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ajaviary · 3 years ago

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Hi boo! I wanted to take part in your event if that's okay! I'd like the character(s) to be a surprise and I'm also completely open to poly ships, love them, even! I'm Sunny, She/Her. I'm the good student type, very focused on my studies, determined and ambitious, but as soon as I get out of class, I love the unexpected, the unknown, the adventures. As much as I like planning my far ahead future, I really enjoy not knowing what tomorrow will bring, like buying random plane tickets and leaving on my own without a dime in my pocket. I spend most of my time reading, writing, studying, traveling whenever I can. My love languages would be words of affirmation and physical touch. Tell me if you need more info, thank you so much for this event ❤️

MHA Match up - Touya Todoroki/Dabi X Keigo Tamaki x Reader (College AU)

Summary: You’ve been hitting the books a little too hard lately, studying for finals like your life depended on it and maybe it did. Touya was amazingly helpful, being your study buddy throughout the whole ordeal. It helped that he was a year above you, he had already been there and done that with a lot of the Gen Ed courses you were taking. Keigo was far more relaxed about the finals, preferring not to stress over them, but it was easy for him to say, he picked up on things so easily and his photographic memory did him so many favors. It came in handy in other ways too. While Dabi was your study buddy, Keigo was the one taking care of you both, feeding you, making sure you guys did find your way to your bed after you just couldn’t stay up any longer. You wouldn’t have believed that Keigo’s carefree attitude would rub off on either one of you but now that finals are over the three of you were off on a surprise adventure that was all Dabi’s idea.

Word Count: 3282

A/N: Thank you so much for joining my Fall in Love Event! I hope you like how this has played out! I really love the dynamic between them. Thanks again!

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You place your feet on the dashboard, your bare feet wiggling as you’d removed your sandals, this unplanned road trip was just what you needed after the dreaded finals week was officially over! It couldn’t have ended at a better time. You’d been ready to crawl into bed and sleep the moment you returned to your apartment. Those plans were derailed obviously, but you knew something was up as you’d been heading toward the bus stop, you’d left your car because Touya had dropped you off for your last exam that morning before he headed to work. Keigo had been still asleep in your bed when you both had been getting ready. To be fair, that man had the world's worst sleep schedule.

Warm fingers slid into your own, you stopped walking so quickly that Dabi had almost knocked you off your feet, his low growl in your ear as he curled his arm around your middle to keep you on your feet was well worth his irritation as you turned to look up at him. “I thought you were working!” You exclaim not at all bothered by the fact that a few of the college kids leaving have to weave around you both, but you don’t care. Your attention was all for him.

His fingers squeeze your own a little tighter his own way of telling you he’s not happy about the earphones in your ears, it was one of the reasons you hadn’t heard him call your name when you’d left the Science Building. He’d been waiting to catch you, but he’d just missed you having gotten taught up in a conversation with Tomura and Toga, when they had spotted him waiting for you. Getting the petite blonde to stop talking was nearly impossible. Thus he’d cut her off and told him he’d catch them later as he’d seen you leave through the crowd.

Touya was the one always harping on you about being aware of your surroundings. It was a safety thing, he was just trying to protect you. He knew some horrible things happened on College Campuses and he didn’t want any of those to happen to you, it was one of the reasons usually Keigo or himself would meet you outside your late night classes. It also said that he didn’t want to have an argument about them.

“I took a few days off -” He started but was immediately cut off as your hand raised to press your wrist against his forehead, checking to make sure he wasn’t sick. He looked a little flushed along the cheeks as your warm skin pressed against his forehead reminds him of what his mom used to do, when he was little. You’re much more attractive for worrying about him. Not that he doesn’t think he’s mom was cute, he does, but you're one of the ones he wants to spend the rest of his life with, so it’s different. That was another conversation to be had later, but he’d been working a lot of extra hours lately for something special, something you and Keigo weren’t aware of just why he was doing it, but Keigo knew something was up, that golden boy didn’t miss a damn thing and he was pretty sure he was snooping around his room when he’d been out.

“I’m fine,” he told you seriously, the scowl on his lips made you slid up on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on at the edge of his lips, just to hear him give a low growl as he curled his arm around your back and claim your mouth for a proper kiss, swallowing down your laughter and loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Yeah this was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Alright, Alright,” You tell him as you break away. “So why the time off?” The two of you had resumed walking as he led you toward his car. “It’s a surprise,” he told her with a grin, watching your face morph into a pout at the fact that he wasn’t going to tell you. Dabi already slid into the driver's seat by the time you stepped off the curb after shooting a hurried text to Keigo asking him if he knew what the surprise was. His only response was a winking emoji face which only caused you to round on the car to the passenger seat with an irritated huff. You hated being out of the loop when the guys planned things without you. It was a great little bonding time for them as they loved to tease you over what you didn’t know. You got them back though in ways that neither would ever forget.

“Don’t pout Princess,” Dabi told you with a smirk as he shot you a glance as he backed out of the parking spot and began to head toward the apartment you all shared. He wouldn’t be the first to admit the relationship the three of you had was a little odd, roommates turned shared lovers was not something that could easily be explained, but you didn’t need any labels, there was no jealousy in your relationship and things were usually open and relaxed, but today was the exception, it had to be as the surprise was for you and he refused to tell you, he was stubborn like that.

You round on him as he stops at a red light, you’d been shooting a flurry of texts back and forth with Keigo, Dabi knew because he could see the way your thumbs were flying from his peripheral. He expected you to start pestering him with questions so when you didn’t, he let his teeth sink into his lower lip, scraping his teeth over his own lip piercing as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to fight with you, but the silent treatment was making him antsy. “Baby,” You ask him, as you lean over the console, your hand pressing the rest of your body toward him, this position gives you too much close contact with placing your lips so close to his ear. “Will you please tell me where we’re going?”

Touya shot you a glance with his bright blue eyes slamming to the light as he waited for it to turn green. It would turn green soon, he was sure of it. “Touya,” you ask softly, he can hear the smile in your voice as you know you’re about to get him to crack. His sigh of defeat is music to your ears as you lean back in your seat with a satisfied grin sliding along your lips. “So -” You start, letting the word drag on, as he rubs his free hand along the side of his neck where your breath had fanned over him, you did that on purpose you knew all his weak spots. “Where are we going?” you ask him again, waiting expectantly. There was no way your plan would fail you.

He had just turned into the parking lot of the apartment and pulled into one of the spots as he shut off the car and pulled his keys from the ignition. “Do you really want to know?” he asked you as he clicked the doors to unlock, he cast you a sideways glance, you didn’t catch the smirk that slid along his lips. “Yes!” You can’t help but exclaim as you throw up your hands as if that’s the most obvious answer. “We are going on a road trip,” he kept this voice as uninterested as possible as he got out of the car and closed the door, able to hear your scream of frustration before you had even opened your door. His laughter that you could hear as he walked away, should not have caused you to smile a little, you were supposed to be mad at him!

He wasn’t running from you, but his long strides were taking him further and further away from you. He let his fingers drag through Keigo’s hair as the other had been loading some bags into his SUV. You guys were taking his vehicle because it was going to be far more comfortable to ride in than his two door Mustang. “She’s all yours Hawkeye,” he told him. Keigo curled his fingers into his shirt and hauled his mouth down to his own for a quick kiss, not about to let him disappear that easily. Dabi let his fingers curl along his shoulder before he pushed away from him. “How pissed is she?” Keigo wondered his gaze darting to where you were still sitting in the passenger seat of the car. “Very,” Dabi told him with a chuckle before he disappeared into the apartment to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything and he had some extra things to pack up away from prying eyes.

Keigo watched you for a moment as you slammed the car door shut, only to stare for a moment at your bag on the floorboard and have to open the car door again to get it out, so your attempt at proving your point was lost. He chuckled to himself, his fingers dragging forward through his blonde locks to fix them, as he came over to you, your bag hanging between your fingers. He took your bag and slung it over his shoulder as he curled his arms around you from behind his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled against your neck. “What’s wrong Songbird?” he asked softly, his voice low and soothing, but he already knew, he knew how much you hated not being in the loop.

“Keigo,” you mutter his name, a soft prayer on your lips as you let your body sink against his own, all solid muscle and comfort. “He’s such an asshole,” you grumble and you can feel the Blonde smirk against your neck as he tilts his head, a single golden eye raising to peer up at you. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he tells you with a chuckle, his fingers digging against your sides and he’s tickling you before you can even truly suck in a breath to comment on his obvious bullshit answer. You’re laughter is filling the apartment parking lot and can do nothing more than wiggling against him, attempting to break free, but it’s half hearted as he drags you back against his chest and after a few more moments of torturing you, he’s stopped with the dragging of his fingers into your sides and they instead stroke along your sides in a tender moment of domestic bliss.

“How was your Exam?” he asks gently, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. He won’t ever admit that he’s been a little left out given all the time Finals have taken up, but he understands; he’s just feeling lonely. Your fingers move to rest atop his much larger ones and you let your thumbs brush over his knuckles and he presses a kiss against your neck as he waits for your answer, his hip shifting to press against Dabi’s Mustang. “I think it went well, but just glad it’s over you know?” you told him and for a moment you let your head fall back against his chest. “Me too,” he can’t help but agree as he shifts your stance; he presses your back against the car as his mouth claims your own, his tongue sliding along your lower lip and your fingers tighten on his forearms as you feel his tongue enter your mouth.

Some time in between the lazy kisses between you two Touya had returned and he stood leaning over the open driver side door of Keigo’s SUV watching the two of you. Some of his friends wondered how his relationship revolved around two people, one of them another guy no less, some wondered how the three of you got along like you did, many wondered if jealousy would have played a role, the answer was no, not really. It might have been if Keigo wasn’t interested in him too. He knew how lucky he was. The love each of you felt for each other was equal, neither stood above the other as it should be. He might have continued to watch the two of you if it wasn’t for the fact, they did need to get on the road. He enjoyed watching the two of you. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease you two a little, better him than your damn nosy neighbors. You know the ones who had their opinions ready to pass out, no matter if you asked for it or not. He just didn’t like to share the two of you with anyone.

He whistled, the sound sharp and clear, one of those wolf whistles and Keigo knows it’s him and he’s also one of the more observant, so he’s very aware of the fact that he’s watching them. “Let’s put on a show for him, wadda ya say?” he murmured in your ear. Your low chuckle is the only answer he gets before your arms curl around his neck and press your lips against his own and he hooks his arms easily along your legs and your legs curl around his waist, but your breaking the kiss and resting your cheek on your arm that’s still curled along his neck over his shoulder as your gaze is on Touya’s lingering form.

You stick your tongue out at Dabi, aware by his scowl as his gaze sweeps the apartment lot, that he doesn’t like the fact that you two are being so chummy in public. He’s such a sucker for keeping you both safe, but his protective nature isn’t something that truly bothers either of you. “Do you know where we’re going?” you ask Keigo as he walks with you easily across the lot toward the car. “Not really, but he’s pretty tight-lipped about where, but he told me to take a few days off work about three weeks ago,” he told you honestly. “Wherever we’re going he wanted it to be a surprise,” he flashed Touya a bright grin as he stuck his tongue out at him as he took his time getting to the SUV. “This sort of adventure isn’t usually his thing, I’d wager this is for you,” he admitted to you softly.

Your fingers press against his shoulders as you lean back in his arms, feeling his other hand travel up higher on your back to accommodate your shift of weight without any sign of discomfort. Your men had no issues carrying you at all. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes fill with guilt and regret for getting so angry with him when Dabi had only been wanting to do something nice for you, to surprise you. He loosened his hold on you and you slid to the ground at the front of his vehicle. His fingers travel along your shoulder before he’s disappearing into the back of the car, your bag safely being stowed away. He’s giving you two a moment to clear the air before the trip. That didn’t mean he wasn’t being nosy about it, the blonde was leaning his elbows on the console from the back seat, his shoulders touching the front seats as he watched you move toward their dark haired Prince.

Touya frowned as you moved around the vehicle and ate up the distance toward him. He couldn’t see your face because the wind had blown your hair in front of your face, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, he caught the tremble of your lower lip. He sucked in a breath your name, a soft question on his lips, his blue eyes concerned. You slid your arms around his waist and he curled his arms around you without needing conscious thought. As your cheek presses against his chest, your ear over his heart listening to its rapid cadence. He can feel your fingers curl along the fabric of his shirt across his toned stomach. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad earlier.” He closes his eyes with a sigh as his arms tighten around you, before he places a soft kiss on your temple. “You know it’s no big deal,” he says gently, hoping to reassure you and when your hold only tightens, he knew he’d have to go another route to get you to see that it wasn’t a big deal. “I love riling you up,” he can’t help but tease with a sexy chuckle, his fingers traveling up and down your back in light scratching motions. “You’re cute when you're angry,” he can’t help but continue, feeling the way your body tenses against his own. As you shove against his chest and his hold only tightens on you as he claims your mouth with his own, his hand cupping your neck as he bends you back as he deepens the kiss and your fingers curl on the fabric of his jacket.

Keigo shifts his body till he’s half way on the console of the car, he’s just as bad as Touya with watching you both. “As hot as this is we should probably hit the road or we’ll never leave the apartment,” he calls out, as Dabi sets you back on your feet, his palm cupping your cheek, his fingers curling along your neck for a moment over your racing pulse. “I’ll give you a hint (Y/N), you’ve been there before and loved it,” Dabi told you before he directed you into the SUV, you were going to go around, but instead he directs you to the drivers side and you scoot over the console Keigo has vacated and slide into the passenger seat, you look down to see your sandals on the floorboard and you smile softly at the gesture as you change out of your shoes and slip on your comfy sandals and expose your painted toes as you lean back against the seat. “I think I’ll let this be a surprise,” you tell them both watching as Touya starts up the car and you lean your seat back a little more your arm stretching up over the head rest and Keigo laces his fingers with yours from the back and you other hand reaches over to across the console and Touya’s fingers curl with your own as he begins the start of your adventurous trip.

#mha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #dabi x keigo #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #bnha hawks #fall in love #Fall in Love Event #ajaviary #college au

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angstsfordays · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Pain (7)

Chapter Seven- Gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: In your pursuit of Karli and her group, unexpected revelations come to light. Lines are now crossed and that there is no turning back.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. A bit of language. Maybe a tear-inducing moment?

Word count: 5k

Notes: In celebration of the last ep, today is a double release! 🥳 We are already at the 7th chapter of this series. It also has covered one of the most climactic episodes of the TFATWS series and wow, I can't believe we are here! 😱

I have yet to see the last episode but I have plans to do it tonight. I thought I could put it off until I finish writing for ep 5 but I couldn't wait. This would help me to plan the direction I want to come for the upcoming chapters. 😌 Hope y’all will stick to this series despite the show has ended. 😅

Please let me know what you think of the series so far! 🥰🙏🏼

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Next: Chapter Eight

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With Zemo’s inside information, all of you were heading to Donya’s ceremony in hopes to find Karli. You weren’t sure what to do knowing that you had secured a possible chance with Dovich to talk to Karli.

Grabbing your blazer, you made the move to join your group when you were greeted by the sight of John and Lemar walking towards you all.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you to pull this shit.” John thought it fit to lecture your group. You were walking beside Sam when you heard Bucky sarcastically questioning John on how he managed to locate your group.

All of your annoyance grew as John decided he doesn’t want to miss out on the action given his new status and hence, responsibility as- urgh you don’t even want to say call him that title in your head.

“Come on, man. You don’t think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing too much attention?” Lemar responded in kind.

John in all his fear of missing out started to question why you all had broken Zemo out of prison. Bucky patronizingly mentioned that Zemo broke himself out technically but John grew more irritated at not being taken seriously.

John’s higher than thou self was drawing attention with his loud talk and Sam had to cut him off. Zemo explained that he knew of Karli’s location and indicated continuing on his tracks before being stopped by John.

Sam went on ahead to explain that Karli would most likely be at Donya’s memorial and interception would take place there. Lemar noted the risks of casualties give n that civilians would be present.

John seeming pleased with the information started talking of a plan to take Karli in by surprise. This plan of ambush didn’t sit well with Sam and he proposed to talk to her alone. John refused, saying he didn’t want the possibility of losing Karli again.

Sam countered back that it was the best timing to reason with her, as she was now feeling vulnerable with someone dear to her loss. John vehemently rebuffed Sam’s proposal and claimed that reasoning with Karli was not an option, given that she had bombed a building with people in it.

Lemar, who you observed to be more level-headed than John ever would be chimed in that Sam could be attacked without any backup.

“And if I go in hot and the ops go wrong, more people will die,” Sam stated firmly.

“Sam is right.” Everyone turned to you and you continued to speak. “Look-” You shook in disbelief as you were about to break the promise you had with Dovich but you knew the situation called for it.

“I met with one of Karli’s guys.” All of the men were stunned at your revelation and you could see the betrayal on Bucky’s face more so than the rest.

“When was this?” He spoke up first as he looked on at you in disappointment.

“When we were out fishing for information on Donya, I miraculously spotted him on the streets and followed him. We talked.”

“And you didn’t bring him in?!” John accused as if you had done something terribly wrong. Bucky turned to give John the stink eye before going back to you.

“Why would you keep this from us at all?” Bucky couldn’t believe that you would have kept this information from him of all of the people.

“I promised him, he was going to talk to Karli for me after the memorial. He was our best chance to persuade Karli rather than go in by ourselves. We might not even have a shot.” You defended your actions.

“And how was he so agreeable to your request?” Bucky asked disdainfully. You didn’t like his judgmental stare at you, like as if he couldn’t believe you managed this feat.

“I saved him before back when we all fought the Flag Smashers on the truck. I convinced him with sincerity, happy?” You snapped back at the brooding super-soldier. Sam witnessing the once again tense exchange between the two of you intervened and spoke.

“That’s good, Y/N. Well done.”

“He said that he would only have me speak to Karli but I think you should do it, Sam. I can do talk to him again once he contacts me. You are the best one of us to do it.” You knew of Sam’s experiencing with counselling soldiers dealing with trauma and knew that he would do a better job to talk to Karli.

Sam was encouraged at your support for him and pulled you into a side hug which you returned gladly to him too. Bucky grew irritated at how your relationship with him was continuing to sour and began to feel disheartened. John being the thorn in your side still did not relent in his opinion.

“Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super-soldier alone?” John continued to harp on the matter.

“He dealt with worse and he’s not my partner.” Bucky curtly answered.

“I trust Sam, he’s more capable than you think.” You chimed in. Bucky gave you a brief warm look as the two of you had put your differences aside for a moment to agree on Sam’s competency.

When Lemar asked John to give this plan a chance, you could see the latter wavering on his stance. It seemed his soft spot for his partner and friend worked. The men still thought it was better to go for the memorial straight as they were not sure if Dovich could hold up his end of the promise.

You showed hesitation but decided to give in, knowing that you were outnumbered. Zemo led the group to approach a little girl and you could see him giving some money to the girl in exchange for the revelation of Donya’s memorial.

You all were soon directed to an old building and the little girl pointed up to a stairway before going off. Sam gave you a nod before making his way first.

John took it upon himself to cuff Zemo before stopping Sam, informing him that he only had ten minutes with Karli. You had it with his bossy attitude and wanted to throw a punch in his face.

As the time passed in the room, it was silent. Everyone took a spot to wait but John was pacing up and down. Bucky positioned himself near the door while you took a spot opposite Lemar.

Your eyes glanced nervously to Bucky, suddenly feeling all weird and awkward. You never had this feeling in a long time. The only time you felt his way was when you had just started living with him as you two were on the run and in hiding.

The sudden comfort and ease you had with him seemed to vanish with your first fight as you would call it.

“Hey, uh-now it’s not really the time…” Your attention to Lemar who was now speaking at you directly. Giving a surprising look at his unexpected conversation starter, you listened intently.

“I really am a fan of yours.” Your mouth opened slightly in surprise at his revelation. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a quizzical look.

“Just thought your powers are really cool. I was amazed to see them in action back in Germany.” You weren’t sure how to react but nodded shyly and thanked him. Bucky couldn’t believe what transgressed in front of him.

Peering over to see you with a bashful expression, he couldn’t help to grow irritated out of jealousy.

“Were you born with them?” Lemar inquired politely and you nodded in response. Lemar had another look of wonder before continuing to ask.

“That’s extraordinary.” You shrugged your shoulders as you didn’t know what to respond. Sure, you know your powers were to be envied but you didn’t think of yourself holier.

“It’s nothing to be envied. I find more respect for people who are able to do extraordinary things without such advantages.“ Your humility gained a deepened sense of admiration from Lemar. “Thank you for your service.” Throwing a smile in his way, yours grew wider as Lemar returned one your way.

Eyes looking over to John, you gave a slight brief nod before looking away. You also had to acknowledge his contributions but you didn’t like him as much so that was the best you could do.

Minutes passed again before John grew more impatient by the second.

“No no no, this is a bad idea.” He started whispering to himself as he shook his head fervently.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky noted with a huff.

“Don’t patronize me.” You could see John getting fed up with Bucky. Walking towards the other end of the room from where Bucky was, John stood to look at the clock and you saw the determination in his eyes. “That’s it. I am going in.”

“Woah, back down mister. You’re being too rash.” Moving to the side to block his path, you held up a hand to stop him from moving.

“And you’re being too relaxed.” He seethed impatiently at your interception. As his hands laid on your shoulders to move you physically, Bucky immediately went to snatch his hand away.

You felt yourself being shifted backwards and towards Bucky before he took a step in front of you. Both men puffed up their chests in dominance and looked at each other with distaste.

“This is all really easy for you two, isn’t it?” John’s eyes moved to yours before landing back at Bucky. “All those serum and powers running through your veins…”

“Your partner needs backup in there. Are you really going to have Sam’s blood on your hands?” John enunciated each word of his last sentence strongly to pressure you.

In a matter of seconds, John looked at the opening Bucky gave when he came to protect you and went for it. He quickly made his way to where Sam and Karli were.

You saw the look of distraught and betrayal on Karli’s face before she lunged for John and knocked him and Sam over. She immediately made a run for it with Bucky hot on her trail. Helping Sam up, you two made your way to back Bucky up.

The big building was an unfamiliar maze and the three of you tried to find Karli’s location. Hearing the sounds of crashing and gunshots, you all tried your best to follow the sounds to the exact location.

When you arrived at the door, you opened it to see Zemo knocked out cold on the floor. John was already at the scene and Lemar just joined a few moments later. The little pieces of glass with unknown blue residues confirmed your suspicions on what they were.

Oh god.

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“I deal with the power broker when the time comes,” Karli reassured the two men were worried about fighting two wars with both the power broker and Sam’s group.

“And I know a way we can deal with Sam without getting involved in a direct fight.” Karli intended. Nico and Dovich exchanged a brief look before Dovich asked how they were able to do so.

“We separate them. And then we kill Captain America.” Karli’s intentions didn’t sit well with Nico but he maintained a neutral expression. Dovich sat on the thought for a moment and remembered about you

“Hey look, Sam’s group is an odd mix but I don’t think they mean any harm. Except for Zemo, of course.”

With furrowed brows, Karli indicated for Dovich to explain himself. Dovich decided to speak about the earlier encounter he had with the Avenger.

“I talked with Y/N prior and she promised that she didn’t want any bloodshed.” Karli scoffed at her friend’s words and shook her head in disbelief. How was Dovich so trustful of you?

“That’s what Sam said too. But guess how it turned out.” She retorted with her own example to show how your group couldn’t be trusted.

“She’s not like that. I believe her, she can be trusted.” Dovich insisted. Karli and Nico were curious as to why was their friend was pushing for you.

“What’s gotten into you, Dovich? Why are you defending her?”

“Karli, she saved my life back in Germany. Her actions then spoke louder given she only met us for the first time.”

“She’s still loyal to her group. She’s loyal to the Avengers.” Karli continued to put down Dovich’s vouch for you. He then decided to change his tactics.

“I think she can be convinced to join our group. Imagine if she stood on our side, we would be unstoppable.” Karli looked up in interest as she considered the possibility of you fighting for their cause. Indeed, with your powers, the Flag Smashers would become a force to be reckoned with.

