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triplesilverstar · 3 months

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A return to Halloween

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Demon Wolfwood X F!Reader

CW: Oral, face riding, Penis in vagina sex, horns, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Possessive, Dirty talk, rough sex

Word count: 2800

A/N: The demon, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, you accidentally summoned is still a large part of your life. One day after work when you left him half asleep in your bed you come home to find him wearing something that has your full attention. Well, it also draws your attention to one of your favorite parts of him.

A follow-up to my demon Wolfwood from my 31 days of Monsters fic. Because a certain someone, cough @glowry000 cough, drew Wolfwood in that Lingerie in the banner, and then drew him again with demon horns and well... What can I say. I'm easily sent down a rabbit hole for smut.

You can find part one here, Two, Three

“Fuck” A hiss from Nicholas with his ears twitching before flopping down with his full body weight bearing down on your smaller form while his balls pump his searing load into you. You’re starting to get used to having the demon you accidentally summoned not just being in your bed, but a regular part of your life.

“So romantic.” You snort with what air you have left in your lungs, patting his back to signal for him to roll off your body. ��Now get off, I need to get to sleep. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow remember.”

“Right.” Huffing as he rolled over onto his side, with his chest heaving and you feel his still hard cock slide from your pussy with a flood of fluid. Tossing an arm over his eyes and blindly reaching for you, once his hand found yours he tugged you closer. “Alarm set?”

“Yes. Early enough to get in a round or two before I have to head to the office too.” A low hum from his chest and you think you hear his ears twitching again.

“Good.” You grin, adjusting so you can hear his heartbeat against your ear as you start to drift off.

The sound of an alarm blaring has you blinking as you slowly wake up, glancing towards your night side clock. Only to pale as your foggy brain reads the numbers. “Shit!” A mad scramble as you smack the demon holding you tight to his chest. “The first alarm didn’t go off! Nicholas wake the fuck up!”

“Wh-” As soon as his grip loosened you bolted for the bathroom. “Darlin, what are you doin?” His voice is laced with the rasp of sleep and you don’t have time for it.

“I’m gonna be late.” A quick shower to get his dried cum off your body and your out getting dried as you dart frantically into the bedroom to pull on your work clothes.

“Darlin, why you gettin dressed? I thought you wanted a load before work?” You pause for a moment seeing his dark hair in a mess and rubbing his face still trying to wake up. It’d be adorable if you weren’t almost two hours behind where you had planned to be.

“I’m late Nicholas.” Back to getting dressed, you take a few quick steps to grab his face between your hands and kiss him. “I’ll see you after work.” The look of confusion on his face is almost enough to make you want to stay home. However, you’ve been a key part of this meeting happening and you can’t afford to miss it.

“Darlin?”

“Later!” Almost out your bedroom door you stop to turn and blow him a kiss. “You still complete me, my handsome demon that gives me the D when I need it.”

A few hours later you get home and you feel your jaw drop at the image in front of you just after you close the door and turn at the sound of a cough.

“Um” Your higher brain functions have clearly shut down. Your mouth moving but there aren’t any words coming out. It’s your best fish impression.

“Like what you see Darlin?” Trailing one of his hands along the side of his neck and you feel the arousal pooling in your gut. Nicholas is wearing what you can only describe as lingerie. A lacy collar around his neck with a small cross hanging from it that matches the ones in his ears. That isn’t the best part though. Not by a long shot.

Another round of lace around his shoulders with straps framing his pecs before more lace trails down from his sides. In the center, just under a cross section of the ribbons that serve to frame his chest, is a larger cross. Hanging just above his cock jutting up in the air with two more black straps to keep all that lace from riding up his sides.

“I-” You squeak instead of being able to answer him. Your eyes landing on his weeping dick as one of his hands wraps around his base and makes a slow show of sliding upwards. A reminder of just how thick he is with his own fingers strained to meet around his flesh.

“Get on your knees for me Darlin, and come pray.” His voice has dropped to that husk that makes your knees shake and your pussy gush, his eyes flashing red as he licks his lips. “Pray for my mercy and I’ll fuck you till you can’t walk. My pretty little witch.”

You’ve never stripped so fast in your life and dropped to your knees before crawling to him. Making a show of squeezing your tits together between your arms, as you get closer with a front row view of his cock twitching. His eyes narrowing when you sit back and place your palms together as if you’re going to in fact prey. “I’m only gonna prey if your mercy comes from that big old dick of yours.” Sending him a wink. “After all didn’t you once tell me that was what the D. In your name stood for?”

“Fuck, you’re a dirty little thing Darlin.” This close he bends his knees just enough and the tip of his cock is a few inches from your face. Parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as an invitation for him to fuck your mouth to start off the festivtives for the night. Only for him to stop and jerk upwards.

“Nicholas?”

“I’ve got a better idea than just you sucking me off before I fuck that pretty cunt of yours.” Placing his hands on your shoulders and pulling you from the ground, at least before throwing you over his shoulders and heading for the bedroom.

“Nicholas!” Squealing at the sudden change and the cool air brushing along your sex at the speed he moves, laughing when he drops you on the bed with his hands on your hips after he flops down beside you. “What are you doing?”

“Gettin myself a drink.” Moving you like a ragdoll you get the idea when he plants your dripping folds over his mouth with your knees pressed to his shoulders. A quick swipe of his tongue and you feel like the wind has been knocked from your lungs as you fold across his chest and feel a line of fire race up your spine to your brain. “I’ll try not to distract ya from sucking on me while I do.”

You blink several times as you process his words, forcing your body to move and wrapping your fingers along his cock. That burning inferno you always feel from his skin sinks into your palm and chases the haze from your mind. Pumping him while you shimmy forward, enjoying the feel of his tongue as he traces patterns along the outside of your pussy. “Keep that up and I will be too distracted.” Moaning softly, your fingers maneuver his length so you can slurp at his tip.

A groan from the demon under you, your hopes to distract him dashed as he redoubles his efforts. Switching between the flat of his tongue covering your opening with hard licks to curling it and plunging into your core. Breaking the pattern to use the tip of the wet muscle to toy with your clit.

