecing something together she wishes she wasn’t. Like the time she figured out the dude who owned their favorite frozen yogurt place in Brooklyn was actually the same person robbing a series of banks with his uncanny ability to literally turn into gas.

“Yeah—“ Alex turns around, rigid as he prepares for her next blow.

“Well a month ago you guys have it that The Ranker hit up Time Square, don’t you?”

And like a bucket of ice water pouring over him, Alex understands what she’s insinuating immediately.

“The sentinel!”

“June and Henry.”

Before either of them could take another breath, Alex has changed into his gear and lifts Nora up bridal style, racing to them and praying to any God who will listen that they’re not too late.

~*~

The sentinel is holding a special event to celebrate the continuous and substantial donations by the Richards family to their editorial board, with special honors given to the head of the political dynasty, Jeffery Richards.

Professionally, Henry is thankful for their money flow into the Sentinel’s tireless efforts to get meaningful and factual stories out into the public sphere. Personally? Henry thinks he’s the definition of a complete and total twat, and has wished on more than one occasion to give him a swift right hook for his backwards social views and another kick in the gut for his purely one percent focussed fiscal policies. This is why Henry is shocked to find Rafael Luna, Alex’s practical idol, exchanging seemingly pleasant small talk with him near the champaign fountain. But he supposes stranger things have happened, and decides to take a swig of his gin and tonic instead of worrying about it.

Henry must admit that there’s a certain panache— a peculiar charm—  to American parties that can’t ever be replicated in quite the same way.   The people are more boisterous than their English counterparts, more willing to mingle between groups and laugh hysterically to jokes that really don’t warrant as much. Henry thinks it’s funny, especially when he considers how much less these folks drink in comparison to the upper echelon of London society— the class of folks  Henry was born and bred to become the crown jewel of, up until his unceremonial rejection of those trite ideals. Considering where he is now— working to make an actual difference in this city, and surrounded by the most important people in his world, Henry’s thankful so much for his decision.

Speaking of which, Henry sees one of those people,  catching June’s eye from across the room, matched boredom on her face. She tips her glass his way, a small, comforting smile on her lips before mouthing a dramatic, “save me.”

Henry laughs,  finishes his glass and grabs a flute of the wine  to join her but is suddenly accosted  by a older couple made up of a woman  sporting  such large diamonds hanging  off her ears that Henry’s afraid one of them might just tear off, and a man, obviously her husband, who keeps glancing over Henry’s lips and slightly exposed collarbones in the most unsubtle way ever. Jesus fucking Christ, Henry was so close to home base.

“Elias and I saw you leaving that conversation with the Galloways and simply just had to sweep in,” the woman says in lieu of a greeting. Henry recognizes them now. Elias and Barbra Bellington, one of the Harold’s most formidable backers— He reckons he should play nice then.

“I’m flattered,” Henry says with a pleasant grin, shaking her hand and then her husband’s.

“We read that latest entry you did on that masked fellow who’s been terrorizing this city,” the husband explains.

“The Scarlet one.”

“The torpedo,”  Henry nods.

“Yes,” her husband swallows before averting his gaze from Henry’s lips yet again. “You deserve a pulitzer for  finally trying to figure out who he is. It’s been nearly half a decade with him  ravaging these streets and diverting the funds and work  from our officers.”

“A scoundrel by any other name if you ask me.”

Henry is so fucking confused how they got that from his piece.

“Erm, ahem. Thank you both for the kind words, but truly, It was more about his feud with the latest kingpin, the Ranker, than anything else.” Henry tries explaining, hates it when his work gets boiled down to a few salacious bullet points for the headlines. 

“They’re all the same if you ask me, rotten and only here to create chaos in our communities”.

Henry parts his lips to retort, most likely with a too loud  argument that she’s just flat out wrong, but then his eyes focus back on Luna, watching him part ways with Richards, and he’s always been so god damn curious for his own good.

“I’m sorry but I see a colleague of mine that I actually needed to touch base with on a upcoming story,” Henry coughs while excusing himself.  “You don’t mind if I just step away for a moment,” He’s relieved when they nod congenially and promise to find him later on in the evening 

Henry exchanges congenial nods and small grins with his colleagues as he cuts through the throng, stopping in front of Luna with less nonchalance than he would’ve liked, but whatever.