“That’s impossible.” Karli tried to reason with the fact that you were still with the enemy and you wouldn’t be turned so easily. She knew of your history and how you were loyal to a fault for Bucky Barnes. Would you so easily leave your friends to join them?

“She empathises with our cause. She said so herself.” Dovich added in finality, hoping that Karli could be convinced.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

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Your head was spinning from earlier events and you came back to the common room once you had a quick shut-eye upstairs. You could hear Bucky and Sam bantering about the same old topic on Steve’s shield.

You also heard Bucky’s comments about Walker and shook your head in disbelief at how inherently frustrating the man was. What could have been a successful peace talk with Karli was ruined by his brashness to display his authority.

The door burst open behind you and you looked over to see John coming in with Lemar, demanding for all of you to turn Zemo in. Sam took charge of the situation and put John in his place, stating he had been nothing but a thwart in your plans.

John being the arrogant pick he was tried to size up Sam, mocking him by saying he could put down the shield to make it fair for the both of them. You were fuming with the blatant disrespect that John was showing.

Before you could take another step, a familiar spear swooped in and lodged itself in the pillar near John. The familiar sounds of metal clanging let you know who was arriving and you saw familiar Dora Milajae members walking into the room.

Understanding the Wakandan words that were being spoken, you knew the Dora Milajae were here for Zemo.

John being the arrogant prick that he was, was proud to introduce himself as Captain America. An awkward silence ensued when they didn’t return a response. Sam tried to help John out by advising him that he should be careful to step on the Dora Milajae’s toes.

Ignoring Sam’s words, John went on to tell the Dora Milajae that they had no jurisdictions it had little effect when Ayo refuted his claims. Seeing John scoff before taking a step towards Ayo to place his hand on her shoulder, you immediately winced once Ayo swiftly knocked John down in three moves.

The scene in front of you unfolded quickly as John were quick to fight against the Dora Milajae and Lemar even stepped in to help his partner out. Seeing how the two men were hopelessly struggling with the warriors caused you to cringe in embarrassment.

“We should do something,” Sam said as he had the same sentiments as you.

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky commentated sarcastically with his arms crossed as if he was fine with how things were.

“Bucky….” Sam said in a nagging tone, as if Bucky was a child who did not want to do his chores. You looked over to give him a nod to say that Bucky should indeed step in before John really gets pummelled.

“Ayo, let’s talk about this”. Bucky stepped forward to intervene. Looking to the side, you saw one of the Dora aiming to give Lemar a blow before Sam stepped in. She managed to knock Sam down onto the couch and you knew it was your chance to step up.

You refused to use your powers with the Doras so you held your hands up to negotiate with them.

“Spare him, please.” You pleaded on Lemar’s behalf. The Dora withheld her weapon as she looked over you, recognising you from your Wakandan days. She left you

A sound of metal dropping caught your attention as you saw Bucky’s arm falling limply on the ground. His astonished expression accompanied by pain at Ayo’s disarm of his arm also brought you a shock.

In the midst of the chaos, you found that Zemo had disappeared. Ayo went to open the bathroom door and checked the room. She stated that Zemo was gone.

Ayo stated that their business was finished here and they would take their leave first. You helped Lemar up before walking over to Bucky who picked up his vibranium arm in disbelief.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked and Bucky shook his head in response. You bit your lips as you weren’t sure what to say.

In an attempt to comfort him, you reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze. Bucky was glad that your previous enmity towards him seemed to be gone and your interactions seemed to be back to normal.

“They were not even super soldiers.” Hearing John’s dismay at his utter defeat, you almost felt bad for him. Sam gave him a once over as John stood up, acting he was fine before leaving with Lemar.

The three of you left couldn’t believe Zemo made his grand escape even with all of you in the room.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The three of you were making your way out in search of Zemo until Sam received a call from his sister. Apparently, Karli called Sarah as a strong message to Sam. Karli threatened to involve Sam’s nephews if Sam didn’t do as she said.

Your head shook in disbelief, you believed Karli to be different. To hear that she was pulling such a tactic changed your initial opinion of her. Sam received a message to meet her alone but you and Bucky wouldn’t let him go in alone.

Once the three of you suited up, you all made your way to the location. Entering the open plaza in the building, Sam called for Karli and you saw her head popped into view. You all made your way to her level.

You let Sam approached her while Bucky and you put yourselves at the side. Sam called her out for trying to involve his family but Karli replied that she would never harm them. Her eyes moved to where you and Bucky stood, noting aloud that Sam didn’t come alone as intended.

Karli reiterated that she never wanted to hurt Sam and that he was just a tool in the regimes she vowed to destroy. Killing Sam would be meaningless to her.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. And maybe Y/N back there. Dovich has spoken highly of you.” Seeing your eyes widened in surprise at the offer, Karli smirked before continuing.

“You could do better than them. You would be welcomed and appreciated within our circle. I know of your loss, your grief with the rest of your original team gone. You can find purpose with us.” You stepped forward as if her words were drawing you in.

Sam and Bucky were at a sudden loss at your movement. They didn’t think you would even process Karli’s proposal and were curious to know what you were about to do.

“Karli, I resonate with your cause.” Your words took your friends by surprise. Were you really going to switch sides?

“But I don’t approve of what you did back at the depot. I thought better of you.” You expressed your stance on the matter. Karli scoffed before giving her reply. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your approval.”

“Shedding blood is never an option for me.” You stood your ground firmly.

“Fine, I admit my mistake. If you join us, I will make sure there would not be lives cost.” Karli tried to coat her words in favour of you.

She knew that she would do whatever was necessary for her to achieve her goals and even if it were to pretend to pander to your moral values, she was willing to give it a try if it meant she could have you switch sides.

Seeing your conflicted dilemma, Karli egged on. “Is it because of him?” She nodded back to Bucky. You looked over your shoulder to see him equally You looked at her with a perplexed look before she smirked once more.

“I read up about you. You came into his defence when he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. You revealed your powers publicly and that got you thrown into the raft. Ever since he has been pardoned, you had been with him all this time.” You didn’t know where Karli was going with this but her next sentence finally made you understood.

“This only means one thing. You like him, don’t you? He’s the one holding you back.”

“No! What are you talking about?” You spoke through gritted teeth at how she chose to play this out. How could she expose you like this? Your ears burned with embarrassment at the revelation that stunned both Sam and Bucky.

What was Karli implying exactly? Bucky looked over to see you visibly shaking in anger and he was taken aback by how Karli’s words affected you.

“Even now, I see the way you are looking at him. At how angry you are now? You mad that your secret crush is out in the open?” You looked up to see Karli’s smug face and you controlled your energy from bursting through your hands.

“Stop your bullshit. Don’t act like you know me!”

“Please, I am letting you know that he is not worth it. You would do so much better for yourself if you join our cause.” Karli retorted and you hated how she acted like she knew what was best for you when she barely knew her.

Sam always had an inkling that there could be more from your relationship with Bucky but he kept silent on the matter out of respect. He knew that it was best to leave you figuring things out on your own.

He recalled how he had caught you and Bucky in an intimate moment back in the club at Madripoor and figured you two were more than it seemed on a friendship level.

Seeing Karli use such an approach to almost taunting you in the context of persuasion didn’t sit well with him. His inner big brother wanted to come out to defend you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was appalled to learn of everything from your exchange with Karli. Was it possible that you had liked him all this while?

When he talked to you about Madripoor earlier, he remembered your pained expression when he tried to void what happened between the two of you.

Was it because you were hurt by his denial? He must have sounded like the world’s biggest jerk. If you really liked him, he would imagine you being heartbroken from what he had said.

“He is worth everything.” Your very statement made Bucky looked back up in shock. No way would he ever thought you would like him in that way. He thought you were just being the kind-hearted and empathetic person that you always are to follow a guy like him.

Quick flashbacks came to him as he realized that you had always been by his side from breaking free of HYDRA to being on the run, following the Avengers civil war, his time in Wakanda, the fight with Thanos, Steve's leaving, his pardon after the Blip and up to now.

It dawned upon Bucky that he had taken you for granted. If you were gone right now, he could only imagine that he would possibly go the deep end.

“He is the most important person in my life and you don’t get to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him.” You asserted with renewed confidence. You figured while this situation wasn't ideal, it was the moment you had to tell your truth.

Looking back, you met Bucky with a small smile.

Bucky’s heart soared at what you had just said. To be regarded as your most important person was the thing that he never knew he needed.

You knew that your words inadvertently had answered the pressing question on Bucky’s mind. Karli knew she had failed to get to you after the answer and decided to lose her shot with you.

You hear Sam picking up something on his comms, stating that it was Walker. Karli was alerted and decided to make a move first. Bucky immediately jumped off as soon as he saw Karli doing the same.

You lifted yourself off and saw Sam knocking Karli over before he turned to Bucky, telling him that he would send him the location. You didn’t have time to say anything to Bucky, he only gave you a look of understanding before you both knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Sam nodded to you before you did the same and you followed him as he took off.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You sent a blast towards the glass ceiling before you and Sam landed in the building. A crash was heard next when you recognised Dovich to be the one that was crashing. You looked to see John walking into view and your mind scrambled to analyse what was going on.

Dovich went ahead to use a metal pipe against John, but John pushed back and even bent the pipe into half like a rubber hose.

“Oh shit,” Dovich uttered before John sent him flying to where you stood. As Dovich looked up at you, you eyed him to go and heard Sam speak up.

“What did you do?” John didn’t answer the question and informed that the Flag Smashers had Lemar. Growing a soft spot despite your brief interaction, your heart dropped when you realised that Lemar was in danger.

John went ahead first before Sam followed behind. You placed your hand on Sam’s arm to pause for a moment, looking at Sam anxiously.

“Sam, I think he took one of the serums.” He nodded grimly at your words, indicating that he shared the thought too.

The two of you followed John where you were all ambushed by a member of the Flag Smashers. All of you tried to fend yourselves and you soon see Bucky joining the scene.

You were met face to face with Dovich. You gave him a look that said you were reluctant but had no choice to fight him.

He took you on and you tried your best to avoid his quick moves. You shot multiple non-fatal blasts at him to knock him over. He was doing his best to keep up with the speed at which you were throwing your blasts.

In the next split second, you sent two direct blasts to his chest that knocked the wind out of his chest. The following moment, you heard a loud collision and you looked to see Lemar crashed against a stone pillar.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you realised what had just happened. Lemar’s head fell slightly as you saw him lost consciousness. John immediately walked over to his partner and repeatedly tap him to wake him up.

You swallowed heavily as seconds passed and Lemar had no reaction. John called Lemar’s name over and over to no avail. You see John looking back his shoulder and directing his line of sight on you.

“Do something!” He cried out to you. You were at a loss for words as you didn’t know what he wanted you to do. You looked over to see Sam and Bucky equally stunned at what had occurred.

“I read your file. You brought someone back to life before!” You knew what John was referring to but you didn’t know if it could even work.

“I can’t, my powers don’t work like that-” Your powers came from your life force so you were able to transfer it to someone to regain theirs. However, you only did it once and it was because someone was dying of hypothermia. It was a different situation from Lemar’s.

“Please! I’m begging you! He’s everything to me!” John’s desperate plea touched you, knowing that he had said similar words to what you had said before about Bucky. You understood his plight and made quick steps to where he was.

Everyone looked upon the scene as you crouched down to your knees. You gave John a wary look before you brought your hands to Lemar who was lying in John’s arms.

Summoning your energy into your palms, you placed them on Lemar’s chest as if you were using a defibrillator. You pumped several sets of energy into Lemar while John patted him for a reaction.

When Lemar still showed no signs of life, the look of defeat on John’s face broke your heart. Tears start welling in your eyes as you looked at Lemar’s lifeless body. You saw Karli and her group starting to make a run for it.

Sam and Bucky made a chase for her immediately. John handed Lemar over to you before he sprinted for the window in front of you.

You could see the look of vengeance on his face and knew it didn’t bode well. You gently laid Lemar on the ground before waving your hand with your energy flames and placed it on where his heart was.

Rest in peace.

Your energy flames dissipated into his uniform and you stood up to follow behind John. You managed to catch him chasing after one of the Flag Smashers ahead of you. He was throwing his shield with brute force to knock the guy on his feet. You saw how the man was pleading for his life, claiming that he was not the one who killed Lemar.

John placed a foot to hold the man who was flailing his arms desperately. In a blink of an eye, he brought down the very shield that was used to protect people onto the man.

“NOOOOOOO!” You cried out in an attempt for John to stop his actions but it was too late.

Your eyes widened in unbelievable shock at what just transpired. When John lifted up the shield, you saw the blood that stained the legacy of the shield- Steve’s legacy.

You turned to see that a crowd was formed and people held out their phones to record what had happened. It didn’t sit well with you to know that in a matter of seconds, the whole world would also be watching this horrific scene too.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius @archaeoheart @idiotinnit @anxious-stitcher @lindseyrae20 @mads-weasley

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #beautiful pain #angstsfordays #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes

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miraculouswolf99 · 4 years ago

Text

Breaking Into The Watchtower Part 2

Part 2, and the final part, of my Miraculous-Justice League crossover. Prepare for a long one, readers.

*****

After recharging, the masked teens all gathered back in front of the heroes. Since the ones that had used their powers had to recharge, their power effects lifted from Dr. Fate and Superman. It allowed both heroes to be free once more. The Justice League and Young Justice all returned to their seats. If Wonder Woman was honored to meet them, then they should hear them out before deciding what to do with them.

The group was about evenly split to be on either side of who seemed to be the leaders of their group. The ladybug and butterfly girls as well as the wolf and black cat boys.

“Introductions would certainly be the best way to start,” the ladybug girl said. “My name is Ladybug and I am one of the leaders of the Miraculous hero team of Paris. Right next to me is my partner, Cat Noir.”

The black cat boy nodded at the heroes.

“My name is White Wolf and I am the co-leader of the Miraculous team along with Cat Noir, Ladybug, and my partner Beautifly,” the wolf boy motioned to the butterfly girl when he mentioned her.

“Pleasure,” she nodded to the heroes like Cat Noir.

“With us are all of our team members,” Ladybug motioned to the rest of the heroes. “To my right is Vulpix, Emerald Shell, Queen Bee, Tigress, Lady Unicorn, and Shadow Cat.”

“To my left is the rest of our team,” White Wolf says. “Viperion, Ryuko, Ocean Mage, King Monkey, Gladiator, and Bunnix.”

All of the other heroes nodded when they were introduced.

“For three years, Paris has been terrorized by a terrorist known as Hawkmoth and as have come to personally ask for your help,” Beautifly says.

Ladybug then stepped forward and took the yo-yo off of her wait. She opened it and typed in a few commands. A hologram appeared out of it, like the holographic screams and projectors that the league uses. Ladybug put her yo-yo on the ground so that the others could use their weapons/communicators to control the images that are seen. Cat Noir took out his staff and used it to punch in a command. The hologram then showed images of a few of the miraculous. The most well-known ones, such as the ladybug and black cat as well as the moth/butterfly.

“The miraculous are an ancient set of jewelry enchanted and bonded to gods known as the kwami,” Ladybug explains. “Each piece, along with the kwami that it is bonded to, represents a specific aspect of magic. Creation, destruction, illusion, protection, and more. But that is specifically the miraculous of ancient China, where most of our miraculous come from.

“The miraculous that are used by myself, Beautifly, Tigress, and Gladiator use miraculous that originate from ancient Greece,” White Wolf says. “Our representations are more general but also more specific at the same time. Mine represents Winter’s Hope, as in the hope that comes when you know and hope about how the frost protects the earth before it gives way to the flowers of spring. Beautifly’s represents Spring Love, coming from the original belief of flowers and Spring being associated with love.”

“My miraculous comes from the mystical creature miraculous, where each represents a magical creature and what their core is all about,” Ocean Mage said. “Mine is the miraculous of the mermaid.”

The Justice League paid close attention to what the group was saying. Most of Young Justice was looking at Kid Flash, who was glaring at the teen heroes. He was probably itching to yell at them that “magic wasn’t real” because of his extreme disbelief in it. But the Flash was next to him and making sure that he did not let his former sidekick’s delusions interrupt the Miraculous Team.

“So, it would be a magical threat, right,” Aqualad guessed. “That would be the only reason why the miraculous would be called into action, correct?”

“Exactly,” Beautifly answered the Atlantean.

Cat Noir punched in a command into his baton and the hologram changed. It now showed an image of Hawkmoth.

“He looks like a Mexican wrestler reject,” Red Hood said.

Most of Team Miraculous had to hold their hands over their mouths to stop them from bursting into laughter and ruining their aura of seriousness.

“This is the terrorist that we have been fighting,” Cat Noir says. “He showed up about three years also, almost four. He has been using the stolen butterfly/moth miraculous in order to turn unsuspecting people into superpowered villains.”

“How can he do that,” Flash asked, curious. “What exactly is the power of his miraculous?”

“The power is originally known as Empowerment,” Cat Noir said. “The miraculous are not meant to be used for evil, so Hawmoth has turned the power into Metamorphasis. He uses it to sense those that are feeling intense negative emotions and takes advantage of them in order to turn them into his villains. Anger, sadness, betrayal, heartbreak, anything negative.”

“His goal has remained the same for the entire time that he has been active,” Viperion says. “He desires to obtain the ladybug and black cat miraculous.”

“What is it about those two that he specifically wants them above all the others,” Black Canary asked them.

“The ladybug and black cat are the most powerful of the ancient China miraculous,” Ryuko tells the league. “They’re the complete opposite of each other with the ladybug being creation and good luck while the black cat is destruction and bad luck. When you combine them, the person wielding them is given the power to bend reality in order to make a wish.”

“So this guy is terrorizing your city just to make a single wish,” Green Arrow raised an eyebrow.

“Must be something that can not be obtained any other way or he is just really desperate for a quick solution,” Red Arrow said.

“If it was a simple wish, there would not be much of an issue,” Ladybug says. “But because the ladybug and black cat need each other to balance the other, the wish itself would also require balance.”

Viperion was the one to put in the next command. How he was able to do that with a harp, none of them ever asked. Three more images appeared, replacing Hawmoth’s. Pompeii, the Black Plague, and even the Salem Witch Trials.

“All of these things were caused by a wish,” Superman sounded skeptical.

“There are many examples of magic throughout history,” White Wolf says. “You just have to know where to look.”

Vulpix took his turn to speak. He used his flute to point at specific images when he was talking about them.

“In Pompeii, someone wished for their family to not be killed by disease,” Vulpix said. “But that ended up causing a volcano that wipes out a majority of the city and most of its population. A man’s wife was sick and he wished for her illness to go away. But then the illness spread since it left one person and turned into a plague. Last was a miraculous holder that was deeply afraid of being discovered and wished to never be accused of using magic. But then dozens upon hundreds of innocent people were convicted and executed during the witch trials.”

“The balance is why the wish is so dangerous,” Emerald Shell says. “Everything that is wished for usually ends in disaster. Even those with pure intentions are not spared. But since Hawkmoth definitely is planning on using the wish, it is either for something extremely wrong or just extremely selfish. Either would end in hell on Earth.”

“It’s so hard to believe that a wish could do all of that,” Black Lightning was shocked.

“Magic does that,” Beautifly says. “It makes the impossible turn possible.”

“If it is the miraculous of ancient China that Hawkmoth wants, why not use the others you have access to,” Red Tornado asked. “It is the logical choice to keep the miraculous that he desires out of his reach. You do have access to the ancient Greek miraculous, given White Wolf, Beautifly, Gladiator, and Tigress.”

“We wish it was that simple,” Lady Unicorn said.

“The problem is that the powers of Hawkmoth’s miraculous can only be undone by the ladybug miraculous,” Ladybug says. “And since the ladybug and black cat have to balance each other, both have to be active at the same time or neither of them can be active. I am the only one that can purify his akumas and then fix all the damage that they cause with my Miraculous Cure.”

Queen Bee typed a command into her top. A video replaced the images of the disasters that the wish caused. The video was from the Ladyblog and it was of the first akuma attack. It showed Ladybug casting her first-ever cure and everything being fixed by it.

“This was only the first of Hawkmoth’s attacks,” she said.

“There is also the added issue that the Greek miraculous also have a wish tied to the most powerful ones,” White Wolf says.

“They do,” Wonder Woman did not know about the Greek miraculous since neither she nor any other Amazon came into contact with them.

“As we have said, the wolf and butterfly miraculous are each themed by elements of Winter and Spring,” White Wolf says. “So you know that would leave the other two seasons. Those two exist in the power of Summer’s Heart for the songbird miraculous along with the Wildness of Autumn for the panther miraculous. Combining all four seasons gives the same wish ability as the combined ladybug and black cat.”

“But there is still the balance issue even with a different set of miraculous,” Tigress added. “Magic always comes at a price. That is the universal law of magic.”

The Justice League all nodded, most of them understanding the price that could come when you use magic. The Young Justice team remembered Zatanna explaining her powers to them when she had first met them. She had said that the power of her spells usually has to come from within, meaning that the more powerful spells would seriously drain her energy. Plus, there is also the known fact that Dr. Fate was never controlled by who wore the helmet. They were like a coat that the lord of order would put on in order to be active. Zatara was still in there but the price he paid was only being able to see his daughter once a year.

“So, what exactly is it that you need from us,” Batman asked the teens.

He was surprised to have heard about the villain in Paris before. Sure, he rarely ever left Gotham unless it was an international emergency, but this was a serious problem. If this villain, or any villain, got their hands on the miraculous, it would be a complete hell on earth. Lord knows what disaster would happen if the Joker made a wish.

“We actually have been requesting help for years,” Queen Bee glared at the league. “Ladybug has called, Cat Noir has called, even the mayor of Paris has called. You all brush us aside and have even told us to stop calling the League to trick them with ‘such an unrealistic prank.’ It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

“While Queen Bee could have been a bit more diplomatic, she is correct,” Ryuko says. “The miraculous are not so unrealistic when you have magic-users like Zatanna as a part of the League while also having Dr. Fate, whose helmet inhabits a lord of order that possesses whoever wears the helmet. That is not unlike the miraculous, only slightly different.”

Guy Gardner looked particularly embarrassed by that. That made the rest of the league realize who had been ignoring their calls for help, waving it off as a prank. You would think that someone with a powerful piece of jewelry himself would believe in the miraculous.

“As much as it pains us to admit, we no longer know what to do,” Cat Noir says. “Hawkmoth has been growing in power ever since Heroes Day almost two years ago. That was also the first time that his partner revealed herself.”

Vulpix was the one that typed in the command this time, into his flute. The hologram changed to show Mayura. The elegant woman looked even more dangerous with her fan allowing only access to her deadly gaze.

“This is Mayura,” Emerald Shell said. “She appeared on Heroes Day and foiled the closest time that the team had ever come to defeating Hawkmoth. She wields the peacock miraculous, which grants the power of Emotion, which allows her to make inanimate objects into guardians. Only they are now called sentimonsters. They are a monster created by a person’s negative emotions just like Hawkmoth’s akumas. While she is not as common as Hawkmoth, the two of them do combine their powers to give akumas a powerful allie.”

Emerald Shell typed in a command and pictures of some of her sentimonsters appeared around the image of Mayura. The moth creature that she usually gives Hawkmoth, Refleckdoll, the lollypop monster, and Feast.

“Why does she not appear as often as Hawkmoth,” Martian Manhunter asked.

“From our own research, and from what our kwami have told us, the peacock miraculous is broken,” Ladybug says. “In an effort to repair itself, it takes away the energy and life force of the person using it. Each time that Mayura transforms, she is risking her life.”

“You think she would actually risk her life just for Hawkmoth to succeed,” Captain Atom asked.

“Mayura has shown to be loyal to a fault,” Shadow Cat said. “The fault being that she is loyal to Hawkmoth. We also suspect that whoever she was had also allowed herself to be akumatized into Catalyst on Heroes Day in order to give Hawkmoth the needed power-up that he needed to do what he did.”

“What exactly did he do,” Green Lantern (John) asked.