You aren’t going to give up so easily. Breathing through your nose as you wrap your lips around him and suck hard enough to hollow your cheeks. Flicking your tongue along the underside of his shaft and the onslaught of him shoving his tongue inside your walls halts for a moment. A choked noise of pleasure.

It’s like he takes it as a personal insult, that you were able to break his concentration. His hands gripping your inner thighs to spread your skin more apart. Licking harder and faster at the seams of your skin. The fire in your core burns hotter and hotter. With the way Nicholas has you, you can’t get any more of his cock into your mouth. So you improvise, the drool pooling in your mouth seeps past the edges of your lips and you make use of that to slide your hands along his shaft. Adding in the occasional twist motion that previous experience has taught you makes him groan and his balls tighten deliciously. A sound that still makes your back tingle and your heart thunder in your chest, knowing you’re the one making this demon that’s engrained himself into your life.

A fact you wouldn’t change for a second.

“Darlin, if you make me blow my load you better drink it all down.” A growl against your cunt before he delves his tongue back inside your slick walls. A command he didn’t have to give, you’d swallow every drop without him having to ask, let alone order.

It doesn’t mean you aren’t going to try and tease him. “I thought I was the one in charge, since I summoned you.” Licking what you can reach with your tongue before sucking his off while the tip of your tongue flicks against the slit, tasting a splash of salt on his slick skin.

“You are.” The rumble from his lips vibrates along your taunt skin, and the coil in your stomach grows hotter and tighter. His voice held that tone of placating you but you can’t pay more attention to it, otherwise you might tip over that edge of pleasure. Right now you want him to break before you do.

Humming around him and sliding your hands faster along his shaft with a short squeeze near his base, the dark hairs sticking to his skin from the amount of spit you’ve produced while sucking him off. A twitch under your palm and you cup his balls in one hand, massaging them with the heel. Your sense of taste is flooded by salt and something you’ve never been able to place as Nicholas cums, working your throat to swallow his load as your cheeks fill from the amount of it. A long low groan from the man, his onslaught stops. Short puffs of hot air has your cunt fluttering as Nicholas enjoys his orgasm, one you swallow to the last drop like it’s a fine wine.

“Fuck, Darlin.” His breathing is labored, a wet slurp and pop when you part your lips to release his hard length from your mouth. “Give me a second and I’m gonna drink you down.” Patting one of your ass cheeks in praise before rubbing the skin, a kiss placed where your inner thigh connects to your sex.

“Take your time, after all I’m full.” Snorting at your own joke as you let more of your weight settle against his body, the hard metal of the cross attached to his outfit firm against the plush mass of your belly. You’ll probably have an indent from the shape in your skin later.

“I” Panting with his voice hoarse Nicholas gives your butt a slap that echos around the room. “Say when you’re full.” Rubbing the hot flesh with his hand. “You’re far from it.” Shifting his grip to lap at your core like it’s the single thing driving him forward, the stubble on his cheeks brushing against your tender skin. Curling his tongue as he plunges into your pussy like he’s fucking it, dragging one of his hands between your bodies and pinching your clit. It’s like a flood now that you aren’t distracting yourself from trying to make him cum first, the muscles along your abdomen clenching painfully as your orgasm races through your veins. Your body going lax above his as you blink tears from your eyes with a cry of his name.

It’s not enough for the demon between your legs, his tongue still working you and the rough pad of his finger rubs at your clit to draw out your orgasm to the point where you aren’t sure if you’re hit with a second or your eyes are just rolling to the back of your skull because of how good he is.

You’re not so out of it that you miss Nicholas turning on his side, placing you on your back. Letting out a soft groan as the sides of his horns brush the inner part of your leg making him chuckle. “Let’s my good little witch.” The feeling of being enveloped by warmth creeps along you skin, pressure from his chest touching yours as his lips crush against your mouth. Tasting your release inside his mouth as he sweeps his tongue against yours, lifting your hands to grab his horns rubbing them like you had been rubbing his cock. The kiss like so many that Nicholas engages in with you, is dominating as if he can drink you down and make you cum from just a kiss alone. You feel the effects as your lungs start to burn and your heartbeat slows in your ears, moaning softly as your head feels hazy.

“I wanna fuck you stupid.” His strength is more than yours, easily pulling away from your face with the grip you have on his horns. “Until you’re a drooling mess, with my cum dripping from your pussy for hours after I finish.” Pushing himself up on his elbows and arching his back, those rough hot palms of his sliding down your sides and along the outside of your legs. “Then, when you start to come back around, I’m gonna pound you again, and again.”

Lifting your legs upwards he finally breaks from your hold with a soft toss of his head, his hands behind your knees as he keeps bending them up. Placing you in a fold that has your slick cunt on full display for him, his hands sliding away to plant just inside of your arms and using his chest to keep your legs from dropping back to the mattress. “Nicholas~” A soft moan of his name, glad for that overpowering orgasm otherwise you might be feeling the strain in your muscles at the angle. “I want it, so bad.” Licking your lips as his eyes flash crimson at your words.

“Good. Cus you’re mine Darlin.” A shift of his hips and the head of his cock slides along your spread pussy, your fluids smearing along his shaft when he gives a short jerk and hits your clit. Your eyes slam shut while you mewl in pleasure, just below the point of pain from being overstimulated. “All mine.” Another shift as he starts to rut against your body, trying to line his dick up without removing his hands from the mattress. “Till the day you die.” His eyes focused on your sex, the tip catching on your entrance at last. “And I’m yours.” Slamming forward in one hard snap of his hips, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he growls deep in his throat.

His possessiveness always makes your body burn, churning with desire for the demon deep in your cunt with his cock kissing your cervix. The air forced from your lungs as your hands claw at his forearms trying to ground yourself so you don’t tip over that edge right away again. With fluid coating your lashes you watch his face as he hammers his length into you at an inhuman pace. There’s nothing you can do to stop him, any move you try to make lost against his stronger larger form.