“Henry,” Luna smiles broadly, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “I was hoping to see you here.”

“I was happy to see you around,” Henry smiles in turn, wonders if it comes across as painfully awkward as he thinks it does.

“Where’s Alexander?”

“On his way with Nora, I had to stop by a bit earlier for some business with the rest of the staff,” Luna nods and they both take sips of their drinks, perhaps a bit tensely. “So, ahem. I saw you speaking with Richards?”

Luna’s brows hike up, if only slightly.

“Yeah, he’s a big investor in my lab as well as the Sentinel. Wants to help us figure out this newest wave of super mutants.”

Henry pins him with a one eyed squint, confused as all get out why Richards of all people would want to help with something so— Well so scientific.

“I know, I was surprised too,” Luna laughs, reading his expression. “But it’s true! Even had some of his men collect those mole samples I’m sure Alexander has talked your ear off of. They’re really something remarkable Henry.” He trails off into a deeper conversation on what their existence means, but Henry stops listening, the gears in his brain turning at rapid speed. And God, it’s so obvious. How did Henry not notice this before.

“I’ve— I’ve got to go.”

Luna furrows his brows. “Is everything okay?”

“I— I don’t think so,” Henry admits, racing upstairs to the offices where he’s been meeting with the Torpedo these last few weeks. He’s not really sure what he needs to do, or how he can even get the Torpedo’s attention so randomly, but he feels it in his gut that it’s urgent.

Though he’s stopped midway up the stairs, and it’s like his stomach drops out completely once he realizes by who.

“Richards—“

“Mr Mountchristen, I was hoping to get to speak with you.”

Henry feels himself beginning to quake, stepping further back, bit by bit.

“Is— Is that right,” Henry stammers out, wincing when his back hits the wall andRichards keeps on coming closer.

“You’re bright, I saw the tricks you pulled to get the Torpedo’s attention,” he nods slowly. “It was only a matter of time till you or that scarlet scoundrel pieced it together.” 

“So, I’m right. The samples you’ve been giving to Luna’s lab, they were early archetypes of the beasts you’ve been harvesting.”

“And they say blonde’s are dumb.” Richards chuckles, twining a finger in Henry’s hair, close enough for his hot breath to smack Henry in the face.

“So what? You found an alien to harvest the cells from or are they just growing off of you? And why do it? What’s the point of all this?”

“Hmm, well  seeing that you’ll be dead  soon enough,” Richard snarls, clamping a hand around Henry’s neck, and squeezing for good measure. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you how I purposefully exposed myself to the molecular explosion that ravaged the city a few  years ago. It gave me the ability to multiply at a whim, though alas not quickly enough.”

“It took a month for them to fully form,” Henry realizes, squinting when Richards squeezes harder. He claws against the hand Richard’s is using to obstruct his airway, but there’s no hope. “And what,” he wheezes out, seeing stars glitter the distance. “You wanted to create a little army to take over the city?”

“New York should be so lucky!” Richard yells, crashing Henry’s head against the wall with such force that everything begins to fade into darkness. “Ever since that damn Claremont got her hooks into it we’ve gone down the shit hole!” 

Crack.

Henry’s head cracks the wall again, and everything blurs, stars glittering in the distance.

The last thing Henry sees before completely blacking out is the windows shattering open and a dash of red.

And oh.

.-

The next time Henry comes too he’s met by florescent lighting and white sheets, can feel the cool liquid of an IV pumping into his wrist.

He can hear people calling his name, but he can’t focus on it, can’t focus on anything. All he wants is Alex, and he can’t believe the secrets he’s been keeping from Henry all this time. The secrets henry has been hiding himself.

~*~

Alex has been up a total of forty-three hours at this point, but he shrugs off any of the well meaning suggestions given by his friends or the doctors to finally shut his eyes and go to bed. He can’t. He won’t. Not until Henry wakes up permanently and he looks at Alex with his beautiful, cornflower eyes, and smiles at him with that heavenly grin, and twines their fingers into one another. Exactly how they should be. 

God, Alex can’t believe how stupid he’s been. Keeping these secrets from him, trying to protect him all this time, but it ended up pointless. Henry’s here, golden hair fanned on eggshell sheets and blue veins tracing his pale skin and looking like some sort of modern day sleeping beauty—  an etherial being— that Alex can’t dream of ever touching again.