“Catalyst gave Hawkmoth a power boost that he used in order to use his power on a massive level, allowing him to become Scarlet Moth,” Beautifly says. “He akumatized almost everyone that had previously been victimized by him. Dozens of his akumas flooded the streets while more of his akuma waited for others to feel negative emotions to infect them as well if they were not under the control of the mind-controlling akumas like Darkblade or Queen Wasp.”

Queen Bee shifted a bit at the mention of her second akuma form, but she got her composure back quickly.

“Hawkmoth had been able to accomplish that when he used a previous akuma to create an illusion of Ladybug being akumatized and killing Cat Noir,” Gladiator said. “All those people feeling the same negative emotion of fear and hopelessness was what allowed him to akumatize so many people at once.”

He typed in a command and the image of Mayura and her sentimonsters were replaced by a clip of what had happened during the parade played.

“And ever since Heroes Day, Hawkmoth has been getting a lot worse,” White Wolf says. “His akumas used to be a lot easier and were relatively harmless to even those affected by them. Like Princess Frangrance only hypnotized those that smelled her perfume and Silencer only took people’s voices. But then you compare that to Syren and Stormy Weather, both have caused natural disasters. Hawkmoth is getting deadly in his desperation for the miraculous.”

He typed in a command and the image changed to show the range of akuma that have happened over the years. Harmless ones like Mr.Pigeon, deadly ones like Queen Of Hearts, and natural disaster ones like Syren.

“We can deal with the akumas,” Ladybug says. “But with Hawkmoth constantly sending them out, we have no time or energy to put toward finding him and taking him and Mayura down for good.”

“Do you have any suspects,” Nightwing asked.

“We had a promising suspect in fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste,” Ocean Mage said. “He lives a secluded life away from people, butterflies are pretty common in a lot of his designs, and there was also that a lost grimoire had also been found in a secret vault by his son.”

“But we had to cross him off the suspect list when he was akumatized,” Tigress says. “But even our only suspect for Mayura puts him right back in the suspect pool.”

“You mean his assistant, right,” Red Robin was looking at the holographic screen over his glove, same as Oracle. “Nathalie Sancoeur.”

“She had had multiple doctor’s appointments ever since this Heroes Day you told us about,” Oracle continued for him. “And every time it is for the same thing. Dizziness, fatigue, constant headaches, and multiple coughing fits.”

“Yes, she is his assistant,” Shadow Cat answered. “She has also shown that she is incredibly loyal to Gabriel no matter how inhumane the things that he wants his son to do are. His diets and constant photoshoots should never be given to a teenager.”

“He also has a motive,” Cat Noir looked to be the most reluctant out of all of them on this topic. “Gabriel Agreste’s wife vanished about six months before Hawkmoth appeared and many assume that she is dead by now. He could desire to use the wish to either bring her back or to bring her back to life. Either would probably cause the balance to cause something horrible to happen.”

“If you suspect those two, do you also suspect Agreste’s son, as well,” Red Robin asked.

“That is the thing that we want to avoid,” Shadow Cat says. “Most of us know his son or have met him because he was targetted by an akuma. Adrien is known as the Sunshine of Paris. There is no way that he is involved even if those two are behind it.”

“We also do not want it to be true because that would also mean that Mr.Agreste put his own son in danger by sending akumas after him,” Lady Unicorn added. “It would also mean that Adrien would probably have his life destroyed if those two really are behind the attacks.”

“I am sure that he would greatly appreciate you all standing up for him,” Wonder Woman smiles at the teen heroes.

Robin had been staring at the group the entire time. He was not only the only blood son of the world’s greatest detective, but he also had a trained assassin’s eye. He noticed things that others didn’t. Like there was an unspoken bond and closeness between the black cat boy and the wolf boy. The other obvious couples seemed to be the horse and tiger girls as well as the dragon girl and snake boy. The fox and turtle boys were also definitely together.

“Is there anything else,” Superman asked.

The teens shared a look with each other. It seemed that this part was probably something that they had discussed before. Ladybug nodded to Cat Noir. He typed in a command and the image of a civilian girl appeared.

“Why does this girl have sausages on her head,” Red Hood asked.

Most of Team Miraculous did not even try to hold in their laughter this time. But they had to soon get back their composure since this was a very serious situation.

“This is Lila Rossi, daughter of an Italian diplomate,” Ladybug said. “She has been akumatized almost fifty times. She is mostly akumatized as Volpina, which is a poor copy of Vulpix and his powers. But she also has been akumatized into Chameleon, which is an akuma that can shapeshift into anyone or anything that she kisses, as well as Miracle Queen, which can create illusions that can hypnotize people. We believe that she is working for Hawkmoth since Volpina is the only akuma that could have created the illusion on Heroes Day.”

“Why does that make her a suspect,” Green Arrow asked.

“Because I didn’t purify Volpina’s akuma that day,” Ladybug says. “And since Hawkmoth had to akumatize another person into Catalyst after the illusion that was created, that meant that she was akumatized and didn’t tell anyone.”

“There is also that the mayor’s daughter, Chloe Bourgeois, sent us this,” Queen Bee types in a command.

Next to the image of Lila appeared a video that was obviously taken on a cell phone while a person was hiding. It showed Lila running toward an akuma and literally jumping up to snatch it out of the air. She then placed the akuma into the necklace that she was wearing and actually smirked as a glowing butterfly outline appeared over her eyes.

“Because of Chloe’s previous reputation of being a bully and a spoiled brat that likes getting others into trouble, she knew that only we would actually believe her when she gave us this video,” Ladybug says.

“There is also the fact that Lila is a pathological liar that puts on a sweet and innocent front that makes it almost impossible for people to see her as the horrible person that she really is,” Emerald Shell of all people basically growled.

“Lila has spent years telling tall tales about being Ladybug’s best friend,” Vulpix said. “As well lies about musicians like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, comic book artists like the writers of the Miraculous Adventures comic, fashion designers like Style Queen and MDC, as well as Adrien Agreste himself. Anyone that has ever called her out has had their lives ruined.”

“More research into her revealed that at every single school that Lila has ever attended, there has been either a suicide, a deadly accident, or a person getting greatly injured,” Viperion says. “All of them have been about kids that were once popular and loved, but their lives went to hell once Lila attended their schools.”

“You believe that this Lila girl is behind all of these things,” Superboy asked.

“We connected everyone that we could that was connected to her past victims,” Gladiator said. “They all said the same thing, that Lila came to the school with tales of grand adventures and their friend or child realized that she was lying. Then she would start whispering lies about these kids to all of her loyal listeners. She would make up stories about them bullying her, threatening her, stealing from her, talking behind their backs, anything that she could think of.”

“She would turn everyone that she could against them,” Ocean Mage crossed his arms. “Friends, teachers, principals, even family. There were those that killed themselves over the bullying they received, but it was actually worse for those that were too strong for that. Lila would then either cause an accident that would kill them or injure them in a way that broke them even further.”

“Take a look at this,” Tigress made an image appear of a kind-looking boy that looked to be from Spain from the background of the image. “This is Mateo Santiago. He went to the same school as Lila when she was in Spain. He was once a popular boy that had a gift for singing. He won countless youth singing contests all over Spain. When he heard Lila’s tales, he did his research and found her to be a liar. But just like all the others, she turned everyone but his family against him. But Mateo remained strong and did not let her or anyone get to him, confident because of how much he performed in front of others. So, Lila took that away from him.”

“See, Mateo was allergic to fish,” Beautifly took over the story. “It gave his throat a bad reaction, so he stayed away from it to keep his vocal cords safe. But one day, Lila managed to get into his locker and pour fish sauce all over his lunch salad. So when lunch came, he had an allergic reaction. He was taken to the hospital and the procedure that saved his life also damaged his vocal cords. He would be mute for the rest of his life. All of that because he knew Lila was a liar and tried to expose her.”

“Lila has been trying to do the same in Paris as well,” White Wolf says, making an image of a Chinese-French girl be exchanged for Mateo’s. “This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lila’s latest victim. See, Marinette is a fashion design hopeful and has already designed for those like Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Adrien Agreste, and even been noticed by Style Queen herself for a simple hat. Since she has her own connections, she knew right away that Lila was a liar.”

“You may notice from any research that you do that Vulpix, Emerald Shell, and Lady Unicorn have not always been those that wield the fox, turtle, and horse miraculous,” Cat Noir says, making images of three previous holders appear next to Marinette’s picture. “This is Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Pegasus. They were the previous holders of those three miraculous.”

“Did something happen to them,” Red Arrow asked.

“Lila happened,” King Monkey crossed his arms. “These three used to be friends of Marinette’s. Especially Rena and Carapace. But then Lila came along and Marinette tried to expose her. Lila managed to sway half of Marinette’s class into being her attack dogs to attack Marinette even if Lila looks even the slightest bit upset.”

“Marinette is a sweetheart,” Shadow Cat added. “She was the class president, got some of the best grades in her class, does charity work, babysits, helps her parents in their bakery, and has always bent over backward to help others. But Lila took most of that away with her lies. She probably would have destroyed Marinette if not for her having loyal friends.”

“Marinette has been the victim of physical, mental, and emotional bullying for years because of Lila,” Cat Noir looked ready to hiss. “But she remains positive the entire time. She’s transferred classes, has gotten a new phone number, and even uses a secret identity when she designs to keep Lila from claiming her designs as her own.”

“Lila has also chosen to act as a spy for Gabriel Agreste,” Ladybug’s fists were clenched tight. “She has used her lies to get close to him and he uses her to try and separate Adrien from ‘bad influences.’ Which is basically just Lila using more lies to try and isolate Adrien so that he would only have her. Adrien actually stays away as best she can, especially since she is sexually harassing him, but his father always gives them photoshoots together. She constantly threatens him by saying that with one word, Adrien will be back under house arrest by his father no longer letting him leave the house.

“Between her causing akumas, being akumas, Hawkmoth, and Mayura, we need help,” Beautifly says. “There must be something that you can do to help us.”

The league all shared looks with each other. These heroes have obviously been doing a great help if Paris is still standing, but they also look so tired and in dire need of their help.

“We’ll help,” Robin tells the heroes before the league actually answered.

#crossovers are the best #CrossOver #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #original character #original heroes #original miraculous #lila salt #i hate lila rossi #i love salt #alya salt #nino salt #ml salt #part 2 electric boogaloo

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mai-sau · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

#this was also my first go at writing more humor #but the hurt/comfort managed to sneak in #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #my writing #writing prompts #fic #jaz-the-bard

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hyenahunt · 3 years ago

Text

Beast Survival - 7

Writer: Nishioka Maiko

Season: Summer

Proofreading: royalquintet (JP & ENG)

Jun: Well, there'd be no point to fishing if that were the case. The real thrill comes from how it's a showdown between man and fish, doesn't it?

[Location: Beach]

Jun: First, cast your line into the sea... And then all we've gotta do is wait for a fish to take the bait. Easy, right?

Aira: Wha, we're starting already!?

...Um, so I cast my line — hiyah! Like this?

Jun: Yep, just like that. All that's left for us is just to be patient and wait.

Aira: Gotcha~ ♪ Oh ravely lil' fishies, dear lil' fishies ♪ C'mon and meet me already~

Y'know, I never realised just how convenient fishing gear was. Whoever first came up with it is amaaazing ♪

Jun: It's really not something you'd notice unless you're in this situation, huh. I'm sure there's loads of other convenient things we've always taken for granted.

Aira: It'd be even more convenient if we had fishing gear that was completely automatic, though~

Jun: Well, there'd be no point to fishing if that were the case. The real thrill comes from how it's a showdown between man and fish, doesn't it? It'd be pretty boring if we didn't have to lift a finger for it, yeah?

Aira: Hmm? Sazanami-senpai, have you gone fishing before?

Jun: Sure have~ Just a few times when I was real small, though.

I was super happy when I made my first catch. You can't afford to be careless when you're reeling in a fish, and that feeling of tension really hooks you in.

Aira: Ooh~ Sounds like it might actually be pretty fun! Wonder if I can reel one in soon myself~

Jun: Not just yet. Fishing's also a real test of patience, y'know~ It starts from when you're wondering if you'll even catch one or not.

Well, since this is kinda our last resort I've got no intention to lose my catch, of course.

— Ahh, I see. Maybe this is just how hyenas feel, actually...

They don't even know if they'll find any prey, and even if they do they can't be sure they'll catch 'em without a hitch. It's a given they'd go all out with desperation.

Aira: We're just as desperate now too, aren't we~

We ran into some obstacles at first, and did have our regrets, but I'm glad it seems like it's doing good for getting you into character!

Jun: For real, though. We've realised just how important it is to find food and a place to sleep, or kinda like... I feel like I'm getting an idea of just how harsh life would be after getting exiled from your own kingdom...

Aira: Hehe. Well then, let's make sure we return victorious from this trial ♪

✦✦✦✦✦

[Location: Starmony Hall Courtyard]

Leo: With a heave! And a ho! And out they go! Can I leave all the veggies I've gathered here?

Tatsumi: Ahh, yes. Leaving them there should be no problem. I've collected some firewood here, too.

This may be breaking a few of your rules, but just in case, I borrowed some sleeping bags as well.

Leo: Wahahaha ☆ We were supposed to be getting a taste of savannah life, but now it's more like we're going camping~

With all this, it might be pretty different from animal life. But hey, we're having fun so who cares!

Tatsumi: Perhaps I wouldn't wholly agree with that. In the very same way that beasts live by tooth and claw, humans make use of fire and tools to survive, after all.

I do believe the ability to make and use tools is a special talent of mankind.

Leo: Yeah! I think so, too!

But what Nami~'s tryna do is become a hyena, though~ That kinda complicates things, right?

Tatsumi: Heheh. It does, doesn't it? But I do feel that Jun-san's been overthinking it just a touch...

Ah, never mind me. There's no point discussing this while he himself isn't around for it.

On that note, I wonder how those two are getting on... Even if they don't catch something big, fishing up anything at all would be nice.

Leo: It'll be fiiine~ We're on the brink of starvation here, so we're all desperate! They're gonna come back with a heck of a catch, I just know it!

And if he doesn't, my stomach's gonna glue itself right up against my spine! I'm gonna turn all harp-shaped!

✦✦✦✦✦

[Location: Beach]

Aira: ......

Wehhh. I'm not catching a thing~! The bobber isn't moving at aaall!

Jun: Like I was telling you, fishing is all about patience. Not to mention if you shout so loud, you're gonna scare off all the fish, y'know?

Aira: Urgh. But just sitting like this and staring at the water is boring me outta my mind, and I end up remembering just how hungry I am~

Jun: Well, I totally feel you there. Doing nothing but waiting is reminding me of my own hunger, too. Let's see... We could take our minds off it for now by playing a game of Shiritori or —

Mm!? Shiratori-kun, it looks like you've got something on the line!?

Aira: Huh!? Wahhh! Y-you're right!? W-What should I do!?

Woahhh!? The line's pulling completely taut! It feels like I'm gonna get yanked right into the ocean—! Nghhh... Sazanami-senpai, save meee~!

Jun: Stay calm! Please make sure you stay right there and brace yourself, okay? I'm gonna help you out!

Aira: A-Alright—!

Jun: Wow, it's really pulling hard, huh...!

Okay, let's haul it up in one shot! Here goes! One, two, threeee—!

Aira: Hiyaaaaarrrghhh!

—I did it! I fished it up...

—Wait, huh......!?

Jun: ...I-It's a... broken umbrella?

Goddamn! Who the hell did this!? You're not supposed to dump trash in the sea!

Aira: Seriously! It even got my hopes up and all! I won't forgive 'em!

Ah, geez... And here I thought we'd hooked a big one~ ...Hmm?

Huh? It looks like this time there's something pulling on your rod, Sazanami-senpai?

Jun: Woah!? There really is!?

Jun: Damn, it's strong as hell...! Feels for sure this is gonna be something huge!

Aira: Dear God and Buddha~! Please let it be anything but another umbrella~!

Jun: Alriiight, here we goooooo—!

✦✦✦✦✦

[Location: Starmony Hall Courtyard]

Leo: Those two sure are taking their time~... It's been so long that even my tummy's stopped grumbling out music...

Tatsumi: Are you alright, Leo-san? They certainly are a little late...

Hm? Over there, is that...

Leo: Mom, Dad, my little angel Ruka-tan... Please forgive me for passing on first. The savannah was just too much for me...

Tatsumi: Leo-san, Leo-san. Please have a look over there.

Leo: ...Mm~? Whazzat? If it's a waste of time I'm gonna bite ya! Grrrrrr—!

Tatsumi: It's alright. It seems like it's good news for us ♪

Jun: Heeey~! Sorry to keep ya waiting~! We're back and managed to catch a big one~♪

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →

#jun sazanami #aira shiratori #leo tsukinaga #tatsumi kazehaya #enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #s: beast survival #era: !!#type: scout #status: complete #hyenahunttl

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jlsadphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

a map and a shovel (to my achilles’ heel)

The evolution of Emma and Killian’s thoughts for each other, told through the early events of their lives together. | 2/2 | AO3

KILLIAN

EMMA

because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same?

for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around

Tagging: @teamhook @lillpon @ownedbycaptainswan @inwordsthatnobodyknows1121

“Hey,” Emma starts, noticing a hand reaching out from a pile of bodies. “Hey, there’s someone under there!”

The man they pull out is thanking them, but there are alarms going off in her head. Something’s wrong, this doesn’t make sense. Their eyes meet, his eyes are fearful, yes, grateful as well, but just a bit calculating, too, and her instincts say there’s something more to him.

He sits at the table looking exhausted as Emma asks Mulan (shit, how was this her life, fucking Mulan) more. The story Mulan tells her about the man seems perfectly plausible, but, “Why would Cora leave a survivor?” It’s too messy for someone like Cora. So she offers him some water.

He starts to explain how he hid under the bodies to survive, but there’s something wrong. He’s — not lying, not completely, but Emma’d be damned if he’s telling the full truth. So she leans her elbows down on the table, bringing her head level to his, I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me, she keeps her voice even, calm, face sympathetic, until —

“I’m telling you the truth,”

Her lie detector goes off.

Got you.

He’s good, she has to admit as she plasters on a sympathetic smile for him, but not good enough. I can guide you —

Ha, not a chance.

So Emma grabs him by the hair, pulls out her knife, and puts it to his throat.

“You’re not gonna guide us anywhere until you tell us who you really are,” she really can’t help the bit of pride that swells up at the flash of surprise in the man’s eyes.

Just looking up at the beanstalk seems daunting. They had to climb that thing?

Whatever story you think you know, my dear, is most certainly wrong, has her scrounging her memory for what she remembered of Jack and the Beanstalk. Something with a cow, she remembered, and — was it a goose or a harp? Ah, she’s getting distracted, and Hook’s amused look and drawling voice really isn’t helping. Very bad form, he finishes his story.

“The treasure remains, and amongst it is the compass,” he says, focusing on her again, and really, why is he always speaking like she’s the only one in this group? “Once we get it, steal the ashes from her, then we’re on our way,” he finishes jovially.

“How do we know you’re not just using us to get the compass for Cora?” Mulan asks suspiciously, and really, Emma could become good friends with her, the way they easily agree.

Hook answers seriously, ‘cause you four are far safer company, clear of any deception. Good enough for now, she supposes, and suggests they start climbing. They’re wasting time sharing stories here.

Then Hook laughs a bit, says only he and one other can climb, and he is seriously getting on her last nerve, don’t be afraid to, y’know, really get into it, he grins, bouncing on his feet, looking completely delighted by this, and why did Captain Hook have to be gorgeous and not all perms and wax mustaches?

They move away from Hook, and she tilts her head back to peer up the beanstalk as the others argue. Damn, she can’t even see the top. How long would that take to climb? She absently hears them arguing over wars or something or another, and out of corner of her eye, she can see Hook trying to hide his impatience despite his earlier words.

The fact that she can relate to that irritation has her interrupting the others, because HenryHenryHenry; who cares about number of wars or who has more to lose when Henry is waiting for her? But she can’t trust Hook either, so she tells Mulan to cut the beanstalk down in ten hours if she’s not back down, makes her promise to bring Mary Margaret home.

Hook smiles cheekily at her, I was hoping it would be you, and she rolls her eyes as he puts the cuff around her wrist.

“I can’t climb one-handed, can I?” He protests, and begrudgingly, she gives him the hook, but, “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second,” she warns.

He simply smiles, I would despair if you did, and up they climb.

He’s talking.

She’ll ignore him, she will ignore him, she will ignore him, she will — “I’m concentrating,” Emma finally snaps.

“No, you’re afraid,” he says, and what? The hell does she have to be afraid about? “Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself,” he slows his climb to let her catch up to his side. “To trust me.”

Trust? Really? From him, of all people? “You should be used to people not trusting you,”

Hook only rolls his eyes, ah, the pirate thing, as if it was just some afterthought. You’re something of an open book, he tells her then, and Emma can’t help but pause, can’t help the faint amusement and curiosity, because she’s been called many things in life, but open book was definitely not one of them.

“Let’s see,” he starts, voice deceptively mild, “you volunteered to come up here because you were the most motivated, you need to get back to a child,” and Emma nearly scoffs, because he’s an eavesdropper, big surprise.

“Ah, but you don’t want to abandon him the way you were abandoned,” and still, his voice is casual, as though they were just talking about the weather, but Emma stills, because how could he know —

He looks away from her briefly as he explains something about Neverland, and Lost Boys, but she’s still scrambling to cover up whatever hell hole in her walls he managed to see past. The look you get when you’ve been left alone, but she didn’t come from Neverland, she’s not from some fairytale world despite what Henry says, she was just —

“But an orphan’s an orphan,” he continues. There’s something in his voice, but she won’t focus on it before this gets into more dangerous territory, but he doesn’t seem to notice, pushing on, love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it, and, have you ever even been in love, and no —

— nope no no no, absolutely not, she will not go there, will not think of her stolen bug, of stolen convenience store food, of a stolen keychain, of stolen moments in stolen motel rooms, of stolen watches, of a stolen future in a cold, empty jail cell with a positive pregnancy test, of two stolen years in —

No, she answers him, because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same? So she pushes ahead of the climb, resolutely ignoring his too perceptive gaze burning into her, focusing on the climb to run away from the memories that were threatening to resurface.

She starts to turn away from the giant, to head back to the beanstalk, compass in hand, but then, try something new, darling, is ringing in her ears, and she hesitates, glancing back at the pile of rocks Hook is trapped under.

She can’t trust him, she can’t, she tries to convince herself as she asks the giant to keep Hook trapped but unharmed for ten hours. Every instinct she has tells her that he can be trusted, that he hasn’t once lied to her. Every instinct says that she can take a chance on him, that they could be allies, friends, maybe —

No.

No, no, he’ll turn on her the first chance he gets, she tries to think rationally. But he’s grinning at her, pure exhilaration on his face, and he calls her brilliant and amazing, without any lie or underlying motive, and he stares down at the compass in awe, and she can’t help but think of how human he looks when he’s like this, so far removed from any fairytale or cocky pirate captain persona or the man who would go to any lengths for his lost love.

Hook reaches for the compass and doesn’t even look all that bothered when she pulls away, simply smiling and offering up his hand, eyes bright, face open, and come, let’s go, and she takes his hand but she can’t.

If she’s wrong about him, she could lose Henry, could lose her way to Storybrooke, he could leave her cold and empty and lost in some dead realm, reminiscent of a cold and empty jail cell, lost for two years in Tallahassee.

She stares back at his bright and open face, watches as he gives her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She has no reason to be wrong about him.

She closes the shackles around his wrist.

His face goes slack with the shock, and it has her up and scrambling back out of his reach.

What are you doing, the way his voice trembles in his attempt to stay calm only serves to make her feel worse, eyes falling away from him. Her voice fails her as she tries to explain, explain that — that he — that she can’t—

“Emma, look at me,” he pleads, “have I told you a lie?”

He hasn’t. Not since she called him out on the blacksmith act, since she put a knife to his throat, since she tied him to a tree, and left him to ogres until she heard him call out to her, good for you, irritated and a little sulky and just a bit of grudging respect.