You let him do as he pleases, focusing on the sweat starting to bead along his hairline while you try to keep breathing. A burning across your face as you blush when he sends you a wink before somehow increasing the tempo of his cock pistoning along your body. It’s the first time the two of you have had sex in a position like this, every drag of his hot flesh inside your body and he feels so much larger, like the beating of his heart can be felt through the veins catching on your walls. All of your attempts to hold off your orgasm are for nothing as you cum again, squeezing around him with a cry.

Dropping his mouth to silence your scream as he stills, only his tongue moving as he lets your walls massage his cock. Breaking the kiss with several lines of spit connecting your lips he grins down at you. “Let’s see how many times I can make you cum before I shoot my first load in your womb.” Panting he starts to move again at that same blistering pace, sweat dripping from his face onto yours.

You’re in for a long night, with the demon Nicholas D. Wolfwood staying true to his word of fucking your stupid. A bulge in your belly from the amount of cum he pumps into you, too blissed out of your mind to take note of his fingers sweeping over the skin. Muttering under his breath as faint red lines appear along your stomach, pressing his palm to the center. “Not yet Darlin, not yet.” Licking his lips at his mark glowing in the dim light of the room, another sign that you belong to him and only him. As the lines fade he pulls out, watching the flood of his cum drip from your swollen pussy. “Rest love, we’re still far from done.”

Enjoy!

#nicholas d. wolfwood x reader smut #nicholas d. wolfwood smut #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #Trigun smut #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun smut #trigun stampede #twink writes #wolfwood x reader #tristamp #trigun maximum #trimax #Demon Wolfwood #wolfwood wednesday

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howlingday · 1 year

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Sworn Duty to Protect

It was cold that morning. The day they laid Nicholas Schnee to rest, her beloved and so adored grandfather, Weiss' heaving breaths came out in clouds of sorrow from her mouth. Her mother was so disraught by her father's death, she shut herself away into her room. Weiss didn't know it, but that would be the last she saw her mother sober for the next twelve years.

Klein held her hand, rubbing a thumb as he stoicly watched the casket lower. He also held Winter's hand as she failed to match his stone face. Whitley fussed in her arms, unaware of the tragedy in their family. Weiss wouldn't forgive him for... so long.

A supposed "close friend" of Nicholas spoke at the eulogy, giving empty words of death and dust and neither truly ending. Even at her young age, Weiss knew a corporate shill when she saw one. Her father arranged the ceremony, and it only made sense for a rat to come to assist a leech.

"Remember, Weiss," her father whispered, his voice a relief from the mockery, "that this death is faulted on one man. Do you understand?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. It was the man who abandoned her grandfather. The serpent in hiding amongst the permafrost of her home, trickering her grandfather, her family, into believing his lies of honor, respect, and duty. Her father was many things, a liar sitting high among the list, but he was no murderer.

Nothing like an Arc.

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"You know what else is great? Me." Jaune jumped in. "Jaune Arc, nice to meet you."

"Hello, Jaune," the red-haired girl waved, "it's nice to meet you!"

"Thanks." Jaune waved quickly before getting closer to Weiss. "So, I couldn't help but overhear you say-"

"Did you say your name was Arc?" The white-haired woman interrupted, staring at the ground.

"Uh, y-yeah," Jaune answered, suddenly feeling a cold chill, "I didn't think it would be famous."

"Arc." She breathed out slowly, like the word held a deeper meaning beyond a name. She looked up from the floor, and Jaune nearly froze on the spot in terror. Never before had he felt such hatred, such boundless rage and disgust in anyone's eyes before. After drawing a long breath, she spoke once more. "From now on, your life will be a living hell."

"What?" With a flick of her wrist, Jaune was frozen up to his neck in a block of ice. Weiss then twirled in a sort of ballerina form and kicked Jaune to the opposite end of the locker.

"Come along, Pyrrha." Weiss walked away.

"Uh, it was nice to meet you!" Pyrrha shouted and waved before cautiously following Weiss.

"Was it something I said?"

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

"It wasn't just your words, but your actions." Weiss huffed.

The older man bellowed. "You sound just like your mother!" He touseled her hair again, which she spent all morning making look perfect. "But there are worse people you could be like."

"Oh, hush." Her mother said, holding her baby brother in her arms. "Weiss doesn't have to be anything like me."

"Nah." A voice came from behind before lifting Weiss high into the air. With a toss, Weiss was spun round and caught in the same hands, finding her grandfather's old and grizzled face smiling at her. "She just has to be the best Weiss she can be."

"Hallo, Opa!" Weiss greeted with a giggle.

"Hallo, liebchen!" After rubbing his nose against hers, he set her on his massive shoulder. "Where's Winter? It isn't like her to miss on a family gathering."

All eyes fell to the hallway, where a pair of blue eyes and a crown of black hair peeked around a corridor. When her grandfather followed their gaze, there was a squeak and she fell away. He belted a laugh.

"Scaring children again, Arc?"

"It's not my fault." The other man argued. "I've always been bad with girls." He looked to her mother for support. "Right, Willy?"

"Considering I had to throw you off a cliff for you to notice your wife, I would say yes."

"Come on, Willy..." the man groaned, earning another laugh from her grandfather.

"Mr. Arc?" Klein called from the hallway.

"Klein, come on!" The man opened his arms. "We've known each other for years! Call me Big Nicholas!"

"Hey!" Her grandfather barked teasingly. "You're already stealing my look, so don't go stealing my name, too!" The two continued to share their laugh. It was a running joke between the two named Nicholas.

"You never know, Schnee." He gave a cheeky smile. "Maybe my son will woo one of your girls?"

"If he has your charm or half your density, then I shouldn't have to worry." Her grandfather replied with a smile.

"Er, Mr. Ar- Nicholas Arc, sir," Klein called again, "Master Jacques will see you now."

The man shook his head. "And we were having such a great time, too."

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"I don't think that was a great time at all."

"Sure it was, Ren!" The bubbly girl replied to the lean gentleman. "I got to ride a Grimm, then got a cute, little castle, and then got to kill a giant scorpion thing!"

"A Deathstalker." Ren corrected.

"Get goose height."

"Gesundheit." Weiss said.

"Huh?"