Alex kisses Henry’s hand, swears that he’ll be honest and forthcoming just as soon as he wakes up and Alex  can look back into those bottomless, blue eyes for all the time to come.

.-

The exhaustion must’ve caught up to him, because suddenly everything goes dark and Alex’s next memory is of a gentle hand carding through his hair. He opens his eyes to find Henry peering down at him, crooked grin looking all levels of endeared.

Jesus, Alex is so lost on him.

“Morning gorgeous.” Henry says, still looking far too fragile for Alex’s liking in that hospital robe and with like half a dozen machines hooked up to him, but it doesn’t stop Alex from kissing him with all he has. 

“You fucking bastard, don’t you ever do that to me again.” Alex pleads wetly, hands cupped around Henry’s face and never wanting to let go.

“Well Alexander, if we’re being fair, I think I’ve still got a hundred other chances to unwittingly make you terrified.”

Alex frowns now, the realization slowly coming over him to what Henry’s words are alluding towards.

“You know!”

“I figured it out Torpedo,” Henry says, soft enough so that Alex has to strain to hear him.

“Bu—But when?”

“I think the between the second time Richards tried knocking me out, and you crashing through the office like some sorta renegade. Also you are not slick Alexander, the way you were checking me out during those meetings was frankly obscene.”

Alex feels his cheeks redden, disbelieving laugh punching out of him.

“I can’t help it, you’re really sexy when you’re all in your element.”

Henry smiles sweetly at him, turning his head to kiss one of Alex’s palms still clamped around his face.

“Says the literal superhero that millions of people around the world thirst over.”

Alex sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, wrestling down a grin.

“So you’re not mad that I kept this secret  from you?”

“Oh I’m furious,” Henry corrects. “But I reckon you’ve got a lifetime to explain your actions to me. And I might have been guilty of the same sort of indiscretion, if you squint.”

“Hah, just like a Brit, trying to absolve himself of the blame,” Alex snarks, kissing Henry’s tongue when he sticks it out to waggle at him. 

“Gross.”

“Think you mean sexy."

“Where’s Richards when you need him,” Henry sighs, faux put upon.

“Not funny,” Alex fumes, is only restrained from flicking him on the ear considering his current predicament.

The laugh that Henry lets out right then is something mellifluous and beautiful and what Alex could listen to on a loop for all the eons to come.

“No but truly, what happened to that prick anyhow?” 

“Tied him up with the evidence we collected, and called Officer Amy to make the arrest.” Alex explains, threading his fingers through Henry’s hair. “He’s locked up now. Probably’s gonna stay that way for a while.”

“So it worked out?”

“Henry, no situation in which you are at all injured is things working out,” Alex reproves caustically. 

Henry shakes his head at him. 

“God, such a softy Alexander.”

That time Alex does flick him on the ear and isn’t even sorry about it.

.-

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[rachaelslibrary]

February Wrap-Up

Hello everyone.  Wow it really has been a while since I’ve posted anything but I had my best reading month in pretty much ever this month so I feel duty bound to do a wrap-up.  I also really do plan on posting more this year (which I say every year) but I really do mean it.  

This month I read a total of 7 books, three of which were for my English Lit class but I am totally counting them because they were long and took me a bit to get through.  The class is weird because some weeks I only have to read like 15 pages, but others I have to read like 250.  Anyways, I’m pretty impressed with myself because on top of work and school, I was also busy moving into my new house this month.  But that’s besides the point.  Here are the seven books I read for the month of February.

1. The Epic of Gilgamesh by ???

I’m sure you can guess that this was for my English Lit class.  It’s a classic, and I know I’ve read part of it before for a class in high school but this was my first time reading it all the way through.  It was alright.  Really repetitive and Gilgamesh was kind of a little whiny at times.  I’m not going to give it a star rating, just because I don’t think it would be fair to grade this purely based on my enjoyment.

2. The Odyssey by Homer

Another one for my English lit class, and also one that I had to read part of for high school, but I did enjoy this one more than Gilgamesh.  Maybe it’s because I’m familiar with the storyline due to Percy Jackson, or maybe because it’s Greek mythology and I have a thing for anything in that category.  Either way, I didn’t entirely mind having to read 250 very, very thin pages of this book.  Again, I’m not going to give it a star rating, but it definitely ranks the highest of the ones I’ve read so far for my class.