He didn’t lie when he smiled down at her, I was hoping it would be you, didn’t lie when he called her an open book, when he bandaged her hand with his scarf with a no, it’s not, or when she pressed him about the name on his wrist, despite the way he had shut down fast, faster than anything else she had seen from him yet.

His voice is still calm as he tries to reason with her, why do this to me now, gaze steady, as though it can still be easily brushed aside if she just lets him go, but —

“I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you,” because despite what her instincts say, she refuses to take that step (refuses to try something new), and “I’m sorry,” because she is. But he turned so quick on Cora, he could do just the same to them, turn back to Cora with the compass, and —

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Hook pulls against the chain as he tries to move closer, voice furious. She’s shutting down, and fast. She can’t let him change her mind, she can’t take that chance, the chance she’s wrong, the chance of him betraying her, the chance of losing her way to Henry, the chance on him.

“And you’re not gonna die,” she refutes him, “I just need a head start, that’s all.”

And she’s turning away from him, walking back to the beanstalk, and he’s calling out to her, furious and desperate (betrayed, abandoned) but she won’t, she can’t look back, because —

She shuts her eyes against his shouts.

She leaves him behind.

(Because, despite her rationalizing, the more her instincts say he can be trusted, the more she wants to take that chance, to listen to her gut, to — to —

The more it terrified her. The more she needs to distance herself. What better way than to leave him in chains in some cold, empty room with a giant?)

The compass disappears from her hand, and appears in Cora’s as she stares gleefully at it.

No.

No, what — ?

Emma pushes uselessly at the cell gates as Cora thanks Aurora for her help.

Thanks Auro—?

What?

She turns on her, furious, how would you do this, but she registers belatedly that Aurora looks as bewildered as them, and Cora’s crooning voice only confirms this as she pulls out a red, pulsing, beating heart. “You took her heart?” She stares, horrified. This — this is what it means when Regina — when Graham — when —

“Actually, I did,” Hook corrected her, voice low. Emma turns to him then, having tried and failed to ignore him leaning casually against the wall, staring fixatedly down at his hook, “it was a gift.” He finally turns to face them. He doesn’t say anything more, face completely closed off in a way she hasn’t seen on him aside from when she had asked about Milah, doesn’t flinch as Cora clenches her fist, Aurora crumpling in pain, doesn’t move until Cora passes him, pushing off the wall to follow.

“Hook,” she tried, desperate. She can’t lose the compass, lose Henry. “Wait,”

He pauses.

She breathed shakily, a desperate, irrational swell of hope as he turns to face her. “Please don’t do this, my son is in Storybrooke, he needs me.”

He moved towards her then, slow, measured steps, and just from the look on his face she knows she fucked up. “Perhaps you should have considered that before you abandoned me on that beanstalk,” his tone low and dangerous.

She shakes her head because that — it’s not — because — you would’ve done the same, and she keeps her grip against the bars, keeps her voice cool and knowing.

“Actually no.”

It’s said flatly, just plain fact.

That — that can’t be right.

She left him behind before he could do it to her, before he could do what he’s doing now, except—

He’s pulling out a bean on some sort of necklace, and she reaches desperately for it, unsuccessful, and this is a symbol, dangling the bean just in front of her, “something that was once magical, and full of hope, possibility... Now look at it,” once again his voice is deceptive, mild and unassuming, and she follows his gaze. “Dried up, dead. Useless. Much like you,”

He’s walking away, Emma realizes with increasing panic. Is this how he felt?

Just as I’m done with you, is this revenge for the way she left him chained up on the beanstalk, helpless but to watch her retreating back? Fitting, she thinks dimly to herself, watching him walk away.

He did betray her, just as she thought (because she did it first), and she thinks of her way back to Henry, fading with each step Hook takes away from them, thinks dimly of trying to call out to him (just as he did to her), thinks dimly of what could’ve happened if she had trusted him, trusted herself, would she still have wound up here, thinks dimly of how flat Hook’s words were to her, how closed off, a complete turn from the start of their climb up the beanstalk, thinks I did this, I did that to him, I got us caught in this trap —

She thinks maybe she should have trusted him, but now she won’t get a chance to right that wrong, doesn’t even know if she would want to if she got the chance.

How could you not? You don’t believe in your parents. Or in magic. Or even yourself.

Goddamn Rumplestiltskin — Gold — whatever his name was now.

When have you ever taken a real leap of faith?

Because what they needed right now — when Henry was missing — was to separate.

You’re still just that bail-bonds person.

What the hell did he know, Emma thought bitterly, the burn in her muscles not doing anything to clear her mind. She paused a moment to catch her breath, pushing back the swell of frustration, the burning in her throat. Henry is missing. That’s the fact of the matter. This is no time to doubt herself, to —

“Aw, don’t stop on my account.”

Hook.

Of course. Because she needed more things on her mind, needed more questions she couldn’t find the answer to. “What are you doing?”

Getting ready for a fight, she manages to ground out, ignoring Hook’s quip, because like hell she would tell him that she was doing her own equivalent of a pep talk, of going through mindless, repetitive motions to try to clear her mind of Gold’s words, or tell him that she was starting to believe them, not because Gold had said it flat to her face, but because it was all already in her head.

And in what is starting to become a frustrating pattern, she doesn’t need to tell him anyway.

“Don’t let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love,” is said gently, free of any judgement, and dammit, how does he see through her so easily (open book), he had done it on the beanstalk, done it in Granny’s with a simple why are you really doing this, and the more time she spends in his presence, the more she understood the weight of her own words when Emma had told him you and I, we understand each other — God, was that just a couple hours ago?

“What do you want?” Because there was no chance she was going to go further with this. He pulls out a key as he starts to talk about Neal.

Yes, because an even better topic conversation with the man who can read her like no one else was her recently killed ex who she still has a shit ton of mixed and complicated feelings for.

Hook offers her a sword, then, a quiet this was his, has her looking up and taking a look at his face.

Emma might have a harder time understanding his particular motives right now, but she is not the only open book on this ship, she thinks, noting the way his eyes don’t meet hers, the way his head sways, the edge to his I’m not when she accuses him of being sentimental. What a terrible liar, she muses, trying to ignore the warm feeling starting to replacing the cold dread that Gold’s words had left.

“I just thought you could use it where we’re going, you know,” he hands her a shot glass, and Hook may be a terrible liar, but he’s certainly good at deflecting, she thinks, as he drawls out, “to fight.”

He pours her some rum, and somehow, the moment the glass was filled, she realizes that this was exactly what she needed. Not some pull ups to get ready for a fight, not to talk about her feelings with her parents, not pointless reassurances or empty promises and words. Just a moment to take a breath and process, free of outside influence. Thanks.

“To Neal,” Hook offers simply, and they toast and they drink and they sit in silence, and it is ridiculous how easy it is to be in his presence.

He comes with no expectations of who she should be, no underlying disappointment throughout every interaction when she is nothing expected, no pressure to be a lost daughter, or a mother who lost ten years with her son, or Neal’s ex, or some savior responsible for everyone’s happiness, or princess, or even a bail-bonds person.

With him, she simply is.

So she asks about Neal, because she can’t imagine him young and a teenager, playing pirate with Hook, because no matter how much he had broken her heart, how much just his name reminds her of the cold metal of a cuff around her ankle as she gave birth, or the cold metal of the watch on her wrist that night, being in Neal’s presence made her feel sixteen and recklessly in love again, and seeing him die made her wish for better closure, and being in Hook’s presence was easy and calming, and he was the only other person she knows who she could talk to about Neal.

(who she feels she could someday tell the whole story of her and Neal, without judgement or expectation or suggestions to forgive and forget)

Naturally, Hook sees right through her question, and true to form, as she is starting to learn, answers plainly and free of judgement or amusement or those stupid sympathetic looks that make her want to hit something. “Long enough to know I miss him, too.”

Their eyes meet. No more words are said, and it is quiet. The room is heavy. And it is easy.

“Hook,” David says as soon as he separates from Mary Margaret. “He saved my life.”

Emma’s heart skips a few beats, focusing sharply on David, trying to find any injuries.

“Are you sure you wanna tell them that, mate?” Hook asks him cautiously, but Emma is far too worried about the idea that those two were in any situation at all that called for someone’s life being saved. Are they alright, what happened?

“On our trek,” David starts, “we were ambushed by Lost Boys. Pinned down, outnumbered, but Hook — he risked his life to stop me from getting hit by a poisoned arrow.”

He what? Now she turns to look at Hook, but he shifts uncomfortably, looking away from them all, forcing up a short smile as David approaches. “If it wasn’t for Hook, I wouldn’t be alive. Your flask, please,” Hook seems to be able to meet only David’s eyes as he hands him the flask. I thought he deserved a little credit.

Only now does Emma’s heart slow down a bit, because just how close had she come to losing her friend — her father? Thank you, Hook manages, but still looks supremely uncertain and uncomfortable, even with the gratefulness softening it just a bit. They pass the rum about, but Emma can’t help but stare.

Once again he surprises her, and once again, she sees that honorable gentleman peeking out from underneath that cocky pirate captain persona. She saw it when he took her hand, insisting on bandaging it, when he had smiled at her, so bright and open, her heart had skipped a beat, saw it when he had put himself to pains to reach for Aurora’s heart, when he had so blatantly thrown their fight at Lake Nostos (No way did she beat a pirate in a sword fight when she had only held a sword for a week), saw it when he turned his ship around, gave her the bean with a simple, maybe I just needed reminding that I could, saw it below the decks of his ship when he offered her Neal’s sword and they drank a toast to his memory.

To Hook, she murmurs, taking a swig of the rum, before turning back to him as the others return back to their camp.

He is turned away from her completely, staring fixatedly on a tree, and the words come out before she can stop herself, “D’you really save his life?”

“Does that surprise you?” he asks, and he barely glances at her before turning back to the tree. She gives back the rum.

“Well, you and David aren’t exactly... how do you say it? Mates,” she mimics his accent, expecting a smirk or a small laugh.

Instead, he finally turns to face her, serious and honest, “Doesn’t mean I’d leave your father to perish on this island.”

Thank you, is all she can say to the sincerity in his eyes and voice.

A slow, teasing grin spreads across his face, and she knows he’s putting up an act, directing their conversation to something much lighter, but regardless, Emma feels the mood lighten almost immediately, feels herself start to feel just a bit giddy, giddy from speaking to Henry, from David and Hook making it back safe, despite the sextant, from the rum, from this man standing across her, who constantly keeps her and her expectations on its toes, who she’s felt connected to since they climbed the damn beanstalk and he revealed just a bit of himself when he tied that damn scarf with his damn mouth, and turned his ship around and offered his assistance in helping Henry when there was nothing in it for him.

Perhaps gratitude is in order now, he muses, tapping his lips with his finger, and she can’t help but return his teasing smile, because “Yeah, that’s what the thank you was for,” but he just makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat as he takes just another step forward.

“Is that all your father’s life is worth to you?” Hook asks, and that giddiness seems to swell just a bit more, because, he saved David’s life. He turned his ship around, gave her Neal’s sword, gives advice freely, directed them to Tinkerbell, showed them what plants are safe to eat and which to avoid, even with all the doubts the others throw his way, and all the while, he simply turns to her, smiles, calls her excellent, backs all her ideas, and never once does he seem to doubt her.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,”

He pops the t, the corner of his lips tugging up, and he stares at her with bright, open blue eyes, so so reminiscent of the look he had given her when she pulled him out of the rubble, calling her brilliant and amazing, and asking to see the compass, and offering his hand up to her.

She should leave.

She should walk away now, head back to David and Mary Margaret and Regina.

Oh, fuck it.

Her hands close around the collar of his coat, dragging him in for a kiss even before she could finish the thought. She keeps a death grip on his collar as the other winds up in his ridiculously soft hair, and his lips taste of rum and Neverland fruits, and he doesn’t move for a moment, far too surprised, before his hand comes up her own hair and he breathes in harshly through his nose and he responds, and oh.

Hook kisses the same way he does just about anything else; with everything he has. It has her burning, because he kisses like he’s challenging her, kisses like a drowning man taking a breath for the first time, kisses like she’s the sun and he hasn’t seen daylight in years, kisses like he’ll never kiss anyone again.

They separate, but their foreheads are pressed together, and she still has a death grip on his coat, and they are breathing harshly, and all she can think is, oh.

That was —

“That was...” and he sounds wrecked, stunned, as if he hasn’t just given her the best kiss of her life, and oh, oh, oh, oh no, but even with the growing panic, she feels good, and he feels good, and they feel good together, and —

A one-time thing, she forces herself to step away, to turn and head back into camp, and she makes the mistake of looking at his face, as stunned and wrecked as he sounds, brow furrowing at her words, and the words taste a bit wrong in her mouth, tastes like a lie, but it can’t be a lie, because there’s no chance she’s letting herself —

“Don’t follow me,” she instructs him, not letting herself look at him again, “Wait five minutes, go get some firewood or something.”

“As you wish,” he calls at her back, and the smile that spreads on her face is completely involuntary.

Her heart is still pounding, lips still burning, and she still feels so so good, for the first time since Henry was taken, she was in some semblance of a good mood, and he was the one to put it there, with his stupid easy faith, stupid smiles and compliments and suggestions, urging her to find a way to speak to Henry, and saving David’s life, and the stupid way he doesn’t even expect anything back, not even acknowledgement, and the stupid, goddamn way he kisses like his life depends on it, why the hell does he kiss like that.

What the hell made her think kissing him would be a good idea? She can panic about this later.

(She can still taste the rum and fruits.)

(She thinks maybe she really couldn’t handle it.)

The whole Neal thing isn’t enough to distract from the burn on her lips, the memory of those bright, open blue eyes, or the teasing voice, or that damn kiss, like Hook was breathing air for the first time.

“I kissed him,” Emma blurts out the moment she and Mary Margaret are out of earshot from David and Hook.

“What?” she asks, “Who?” As if there’s an abundance of options she has of people to kiss.

“Hook, I kissed Hook,” and the memory of his lips on hers are still so fresh, the taste of rum and fruits, that bright, giddy feeling he had managed to bring out of her still echoing in her chest, even as the thought of finding Neal makes her heart ache.

“Oh,” says Mary Margaret, voice high, with surprise or suspended judgement or maybe both, maybe neither, Emma doesn’t know, “Wh-why?”

Because he sees her and has no expectations for her, because he doesn’t lie to her, because of the way he had smiled at her, the teasing lilt to his voice, the easy faith he puts on her, because he came back and offered to help save Henry, saved David, and because they shared a drink, shared moments on the ship, on the beanstalk, in this damn island, because try as he might, he just can’t hide that gentleman underneath the selfish pirate persona.

I don’t know, she says instead, “I-I was — it’s been a while, I was feeling good —“

“Did it mean anything?”

Yes, she thinks instinctively, except she doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t even know why she brought it up, because it was a one-time thing, and, it was just a kiss, because it should have just been a kiss, but her voice is starting to pitch defensively, completely involuntary, and she can still feel the pull of his lips on hers, the taste of fruit and rum, and the way he had kissed like —

“I’m sure Neal will understand,” completely falters her thoughts, because the hell does Neal have anything to do wi—

Oh, right, they’re on their way now to rescue her apparently not-so-dead-ex, the father of her son, who she said I love you to right before he fell into the portal, and she had just told her mother she kissed another man. It must seem like Emma was worried about what Neal might think, which — No. “If he’s still alive,”

“Emma, I get what you’re doing, you know,” says Mary Margaret carefully, “you don’t wanna open yourself up the the hope that he’s alive, but you should,” completely stops her in her tracks.

Why, She stares at Mary Margaret, heart sinking.

She had wanted some closure from Neal, yes, she deserved that closure after all that he’s done to her, the memory of that damn alleyway, cuffs closing around her wrists, and months in a cell with nothing but a keychain, car keys, and a positive pregnancy test, the way she couldn’t even bear to look at her son after she gave birth because then she’d never be able to let him go, to give him a life he deserves, the two years in Tallahassee waiting, just waiting, had her building up her walls higher and thicker than when she had left the system.

But with Neal gone, Emma had thought she could finally let it go, move past that part of her life, could live without the constant worry she had lived with for years that she would see him again someday, except she did, in possibly the worst way, slamming into him in some New York alleyway, with him getting mad at her for bringing Gold to him, scoffing and dismissing her like she was still sixteen and he hadn’t set her up to take the fall fo his crime. No, then he followed he back to Storybrooke with a fiancée who wound up kidnapping Henry for Peter Pan, even as he and her parents had dismissed all her suspicions as some petty jealousy.

No, she wanted to get closure and move on. She wasn’t sixteen and in love with the cool, older guy who had understood her anymore. She didn't want to feel sixteen anymore. She wanted to feel at ease, like she feels around Henry and his endless faith and belief in everything, around Mary Margaret before things became so much more complicated, around Hook, of all people, when he offers her a drink, when compliments and praise slip freely from his lips but seems to expects nothing in return, when he is always so open and easy to read when they are alone, when he reads her unnervingly well, not needing her to speak her doubts before he replaces it with that easy faith and a small smile.

“Because you deserve a happy ending, Emma,” Mary Margaret turns to face her, earnest, “and happy endings always start with hope,”

But what did it mean if the only hope she feels regarding Neal is the dark, grim hope that this was just a trick?

“I thought Emma would wish to have something to remember you by,” Hook’s voice is terse.

“Oh, thanks, but she’s got me now,” and what? The hell is this about?

She holds out an arm to stop Hook from following Neal, woah, what was that about, but Hook is standoffish, can’t meet her eyes right, and dammit, he’s been having difficulty doing that since the Echo Caves. His words are halting, tense and just a bit uncomfortable, “I assumed he heard my secret, I also assumed you told him of our shared moment,”

“Why would you assume that,” she asks sharply. This time, he has no trouble holding her gaze, because I was hoping it meant something, but that is not the point, that is not what meant something, because it occurs to her that the only time Pan could’ve told him about Neal was immediately after their kiss, and still — “What meant something was that you told us Neal was still alive. Thank you,” she seems to be saying that to him a lot, and each time, she means it more and more. “Otherwise you could’ve kept Pan’s information to yourself.”

“Why would I have done that?” he asks genuinely, as though it never once occurred to him, as though he didn’t have everything to gain and nothing to lose if he kept the information to himself.

“Maybe Pan offered you a deal, why else would he tell you?”

“It was a test,” he says simply, unbothered, “he wanted to see if I’d leave an old friend to die, even if that old friend happens to be vying for the same woman I am,”

She stares, and thinks of how refreshing it is to speak with him, the way he doesn’t beat around the bush, the way he states his intentions plainly, never bothering with a lie, thinks of that gentleman he mentioned once, so long ago, shining through again, always there, underlying most of his actions, “And you chose your friend,” she doesn’t mean to sound so surprised.

He only shrugs, “Does that surprise you?”

She thinks she’s more surprised by how unsurprised she is.

Emma has learned so much more about Hook in their short time together, thinks of how easy it always is to be with him, to speak with him, to understand him, because he never says the words, but she knows the reason she is an open book to him is the same reason he is an open book to her.

You are a pirate, she says instead, smiling at him, wanting him to smile back, to laugh, but when he does, it is tinged with an uncharacteristic self-deprecation, yeah, that I am, and he looks down, looks away from her, and Emma thinks he shouldn’t sound like that (thinks she doesn’t want him to sound like that).

He takes a step closer, and somehow, she doesn’t feel even slightly uncomfortable by his closeness, by his openness, his sincerity, “But I also believe in good form. So when I win your heart, Emma — and I will win it. It will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.”

She’s already known this, deep down. He never mentioned saving David voluntarily, even cautioned against David’s acknowledgement, he decided to be the first to speak his secret, to bear his heart to save Neal, never once bringing it up as a point of praise, and he’s so so honest, expecting nothing in return, simply happy to lay his heart down in her hands. She has to turn this conversation away from the direction it’s going, she has no time to examine her own feelings and desires, not while Henry is still in danger, she isn’t nearly as brave enough to examine herself, too scared to find out what that answer may be, where it may lead her to, and she’s nowhere near as brave as Hook to simply put herself out there like he is. “This is not a contest, Hook,”

“Isn’t it?” he questions mildly, “You’re gonna have to choose, Emma. You realize that, don’t you? Because neither one of us is gonna give up,” he gestures towards Neal’s general direction, but —

“The only thing I have to choose is the best way to get my son back,” she corrects him, because Henry will always be her priority, now, on Neverland when he’s in constant danger, back in Storybrooke where he is happy and surrounded by family, even regardless of whatever danger Storybrooke winds up in, and even when there’s no danger to be had.

“And you will,” says Hook simply, as though there isn’t even a single shred of doubt in his mind, and once again, Emma is struck by his simple faith. The answer is plain on his face, in his voice, in the silence of her lie detector, but somehow, the quiet doubt constantly on the back of her mind is calling out to her, and she can’t help but ask, can’t help the creeping vulnerability, you think so, because she has the feeling he wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t brush it away, or mock or whatever else.

I’ve yet to see you fail, and there’s a shadow of a smile on his face as he stares back at her, but Emma knows it’s not a smile of mocking, “and when you do succeed,” he continues, uses when because in his mind, her victory is already guaranteed, no matter if they have no concrete plan to get to Henry, to defeat Pan, to leave Neverland, “well, that’s when the fun begins,” and he’s smiling properly now.

“Guys!” Neal calls out then, and Hook’s eyes dart to somewhere behind her, his face smooths out into his usual vaguely disinterested expression, hiding away the heart he so easily opens when they’re alone, but Emma is slow to tear her eyes away from him, because she still shaken, moved by his confidence and belief in her, the same that she’s only ever seen on Henry, with his unfaltering faith in the goodness of people, even ones he’s called evil, with his but I believe in you, before he collapsed and leaving her in panic and believing in magic, for him.

(She thinks she could be in serious trouble with this man.)

(She thinks she might already be in serious trouble with this man.)

10.

Emma doesn’t want to leave. Not when she had finally found her parents, found her son, found a place she could belong (a place she could call home). She’s barely holding back her tears, can see Henry doing the same, and they’re at the town line, her Bug already at the edge, but she doesn’t want to go.

Hook approaches her as soon as she moves away from the crowd, and she starts to feel even worse.

She doesn’t know what to say to him, what she wants him to know, and judging by his uncertain expression, he feels the same.

“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan,” he attempts lightly, and it brings out a smile from her, however shaky, because he always seems to be able to do that to her.

She doesn’t know what she wants to say to him, but she knows she could very possibly regret not saying anything at all more than anything else.

If she has to leave, if she can never see him again, Emma knows she has to say goodbye, knows she owes it to him, owes it to herself, owes it to them.

But the smile fades from his face, and he looks about the same as she feels, and “There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you,” and she knows he is not lying, does not need to use her superpower with him because he wears his damn heart on his sleeve when it comes to her, because if there’s one thing she can count on, it’s Captain Hook — Killian Jones’ honor and dedication and honesty, knows that when he makes a promise, he keeps it, and she doesn’t even have to look much further than how they met, him dedicating himself to centuries avenging an old love.

There was something building between them, she knows. It’s why she ran from him in the first place so long ago on the beanstalk. She doesn’t need his open honesty about his feelings, doesn’t need the Echo Caves to know. She was in trouble with him from the start, since he read her like an open book, and she ran from it, and she knew the moment she kissed him that whatever it was, it wasn’t something she could keep running from forever.

Until now.

(Until she felt that she might not really want to run anymore.)

But even now, when they’ll never see each other again, when there’s no consequence to keeping his heart hidden from her, he tells her the truth, tells her he won’t stop thinking of her, and she thinks, for once, he deserves some honesty in return, because she may not know what she feels for him, may not return whatever it is he feels for her, but dammit she cares about him, and she’s going to miss him. So she says good, because that’s all she can manage to say, but he still manages to understand her meaning, and he smiles, and steps back.

(She thinks her heart might just break a bit more.)

They may never know what it was that was building, but she has never met another person she could understand so well, who could understand her so well, who she feels she could someday let her walls down for, who she felt truly connected with.

She never knew what kindred spirits meant until she met him.