"Gesundheit," she repeated, turning to the pair, "it's Atlesian for health."

"Oh, like-"

"From this day forward, you will work together as Team CRDL, led by... Cardin Winchester!"

Weiss clapped from her place beside the two. As the names were called for the next team, she glared hard at the blond fool. Her gaze only burned hotter as it was announced the son of a snake was deemed in any way capable of leading a team. Her hated enemy was either more clever than he initially appeared or was charismatic enough to be believed. She couldn't believe either option, which angered her ever more.

As the months at Beacon rolled by, it had become clear that the fool grew affections for her. This would not stand, so she pushed her disgust and hatred for him as far as she could. Unfortunately, it only seemed to interest him more.

It seemed she would have to get physical.

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"Are you sure you can't stay another week?"

"I'd love to, Willie, but if I don't get home soon, Jaune might start crying again." The man chuckled. "It's still surprising that my only son is the most emotional of the five."

"Well, he is your son." Grandfather chuckled.

"Ha ha ha." He dryly replied. "Good luck on your mission. Hope the bullhead doesn't crash from your fat head."

"My wife says it's quite distinguished." Grandfather replied with a smile. "But I should be fine, and I appreciate the concern."

The man approached her grandfather and grabbed his arm. In return, her grandfather grabbed his. Blue eyes met blue eyes and the two silently nodded.

"If there's any trouble, you'll give me a call, right?" The man asked.

"Of course." Her mother said. "But only if you promise to come as soon as we do."

"Of course!" He smiled. "You have my word!"

"And we all know how an Arc never goes back on his word." Grandfather finished. "Take care, Nick."

"You, too, Big Nick."

With that, the man left, leaving the Weiss to watch the door a little longer from her perch atop the stairs. How could she have known then that would be the last she saw of both the man and her grandfather? She couldn't.

Not even as she drifted to sleep watching from above.

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"Agh!" Jaune tripped as he stepped back, falling backwards. As he stood, Weiss pressed the attack and struck again, knocking him down again. "Give me a break, Snow Ang- Agh!"

"Shut up!" Weiss spat. "If you have breath to speak, you have breath to fight!"

"It's supposed to be friendly sparring." Jaune groused as he stood, hefting his shield up.

"In case you haven't noticed..." Weiss thrust at him, but didn't connect. Instead, she feinted, tapped Myrtenaster, activated a dust round, and stepped away. Jaune approached with a wide swing, like a fool. Dust empowered, she thrusted a torrent of ice shards into him. "We! Are! Not! Friends!" Jaune fell onto his back, icicles cracking as they covered his chest. "I despise you. Loathe you. HATE you entirely."

"Why, though?" Jaune groaned as he tried to lift himself. "I haven't done anything- RGH!" Jaune's body was trapped in a black circle, his weight doubling, if not tripling within.

"That is exactly why." Weiss growled as she held her icy gaze on him. "All an Arc does is nothing."

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

"Dad?" Jaune crept into his father's den. It had been a while since he spoke to him, and even longer since he came back from his mission. "Dad, can I talk to you?"

"I'm busy, Jaune." His father weakly groaned from his chair. The room once full of light and life with open windows and music on the record was now dark and dim with shades shut and the only light from the hallway. "We'll play later."

"Dad, I..." Jaune gulped. "I was wondering if you could teach me how to use a sword."

The room was silent. Jaune gulped as he stood in the light, waiting for his father's reply. As the chair squeaked, he flinched. As his father approached, Jaune's little heart hammered in his chest.

A gentle hand rested on Jaune's shoulders, and turned him to the door. "Another time."

"Arc's word?" Jaune asked.

Nicholas flinched, though only he noticed it. Without answering, he shut the door. He walked back to his desk and sat in the darkness. He tapped his scroll and swiped through the old photos he took. It had been two months since his best friend's funeral, and even longer since he spoke to his family.

Nicholas Arc was a coward who couldn't keep his word.

#rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #klein sieben #whitley schnee #jacques schnee #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren

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judelijah · 2 years

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Happy Holidays!!!

So I tried to draw the #riseoftheguardians characters on how I remembered them. Yep there are totally details that I've missed, added, and changed entirely. 😝

Now let's see how did I do with my memory art game with the comparisons below:

Starting off with the prime JACK of the whole FROST in countries experiencing winter today:

Ran out of white pen so I got to have to think on how to execute the snowy effects on his hoodie though. Dunno why I gave him some sort of like colds with his ruddy cheeks and red nose when he basically is responsible for the chill! 😅

Now up to the NORTH Pole

I say, almost though. Could've made his beard more grey than white though. Was originally gonna include the elves but they would definitely be an additional time to render so...

Next holiday stop, Easter and boy, lezze the atrocity I did with BUNNYMUND

I've always remembered that he has some lines like some sort of tattoo running around his arms and legs. I had also put in my memo that he kinda resemble Nicholas ( ̶S̶t̶.̶ ̶N̶O̶R̶T̶H̶) Cage but never achieved it. Didn't know how I remembered him with a bangs though

Now onto something much sweeter that will definitely lose some tooth (or teeth?) :

TOOTHIANA!

I was actually most definitely proud of her among the others on how I imagined her in spite of her having the most changes to her design so... 😊

Now, let's journey to the SANDY realm of dreams and meet another fellow I didn't get quite right

Didn't know how I remembered the idea that his sleeves look like sands trailing around him though. All I know is he's in his pajamas which also kinda explains the frizzy hair like he just woke up but I definitely had given him a strange-looking bathrobe 😝 Sorry SANDY, I hope this doesn't summon the nightmares in your own dreams if you also do dream

And speaking of Nightmares... Hope we don't meet the Boogeyman when the room's all PITCH BLACK!

Wanna take pride that I got him accurately if only I didn't actually given him a high collar. Well thanks for the shading that it kind amade that collar vanished into the soupy black shadows I surrounded him. I've always imagined him as some kind of a Dracula or a vampiric figure (it didn't help that I remembered him on how basically most people saying that he looks kind of like Edward Cullen.)

Overall, I kinda had given some human figures pointy ears since they seem elf-like to me since they are similarly fabled creatures in stories about fairies and dwarfs and all sort of enchantment.