3. Resistance Reborn (Journey to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker) by Rebecca Roanhorse

I was in a Star Wars mood for a solid week this month, so I re-watched a lot of the movies and picked this up.  This story takes place before movies 8 and 9 and follows the main characters as they try to rebuild after being decimated by the First Order.  I love Poe Dameron, he’s one of my favorite characters in the entire Star Wars universe so I was excited that this would be more Poe-centric, but a lot of the times he felt out of character.  It was like reading a watered down version of the character from the movies.  The book was enjoyable, but rather surface level, and while Rebecca Roanhorse did a good job of crafting a whole new Star Wars story, it ultimately felt like it could be skipped.  I was looking for a nice build up to the 9th movie, and this just felt like a weird fanfiction one shot.

3/5 stars.

4. Oedipus the King

Ever heard of an Oedipus complex?  This is the origin.  Poor Oedipus receives a prophecy that he will kill his father and marry his mother, so he decides to leave home and never see his parents again to prevent that from happening.  The catch?  He was secretly adopted, runs into his real father on the road not knowing who he is, kills him, and then goes and marries his mother not knowing who she is.  I didn’t expect to enjoy this but I found myself feeling really bad for Oedipus who was just trying to do the right thing.  Even though it was for my English Lit class, I’m glad I read it.  Will I ever read it again?  Probably not, but at least now I know the origin story behind the psychology. 

5. Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth

If you’re looking for a creepy story with a ton of queer relationships, this is the book for you.  In the early 1900s at the Brookhants School for Girls, a string of mysterious deaths occurred.  Fast forward to the present, and Merritt Emmons has written a book about the deaths and supposed curse that surrounds the school.  The book is now being made into a movie and as the cast arrives to begin filming, weird, creepy things begin to happen to them as well, making them wonder if the place really was haunted.  It’s a story within a story within a story, and a lot of it genuinely creeped me out in a good way.  I enjoyed both the 1900s timeline and the present day timelines presented in the book, and I enjoyed almost everything about this book.  It was a five star read for me up until the last 100 pages because it had a very dissatisfying ending that left a lot of questions and overall just didn’t feel wrapped up at all.  It felt like the author realized how many pages she had written and thought that she needed to wrap it up in the next 10 pages.  Not a bad book at all, but there’s just too much to be desired with the ending.

4/5 stars.

6. A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

This was one of my most anticipated books of the year and I am so glad to report that I really really liked it.  I’ll be honest, not much happened to continue the overarching plot of this series, but that didn’t stop it from being an enjoyable book.  This is told entirely from Nesta and Cassian’s point of view as they train and fight and just learn to be around each other every hour of the day.  I didn’t like Nesta in the original trilogy and found her to be very bitchy but this book explains it all and does an excellent job of it.  It’s a book about hurting, depression, healing, PTSD, and love.  And it is DIRTY.  Easily the sauciest of any of Sarah J. Maas’ books.  As I was reading it I kept thinking to myself “is this what it’s like to read adult romances?” I haven’t been able to answer that question for myself yet, but I didn’t hate it. I also love Cassian so much, so any book that he was a central character I already knew I was going to love.  Is it a literary masterpiece? No.  Does it become the Rhys and Feyre show occasionally?” Yes.  But could I overlook the little problems and just enjoy the story?  Absolutely.  The more I read it the more I realized that this whole series just has such a special place in my heart. 

4/5 stars

7. American Royals by Katharine McGee

This is a contemporary story that answers the question, what if George Washington was made king during the American Revolution?  American Royals follows three royal siblings, the heir, Beatrice, and her younger siblings Samantha and Jeff as they navigate what it means to be royal as young adults.  Jeff and Sam are straight out of high school and trying to decide what they’re going to do with their lives, and Beatrice is under pressure to start dating and get married before she eventually inherits the throne.  The story also follows Nina, Sam’s best childhood friend who has always had a crush on Jeff, and Jeff’s ex-girlfriend Daphne as the two fight over him.  Although this book was predictable at times, I still enjoyed it.  It was a light, fluffy read that got me through my book hangover after a Court of Silver Flames. If it was an eight book series I probably wouldn’t continue, but there’s only one sequel so I’ll probably pick it up over the next few months.

3/5 stars