But then Regina says she and Henry will lose their memories, lose the years they spent in Storybrooke, lose the knowledge that she had found her family, the knowledge that she was wanted, and that Henry has more family than he could possibly know to do with, but could still easily love enough to fill his big heart, and her own heart breaks, breaks for her son, for herself, for her parents and Regina, who can’t even have the comfort that they would be thinking about them, and for Hook, who had promised her everyday but she can’t even return the favor for one more day.

(somehow, she knows, even without her memories, she would have regretted not saying goodby to Hook.)

But they are out of time, and she and Henry get into the Bug, and she starts driving.

She can feel her parents gaze, can feel Hook’s eyes, can feel her memories fading, being replaced, but she holds on as long as she can, until there’s nothing left to hold on to.

(She wonders, later, at the incredible sense of loss she feels, wonders at her acquired taste for rum, wonders at the melancholy she feels when she stares out at the ocean, or when she watches Disney movies with Henry, wonders why everything just feels wrong, feels like there’s something missing.)

11.

Emma had started to wonder who was more insane; the madman dressed head-to-toe in leather rambling about curses and family — or her for thinking, for feeling, that some part of what he’s saying actually made sense.

The moment he had turned up, nothing felt right anymore (nothing had felt right all year), felt strangely like she had known the man who showed up at her door, felt very much insane for actually leaning into the kiss for a split second, felt like she wanted to trust him, felt so much like she was missing something, something so, so, important.

Except nothing the man had said made any sort of logical sense, and she can’t get him out of her thoughts, her head, and Walsh’s proposal wasn’t helping her keep her head straight, and even when she’s throwing him in jail, she can’t help but seek him out again. But she needs answers, and he’s just pleading with her to take a baseless leap of faith, to trust him, trust herself, and he hasn’t lied once to her, no matter how insane the words spilling from his lips are.

(Everything in her is telling her to do it, to try something new.)

“As much as you deny it, deep down, you know something’s wrong, deep down, you know I’m right,” he insists, but it’s not possible, and how could she forget all of this?

He pulls out that tiny blue vial again, offers it out to her again, and again, Emma is struck by the strange familiarity of the action struck by the feeling that she knows what it feels for him to offer a drink, (for her to take it). “If you drink this it will,” he says quietly, and it’s all insane, he is insane, and she must be insane for wanting to take it, because —

“If — if what you’re saying is true... I’d have to give up my life here,”

“It’s all based on lies,” he insists.

“It’s real,” she protests, “and it’s pretty good! I have Henry, a job — a guy I love!”

His face falls, and he looks down at the grown as though he can’t meet her eyes, as though it will give him something to say, give him courage, and “Perhaps there’s a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost,” and Emma —

Stares. He’s talking about himself, she realizes. Knows it in herself, knows it like she knows anything else, although, perhaps that’s the wrong analogy now that he’s turned her life upside down in the span of a day.

“Regardless,” he plows on, as though he hadn’t really meant to reveal so much, like he’s trying to cover up his vulnerabilities, cover up the heart he hadn’t meant to open up to her, “if you wanna find the truth, drink up. Do you really want to live a life of lies? You know this isn’t right, trust your gut, Swan, it will tell you what to do,”

“Henry always says that,” she says quietly, staring at him, and he stares back, open, honest, earnest, and she thinks that maybe her resolve has crumbled.

“Then if you won’t listen to me, listen to your boy,”

Emma has no reasons left, not when he clearly means well, not when all her instincts are saying he can be trusted, that she can take a leap of faith with him, not when he’s looking at her like that, not when both he and Henry trust her to trust herself, when he had — intentionally or not — revealed himself to her with a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost.

So she takes the vial and drinks and —

She remembers, remembers lighting a candle on a cupcake, remembers Henry smiling at her on her doorstep, remembers Storybrooke, the clocktower moving, the dragon she fought when she finally believed, remembers Henry, cold and pale and lifeless until he woke with a kiss, remembers her parents, Neal, shot, falling through the portal, remembers Hook, the way he had looked at her at Echo Caves, remembers saying goodbye, remembers leaving —

She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes until she opens them, sees Hook watching her, anxious, worried, and oh, “Hook,” she breathes out, and he lights up at her, smiles like everything is okay, alright.

“Did you miss me?” he grins, and Emma wonders if it’s possible to have missed something she never even knew she had lost, but she remembers now, remembers the drinks they shared, the moments they had alone, the words and promises given, remembers the times she had wondered why she suddenly had a taste for rum, had a strange sense of melancholy whenever she took Henry to the seaside, knows now that yes some part of her had missed him even when she didn’t know she had lost h—

(He is not hers to lose, she reminds herself.)

(But she also remembers ‘until I met you’, remembers ‘when I win your heart’, remembers ‘not a day will go by’, and she simply knows, knows from the way he looks at her now that he had kept that promise, and she thinks, somewhere deep, deep down, that he just might disagree with that.

She wonders at how she is more scared at the fact she isn’t as scared at that as she should be.)

Later they are sat at her apartment, and she sets down two glasses and a bottle of rum as he recounts what happened after their return to the Enchanted Forest, recounts his return to piracy, and “Glad to see you haven’t changed,” she quips, because her mind is still reeling, the sudden simplicity and comfort of her life the past year twisted upside down, the sinking feeling that her memories of holding Henry as a baby, of changing her mind, of taking care of him and raising him are just stories, and nothing feels real anymore, nothing feels right, and if just one thing, just one person could still be the same, that would be very much appreciated.

But Hook only picks up his glass, “There wasn’t anything for me in the Enchanted Forest,” he says simply, “Why would I stay?”

And Emma has nothing she can think of saying, but she wants to say something, because again, he’s talking about her, knows he is, even if he never says the words, thinks (hopes) he hadn’t just disappeared off all on his own, thinks maybe he doesn’t do all that well on his own, thinks of the centuries he had spent on revenge for his first love, thinks of the promise he had made her in Neverland and at the town line, and thinks just maybe —

She opens her mouth, but before she can scrounge up something to say, he tilts his glass for a toast, and she falters, tapping her own glass to his. “And all was well,” he continues, leaning back in his seat, “until I got a message, a message saying there was a new curse, and everyone had been returned to Storybrooke, the message told me that the only hope — was you,”

“You came all the way back here to save my family?” she doesn’t mean for it to sound so doubting, but once again, there was absolutely nothing in it for him, he clearly hadn’t even been caught up in the curse, hadn’t even been with any of them for a year, yet he had gone to pains to track her down in New York, gone to pains to keep trying to convince her to trust him, no matter how long it had taken, how many times she called him crazy, or had slammed the door in his face, or left him to prison.

I came back to save you, is said plainly, so matter of factly that it nearly sounded flat, and Emma doesn’t know what to say to that, because again, he isn’t expecting praise or gratitude, isn’t saying it for anything other than to keep honest with her, because he had again, come back for her, because even back in Neverland he never kept his feelings a secret from her and she can’t even bring herself to return the favor, because he isn’t even expecting her to return the favor, and just how had he managed to find her, get to her?

So instead, she asks him who could’ve done this, but he knows just about as much as she does, alas, you’re the Savior, not me, and he downs the rest of his rum, but Emma can’t help but laugh, because, “You know what I was yesterday? A mother. Until you showed up and started poking holes into everything I thought was real. Drinking that potion was like waking up from a dream — a really good dream,”

She wonders at how easy it is to confide this to him.

“Well you have what matters most — your son,”

“Now I have to figure out how to explain this to him,”

Hook looks apologetic, “Alas, I could only scavenge together enough for one dose of memory potion,”

“I’d better start figuring out what I’m gonna tell him,” she replied quietly, and dammit how the hell had her life just gotten so much harder, so much more complicated in a single day? She has no idea what to even say to Henry, how to make this not sound absolutely insane, and —

The door buzzes, and Hook asks who it is, but oh shit how had she forgotten about Walsh? Henry invited him, she explains, and Hook turns, offers to get rid of him, but her life may not have been real, her memories all jumbled up and twisted and messy right now, but whatever lives she and Henry had made this past year was real, the eight months she spent with Walsh was real, and I owe him an explanation, even if she doesn’t know what that explanation is, or even where to begin.

“What are you going to say to him?” Hook asks, and Emma just feels very tired, just wants to take a damn moment to process everything, take a moment without having to figure out how to explain this insanity to Walsh or Henry, but Hook has been honest to her, and the least she can do is return that honesty.

“I don’t know. But I care about him too much to drag him into all this. Wait here,” she requests.

But turns out she hadn’t needed to think of something to say to Walsh, because Walsh is a fucking flying monkey and Walsh had just tried to kill her, because of course. Why had she even thought that having some semblance of a normal life would be possible for her?

Hook comes bursting through the door to the rooftop, calling out to her in worry, because of course he did, what the blazes was that, but Emma just feels the betrayal, the grief, rage, bitterness swelling up, and maybe the stress of the whole day is getting to her, because again, she just answers him honestly, “A reminder. That I was never safe, that what I wanted — what I thought I could have was not in the cards for the Savior,”

The way he looks at her just makes her feel a bit worse, like he knows exactly what she’s referring to, like he wants to disagree but wouldn’t know if he would be overstepping, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what, but she’s exhausted, drained from the day, from finding out her life is a lie, from Walsh, so she pushes past him, “We leave in the morning.”

(The next morning Hook pounds on the door, she lets him saunter in and he greets her with a wide grin, looks amused at Henry asking if he skipped bail, looks offended at the slight against his clothes, and she calls him Killian for the first time, it’s strange how right it feels to use his name, no matter how wrong it feels lying to Henry, and she reaches for her red leather jacket, reaches for her armor, because she needs it after Walsh, after how her life turned out to be wrong, after how easy it was to confide in Hook.)

(Somehow, she feels that not even her armor can help her much when it comes to Hook.)

12.

“You’ll look for any excuse to use that thing, won’t you?” Emma doesn’t bother hiding her amusement as Hook shakes at the berries with his — well, hook.

“At least we know we’re in the right place, what now?”

“Now we start searching.”

“You know something, Swan,” he starts lightly, “whenever you’re around, I inevitably find myself trekking through some manner of woods or forest courting danger,” he drawls.

“And here I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, always looking for the next adventure,”

“Oh, is that what this is?” he questions her.

“Isn’t it? The hell were you doing for the last year alone on that ship? I’m guessing it was one swashbuckling tale after another. Until you decided to come back and save me,”

She isn’t being fair to him, she knows. But something happened to him in the past year, something has that melancholy constantly in his eyes shining even stronger, something he’s hiding from her, and Walsh is still fresh in her mind, just one more person she had opened her heart to, only to have been hiding something, only to have been lying, just one more person she hadn’t expected the worst from, only to turn around and betray her, and the bitterness at the memory is just rising, frustration from everything going on building, and she still doesn’t know why he came for her.

She isn’t being fair to him, Emma smiles bitterly, because Hook may not be lying, but he’s certainly hiding something from her, and she’s incredibly tired of people not being who they say they are, and fuck she’s stressed and frustrated, frustrated from Walsh, from the lack of answers, from the new curse, her false memories, lying to Henry, and Killian is right there.

“Exactly,” he answers her shortly, and Emma thinks this is the first time he’s really lied to her since they met, and her frustration grows. She isn’t being fair to him but she’s too frustrated to care right now, you’re lying, she turns, confronts him, and Hook’s eyes go flat. “Excuse me?”

“What happened back there, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” he says cooly, “It’s my tale and I’m sticking to it,” but I still don’t believe you, and she’s only half aware of why she’s still pushing it, still desperately wants answers, wants to know what was so bad that he’s lying to her, wants to know what he’s been doing, how far he had to go to find her, why he went through all that trouble to return her memories, return her to Storybrooke, why he came for her at all, because as much as she wants to trust him, as much as she already trusts him, experience has taught her there has to be more.

But he’s not budging, he’s standing tense, he sounds frustrated as well, “Let’s just leave it at that and you can just say thank you,”

“For my memories? I already did,” and then he mentions Walsh, calls it a would-be loveless marriage, and that — that wasn’t — is that — “Is that what you think you’re doing?” because as good at Hook is at making her feel good, feel at ease, he’s equally good at pushing, getting her on the defensive (just as she knows she is equally good at doing the same to him).

“He was a flying monkey,”

“I didn’t know that,”

“Were you considering it? His proposal?” he asks quietly, and why is he — does it matter, because she really doesn’t want to get into this with anyone, with him, “Humor me,” and Emma kind of wants to laugh at the situation, two people who can read each other ridiculously well, keeping their secrets close to their chest, pushing for answers, but neither willing to budge. But as frustratingly as ever, as much as she wants to shove him away, wants to keep her own feelings, own thoughts in check, he is frustratingly good at pushing her, pushing her buttons, frustratingly easy to speak to.

“Yes, okay,” she snaps, “I was in love, so of course I was considering it. But as usual, he wasn’t who he said he was, and I got my heart broken, that enough humor for you?”

Because the lies, the betrayal is still raw, because she had lived a damn good life in New York, with her son and a guy she had loved, because Hook had shown up on her doorstep and woke her up from that life, because now, once again, she’s been burned by love, betrayed by someone she trusted, because Hook is frustratingly good at bringing out all sorts of feelings she’d much rather keep locked away, because she had started pushing him for answers and in the end, she was the one spilling her secrets, and now she’s even more upset and frustrated than when they had started speaking.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that,” he says instead, and what? Is there any right way to take that? But because it’s Killian, she knows he means what he says, and she has already let him see past her walls, showed him a piece of her heart, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt, you’re glad to hear I had my heart broken, because she wants to know —

And he’s taking a step closer to her, “If it can be broken,” and her sharp intake of breath was completely involuntary, because he’s so close, he hasn’t been this close since their kiss, and the way he looks at her — “It means it still works,”

She had wanted answers from him, but he’s answering the wrong questions. She doesn’t need her superpower to tell he’s sincere, not with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s speaking from experience, like it’s a lesson he had recently learned (like it’s a lesson she had been the one to teach him), but she has nothing she can say, nothing she wants to say, not when he’s still hiding something, not with Walsh still fresh in her memory, in her heart, not with this damn new curse, and goddamn everything, not now.

Not when, as much as she trusts him already, trusts him to have her back, to be around Henry, she can’t trust him with her heart.

So she does what she does best and runs. (She can hear it takes him several moments to follow, wonders what he was thinking, wonders why she cares about what he thinks.)

13.

Her magic swells, and she can feel the hot cocoa in front of her disappear, shift, reappear over to the booth Killian sits in, on top of the book he’s reading, and the success has her slamming her hand down the counter in delight, “Boom! Granny’s to-go. I should open a franchise,” she sings out, because she feels great, and it’s always so easy to be with Hook, and even just thinking about him makes her think of what he did for her, for Henry, for Ariel, and she feels good, dammit.

“It’s impressive,” he offers, and what, that’s it? She settles into her seat across from him, and she wants him to look impressed, sound more impressed, but he’s been looking drawn and exhausted since he helped Ariel, and she wants him to smile at her, laugh with her, tease her, wants him lighten up, to open up about whatever is bothering him.

“Wanna see something really impressive?” she asks him, pleased smile spreading as she looks at him, and he only sighs, looking back, and nope, that isn’t lightening up, so she waves her hand, feels the surge of magic, and hears the clink of his hook falling onto the coat rack. The continued success has her giggling (god, giggling, what the hell does being in his presence do to her?).

She wants him to laugh, to smile, to make some snarky comment or casual praise, or tease her, wants to help remove whatever cloud has been settling on his shoulders, whatever it was that had him distant, closed off.

Instead, he scowls, getting up to retrieve his hook, that’s bad form, Swan, tampering with a man’s hook, and if she hadn’t already been worried for him before, she certainly would be now. “Okay, seriously, what is up with you?” she keeps her tone light, because maybe she’s reading too much into it, but she’s still curious, worried for him.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” he sighs, getting back to his seat, “It’s a long story, too long for now,” and he takes a swig from his flask, and clearly she wasn’t reading too much into it, but now she is properly worried for her best friend.

Oh god.

Emma had to stop and take a moment as it occurred to her. Because somehow, somewhere along the way, between Neverland and New York and the Wicked Witch of the West, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, had become her best friend — her confidant.

Because in this completely fucked up town filled with fairy tales, where her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and she’s after the Wicked Witch with her friends Belle, and the Evil Queen, and — yes, Captain Hook — for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around, both of them equally cynical and sarcastic, both burned by the world, both had to learn to fend for themselves early on.

How was this her life.

But regardless, something serious is bothering him, and she has confided in him many times before, back in Neverland, in New York, about Neal, about Walsh, about her doubts, her frustrations, and for once she wants to be able to return the favor, “Okay,” she starts slowly, “obviously, something’s —“

But then Belle slams the door to the Diner open, stumbling in with a great, old, massive book, calling out to her and dropping the book on the table hastily. “Zelena’s plan,” and she must’ve been running to them because she’s still panting, “I figured out what she’s doing,” and suddenly Emma has more to worry about than how Killian had managed to secure his spot as her best friend, has to take a rain check on figuring out what was wrong with him, has to push her worries aside for now.

(They may not be in the forefront of her mind, but it certainly resurfaces every time her eyes fall on him, sees the shadows in his eyes, sees the way he looks like he’s holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, sees the way he has no patience for just about anything, the way his quips are born more often from frustration than attempts at humor, and the way she doesn’t know how to help.)

14.

“I never should have brought Henry back to Storybrooke,” Emma tells Hook, because no matter how pissed of she is with him at the moment, he’s still the easiest person to talk to.

“You did what you felt was right,”

“I did what you manipulated me into,” and yeah, she isn’t being all that fair to him, knows she’s not being rational, knows it was very much her own choice, but she’s still so angry, still lashing out at him, because he lied to her, put Henry in danger, and she cursed me, and had broken her trust, and he’s talking about her parents and the town needing her, but “Henry, also needed me. We were happy in New York, and when I’m done melting this witch, I’d like us to be happy again.”

“You know, as content as you were in that city, it wasn’t real,”

“It was real for me,” she denies, “For him, everything that happened, happened,” but, as always, Hook isn’t afraid to keep pushing her, even when she’s already furious with him, when he knows she’s angry, and like it or not, a big part of you and Henry belongs in this town, but Henry had nearly died today, Neal had died in her arms, Zelena’s after her unborn sibling, Killian himself had been cursed, been turned into a weapon against her, turned into an attempt at taking her magic.

“What does the boy think?”

“He’s a kid! He wants chocolate milk in his cereal, I’m his mother, I know what’s best for him.”

“What’s best for him?” he asks, slowing his walk to face her properly, to urge her to a stop as well, and he looks rather unimpressed by any of her arguments, “or for you?”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs, pushing past him.

“You’ve taken care of the boy quite well here,” he points out, catching up to her “you talk about danger all you like, but it isn’t that. So tell me, what is it? Why are you so scared of staying? I think it’s because you can see a future here — a happy one,”

She does not want to get into this with him, doesn’t want to consider just how right he might be, doesn’t want to look any deeper for why she wants to run back to New York, so she reaches for the nearest thing she can to push him away, “Let me guess — with you?”

It hits the mark, and before Emma can even start to feel guilty at the look on his face, the look she put there, Zelena interrupts, drawling sarcastically, and Emma has no patience for her, the weeks of frustration that had been building in her, the fear for Henry, for her parents, for her sibling, the anger for Neal and Hook —

“Next time you try taking my power, why don’t yo try enchanting the lips of someone I’ll actually kiss,” she snaps at her.

“See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make,” and Emma’s just getting more annoyed by the tone of her voice, “You can keep your magic, which makes you oh-so-sad, or you can save the man that you can’t wait to run away from,”

She barely even has time to register Zelena’s words, to question her, before Gold sends Hook flying and into a water-filled well, holding him in place, and —

Her heart leaps into her throat, any anger she had been holding on for him rapidly fading in the face of him being in danger, and she’s running for him, grasping at his shoulders, pulling and pulling, but he doesn’t budge, he’s trapped and drowning and he’s struggling, struggling, and Killian is the one drowning but Emma can’t breathe, because his fight is fading, he’s falling limp and —

“Try all you like,” Zelena calls out to her, and Emma snaps out of it, turning to her, “you can’t free him,” and Emma thinks the coldness of her voice might just be worse than the mocking, because she’s staring down at them impassively, only the faintest smirk on her face, but Killian is still underwater, and she disappears in a cloud of green, and only then does she finally, finally, pull him free.

The relief is short-lived.

She’s calling out his name, but he’s just lying there, and he’s not responding, not breathing, she’s calling his name but he still won’t wake up and he can’t die, she couldn’t handle it, Hook, wake up, she thinks of Graham, thinks of Neal, and she couldn’t bear to lose one more person she cares for, and Killian, come back to me, she doesn’t even care if she’s begging, because he’s too still, he shouldn’t be this still —

Not this man who’s always so animated, who speaks thousands of words with just a look, who wears his heart on his sleeve, who feels and shows his emotions with all his whole being, who’s constantly emphasizing his words with hand gestures or his stupidly animated eyebrows, or his deep blue eyes, who’s smile and humor always manages to brighten her own mood, who had come back for her, who keeps coming back for her.

She can’t lose him.

She has nothing to help him with, but he’s still lying in front of her, Hook, she tries again, but there’s nothing around, and she’s out of options, but they still need her magic to stop Zelena, but Killian is dying, and she thinks the last time she felt this all-consuming fear was when Henry had been cold and limp and breathless, under the sleeping curse, and when he had given his heart to Pan.

She can’t lose him.

But without her magic, they’ll be out of options, out of weapons.

See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make.

She can’t lose him, magic be damned.

Son of a bitch, she mutters, before pinching Killian’s nose shut to give him CPR.

(As if there’s any decision to be made.)

She feels her magic drain, feels the wrongness of it, but Emma pulls back, and he’s still not breathing, and she’s starting to get desperate and she’s cradling his face, and, Hook, come back to me, she whispers, she pleads —

And then he’s twisting, coughing out water, and Emma thinks maybe she could cry from the relief, she certainly feels herself slump over a bit, and her hand comes up to cradle the back of his head just before it slams back on the ground, and he’s saying her name, and it’s shaky, it’s weak, still just a bit waterlogged, but Emma can’t remember the last time she felt so relieved, so happy to hear someone just say her name, but Hook’s hand comes up to his lips and —

“What did you do?” he asks roughly, “What did you do?” because of course he cares more about her magic than his own life, because he’s so ridiculously selfless despite what he pretends, because she had been furious at him just minutes before, had told him she couldn’t trust him anymore, didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, because she keeps pushing him away, keeps running from him even when he’s the easiest person to talk to, confide in — maybe because he’s the easiest person to talk to.

But she won’t take this from him, not now, not when she had nearly lost him, not when she can’t bear to lose anyone else she cares for, not when all she could think of when he lay limp and lifeless was how much he means to her, his smiles and jokes and sarcasm and cynicism and even his damn broodiness, how much she couldn’t stomach the idea of losing him, losing what he is to her, even if she doesn’t know what that is yet.

Right now, right this moment, all that matters to her is that Killian is still alive, that Killian is breathing, and she’ll bask in this for now.

15.

David’s calling her.

She should answer, but she can’t think of anything to say to him, doesn’t particularly want to talk to him about this, doesn’t want to try to get him to understand. You’re making a mistake, Hook calls out, because of course he’d be the one to come after her, to follow her, and if she didn’t to speak to David about this, she definitely doesn’t want to speak to Hook, who’s far too good at knowing how to push her.

“Don’t listen to me, listen to your son,” he says, undeterred, slowing only once he’s reached her, “he thought this,” and he pulls out the stupid, goddamn storybook out of his satchel, holding it out to her, “might remind you of what you’re leaving behind — your family.”

“Henry is my family, and I am taking him where he is safe.”

“No, Swan, safety first nonsense is just that. You defeated the bloody Wicked Witch, you defeated Pan, you broke the curse — but you keep running. What are you looking for?”

Because he always seems to know that there’s more, always manages to read her fears, and really, there isn’t much point in lying to him, either, so she answers quietly, home, hopes he’ll leave it at that. Except he never does. “And that’s in New York?” he questions doubtfully. “That wasn’t real,”

Except the last year, the last year when she had some semblance of a normal life, with her son and a job (a guy she loves), and yeah, they were fake memories, but she and Henry can go back and make new memories, make it real, make it feel like home, but Hook shakes his head, “Why can’t you do that here, with your entire family?”