Hope you enjoyed them as well as I've enjoyed painting them. Might try this kind of challenge to other animated characters because it will definitely test your memory skill and how you pay attention watching, and simply, this is just so much fun!

Happy Holidays Again! And hoping for a blissful New Year of 2023 Ahead! May Father Time make way to a new-born year in a form of a bouncing healthy babe to all of us!

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thegladelf · 1 year

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An Open Heart is An Open Wound 13/?

Guess who's back! *nervous laugh emoji*

I know it's been a while. Life got busy and writing got hard, but uh, we've gone down another Captain Swan rabbit hole and that led to old fanfic and that led to me realizing that I still had at least a couple of chapters outlined. So I dunno if I have it in me to finish this fic, but I'm going to get y'all as far as I can. I've forgotten a lot of what I originally had planned, but luckily I have notes for some of it and the show for the rest. There's at least one more chapter coming after this and I know it's going to make a lot of people happy. (No beta to credit this time, we die like Liam Jones now)

Last Chapter | From Beginning | AO3

Summary: Killian was sent to our world to find a cursed town called Storybrooke, but his quest was derailed when he met Emma Swan. Drawn together by a past that is more similar than either of them realize. For a time, they were family. Then things changed and Killian left to complete his mission. Now, ten years later, Emma has come to Storybrooke and it’s Killian must decide whether he should pick up the pieces. (Alternate universe retelling of Season One.)

Word count: 10.8k

# # #

“Whatcha reading?”

“The Hulk versus Wolverine.”

Killian didn’t recognize the first voice at the end of the aisle, but the second was one he knew well. Not wanting to startle the lad, he ceased his perusal of the baking goods—he knows there are ready made breakfast foods, but he prefers making things from scratch and free of all those words he doesn’t know—peering over the shelf tops to find his son holding up a colorfully illustrated book for the inspection of a girl not too much older. She stood a bit taller than Henry, her hair cascading over her shoulders in golden waves. Her clothes echoed his school uniform, which made sense he supposed, as there was only one school that he knew of in this town and it got out a few minutes ago.

“I’m Ava,” the girl supplied.

As she spoke, someone brushed past Killian drawing his attention. Another child in a school uniform, this one a dark-haired boy with his arms full of toiletries. He strode casually past, seemingly unaware of Killian's presence. Killian noted the care in his step, his suspicion confirmed as the lad crouched down at the end of the aisle, quietly reaching for Henry’s backpack on the floor.

“I think I’ve seen you around school,” Ava continued as her accomplice slipped his items inside Henry’s backpack. “You’re in Miss Blanchard’s class, right?”

The second lad stood quickly, stepping forward. “Almost ready, Ava?”

A flicker of unease flashed across Ava’s face as she acknowledged the new boy. “This is my brother, Nicholas.”

Indecision stayed Killian’s hand for only a moment. He and Emma had used similar tactics on more than one occasion, and from the look of these children, they needed the items. But they were involving Henry in their actions and that he couldn’t let slide, no matter that he had been in their position on many occasions. Hadn’t he often nicked things while good, polished Liam distracted the cart owners?

“Hi,” Nicholas said, touching his sister’s arm. “Come on – let’s go.”

The girl smiled at Henry. “You want to come hang out?”

Henry’s bright reply stabbed at Killian’s emotions as he stepped forward, but the shop’s proprietor was eyeing the threesome with narrowed eyes—though that might just be the continual cold the balding man seemed to suffer from.

“Hold up just a minute there, mate,” Killian said, resting his hand on Henry’s shoulders. With his hook, he caught one of the many loops on Henry’s rucksack, sliding the zipper open to reveal the stolen goods. “I don’t think you want to be going anywhere with these two until they’ve returned these things.”

Ava stared up at Killian, like a rat caught in a trap, her fists balled at her sides. The boy — already halfway to the door — bolted the rest of the distance. His sneakers skidded against the tile floor as nasally challenged Clark slapped his hand over the door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded of Nicholas. He sneezed and dabbed at his nose with a crumpled handkerchief. “Don’t think I didn’t see you rob me.”

Henry’s lip trembled as he looked at the pair of siblings and despite Killian’s common experience with these waifs, he felt the flare of anger at how they had taken advantage of such a good heart as Henry’s.

“That’s why you were talking to me,” his son accused. “So your brother could put that stuff in there.”

Ava bowed her head, at least having the decency to be ashamed. Her brother glared at Clark, but remained silent.

Clark grabbed the boy by his arm, roughly pushing his toward the counter and his register. “I don’t know who you two think you are—don’t you go anywhere missy, you come right over here with your brother.”

He glared until she obeyed, though it wasn’t surprising, she didn’t seem keen to leave her brother. A trait she shared with Liam, he truly hadn’t known when to let Killian go either.

Clark grabbed a phone just to the side of the register. “I’m calling your parents—all of your parents,” he said, with a look at Henry. “And then I’m calling the sheriff.”

“Surely that’s not necessary,” Killian said. “It’s toilet paper and food stuffs. Certainly you can let it slide so long as the children put it back and promise not to engage in such activities again.”

“Certainly I will not,” Clark shot back. “I won’t stand for thieves in my store.” He schlumped around the counter, yanking the bag from Killian’s grasp. He threw it on the counter with a thunk. Carefully, he unpacked the bag, sneering at Henry’s school books as he called Emma and then attempted to call the children’s parents. From Killian’s side of the conversation, the former appeared more fruitful than the latter. The man tried to dismiss Killian, but as he showed no sign of releasing Henry as well Killian opted to stay.

Besides, he recognized the look in the children’s eyes. They might need a champion to plead their case.

Emma and Regina must have both been in their offices, for they arrived at nearly the same time. Regina’s black sedan whipping into a spot behind the curb, she was up and out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her, as Emma’s cruiser pulled into the space behind her. Killian bit back a smile at the sight of her rolling her eyes as Regina stormed through the door.

“What’s all this about?” the mayor demanded.

The clerk pulled himself up to his full height, which was still several inches shorter than the mayor. “Well, I’m sorry, Madam Mayor, but your son was shoplifting.”