And her eyes fall to the storybook he’s still holding out to her, and she’s reminded, again, of the story her parents were telling her new brother, some ridiculous first meeting with a robbery, and ogres, and knights, of magic and True Love, and Emma?

Emma is no fairytale story, no outlandish adventures, no balls and gowns and crowns and ruling kingdoms — just foster home after foster home, either unwanted by the family or she herself making the decision to leave, to run. She was just a bailbonds person with a criminal record and a son from a teenage pregnancy, and she may have magic, may be from True Love, or whatever else fairytale story she hears, but that’s all they are — stories — and she snatches the book from his hands impulsively, “Because of this! I don’t see my family here, I see... fairytales, I see stories of princes and princesses and — that’s not me. I was never a part of any of this,”

Because Emma feels that if anyone can understand her, it is Hook. “Then what are you a part of, Swan?” he asks gently, because her instincts about him are rarely wrong, and she realizes, suddenly just how swapped their positions are now from the year before, when she told him he could become a part of something rather than going off and being alone.

He had done it, had helped them rescue Henry from Neverland, had found her and returned her memories, brought her to her parents, stood and helped and fought at her side, and is now — one of the heroes. And now he sits with her, asks if she is a part of something, if she would rather try and be a part of something or go off and do what she does best. “Besides being with Henry, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of anything,” she answers him honestly.

“But you could be,” Killian finally moves to sit beside her.

Emma sighs, shutting the book, turning to face him properly. “Look, when I was a kid, I ran away, it’s just what I did,” she would get no judgement from him, she knows this, “The first time I did it, I had the same exact thought. I wondered, what if I’m making a mistake, what if I miss this place?”

“And did you?”

“Not the first time. Not any time.”

“So you just keep running,” and Emma can’t quite figure out what’s in his voice, but she has never found a home, never found a place she missed when leaving, and home is the place, when you leave, you just miss it, and she couldn’t miss what she never even remembered she had, couldn’t miss her parents or Storybrooke or Hook, not the past year, couldn’t remember if she ever, truly regretted running from some place, something, someone, and really, she doesn’t even miss New York, only the vague idea of a normal life, and until she feels that? She’ll just keep moving, keep running, keep her walls high up, keep doing what she does best, keeps being alone.

“So you’re just going to leave your parents then? Don’t you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He’s not talking about the town. Emma knows this as well as she knows he had been talking about himself in New York, perhaps there’s a man that you love, but does he really not know? She still remembers him cold and lifeless, not waking up no matter how hard she shakes him, how loud she calls his name, still remembers the cold terror that she might lose him, remembers all the drinks they shared, the times he was her first thought when looking for someone to take care of Henry, remembers him sitting across from her in an empty diner, the weight of his curse leaving him distant, snappish, and all she had wanted was to hear him tease her again.

She thinks sometimes he is the only one she wants to talk to, thinks he might be the only one she feels comfortable telling all of this to, thinks she’s —

She’s leaving, but she doesn’t want him to doubt, “Of course I care. I just have to do what’s right for me, and Henry, and —”

There’s a great, glowing beacon reaching up to the sky, and she’s up and heading towards it before she even registers getting up from the bench, and, again, Hook is up and calling after her, chasing her.

16.

“You might not be able to move, Swan,” Hook starts, sounding mildly amused, “but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

Emma can’t stop the pleased grin spreading on her face. You’re not so bad yourself, pirate, she thinks delightedly, but before she can speak, Midas approaches and greets them, who do I have the honor to welcome into my home, and oh shit, they hadn’t discussed aliases, and Hook is being absolutely no help, “Charles, Prince Charles,” she interrupts his stammering, “And I am Princess... Leia.”

Henry would be so proud, she thinks as she curtsies. They move in, and she’s been told so many stories, but now she’s living it, thinks of all the time Mary Margaret and David mention this or that ball and, “What’s the big deal about these things?” she asks Killian, but he doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to, after all, and Emma stares at the people mulling about in lavish clothes and sharing food and socializing, and stares at the center of it all, where people have paired up, dancing smoothly to the music, and it really is as fairytale as it sounded.

“You were saying?” he whispers teasingly, and only then does Emma realize she’s gaping, and all these princes and princesses, dancing with one another in unfamiliar movements — what am I supposed to do?

But Hook is taking her hand gently, slowly tugging her into the crowd, and he’s got a look on his face that Emma doesn’t want to name, smiling at her delightedly, blend in, and for a pirate, he doesn’t look remotely out of place, looks completely at ease with the situation, and hang on, wait, so many things could go wrong, she doesn’t know how to dance, and, “Wait, are you saying you know how to do — whatever this is?”

“It’s called a waltz,” he says cooly, settling one of her hands on her shoulder, moving the other to his false hand, and “There’s only one rule,” he continued, gently resting his hand on her waist, and he’s so close to her, their eyes meet, and and he’s completely open to her, another one of those moments when he’s completely dropping his pirate persona, the flirtatious bravado, letting her see that gentleman beneath, and he’s staring at her like he’s —

“Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing,” he grins and starts to move, and it isn’t difficult at all to follow his lead, because they make a great team, they always have, and that partnership had always carried over, whether it was knocking out giants, or getting around Neverland, or fighting Zelena, or even in quieter moments, when they are alone, when they have a conversation with a single look, or their easy banter, or, apparently — dancing the waltz.

He’s grinning at her like he just can’t help himself, and she’s smiling back because she just can’t help herself, and with Hook it’s so easy, and once again, she is so unspeakably glad that he is here with her, that she wasn’t alone falling through the portal, that he is the one who somehow managed to be by her side through this. She still doesn’t know if he had fallen in like she had, or if had simply followed her, because he always follows her, and she can’t think of anyone else she’d rather have by her side right now.

(she thinks she’s falling in —)

“Watch the mocking, I’m actually getting the hang of this,” she whispers to him, because there can’t be any other reason for why he’s looking at her like she’s the greatest thing he has ever seen.

“I’m not mocking you, Swan, I was just thinking about what you said in Storybrooke, about not being a princess,”

“Really,” she nearly laughs, “You get my first dance at my first royal ball, and all you can say is ‘I told you so?’”

“I believe what I’m trying to say, your Highness,” he corrects her, “is that you appear to be a natural,” she spies her father across the room before she can respond, and they quickly look away before anyone can notice them staring, and it isn’t all that hard to pretend to focus on Killian’s face, because she doesn’t have to pretend at all.

They dance, and Emma is helpless to grin back when Killian is looking at her like that, and Emma thinks the feeling of his hand on her waist feels right, and he feels good standing this close, and they are good together, they always have been, and Emma thinks that right this moment, the world consists only of the two of them, because she thinks she’s already halfway in —

17.

“But you can,” Killian insist, “All he said we need is magic, you’re the Savior, Swan, you can do it,”

“Not anymore, I lost it,” she reminds him, because she still can’t really feel it, can’t reach her magic, no matter how much she tries.

“When Zelena dies, all of her spells were undone, your powers should’ve been restored,”

“Believe me,” she snaps, “If I could make it work, I would, you think I’m faking it?”

And clearly he isn’t interested in holding back his opinions much longer, “I think not having magic makes it a hell of a lot easier for you to run back to New York and pretend to be somebody else,” and Emma thinks this is the first time he really gave her his own opinions on her leaving, gave her his true thoughts, told flatly and matter of factly, rather than just a vague disapproval and gentle persuasions to change her mind.

“But listen to me, Swan. You’re not. It’s time to stop running.”

Except Emma already knows this, has finally accepted it after one to many blank expressions, her parents looking at her, but not seeing her, of Ruby giving nothing more than polite conversations, of Blue’s knowing looks, and even the way Killian’s past self had looked right through her, missing all of their shared moments and connection, just another warm body to take to bed for the night.

“Yes, I run away, that’s how I’ve always survived, but believe me, I want this to work, I wanna go back. I wanna stop running.”

Almost immediately, Killian softens, “What’s changed your mind?”

And she remembers the way they were all helpless to watch her mom get executed, the way she had panicked, so scared of losing another loved one, remembers the way Killian had pulled her into him, remembers the way all she could do after was replay that single moment over and over until Killian mentioned his brother, until they realized Snow was still alive. She thought of the way she leapt forward to hug her mother but she had simply smiled politely before moving on, thinks of how her father had helped with her escape from Regina’s dungeon but barely gave her more than a curious look, remembers the way Killian had wiped her tears, the way she had watched her father fall in love with her mother, thought of what Mary Margaret had said to her so long ago, back when she had just been her roommate, thought about how she had been so busy trying to keep out pain with her walls, she hadn’t been able to let love through, either.

Not her parents’ love for her, not her own love for them, for her new baby brother, had constantly kept Killian at a distance because of how he made her feel, regardless of how little reason she has to not trust him, regardless of how much she feels she could someday return his feelings (especially because she feels she’s already on her way to returning them).

“I had saved and lost her, too. And that’s what I’ve been doing to her since I met her. It’s gotta stop,” Killian is only watching her patiently, encouragingly, and it just makes the words tumble out of her mouth, “When Henry brought me to Storybrooke, he told me I was the Savior. I didn’t see what he was really doing. He was not bringing me back to break a curse, he was bringing me home.”

And she misses it. Misses the loft, misses the diner, the clocktower and library, misses the docks and the forests, and her parents and her brother, and Henry, misses the grilled cheese and onion rings, misses the cocoa with cinnamon, the coffee at the sheriff’s station, misses the feel of magic and Leroy’s screaming about danger, misses it all, and Neal was right, because she feels at home in Storybrooke, at home with Henry and her parents and her brother and she wants to go home, because “Being with my parents these last few days but not really being with them — I’ve never missed them more.”

She’s ready to accept it now. “Storybrooke — it’s my home,”

But Killian is smiling down at her, knowing and proud, and she doesn't know why he’s smiling, but it’s Killian and she can’t help but return his smile. “What?”

“Look down,” is all he says, still looking entirely to proud and pleased and smug, and the wand is working, and she’s just staring, looking back at him to see if it really is, if she really does — “I’d say you’ve got your magic back,” he says simply. “Now, shall we go?”

18.

Emma’s home. Emma’s home, and she’s called her parents mom and dad and Henry is delighted by the fact that they're staying now, and she is too, except —

Except something isn’t right, something is missing, someone is missing, and she has told the story of her fairytale adventure, has shared her success to he mom and her dad and Henry, and even her baby brother but —

But Killian, who had been by her side throughout it all, who was the only piece of home she had left as they were trapped in the past, Killian who had taken her to Rumplestiltskin, helped plan Snow stealing the ring, who had taken her hand and led her to the dance floor, who had opened himself to her as they danced her first dance at her first royal ball — Killian who had pulled her close when she thought her mother was about to die, who comforted her and wiped her tears, who she is halfway —

He is not at her side now. She misses him.

He isn’t even in the diner. She finds him alone outside, and her heart aches at the lonely picture he paints, playing with his flask.

She does not want him to be alone.

“So,” she starts lightly, taking the seat closest to him, “do you think Rumplestiltskin is right? I’m in the Book now. He said everything besides our little adventure would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?” She does not even know why she’s asking this, just knows she doesn't want him to sit alone.

“He’s right,” he says, “Otherwise I’d remember that damn bar wench I kissed.” he eyes her slightly, and Emma has to laugh, how would that prove anything, because Hook had looked right through her as well, does not look at her like Killian does, like he’s in —

But Killian just smirks at her, looking unfairly attractive as he reminds her, “I know how you kiss. I’d have gone after her. But I didn’t, my life went on exactly the same as before.”

“Must’ve been the rum,” she murmurs, because he isn’t lying.

“Everything’s back to normal. You’re a bloody hero, Swan,”

“So are you,” she reminds him, because sometimes it seems he needs the reminding, and he only chuckles, only looks away, but Emma won’t let him dismiss it that easy, not when he has done so much for her and for her family, not when he had brought her back from New York, “I wanted to thank you, Killian.”

He looks up, meets her eyes, and he looks so confused, as if she has no reason to thank him, and it just makes her want to push this further, regardless of the more dangerous territories the conversation might head towards. “For going back for me in the first place in New York. If you hadn’t —“

“It was the right thing to do,” is all he says, and Emma — Emma has wondered, for so long how, how he found her, how he tracked her down, for he crossed realms to find her, to save her, to bring her home. She’s been dancing around the question for so long. “How did you do it? How did you get to me?”

(Emma doesn't even know if she’s talking about New York or her heart.)

“Well, the curse was coming. I ditched my crew and took the Jolly Roger as fast and as far as I possibly could to outrun it.” he says it like it’s nothing, you outran a curse, but she should really stop being so surprised by him, “I’m a hell of a captain,” he laughs, and continues, “And once I was outside the curse’s purview, I knew that the walls were down, transport between worlds was possible again... all I needed was a magic bean,”

“Those are not easy to come by,” he shifts, then, looks away from her, looks uncertain and melancholic and suddenly, Emma feels that she is missing something major, and Killian looks like he doesn’t want her to press anymore, but —

“They are if you’ve got something of... value to trade.”

“And what was that?” she asks lightly. How many doubloons or jewels or gold and treasure —

“Why the Jolly Roger, of course.” he says as if it’s obvious, as if it’s something anyone would do, as if it was just another object, another piece of jewelry, like it wasn’t possibly one of the biggest sacrifices he could make, and Emma —

Stares.

Stunned.

Because he’s plastered on a forced smile, kept his tone light, because he’s trying to shrug it off like it’s nothing, trying to keep his bravado up, as if it’s —

Maybe she heard wrong, you traded your ship for me, but he only drops the act, and he’s staring at her, honest, “Aye.” and she knows, knows what this means to him, to her, knows he’s giving her his heart to keep or break, knows he likely wouldn’t care either way, because he came back for her, took her to Neverland, helped save her father’s life, helped save Henry’s life, and he bore his heart to her for the first time on the beanstalk, and again under the decks of his ship, in Neverland, at the town line, in New York, in the forests of Storybrooke, in the past, knows she has had his heart for so long now, and she knows he wouldn’t break her heart because he is who he says he is.

Because he’s saying it not to gain favor but simply because she had asked and he didn't want to lie. Because she thinks she might already be halfway in love with Killian Jones. Because she’s tired of denying that she couldn't bear to lose him in her life.

So she kisses him, and he doesn’t even move until her lips are pressed to his, letting her take the lead and they are kissing for the first real time, because Neverland was passion and attraction and heat of the moment, but now, now doesn't kiss him for his ship, or as thanks or for some diversion tactic, she kisses him because she can’t bear not to, because as much as she had buried away her weaknesses, as much as she put up mile high walls around her heart, he sees right through them, and waits patiently for the ones he can’t get past, and she wants to let him in.

They stop for a breath and she smiles at him, because it’s perfect, and he smiles in return, and this time he is the one leaning in, and Emma’s letting down her walls to love her family, to love her home, to someday, maybe, love Killian, and she’s letting down her walls to be loved in return, and she has never felt more safe, has never felt more at peace.

She thinks she’s finally ready to take that chance and let him in.

#ouat #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #cs ff #my fanfic #j’s stuffs #a map and a shovel (to my achilles’ heel)#title from Sleeping At Last’s ‘Eight’#this is basically analysis headcanons and metas disguised as fic #introspective as hell #vaguely anti neal sentiments expressed in this chapter #but I was writing it as critically as I can #which also means addressing the trauma neal put her through #and her own canon thoughts and feelings regarding neal #regardless of whether or not you think he did it intentionally or not #an irresponsible amount of italics #once again it’s my first time I’d love to know what anyone thinks good or bad hit me #seriously so much italics someone take these away from me

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moonmothmama · 3 years ago

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ok so we've been watching Kenobi, but we like to do it on the weekends, because then we have the time to take the projector out into the backyard after it gets dark and watch it on the miniature big screen. and that has been an excellent decision.

today our niece hung out with us while we watched even though she isn't into star wars and didn't know any of the context for what was going on. she's a good kid lol.

it was fine* bc we finally started watching the new season of stranger things immediately after, which she's been harping on us to get around to watching. we watched one episode outside and then the next inside because my laptop battery was dying

*- by fine i mean that both things were so good but also i'm like emotionally exhausted holy shit that was intense

also i'm not gonna turn this into a stranger things reaction post because a) i'm not even close to caught up and b) this post is about star wars, but since i mentioned it: oof, Eleven's Normal Kid Type School Problems... that shit is ROUGH

ok so about Kenobi

i got so emotional over the scenes w/ Anakin? this had me at the emotional level of clone wars and rebels. the prequels were... the writing had some serious problems, let's say. not a controversial opinion i know. let me go on record that i do not and have never blamed the actors for the prequels' flaws. but anyway.

shit man, this was good as hell. THIS had me really feeling the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker. and god it hurts. what i mean by "at the level of clone wars and rebels" is, the whole fucking range of feelings, from like, that betrayal of a character you LIKED and ROOTED for falling so far, even though you knew it would happen... it hurts because it feels like he could've been saved, but he wasn't, and it also feels like you personally have been let down by this person, along with the other characters.

the things he's done are so terrible, so unforgivable, and it only makes it hurt worse knowing the kind of man he used to be, and could have been if things had been a little different, and knowing that it's still him. someone that, yeah, had issues! serious ones! but who loved so hard and did so much good... who had his compassion twisted into something hideous by the manipulation of someone who exploited his flaws/weaknesses. if only things had been a little different! it didn't have to be that way! but it was that way, and he leaned all the way into that hideousness. he became a monster.

shit, that hurts so much.

frankly i was near tears every time they had a flashback.

also the second that Reva had that grand inquisitor thing pinned on her i just fucking. oh boy i knew something Bad was gonna happen to her. and like, yeah she's an antagonist, but a) her origin story was pretty easily guessed and b) even if it wasn't, her presence is redolent with bitterness, and you don't become that bitter without some seriously bad shit having happened to you. even before it's clear that she's here on some kind of fucked up revenge thing you get that air of tragedy about her too.

and so many people in star wars do terrible things out of pain, and fear, and anger, and so on. and sometimes the bad guys win and shit goes to hell. but there's always someone else out there trying to make shit better through all that exhausting painful shit. and no matter how bad it gets there's always room to keep hoping that it actually will get better.

and like as much as star wars as a whole has serious problems- both egregious ones that could easily have been prevented, and ubiquitous problems that are baked into it- that's the appeal of it, that there's so much tragedy and yet it's still about hope in the end. that things can get better even after so much loss and suffering. that they can get better even when the threat persists.

not to be corny but like that's it right there. star wars might be a trash fire sometimes but when it's good it's REALLY good**, because that's the kind of story humanity will always need to tell and be told.

**- and those two things can coexist within the same star war tbh

but yeah.

Kenobi has been consistently impressive so far imo. it came out swinging and hits real hard, right where it counts

#blogging on my blog #sw kenobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #inquisitor reva #also i knew the moment tala was introduced that she was going to die #didn't make it hurt any less when she did though

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Witch”

Happy Saturday, everyone! Well, it's perhaps happier provided you didn't watch today’s episode lol. Getting through these 18 minutes felt like watching an extended version of a CinemaSins vid. I heard a little 'ding!' every time something nonsensical, contradictory, or just downright stupid happened. My mind became a pinball machine.

Which, in the interest of being fair as opposed to just snarky, only matters if you're looking for something resembling emotional depth in this show. RWBY, for all its faults, is enjoyable as a mindless spectacle. It's when you expect — or simply hope — for anything more that this very fragile house of cards comes tumbling down.

If it’s not clear already, today’s recap contains copious amounts of salt. Fair warning.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let’s dive in. Episode nine is titled "Witch," which is fitting since many members of our group go toe-to-toe against Salem herself. The narrative issues inherent in having your heroes fighting their final boss years before the series is meant to end might have been avoided if it weren't for Oscar's ridiculous, sacrificial attack... but we'll get to that.

We open with a sweeping shot of the Atlas battle, as hundreds of dead soldiers segue into endless grimm. Hold onto that image for a bit. At the end of this carnage is, of course, the mouth of the whale. We cut to Jaune, Ren, and Yang already safely inside.

"Well," says Yang, "that was harrowing."

I'm on the fence about this choice. On the one hand, yes, it's good that RWBY knows it can skip over extraneous scenes. We have NINE characters to keep track of and develop, fourteen if you count Ozpin, Maria, Winter, Ironwood, and now Whitley. Plus villains. There simply isn't time to show every insignificant moment... but was this insignificant? Obviously finding Oscar and escaping Salem's clutches is the true hurdle of this mission, but that doesn't mean getting through an entire army of grimm is in any way a cake walk. I'd be more willing to ignore this time skip if it weren't likewise presented as such a challenge for Winter's team. They have to "clear a path" to the whale, but our trio got there unscathed and unnoticed? The obvious implication here is that Ren just masked them the whole way — supported by his aura breaking later in the episode — but it still feels like we missed an important chunk of this task.

I'm nit-picking though. As said, I’m straddling the fence on this one and, given that, I'm inclined to settle on a, "Good job, RWBY. You're keeping the writing tight," if only because I don't have much else to praise about this episode. Throw the poor, struggling show a bone lol.

Now that they're inside, they realize they haven't the slightest idea how they'll find Oscar. “Like finding a needle in a giant…whale… why did we think this was a good idea?!” Because you and your friends are idiots who no longer bother to think about a situation before throwing yourself straight into it? This isn't me being mean to Yang, she literally says as much later on. Our heroes no longer get by on intellect, strategy, and skill, but rather plot armor and a staggering number of coincidences. For example, Ren.

Yang: Wow, it sure is lucky for us that on our way to this incredibly dangerous mission Ren inexplicably developed a new part of his semblance. Now he can not only mask peoples' emotions, see the true emotions that someone is feeling, pull thoughts out of their head about what they believe about a situation, but can also track someone across long distances through their emotions alone. Even that doesn't actually help us find Oscar, we just got lucky again when, in this maze of a whale, he ran right into us!

Me: So what were you going to do if this meta-world stopped giving you the most contrived solutions in Remnant history?

Yang: Die gloriously, I guess.

What Yang actually says is, "Okay. That's new!" and they enter the literal belly of the beast wielding a shield of convenience.

Jaune is also being awkward again because remember, RWBY doesn't know when to incorporate humor and when to treat a situation seriously. He reminds Ren not to "drain [himself]," he'll help him, and it's clear the scene is hinting at their earlier fight. There's a lot to unpack there, but I want to save it for the second conversation.

For now, we cut to Oscar, curled up in his cell, repeating stories to comfort himself. Yeah that's fine. I could use a broken heart right before Valentine's Day.

“She brushed off her bumps and bruises, for nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest." It's a line from The Girl Who Fell Through the World, which Ozpin recognizes given that he's "lived through" a fair number of fairy tales. He immediately asks how Oscar is holding up — because he's a caring person! — and Oscar admits that he never understood why the girl of the tale was sad upon reaching home again. Now he does: she wasn't the same person anymore. I don't think the fact that Oscar has had both a metaphorical fall — leaving his farm to 'fall' into this war — and a literal one — falling through Atlas to unlock his magic — is lost on anyone. This is a nice allusion to our themes. Yang's speech to Salem later on? That’s something else entirely.

Storytelling done, Ozpin says he thinks "this plan to divide might have run its course” and it's time to try and find a way to leave. I'm sorry, I love my farm boy, but what plan? He didn't do anything. At least nothing that could remotely be termed an intellectual plot. Oscar convinced Ozpin to try and turn Hazel by telling him the world would end under Salem's rule and the only reason that worked is because the story decided to chuck out Hazel's entire character. You know, the one that hates Ozpin above all others, wants the world remade into a non-Academy horror show, can't understand that people make their own choices, is terrified of Salem, and has no reason to trust a prisoner he's currently torturing. Oscar's "plan" hinged on his writers erasing a great deal of work to build a new story that fits said “plan.” He didn't even get Emerald involved, she just — again, conveniently — eavesdropped outside their door at just the right moment.

To be clear, I'm not against a story being written to work in the hero's favor. Of course things are going to be convenient in a happy-ending tale. Someone manages to hold out just as long as they need to, a sword is lying just within reach, you, yes, happen to run into the one person you're desperate to find. This kind of stuff is reassuring, telling its audiences that sometimes things do work out for the best. It's enjoyable... but only provided the hero's entire success doesn't hinge on fate being shockingly kind to them. That's what RWBY has become. A world where Salem doesn't attack Mantle, Amity Tower is suddenly finished, the group can charge into any deadly situation they want to and bank on destiny twisting around itself to ensure they come out of it safely. A hero finding a convenient weapon nearby to defeat their enemy with is only reassuring after we've seen them implement a brilliant attack, struggle, nearly win, but then suddenly be faced with failure, necessitating that little push from coincidence. They earned it. The hero doesn't get to run in blindly and find a Defeat Bad Guy plot point gift wrapped for them at the first sign of trouble. They just die.

RWBY used to be a better written show because that's precisely Pyrrha's story. She charged a Maiden unprepared, without a single plan or hope for success, and she died. That's what happens in a dangerous, internally consistent world, but RWBY has since lost the second half of that formula.

I'm harping on this because this entire episode is built on that foundation of coincidence, something that shouldn't be happening at all, but especially not when you're pitting the heroes against Salem herself.

So yeah, it just gets worse from here.

Back to Oscar. Without the cane magic is the only weapon they have at their disposal, but he's reluctant to use it because every time he does, they merge more quickly.

They... do?

Okay, there are three major problems with this announcement:

I'm pretty sure we've only seen Oscar use magic once: creating that barrier to survive the fall through Atlas. That was the point of his near death experience, to unlock something that had previously been unavailable to him. Yet if he's only used it once, why is he so sure that it hurries the merge along? What's this "every time" business? This confusion could have easily been avoided if the show had just let Oscar use his magic this volume, tackling some other questions and gaps in the process. Let him use it to fight off the grimm in Mantle, giving him the opportunity to admit to at least Jaune, Ren, and Yang that Ozpin is back. He could have used some magic against the Hound with Ozpin's encouragement, answering the question of why he was entirely silent while the two of them got their ass beat. Give us a moment where Oscar uses his magic against Hazel, nearly escaping in the process, but is captured again at the last moment. Basically, his line makes it sound like magic has been this ongoing resource with an established downside when... it hasn’t.

Coinciding with all of the above, how is it that Oscar can suddenly use magic at will? Yeah, yeah, he unlocked it during the fall, but really? You open up the magic gates and from then on out it's as natural as breathing? This is the same issue with Ruby's silver eyes. The story gives these characters incredible powers, but never has them talking about how they work, let alone training them. They just exist, perfect in execution, as soon as the plot needs them. (See: the final shot of this episode.) At least Weiss had to practice her summoning for multiple volumes.

Finally, the question of how Oscar instinctively knows how to use magic could easily be answered with, "Well, he's kind of Ozpin now," but that would require the story to actually explain what the merge is. "We merge faster," Oscar says, but what does that mean? The Ozpin and Oscar we see in this scene are fundamentally indistinguishable from the Ozpin and Oscar who existed at his aunt's house, four whole years ago. They're still separate people, with one controlling the body and the other existing as a consciousness he can talk to. Nothing has changed. The show keeps insisting that Oscar is going through this deep and painful arc of losing himself to Ozpin... despite the fact that he has yet to lose a single bit of Oscar-ness. Has he changed? Well of course, but anyone going through these experiences is going to change. Remove the "merge" aspect and Oscar's confidence or power up is likewise indistinguishable from any of the other characters' developments. Nora is becoming more of an individual this volume. Ren is becoming more powerful in his semblance. Neither have an Ozpin to force that change, it just happens on its own. So what separates Oscar from every other character going through a formative experience? When is “I’m not the same person anymore” due to unnatural magic vs. just growing up?

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy our boy is getting more screen time — and that the cast is actually being kind to him now — but overall his arc is objectively terrible. He bought some clothes, told Ironwood he was as bad as Salem, told Hazel how to access the Relic, and then asked him not to be a villain anymore. Somehow these things are presented as significant moments of growth while the real questions surrounding his merge go unanswered.

“Honestly, I think you’re doing just fine on your own," Ozpin tells him, but he's not. God knows our boy is trying, but this is a moment where Ozpin's self-hatred (and the story's insistence that the younger generation is intrinsically better than the older) is blinding him to the situation. Oscar has made terrible decisions lately, in as much as he's been able to decide anything at all, and now he's rejecting escaping captivity because he's terrified of a concept he doesn't even understand yet. None of that is fine. Reassurance is one thing, but painting this situation as Oscar making better choices than he would with Ozpin's input is insane. He literally just decided to keep them in Salem's clutches indefinitely because something something magic is scary, I guess. Oscar doesn't need a, 'You're better than me' speech, he needs a reality check so they don't both die. Remember back in Volume 5 when Oscar, a brave but idiotic 14 year old, insisted on fighting someone entirely out of his league and Ozpin was like,

then saved him from getting his head crushed in like a cantaloupe? We need more of that. Our teenage heroes need guidance, but because RWBY keeps insisting that every adult they encounter is corrupt or incompetent, that hasn't happened in three volumes. They're just aloud to decide things like, “Let's tell our captor the Relic's password because UwU ~trust~” and then the story bends over backwards to make that work. Instead we could, you know, let characters learn that they can be wrong.

The snow scene was the beginning, but RWBY really went off the rails the day it let Qrow warn the group against stealing from and attacking an allied city, only for them to call him an idiot for doubting them. Now, Ozpin doesn't even get to warn Oscar about stupid decisions, he just agrees with them, reassuring and passive. Never mind the complication of whether Ozpin is even emotionally capable of providing guidance after they labeled him the worst thing to ever happen to them.

Why does RWBY keep ruining my faves 😔

Anyway, we’ve got to stay on track. Oscar has decided to just lie there but, luckily for him, Hazel's redemption — I use that term so loosely — has begun. He drags Oscar out of his cell before we cut to Winter.

She's leading a portion of Ironwood's army, trying to get things ready for when the bomb arrives. Neon and Flynt are a part of her team, sharing scared glances and trying to remain optimistic. It's a legitimately hard-hitting moment, striking that balance between horror and hope. Funny though, I wonder that RWBYJNOR would think of their friends fighting for evil Ironwood...

Marrow, continuing the tradition of insisting that our heroes be both adults and kids simultaneously, looks sadly at the soldiers heading into battle and goes, "But... they're just kids." I would like to remind everyone reading that Ruby is younger than them. Anyone who thinks that these teenagers shouldn't be fighting grimm — the thing they have been training to do as their professional career, during an unprecedented attack on their home — should not simultaneously be looking to the girl who is two years younger as his savior. (Something that, while not overt yet, is very much where Marrow is heading as he continually doubts the Ace Ops and looks to RWBY's group as his new, moral leaders.) I'm glad that, for once, this perspective is firmly called out. Elm arrives to tell him point blank that he needs to figure out his personal ethics later. It doesn't matter because there's an army of grimm out there and monsters aren't going to spare anyone, adult or child. Quit philosophizing and kill some already.

Back to Hazel where we get the doorway shot from our trailer. He's taken Oscar to the Relic, because of course he has. Do I really need to list how convenient this is too? Apparently, "the moment we move that thing, this place goes on high alert," but there’s no alarm for when Oscar is taken from his cell, they enter the Relic's room, or when they use it. What does a movement alert matter if someone can just waltz in and waste the last question themselves? Put some of those endless grimm in the room to guard it, Salem!

Just assume that I am, at any given point in this episode, letting out the longest sigh my lungs are physically capable of.

Emerald shows up, demonstrating both the convenience of everyone arriving when they need to, and the very real danger that Salem herself could come in and discover what they're up to. Hazel has Oscar summon Jinn, only to immediately say that “Actually, I think all my questions are answered now.”

I'm sorry, how does this answer any of Hazel's questions? His driving question was not, "Is the Relic actually a magical object capable of doing magical things?" but rather "Are you telling me the truth about Salem's plans to summon the Gods and destroy all of Remnant in her quest to finally die, thereby changing who I'm going to support in this war?" Seeing a naked, blue djinn does not answer that question.

Hazel's "redemption" is non-existent. He — we — learned about Salem's death wish despite how that contradicts previous lore, then he trusted Ozpin despite that contradicting his entire character, now he joins the heroes because, literally, he sees Jinn floating there. It’s bad enough that Hazel goes from clear villain to sacrificial hero in a matter of in-world hours, but we don’t even get a reason for why that change occurred.

Oh, there's also this:

So Jinn doesn't come out of her lamp unless someone intends to ask a question, but does it for Ruby because she's special, yet still reiterates that this won't happen again. Then Oscar summons her without intending to ask a question, she comes out anyway, confirms that none of them seek knowledge from her, and happily pops back inside her lamp because eh, it’s whatever.

If RWBY had any courage the three of them would be cursed now for toying with a powerful, magical object. Remember the days when Jinn was a little terrifying because it felt like she was warping her answers and we had no idea what she might do to someone who used her carelessly? When she felt like a djinn? Good times.

Or better times, at least.

So Good Guy Hazel and Good Gal Emerald promise to get Oscar out. Never mind all the horror they caused, the people they killed, and that for Hazel, at least, this defection is coming out of nowhere.

Anyone remember that Emerald orchestrated Penny's death? No? Just me?

As they leave it turns out Neo was camouflaged against the wall, because she was also precisely where she needed to be. Does everyone just periodically pop into the Relic room to see what’s going on? At least this time it's not working in the heroes' favor. Remember when I said it's beyond idiotic for Oscar to just hand out the Relic information to known enemies currently holding him captive and torturing him?

Yeeeeaah.

So Neo's got the Lamp. Funny how all of this could have been avoided if Ruby had just put it in the vault like she came to Atlas to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We return to our trio where Jaune and Ren need to rest because their aura is giving out. Good! These guys fought a battle, fought Neo, fought more grimm, fought the Hound, traipsed through the tundra, presumably fought through more grimm to get to the whale, and have been using both their semblances to look for Oscar. It's about time their reserves started to falter.

Jaune decides to scout ahead a bit, leaving Yang and Ren to talk about nothing of importance. I mean that seriously. Remember a few days ago when I spoke about how, if the snow conversation does come back up, Ren's points would be entirely ignored for a nonsensical “I’m glad we’re friends” speech? Remember how I also spoke about how every emotional beat now is entirely generic and you could replace any character with another and not a single thing would change? Yeah. This is both those arguments in one. Nothing is said about the points Ren made. His problems with how the group has been acting lately and the very real, very deadly consequences it has had are flat out ignored. We went from

"But these aren't the kinds of decisions we should be making because we have no idea what we're doing!"

"Forward, no matter what!"

in a matter of hours, with precisely zero insight into how Ren went from one perspective to the exact opposite. Kind of like Hazel. Because see, RWBY doesn't write arcs, it just writes one thing until it decides to switch it up for something else, with the opposite idea presented as a “resolution” or a “twist.” Our creators writes scenes they know the fandom is begging for without considering how to get a character to that place, let alone how to get them out of it. That's all Ren's speech was, the equivalent of moral fan service. Here's a glimpse of actual character depth and a morally gray situation... now forget it ever happened because we're back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Instead of working through the laundry list of issues Ren raised, Ren instead accepts Jaune's aura help — something they've been doing since Argus — and tells Yang it's okay to be scared. These moments are meaningless and, as said, could have been between anyone in our cast. Ren could have told Nora she doesn't have to use jokes to cover up that she's scared. Jaune could have reminded Ruby that she can depend on him. Yang could have tried to keep Blake and Weiss' hopes up. This scenes ignores the individuality of the characters, like the fact that they just fought over very different world views, to instead favor any dime-a-dozen moment of support. The number of times this volume has rejected the conflict and resolution the group needs for bland, generic reassurances staggering.

Also, apparently Jaune isn't scared at all? I don't think that's as good a thing as Ren seems to think...

Then Jaune immediately rounds the corner, terrified lol.

One of the seer grimm is on its way and he tells Ren to mask them. Apparently he had been masking them before — one of the reasons he's so tired now, trying to do two things at once — but it's only here that they go black and white again. Ren manages to keep it up for a little while, but his aura breaks before the seer passes and they're spotted.

Hark! A consequence!

That was well done. It makes sense and it adds to the stakes. We've seen the insane amount of fighting the group has done since Volume 7, we just established that they're at their breaking point, and then Ren's aura fails him right when he needs it the most. Add this to the miniscule pile of things that were well done this episode.

Salem runs into Emerald and Hazel, the former of which is acting very suspicious when asked if he's made any headway with Oscar. The seer's alarm interrupts them though and... okay. Was I the only one who cackled during this moment? Between Salem's voice acting and the fact that she just yeets herself down the hallway, it came across as really funny to me.

Either way, it is a bad situation. Our trio is trying to figure out what to do, to which Yang responds, "Do what we do best… charge blindly into danger!!”

Ren's aura is broken. Jaune barely has any left and it’s unlikely he could heal right now even if Ren had any aura to amplify. If Ren takes a single hit anywhere important he is dead.

Me, on my knees, surrounded by the ashes of the Hound, the last bit of serious storytelling we had: "For the love of God, the kingdom is on fire and simultaneously dying of cold. There's a grimm army decimating hundreds outside. Half their group is missing and they're wandering lost inside a devil whale, about to have the most powerful being Remnant has ever known personally try to kill them — can we please have their attitudes reflect that?"

The answer, in case you were wondering, is no.

Back to the bomb. Whatever scientists were given this task have completed it and Marrow watches as it's flown out towards the whale. "Come on, Juan" he whispers and I'm all, "Juan?" Apparently it's a callback to last volume when Marrow couldn't remember Jaune's actual name, but it took me hopping onto the RWBY wiki to remember that.

As death via explosion inches closer, the trio runs into Hazel and Emerald. Turns out though that Hazel is really Oscar, disguised through Emerald's semblance. Nice trick! Jaune immediately drops both weapons to hug Oscar and, while that's nice and all, it's also the stupidest thing he could possible do in enemy territory. Also, Oscar has been beaten up by the Hound, tortured with magic, and likewise beaten bloody by Hazel. I was hoping for a tender hug like the one Nora gave him, not a giant squeeze for more comedy purposes. It just feels like RWBY has no idea how to manage the tone of this volume, let alone the torture of a child...

There's the obligatory, "Why should we trust you?" from Yang regarding Emerald joining the team, to which Ren responds, "Because she's scared, just like us."

That doesn't prove anything. Literally everyone is scared right now. There is a war going on. I really cannot emphasize enough how RWBY throws out Deep™ sounding lines that are, upon inspection, absolutely nonsensical. Nora reminding Penny that there are different parts to her personhood, Hazel saying that all his questions have been answered, Ren announcing that Emerald is scared... it's all worthless chatter that has no bearing on their problems: How do I keep from being hacked? How do I know you're telling the truth? How do we know you're trustworthy after you spent years trying to kill us? But of course, because it's RWBY, Ren's announcement is treated as some sort of secret truth that everyone accepts. Emerald joins up.

As they head for an exit we return to Marrow who, frankly, is getting on my last nerve. I know the fandom loves him because he's clearly leaning towards Team RWBY, but does anyone actually listen to what he says? He starts yelling at Winter for sending in the bomb because the trio might still be alive in there, despite:

Seeing for himself the hundreds of soldiers that have fallen trying to keep Atlas safe

Knowing and hearing again from Winter that the only way to stop this carnage is to take out the whale. Given more time, the whole city falls

Sadly announcing to the world that children shouldn't have to fight in a battle, rather than just joining the fray and helping to keep those kids safe

How does Marrow think those kids are going to be able to stop fighting? How does he think he'll get a city to return to? It's no wonder that he's drawn to Ruby because both characters stand around twiddling their thumbs, mourning that things are bad, and blaming others for imperfect solutions rather than doing something to make the situation better. Marrow's disgust at Winter over the bomb is precisely the same as Ruby's disgust at Ironwood over Mantle: how dare you not have a plan that results in both victory for us and zero sacrifices? They want perfection which, yes, is an admirable trait, but their problem is they refuse to do anything until that perfection appears. They’re paralyzed, a trait that’s particularly dangerous when your story insists that perfection will never appear: it’s not a fairy tale. So they just continue to get mad at others for the fact that they live in an unfair world. You want that perfect solution? Think it up yourself. Otherwise, stand aside and let those coming up with something do what they can to make things better.

Marrow goes so far as to drag Weiss into things, trying to guilt Winter with the knowledge that she'll have to relate the death of her sister's friends back to her. Winter, because she's a badass who isn't in denial over the situation, tells him that yes, she will shoulder that responsibility. To Marrow's credit he backs off then, but man. RWBY has legitimate moral questions here — when is holding out for a few worth risking the many? — but they go about exploring it in the most frustrating way possible. I personally have no respect for the guy who wants to announce that Children In War Is Bad instead of, you know, using the power he currently has to protect those kids already neck deep in a battle.

Because John Mulaney remains relevant:

"There shouldn't be a horse in the hospital :( "

"We're WELL PAST THAT."

Marrow is the one going, "There shouldn't be kids in a war :( We shouldn't have to kill a few to save the whole kingdom :( " and everyone around him is like, "No shit, dude! But this is the hand we were dealt! You going to help us, or what?"

Literally all of these characters could have been so much more than what they currently are.

Except Winter. She's doing great.

Now for the final scene. Our group nearly manages to escape the whale, but is incapacitated by some sort of screechy power that Salem employs.

She contorts her body, stretching out her arms to snag Emerald, and the others have a brief, but intense skirmish. Jaune manages to block a blast of magic aimed at Ren with his shield — nice — and Yang dots Salem's face with a bunch of bombs before blowing her sky-high — double nice. Oscar shoots out some magic of his own because, yeah, I guess he can just do that now? It really feels like it came out of nowhere after eight episodes of being the punching bag.

Of course, Salem immediately reforms. She traps the group with grimm arms that come out of the whale, interrogating Ozpin about why he bothers to keep coming back. There's a very sad answer there of, "I don't," referring to his lack of choice in reincarnating to fight her.

Yang interrupts their little tet-a-tet to throw the question back in Salem's face, calling her out on her choices. A great idea but, as always, execution: "because something bad happened to you once upon a time? No one gets a fairy tale ending."

I’m sorry, but that dialogue had me cringing. Like I said before, way too on the nose. There's keeping with the fairy tale theme, and then there's shoving the viewer's face in it. More of Oscar's musings on how he relates to the protagonists of fairy tales, blurring the lines between storytelling and reality, which in turn encourages the viewer to consider how they see themselves in the RWBY cast. Less... whatever this is.

Yang goes on to talk about how many people Salem has taken from her, which upon reflection makes a certain amount of sense if you toss in all the people who are here, but changed somehow due to Salem's influence, as well as acquaintances who died as a result of her meddling: Raven is scared off, Tai suffers as a result, Pyrrha dies, Penny dies, Yang loses her arm and her school. I think the dialogue could have been revised to reflect that better though because what Yang implies is that Salem has killed countless of her loved ones, yet what she says is, "Summer Rose. My mom." Honestly, for the few seconds this exchange was happening my thoughts weren't even on Summer. Yang calls Salem out for killing loved ones and my brain went, "Pyrrha??"

That's how little they've done with Yang and Summer. I know in the past I've argued that RWBY has a "better late than never" situation going on, that I would praise them for making the right writing choices even if they arrive years too late... but now that we're here, I find that it's a hard problem to overlook. Summer is Yang's mom? When's the last time we heard that? Volume 2? Whenever the conversation with Blake was. Since then Yang has called Raven "Mom," focused on that emotional connection (or lack thereof), was excluded from the conversation with Qrow, comforted Ruby after she was blindsided by Salem's taunt, and otherwise hasn't mentioned Summer at all. There is no foundation for this accusation except a few lines about getting cookies as a child and the fact that we're tossing references in now makes me worried that we'll indeed get a grimm!Summer reveal. Better remind the audience that she exists before the twist arrives! Honestly, as much as a part of me wants to praise RWBY for trying to get things back on track, moments like this just ring hollow now. They waited years and now it’s too late. It doesn't help that this is the episode where we shrug off Ren's speech. What will Yang's cutting admission amount to based on this trend? Probably nothing. Summer will become Yang’s mom again in another six seasons.

Salem, obviously, doesn't care. The real Hazel arrives and she orders him to take Oscar back to his cell. Instead, he gives him his cane with a whispered, "No more Gretchens, boy."

Behold, another meaningless line. Hazel hates Ozpin for "forcing" Gretchen on a mission and "getting" her killed. The whole point of his villainy is that he doesn't understand the concept of choice and that bad things can happen to good people with no one able to prevent it. Not every loss has a responsible party attached (outside of, you know, Salem/the grimm). So what is he even demanding here? No more huntsmen schools? That's what you wanted Salem for. No more "forcing" people to fight for you? Ozpin never did that in the first place. Or is it just a strange promise that no one else will die here? RWBY seems to be under the impression that they can just name drop dead family members — Summer, Gretchen — and that's that. Emotional depth created, never mind a lack of buildup or clarity.

Then Hazel punches Salem across the room and she releases every single hero from their bonds. See the theme of this episode: convenience. Hazel shoves a whole bunch of dust crystals into his shoulders and yells that he's doing what Gretchen would have wanted, clearly sacrificing himself so that the others can escape. The battle between him and Salem is pretty decent. I enjoyed the dust vs. magic creativity and the sheer damage Salem can take before reforming. This fight really showcases how not human she is.

It does, however, bring into question Hazel's reveal about her needing an hour to heal at the longest. I mentioned how unlikely it would be that our heroes would get the chance to "kill" her multiple times, yet here we are, just a few episodes later. They got that opportunity and... does it matter? Salem's reforming doesn't appear to slow down at all, despite her head getting obliterated at least three times, so at what point does she need longer than a few seconds to heal? If this was meant to be a potential weakness the group would eventually exploit, we needed to see it here, both for that setup and to keep it consistent with Hazel's story.

Regardless, they fight and at first it looks like a pretty straight-forward sacrifice on Hazel's part, giving the group their chance to escape. Except... Oscar.

"She'll just come after us," he tells Jaune, turning away from him to fight.

I need a list for this:

Of course she's going to come after you. This is not some shocking revelation. At no point has anyone thought that escaping the whale is the answer to all their problems, it just creates one less problem to deal with. Namely, the problem of "Our ally is captured, being tortured, and may give up important intel to the enemy. Oh, also he's about to be blown up with a bomb." Salem coming after them doesn’t matter. What matters is making her plans as difficult as possible as you work to come up with more solutions of your own. This is just a smaller version of the Ironwood conflict: “Well, Salem will just follow Atlas into the sky so it’s useless to attempt escape, or to buy ourselves time.” It’s really not. I know I’ve used this ridiculous comparison before, but if you’re ever chased by a horror movie serial killer hell-bent on your destruction and your reaction to this problem is, “Why run? He’ll just chase us. The only possible choice is to fight him with a 99% chance of our death,” then I beg you to re-evaluate things.

What was the point of coming to rescue Oscar if he was just going to stay behind? The whale is about to be blown up by a bomb and the trio risked their lives ten times over to get to him. If I were them I would be pissed. We went through all that to get you out and now you’re refusing to leave when we have a chance? Thanks for that.

Same with Hazel. Not that I care about the guy, but if I was sacrificing myself for others to escape I'd be pretty annoyed at them randomly deciding not to do that.

What does Oscar even think he's going to do? Kill the immortal witch? The entire point of our series is that they can’t do that (yet).

However, if he is able to do something significant via Ozpin's magic, why didn't Ozpin do that generations ago? Somehow I don't think a younger Ozma closer to the height of his power was in a worse position to attack Salem than a tortured, aura-less kid who unlocked his magic yesterday. The more RWBY reveals about Salem, the more I go, “Okay, but why didn’t his happen [insert any number of years] ago?”

Did Jaune actually leave? I assume he's just grabbing an airship or something before coming back to drag Oscar away, but seriously where did he go?