“That’s a lie,” Killian said. “I saw the whole thing myself. Henry had no idea.”

“See?” Regina said. She grabbed the olive bag, zipping it closed with finality. “We’re going.”

Emma breezed through the door in time to halt Regina’s progress out of the shop. She paused, her eyes sliding over the scene, taking in each person. Her jacket rode up on her shoulders as she propped her hands on her hips, finally zeroing in on their son.

“Henry.” She sounded surprised. “What happened?”

Regina sighed. “Miss Swan, must I remind you that genetics mean nothing.” She spoke forcefully, her arm curling around Henry’s shoulders and drawing him closer. “You’re not his mother and it’s all taken care of.”

Her words made Killian’s blood boil, but Emma didn’t even flinch. Her calm demeanor reminded him of their bargain. Though he wanted to, giving Regina the dressing down she deserved would only strain things between the two and they had Henry to think of. For his sake, there needed to be peace between his mother’s.

“I’m here because I’m the Sheriff,” Emma said, with a sarcastic tilt of her head.

“Oh, that’s right.” Sounding disappointed rather than humbled, Regina stepped back, nodding at the boy and girl. “Go on, do your job. Take care of those miscreants.”

Emma sighed, but said nothing else to Regina as she and Henry left to the chiming of the bell. Ava and Nicholas eyed Emma’s badge warily. Killian found he wanted to comfort them, offer some assurances that Emma would set things right. He kept silent though, it was not his place to make promises for her.

“Did you call their parents?” she asked Clark, fiddling with her keys.

“Uh, the number they gave me was disconnected,” Clark said. With an exasperated huff, he circled back around the counter and started packing the items into a little, blue shopping basket. Though he kept his head down, the tilt of his head made it clear he followed every word of the interrogation.

“Did you guys give Mr. Clark a fake number?”

The children shook their heads.

“Then why’s it disconnected?”

The boy hung his head and tears sprung into the girl’s eyes.

“Cause our parents couldn’t pay the bill,” Ava said, soft and broken.

Emma picked up the nearest item, a tube of toothpaste. She gave the small box far more scrutiny than it deserved. Remembering her own childhood, no doubt.

Emma met his gaze when she looked up, but focused on the children once again. “And you guys are just trying to help out, huh?”

“Please,” Ava whispered. “Please don’t arrest us. It will just make things worse for our parents.”

Clark sighed, setting the basket down on the counter with a thud. He leveled a disapproving glare at Emma.

“The items never left the store, Mr. Clark,” Emma said. “I think you can let it go this once.”

“And what about the next time?” the man asked in his nasal whine.

Killian shook his head. Henry hadn’t found the time to acquaint him with every character in the book—though he suspected that the lad had at last figured out who Mr. Gold was—but they had found a few stolen moments here and there for Henry to acquaint Killian with the people most pivotal with his grandparents' story. He couldn’t imagine anyone putting up with Clark for very long, let alone as long as Snow White and the other dwarves had.

“There won’t be a next time,” Emma said, fixing a stern look on the cowed children.

“And you’ll be compensated for the items,” Killian put in. He fished his wallet out of his jacket pocket, laying out the money that would have paid for the few items he needed. He could manage one more morning of only citrus for breakfast and come back tomorrow. “Ring them up.”

“Hook…” Emma said.

“No, I insist.” He smiled at the children. “I’ve been there a time or two myself. Their intentions are good, even if their methods are suspect.”

Emma smiled at that. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Fine,” Clark said and then sneezed.

The children glanced at each other, their mouths hanging open.

“Thank you, Mister,” Ava finally said. “We promise it won’t happen again.”

With a smile, Killian wondered if she meant they wouldn’t steal again or simply that they wouldn’t get caught.

# # #

“I could’ve taken care of all that,” Emma said as she watched Ava and Nicholas trot merrily up to her squad car.

Killian shrugged, letting the door swing closed behind him and cut out the jingling bell above it.

“My brother and I were very much like them, once upon a time. Though we didn’t have parents to go home to.” He grimaced, closing his eyes like he wanted to shut out a particularly painful memory. It was one of the most concrete details he had ever shared with her about his past. With a scratch behind his ear, he continued, “The kindness of a stranger could have changed both of our lives.”

Emma pressed her lips together. “Yeah, too bad there aren’t more strangers like you out there.”

He snorted. “That’s probably a good thing, Swan.” He threw a flourishing gesture toward the kids leaning against the car. “Would you like some help transporting them back home?”

“I’ll add that one to the list,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“What list?” Killian asked, brow furrowing.

“The list of people you think I can’t handle,” she replied, sticking her hands in her back pockets. Her eyes strayed down the street, eyeing the pawnbroker’s sign swaying in the wind. “Should I put preteens before or after middle-aged men who use a cane?”

Killian tensed. “That is hardly something to joke about.”

“Lighten up, Hook. I know you don’t like the guy, but I think I could take him in a fight.”

Killian grunted, staring so hard at the kids she thought he might burn a hole through Nicholas’ head.

“Hey,” she said. “I don’t like him either. And I don’t plan on looking for trouble. Though if he keeps showing up at work…”

“What?” Killian snapped, tearing his gaze from the children. “When?”

Emma held her hands up, more to tell him to chill out than to push him away. “Whoa. He was there the day after the election is all. Wanted to give me Graham’s jacket.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now?” he demanded. “What did he do? Did he threaten you?”

“Stop it,” she said, aware of the two kids watching not far away. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him a little further down the street, turning him so those flashing blue eyes wouldn’t get the kids all worried. She sighed. “He wanted to congratulate me or whatever. Apparently, my standing up to him was all part of some master plan to get me elected.”

She suppressed a shudder, remembering the silent way Gold appeared at her office door two weeks ago. She hadn’t even known he was there until he spoke and nearly scared her out of her skin.

“Emma,” Killian pleaded, “I need to know things like this.”

“No,” she snapped. “You don’t. Look, your problems with Gold are not my problems with Gold. I don’t know what happened between you two, but until you care to tell me what he did that was so awful, I’m going to handle him based on my own experience. Got it?”