There's no way I can approach this scene without throwing up my hands and going, "What? WHY?" Which is a real shame because we finally get to see a bit of what the cane does and it’s... precisely what Ozpin's magic has always done? I mean, we saw that green shield five years ago and now there's a giant white beam. Okay.

If the beam just hits Salem with Generic Magic Power then there was never anything secret about the cane, it’s just, you know, Ozpin’s weapon. If the cane does something significant to hurt her we're left with the question of why it took literal generations to use it. Nothing is making sense to me and the only way I can think to salvage this scene is if Jaune runs back in, snags Oscar like a sack of potatoes, and runs out yelling about how he's clearly suffering from a concussion because what are you trying to accomplish here?

It doesn't help that this moment feels... final. Hazel has managed to hold Salem in place. Oscar has unlocked his cane and lands some mega hit right before Hazel passes out and looses his hold. Not only does this feel like a scene that should be at the end of the volume (we've still got five episodes), but also the end of the series. RWBY is building Salem into an unbeatable enemy by giving her more and more powers, and simultaneously eliminating the stakes by having our currently weakest character (in terms of exhaustion/injuries/aura/training) landing a shot like that. Why would you nerf Salem's threat level like that in the middle of a volume? Especially with a tool our group has had available from the start? If the cane does damage, maybe lead with that in the, “Here’s why we should stay and fight” office conversation.

I assume that Oscar's hit will obliterate Salem to the point where both he and Hazel have time to escape, or he obliterates both of them (“Do it”) and that's somehow presented as a better choice than just running while Salem is captured, or the bomb will interrupt things somehow... but it's just so shoddily done. At the very least, if they were going to have Oscar refuse to let someone fight alone, have it be an actual friend he's staying to assist. Having Oscar refuse his own rescue to help Hazel has more than one problem attached to it. We can say what we want about RWBY's themes of forgiveness, but this guy was torturing him just a few hours ago while serving Remnant's version of the devil. Just let him sacrifice himself and move on.

And that's where we end. Oscar powering up, the cane getting all magic-y, and him shooting a crazy big blast that engulfs both Salem and Hazel. I can't believe how not excited I am about my farm boy doing something badass, but here we are.

Overall I think this episode was way worse than last week's. We absolutely had problems in "Dark," particularly when it came to the Hound and the group's blind devotion to Ruby, but at least those moments were cushioned by an otherwise decent episode. "Witch" felt like I was watching something closer to a parody of RWBY, one deliberately poking fun at the fandom's desires: erase all conflict for awkward silly times, your favorite villains are instantly good now, the heroes go toe-to-toe with the main antagonist because why not, throw a bunch of magic in there for good measure, and wrap it all up in some over the top "this isn't a fairy tale" lines. I can see the pieces of a much better episode here — Emerald sneaking Oscar out with her semblance, Neo snagging the relic, Flint and Neon, Hazel attacking Salem — but it simply didn't come together.

I know I said this last time, but I have no idea what we're going to do for another five episodes. Salem slowly reforming from bomb damage as the group tries to keep Penny from opening the vault? The grimm attack halted with the whale gone so Qrow can go after Ironwood? The longer this volume runs, the more I think it was a mistake for them to introduce Salem as a fightable antagonist now. RWBY doesn't know what to do with her besides have her inevitably fall in the final season, so until then she's left being stupid (Relic), passive (Mantle), or, likely, written out of the story temporarily so the heroes can turn their attention towards smaller conflicts and weaker foes. They literally can’t beat Salem yet, but they can’t focus on other problems when she’s around without coming across as negligent, so if you have to find ways to erase her to make room for that... what was the point of bringing her here in the first place? We could have established that Salem is bound to her realm and had her send the Hound and whale to attack Atlas. There, all the fun parts of the volume without her complicated presence.

Well, the next five weeks will certainly be interesting, at the very least...

Until next time 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby witch #mymetas #rwby recaps

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stillness-in-green · 3 years ago

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*Sees three of the Advisers* Aaaaah, my obscure babbies! I'm glad to see you again! And they're actually doing something useful!!~....Just wished Horikoshi gave those three names. Guess I'll just call them the Three Mutant Trio.

Yes!! My god, I’m so excited about them! And also nervous, because I’m preparing to see how much I’m going to get jossed on my relatively established headcanons for two out of the three of them. But more excited, because YES, MLA remnants! Skeptic still talking about Re-Destro! The MLA caring about heteromorphic discrimination! MLA leadership fully prepared to elevate a weak-quirked heteromorph to the voice of their whole movement! No discussion at all of quirk supremacy, just more talk of liberation!

Seriously, I’m so pleased by the idea of the MLA holding up Spinner as their new voice. I’m not so blinded by my MLA Standom that I think they’re doing it because they believe Spinner himself--or anyone in the League--really wants to be their new voice, but I do look at it as pretty solid evidence that, as I’m always harping on about, the precepts of Liberation are more concerned with freedom and acceptance than with power. If they were just looking for the person who’s An Strongest, after all, they’d go with Shigaraki or Dabi, but they went with Spinner instead. This means they think Spinner’s existence can speak to their ideals--it must follow, then, that at least this group of MLA types believes their ideals are compatible with the fact of Spinner’s weak quirk.

And maybe people like Trumpet or Geten would disagree, but, you know, it’s not news that there are people in the MLA who have different interpretations of the precepts. Geten’s interpretation never clicked with anything about Skeptic’s role and talents; a bunch of MLA heteromorphs looking at Spinner, looking at the cult following Spinner is picking up amongst dissatisfied heteromorphs across the country, and thinking, “Yep, that’s our guy,” when Trumpet would go, “Ugh, really? Him?” is entirely in keeping with the idea that the MLA attracts people for a variety of different reasons because the status quo hurts a variety of different people.

But, as regards the Spinner Squad specifically, one thing I hope we do get is the girl one (Nimble, at least until I get another name for her) getting anything cool to do. I am extremely fond of the one with all the speaking lines (Scarecrow, ditto), but he is Spinner’s Number Two; Nimble is Spinner’s Number One. I’ll be a little sad if Scarecrow is the one taking the lead every time we see him just because his personality is more aggressive. On the other hand, if we find out that he does most of the talking not only because he’s a militant little firebrand, but also because Nimble’s lack of a mouth means that she can’t talk, I will be completely stoked that I totally nailed that in my fanfic treatment of her. She should definitely still get something to do to demonstrate why she’s the top-ranking member of the three, though.

Of course, I’m already totally stoked at the implication that the Spinner Squad are all heteromorphs, because it almost certainly means that Scarecrow’s weird bug legs are real limbs he was born with, meaning I did nail it in my fanfic treatment when I pegged him as some sort of insect heteromorph based on those legs and his small stature. No clue if the rest of my guesses about e.g. his prosthetics will be anywhere near the right ballpark, but I’m very excited to find out.

And yes, very excited as well to get anything more on Cementoss’s Unsettling Cousin, one of the advisors I had the fewest thoughts about because there was so little to go on.

I have some concerns about the development, certainly. We already know Shouji is due for some big scene later, and there’s a long history of stories juxtaposing the “nice/good” minority member against the “extremist/bad” minority member; Spinner and the MLA stand to slot neatly into that extremist=bad position, and that’s not even getting into the idea of bad actors like All For One trying to steer the movement. But dammit, Mezo “Has worn a face mask for over 300 chapters because he’s ‘kind’ and doesn’t want to ‘scare’ people” Shouji has not earned being the “good” spokesperson for heteromorph rights.

I’m sympathetic to him, but the kid didn’t even push back when a classmate directly insulted him based on his heteromorphic appearance. You can’t be a voice for change when you’re being silent! I welcome him speaking up, but before he looks at the audience to tell us, “Spinner and them have a point, but they are Taking Things Too Far,” he should start by pushing back against the way certain of his classmates and friends resort to bigoted language against heteromorphs as soon as a heteromorph makes them angry/annoyed/mildly inconvenienced.

That said, even with my concerns, Chapter 329 was such a breath of fresh air. Moreover, it was a triumphant vindication against the anime’s butchering of Spinner’s arc and, very specifically, the decision to cut the CRC+any and all mention of heteromorphobia. Suck on that, BNHA Production Committee.

#shockersalvage #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #iguchi shuichi #bnha spinner #meta liberation army #paranormal liberation front #plf advisors #stillness answers

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somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years ago

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Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary: They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje.

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

#hetafamilyweek2021 #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hetalia #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #aph friesland #aph holland #aph groningen #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #sibling banter #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

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ellewritesathing · 4 years ago

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Infernal VII

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.3k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 7

A/N: we’re back witches

The Shores of Sorrow was never meant to be a peaceful place. It was perfectly designed to torture lost souls for eternity, to damn them to an existence where they are forgotten by all except the high tides that mercilessly embraced them. Perfectly designed for torment, and yet you felt nothing but peace as the waves washed over your feet and the sun clung to the horizon … that is, until you sensed the demon behind you.

With a quick exhale, you summoned the Harpe and let it guide your muscles to cut down your attacker as you turned. Though it had been clumsy and cumbersome when Caliban had first given it to you, you’d grown used to the weight of the sword and learned the necessity of the sickle. The Harpe was an extension of yourself.

“Careful, love.” Caliban wielded his smile as dangerously as you wielded the Harpe. He’d jumped out of the way of your blow, but his The Doors t-shirt was too slow. The Harpe tore through the right side of his shirt, barely missing his skin. “You could hurt someone like that.”

Tilting your head to the side and leveling your sword at him, you said, “That’s kind of the point, babe. Sorry about your shirt though.”

Caliban looked at the Harpe for a moment before smiling to himself and stepping backward. Kneeling down and sinking his hands into the sand, he said, “I think it suits me better this way, don’t you?” He rose with twin obsidian daggers.

“I think it would look a lot better if you weren’t threatening me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’d like to see what those malignants have taught you.”

“Oh, would you now?”

Grinning, Caliban twirled the daggers and struck out. He was fast, but you’d been trained to be faster.

You pulled the Harpe in to block the dagger headed for your chest and swiped to knock it to one side. Caliban turned into the movement so as not to lose the blade. He circled you with a dangerous smile, searching for a weak spot. You knew he’d found one when he tossed one of the daggers in the air and caught it with an overhand grip. Yet his determination still surprised you when he lunged and aimed a strike at your side.

Dropping the Harpe, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer - ignoring the stinging in your side to make a play for the other dagger. Caliban laughed at the clumsy attempt until you kneed him in the gut.

Twisting out of his hold, you summoned the Harpe and readied yourself for the next attack. For a while, Caliban moved in insufferable silence, but soon he started throwing witticisms and critiques your way as well. As distracting as the words were, they kept you from overthinking. Your moves were smoother, hits were harder, and strikes quicker. Still, you were restrained; no matter how easy it would have been to lean into the Harpe’s viciousness, you couldn’t risk hurting Caliban.

The sparring only stopped once you’d knocked each other to the ground, a dagger pressed to your ribcage and the Harpe at Caliban’s throat. You were frozen, the never-setting sun washing his features in pale pink light and contrasting the flecks of gold in his eye. He smiled.

“If this were a real fight-” he pulled the dagger back to twirl around his index finger before throwing it into the sand, “I would have cut out your heart by now.”

“If this were a real fight-” you leaned down slightly, applying ever so much more pressure to the Harpe “-I would have summoned Hellfire in your lungs and watched you burn alive by now.”

With a dangerous smile of your own, you pulled the Harpe back and let it vanish as you rolled over to a seat. The sun hung ambivalently on the horizon, blanketed in clouds. With the water slowly washing the shore, you could almost forget the souls of the damned drowning further out to sea.

As you sighed, Caliban rolled on his side to face you, head cradled in his hand. He touched your elbow and ran his index finger along your arm as he said, “Summoning Hellfire is new. Last week you just threatened to stop my heart.”

Truth be told, you couldn’t have stopped his heart even if you wanted you. You’d learned to master many of the gifts Lilith had given you, but telekinesis always gave you a nasty headache. “Keeping track of my powers in case I’ll follow through one of these days?” you asked, turning to him with an easy smile. You reached over and pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

Catching your hand with his, Caliban said, “Not at all.” Carefully, deliberately, he ran his thumb across the outside of your hand, connecting the scars scattered along your skin. “I won’t mind if you do, but I only ask in a vain attempt to determine when Lilith will be satisfied with your training.”

You choked out a laugh. “Lilith is never going to be satisfied with my training.” Rolling your eyes, you moved from your seat to lie in the sand. You stared at the clouds ahead, darker than you’d ever seen in Hell. “Every time I get the hang of one ability, she comes up with some fresh punishment. I’m hoping she’ll chill out once my replacement is born.”

Caliban was quiet. He looked at you with the same curious, indecipherable expression he’d used when you met on the Shores of Sorrow; jaw clenched, mouth barely upturned, and eyes searching. You asked what he was searching for.

“I was wondering where exactly I fit in the grand plan,” he said.

“Right next to me?” He didn’t seem convinced. You reached for his hand again. “Honestly, I don’t know where I fit into the plan either, but I do know they’re showing all the Alien movies at the Paramount this Friday. Maybe you could-”

A drop of rain landed on your face, but when you wiped it away, your hand was smeared black. You bolted upright, and the world around you shook.

“Caliban, what’s happening?”

“Someone’s trying to wake you, but you have to be careful-”

Electricity cracked through your skull, the pain so overwhelming that you didn’t register the tightness in your chest at first. Every muscle in your body ached, cramping from the sudden tension. You’d only experienced this kind of pain your first time using dream manipulation, when Lilith purposely pulled you out too suddenly to teach you the dangers of the waking world.

Lilith wasn’t the one who woke you this time. The white spots faded from your vision to give way to your dad, frantic and shaking you. By the time your hearing came back, he'd moved to the window. He rocked on his heels as he peered between your curtains. His words were incomprehensible.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

Your dad turned his whole body to look at you. He blinked twice, slowly, before saying, “Oh, good. You’re awake. All the lights are out.”

Gingerly, you tested your muscles before trying to sit up. Everything still hurt, but you could move. “Did you try messing with the breaker?”

“I was an English major,” he told you seriously.

You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was at least lucid enough to crack a joke. He’d gotten better when Lilith was still coming around, but she stopped visiting almost as soon as she started. “I’ll go see if it’s affecting anyone else or just us.”

Crawling out of bed, you waited for the world to come into focus before making your way through the house to the breaker in the garage. You were just about to open the door when the toaster dinged behind you. It was working perfectly. The fridge was cool inside, even if the light wasn’t working. The only flaw you could find with any of the appliances you checked was the lack of light.

With a shudder, you told your dad that you were going to Sabrina’s.

He’d seemed completely himself since you woke up, but now he looked at you with a glassy expression that you knew all too well. Instead of telling you to be careful or that he’d see you soon or that he loved you, he said, “The instruments of darkness tell us truths.”

“Right,” you said with a sigh. You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll keep that mind.”

---

One thing that you never understood about the Spellmans was that they never locked their doors. You understood now that a lock couldn’t keep out the threats they faced and there was no need to keep out their friends, but you still smiled to yourself as you let yourself in through the backdoor. Once inside, you found Sabrina, Ambrose, Nick, and Prudence huddled around the breakfast table as Ambrose warned them against something he called the eldritch terrors.

He told them to imagine a world without light, just perpetual darkness. Chaos would follow, and eventually so would death. You shuddered at the dark clouds in your dreams. “Worse comes to worst,” he said, “We cannot allow the darkness to escape Greendale.”

Prudence promised to work with the coven to seal Greendale’s borders as Nick offered to work with the Fright Club to contain the miners. Sabrina and Ambrose would work to disperse the darkness. None of them sounded very hopeful.

You took a step forward and tried to sound braver than you felt. “I can help.”

“Okay, sure,” Sabrina said, nodding at Ambrose over her shoulder. If she was surprised to see you after lurking in the corner of her kitchen, she didn’t say anything about it. “You can help Nick look for a spell to stop the miners.”

“No, Brina, that’s not what I meant.” Taking a deep breath, you held out your hand, palm up to the sky. You summoned the Hellfire and let the dark paint the flames and your eyes black. “I can help.”

There was only one time in your life that you’d ever left Sabrina Spellman at a loss for words: you were nine years old and Billy was testing the limits of the school’s zero-tolerance bullying, Sabrina was using her words the way Aunt Hilda had told her to, and you used your push-kick the way your dad had told you to. The speechless that overcame her now, however, was a different breed. When you were young, it had been a kind of admiration; now, it was a kind of betrayal. The quiet of a broken promise.

While Sabrina was still processing how her best friend could summon Hellfire, Prudence leaned in closer. She tilted her head as she took you in, intrigued by you for the first time since you’d met her. Even as Nick dragged her out, she kept her eye on you like a cat watches a mouse. Just before she disappeared, she winked at you.

You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Prudence Blackwood that you didn’t notice Sabrina’s recovery and Ambrose’s diatribe. She pointed out that even if you could keep the darkness at bay long enough for her to create light, her powers wouldn’t be enough. Ambrose argued that the consequences of her suggestion would be cataclysmic.

“Aren’t we facing something cataclysmic?” she asked.

Ambrose sighed. Sabrina, begrudgingly, had made a fair point. “How do we go about this? No one other than myself can see the two of you together.”

“Uh, hi?” You stepped forward carefully. “Could one of you please explain what’s going on?”

Sabrina looked at Ambrose uncertainly. He nodded - after rolling his eyes - and she took a deep breath. “Remember when I gave up being Queen of Hell?”

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t really do that. I broke a time loop and created another version of myself so that I, Sabrina Spellman, could have this life and she, Sabrina Morningstar, could continue being Queen of Hell.”

“Damning the rest of us to a universe that could potentially fold in on itself in the process,” Ambrose finished.

“Oh.” You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised that there were two Sabrinas - it didn’t make sense for Caliban to tell you stories about Sabrina advocating for reforms in Hell when you’d seen in her homeroom that same morning stressing about a trig midterm - but you were surprised she’d managed to keep it a secret so long. “This explains why you were muttering about time paradoxes when we were researching the fairy circles outside the Academy,” you said to Ambrose.

All Ambrose could do was choke out a laugh and shake his head. “Yes, Scout, that is why I was muttering about time paradoxes and why I will die prematurely,” he said, turning on his heel to focus on Sabrina. “Get Sabrina Morningstar, keep contact to a minimum, and we will meet you both at the mines.”

“Got it!” With a grin, Sabrina disappeared to prepare a glamor.

Ambrose stared at her, stunned, before saying, “I think she’s actually enjoying this.”

“What’s not to enjoy?” you asked. You laughed at Ambrose’s outrage over your joke and told him you’d meet him at the mines. There was one thing you had to do before you took on the eldritch darkness.

Ambrose didn’t ask any questions; he just told you to be back as soon as possible.

Luckily for you, teleporting to Hell took almost no time at all. The only reason it took you so long to get back to the mines was that it was nearly impossible for both Lilith and Caliban to slip away from the Courts unnoticed. If getting them in a room together was nearly impossible, then getting them not to tear one another’s throats out required a miracle.

It seemed the only thing the two of them could agree on was that it was too dangerous for you to go into the darkness alone.

“I won’t be alone,” you said for the umpteenth time. Careful not to mention the other Sabrina, you explained, “I’ll have all the Spellmans with me. All I’m asking from you is …” What exactly were you asking from them? Help? Forgiveness?

Lilith rolled her eyes. “While the Spellmans may have an uncanny ability to vanquish their foes, I severely doubt their ability to ward off one of the eldritch terrors. Especially without their resident Morningstar.”

“And what exactly are you suggesting we do, Lilith?” Caliban asked. He said her name as if it were a poison. He used the same steely voice to talk to her that he used when he challenged her claim to the throne, even if he paired it with a smile in your presence.

Lilith simmered, pulling her lips into a tight smile. Some part of her, you thought, enjoyed the fact that Caliban was defiant, but you knew that an even larger part of her disliked others doubting her. Turning to you, she said, “No one other than the three of us can know about your claim to Hell. I cannot help you face the darkness, but if we bind our powers together, you may have a chance of surviving it on your own.”

“Even with your power, how would I even go about fighting something like this?” you asked. “I can’t make light.”

“You don’t need to,” Lilith said. “You can feed on the dark, acknowledge it as yours, and draw power from it.”

Caliban doused the fire building in your veins with water as he stepped forward. “The effects of absorbing that much darkness could be deadly.”

“So is doing nothing,” Lilith said. She tilted her head up to him and narrowed her eyes. “So, Prince of Clay, unless you have any better ideas, I suggest we get a move on before the eldritch dark ends us all.”

---

You weren’t sure what to expect from the other Sabrina. You’d supposed they would be the same as Wardwell and Lilith: they’d share a face and be impossibly different from one another, but that wasn’t the case. Sabrina Morningstar was an exact double of Sabrina Spellman; if anything, she seemed to be a more hopeful version of your best friend, despite her extended stay in Hell.

“I see what you mean about the energy down here,” she mused, looking ahead to where the Darkness lay. “It’s … evil. And old. I feel terrible.”

The Darkness didn’t feel evil to you. It felt sad, bottomless, and empty, but not evil.

“And that will only get worse once you’re inside,” Ambrose said. He tore his eyes away from the Darkness. “Prolonged and acute exposure to the Darkness is lethal. Death by despair.” He sighed. “So who’s first?”

Sabrina Morningstar shifted next to you. “Me.”

She squeezed your hand before letting go to pick up the giant lightbulb at her feet. She threw you a trademarked Sabrina smile before disappearing into the Darkness. Even in the pit of despair, there was a light in her that seemed utterly unable to be snuffed out.

You took a deep breath, shook every other thought out of your head, and focused on the dark. The Dark wasn’t evil, it wasn’t cold. It was pulling faces over a flashlight under the covers with Roz, Theo, and Sabrina. It was Tommy teaching you and Harvey about astronomy through a cracked telescope. It was warm, and sweet, and deeply, intrinsically sad.

The Darkness filled every cell of your being, replaying every birthday you spent wishing that your mother had loved you enough to stay, echoing every degrading word school bullies had said to you. It was smothering.

Sabrina stood right next to you, but her voice was barely audible. “Something’s wrong, Ambrose. The- the light’s fading.”

“I’m afraid so, cos,” Ambrose said.

You fought to pull yourself out of the Darkness, but it was like shedding a second skin. The Darkness felt like a part of you, more you than yourself.

The instruments of darkness tell us truths.

Breathing in, you opened your eyes and steadied yourself. The Darkness was a part of you, maybe the truest piece of you, but that’s all it was: one part of you, one version of the truth. You reached for Sabrina’s hand and forced a smile.

“Let’s go help her.”

Sabrina stepped into the Darkness first, but then she froze. She couldn’t feel the energy in the dark like you. Carefully, you led her through the Dark until you found Sabrina Morningstar, Darkness seeping out her nose and eyes. She was crying, hope snuffed out.

Hope, it turned out, took the form of Sabrina Spellman. She picked the pieces of Sabrina Morningstar off the floor and told her that they could face the Darkness, and anything else that came their way, together. And maybe with a little help, you added, as you knelt with them.

Taking their hands in yours, you drew the Darkness out of their hearts. While Sabrina Spellman hadn’t let very much in, Sabrina Morningstar had worn her heart on her sleeve. She felt every emotion the Darkness threw at her with full force and let her shattered past cut her open. Taking her Darkness was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, but it was worth it to see the two of them smile over a lightbulb filled with Absolute Darkness.

Ambrose was a wreck when you found him again. He looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “Congratulations! Unbelievably, the three of you have managed to do what is nearly impossible: you trapped an eldritch terror.”

“We did it,” the Sabrina’s said, each squeezing one of your hands.

“We should get that lightbulb somewhere safe,” Ambrose said. He took another shaky breath and shook his head as Sabrina Morningstar scooped the Darkness up and started wading through the mines. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, watching them disappear down the tunnel. Lifting a hand to wipe your nose, you saw the familiar sticky Darkness painting your fingertips. “Neither can I.”

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#caos #caos rewrite #Caliban #Infernal #chilling adventures of sabrina #caliban x reader #caliban imagine

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