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, pushing past him.

The kids slid inside the car as soon as she popped the locks, setting the white plastic bag with the groceries Killian had purchased between them. Ava rattled off an address with a speed that stoked the burning suspicion already coiling in her gut.

Emma expected yellowed, peeling paint and maybe a boarded up window, but the house she ended up at was a calming blue and looked well maintained. The yard neatly cut and the steps leading up to the door swept clean. It was in better shaped than Ava in her ratty sweater and Nicholas with his shaggy haircut.

“This it?” she asked, throwing the gear into park. At the kids nod, she unhooked her seatbelt.

“Please, no,” Ava said, sinking into the backseat. Her fingers tightened around the belt buckle. “If our parents see you, they’ll be so embarrassed.”

Emma twisted, her jacket squeaking against the leather seat as she faced the kids fully. “Did Henry tell you about my superpower?”

Ava shook her head. “We just met him.”

“I have the ability to tell when anyone is lying.” Emma softened her voice, trying not to sound too harsh as she met first Nicholas and then Eva’s eyes. “Tell me the truth, money problems aside, is everything okay at home?”

They both nodded too vigorously.

“Yeah, we’re great,” Ava answered, but her words sounded hollow. Rehearsed. “Can we go?”

Emma contemplated calling them out, but thought better of it. Something was off for sure, but she needed to know more before she could decide what to do. “Alright.” She inclined her head toward the door.

Both of them flashed her relieved smiles as they piled out of the car, the bags in their hands. The sun caught Ava’s messy waves as they bounced against her back. The girl turned and waved to Emma from the top step, her smile bright and very, very fake. With a nod, Emma shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. The kids watched her in the rearview mirror, so Emma kept going until she rounded the corner of the street and couldn’t see them anymore.

She parked against the curb and jumped out. Brittle, winter grass crunched under her boots as she crept through a yard, peeking around a bush just in time to see the kids disappear around the side of the house. Emma took off after them, careful to stay just far enough behind that they wouldn’t catch her lurking.

The pelted across a deserted street, leading her through an overgrown yard and past useless, rusting trucks. Finally, Nicholas tossed the bags to Ava and used a trash can to scramble over a fence. The girl did the same. Emma almost went after them, but decided against it, noting instead the dilapidated, white house that appeared to be their true home.

She circled around. The house was old and obviously abandoned. She wondered why it hadn’t been listed in the paper all those weeks back when she had been looking for a home. She probably could have afforded this one too, she thought and immediately scoffed at the idea. Emma Swan was not the type to own a house. Renting worked just fine for her, thank you very much.

Every window on this house was boarded up, but the front door had a simple lock. Biting back a smile, Emma knelt, making quick work of the lock. Dust littered the air when she entered and she suppressed a sneeze. Light filtered in through the old boards, landing on a trap door that led into the basement and the floor creaked loud enough to provide sound effects for the movie Twister. Emma paused, stepping down on the board that protested so loudly, making groan again.

That should do it, she thought.

Quickly, she ducked down a hallway and waited to see who would be the first up from the basement.

Before long, Ava and Nicholas came tiptoeing through the house, Nicholas holding on tightly to his sister’s hand. They missed Emma in her little corner, peering instead into the kitchen.

“Why’d you guys lie to me?” Emma asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Where are your parents?”

The kids spun toward her, eyes wide. Nicholas pressed his mouth shut tight, but Ava lifted her head, a hint of a challenge in her posture as she said, “We don’t have any.”

She knew she had recognized the look in their eyes. Now the questions was, what could she do about it?

# # #

After she escorted them down into the basement—which was in even worse shape than upstairs, despite the furniture crowded together in an attempt to create a home—Emma had the kids gather up all their things and marched them back down the road to her squad car. They went without complaint, both eyeing her warily, but seeming to accept the inevitable.

She knew what she should do. Cases like this were social services business not hers, but every time she looked in the rearview mirror and saw their dejected faces, it reminded her of what would happen to them if she made that call.

“What happened to your parents?” she asked.

“Our mom died a couple of years ago,” Ava, the appointed spokesperson for the pair, said. She fiddled with her hair, wrapping and unwrapping a strand around her finger with frenetic energy. Gone was the calm, cool exterior.

“And your dad?”

Ave just shrugged.

She knew what she should do, but that was exactly what had been done with her, wasn’t it? The people who had handed her from home to home were just doing their jobs. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, what was it Killian had said about the kindness of strangers? Her life could have been so different if even one person had truly cared about her.

So she decided she would care about these kids. She was going to do her best to make sure they didn't get separated. Maybe she lacked any real idea of what to do exactly, but there had to be something.

“Hey, I need to stop by the station real quick to pick up some stuff,” she said, glancing up at them through the mirror. “But you’re not in trouble, okay? I’m going to take you to my house and get you some real food and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

Ava sighed, groping for her brother’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They opted to wait in the squad car, so she left the keys in the ignition and hopped inside for a few minutes as she searched through the records for anything related to them or their mom. She found a file, an autopsy report, with the name Ava had given her for their mother, but not much else.

The car was still there when she came back out and only then did it occur to her that they could have stolen it. Emma shook her head. Intentions aside, she needed to be a little more careful with these two.

Twenty minutes later found them back at the loft, a pot full of mac and cheese on the stove as Emma and the kids ate. Both children had tucked into their food with relish, shoveling it into their mouths like it might disappear.

“Hey,” she said, waiting for them both to pause and look up at her. “There’s as much of that as you want. I’ll even make another box if you’re still hungry, just don’t make yourselves sick.”

Nicholas swallowed, nodding. They both continued with a little more patience this time. Ava’s fork scraped the bottom of her bowl just as the apartment door opened and Mary Margaret walked in.

“So I hear that—” Mary Margaret froze, gaping at the two kids now sitting at her kitchen table.

Emma’s chair squealed against the floor as she pushed it back. “Guys, this is my roommate Mary Margaret. I need to talk with her for a minute.” She jerked a thumb back at the kitchen. “I won’t eat more than this, so you can have the rest if you want.”

Both kids jumped to their feet, bowls clutched in their hands.

Mary Margaret couldn’t seem to decide where to look. Finally, she said, “Uh, what did you need to talk about?”

Emma pulled her back into the bedroom, the file weighing heavily against her conscience. She knew how many rules she was breaking.

“They need a place to stay for a couple of nights,” Emma said.

“What? Why?” Mary Margaret hissed. “What happened to their parents?”

Quickly, Emma spilled the details of their little adventure at Clark’s store. Her roommate pressed a hand to her mouth as she listened to Emma’s description of the house they had been living in.

“They’re wearing the uniforms from your school,” Emma finished. “Do you know them?”

“I’ve seen them, but…: She shook her head. “I had no idea. None of us did.”

Emma sighed, a small part of her relieved that Mary Margaret hadn’t been close to these two. She didn’t know what she would have done if her roommate had had suspicions about the kids’ home life and said nothing.

“Ava and Nicholas Zimmer.” Emma opened the autopsy file again, her eyes scanning the documents. She saw no mention of the kids, just like she hadn’t found anything about them the first time she read through it. Mom had apparently passed from some form of cancer. “They said their mother was a woman named Dorrie Zimmer. She died a few years ago.”

Mary Margaret fiddled with one of the buttons on her blouse. “And the father?”

“There isn’t one. At least not one that they know.”

“What does, uh… What does social services say?” Mary Margaret asked. She took a step forward when Emma stayed silent. “You didn’t report them.”

Emma leaned in, lowering her voice even more. “I report them, I can’t help them. They go into the system.”

“The system that’s supposed to help,” her roommate countered.

“Yeah, says the woman who wasn’t in it for sixteen years,” Emma snapped in a hushed voice.

Mary Margaret stepped back, swallowing nervously.

Emma pushed on. “Do you know what happens? They get thrown into homes where they are a meal ticket, nothing more.” She peeked behind her again, glad to see the kids settled with their second bowls of cheesy goodness. She caught Mary Margaret watching too. “These families get paid for these kids and as soon as they’re too much work, they get tossed out and it all starts over again.”

“But they’re not all like that.” Mary Margaret shook her head.

“All the ones I was in.”

Pity filled Mary Margaret’s eyes, but not for the kids, this time she directed it at Emma. “What? We’re just going to adopt them?”

And there was the crux of the matter. There wasn’t room here, neither of them were exactly in the position to take on two kids. Emma had no delusions on that hand, she wasn’t even equipped to handle Henry. And Mary Margaret…well, she’d want kids of her own someday, there was no home for them with her. Maybe a few weeks ago she would have given up and consigned them to the system with a heavy heart, but standing in the kitchen she had remembered her argument with Killian. It took him only a few minutes to accept Henry as his son, only a few minutes to demonstrate just how wrong keeping it from him had been. What if Dorrie Zimmer had made the same mistake all those years ago?

“I want to look for their father,” she said. “They don’t know him. He may not know they exist.”

Mary Margaret’s eyebrows shot up. “And you think if he knows, he’ll want them?”

Emma wanted the answer to be yes. But she wasn’t, she couldn’t. Maybe Killian had proved her wrong—and the jury was still out on that one, because he could up and leave at any time—but she didn’t even know if she had ever met this other guy.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Emma wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to think of cold hands and clothes that smelled like trash bag. “But what I do know is it’s hard enough finding foster families to take one kid that isn’t theirs, let alone two. It’s their best shot, or—”

A soft gasp burst out behind her. “We’re going to be separated?” Ava stared at them, her face red and tears in her eyes. Her exclamation had drawn her brother’s attention, he paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, eyes going wide.

“No,” Emma said, too quickly to think about what she was saying. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Please…” Ava’s lip trembled. “Please don’t let it.”

“Emma’s going to do her best, sweetie,” Mary Margaret said, with a hard look at Emma. “Now, as good as that dinner looks, I think it’s missing some dessert. Why don’t you help me bake some cookies while Emma tries to figure this out.”

Ava swallowed, but nodded despite tears still in her eyes.

The kids were reserved the rest of the night. Nodding and answering in monosyllables when they could. Despite all of Emma’s patience, they didn’t know any more about their dad than they told her in the squad car.

She let them take her bed, volunteering to sleep on the couch. Mary Margaret offered the other half of her bed, but that felt too…cozy for Emma. Too much like it meant something, like they were best friends who braided each other’s hair and swapped stories about boys. That made Emma feel guilty, because if it weren’t for Henry she would leave Storybrooke behind and never look back.

The kids didn’t have any real pajamas, they just apparently slept in their clothes and changed the next day, so Mary Margaret unearthed a couple of t-shirts and some sweatpants for them to sleep in. They disappeared upstairs with soft good nights after changing into the new clothes and handing over their old uniforms to be thrown in the washer with all their dirty clothes.

That would be a plus, at least, Emma thought as she tried for the third time to get comfortable on the couch. She remembered many, many days wishing she could do more than air her few outfits. Every now and then, she’d save up enough for a corner laundromat, but clean clothes were a luxury when you had to steal to eat.

Emma wanted to do better for them though. Better than a couple of meals and clean clothes and a night in a warm house. She pulled the blanket a little closer. She knew exactly what nights in that old house must have been like.

She would do better for them. They’re birth certificates had to be at city hall. She could start there. Maybe there would be something on their birth certificate or in the hospital records.

Yeah, there had to be something. She smiled. It sounded like something Henry would say.

She drifted off, thinking maybe, just maybe she could be the kind of stranger Killian mentioned earlier that day.

# # #

Ava nearly cried when Mary Margaret handed her a uniform smelling of Downy. Even Nicholas ducked away when he thought they weren’t looking and swiped at his eyes.

It was odd, having two near teenagers to get up and fed and ready for school all of a sudden and she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have Henry sitting around the table with them. To be handing him a clean sweater and telling him to hurry up in the bathroom. Both children tried to take their time in the shower, but Mary Margaret hurried them along with promises of letting them shower later that evening until the hot water ran out.

They went to school with her, while Emma headed over to City Hall, ready to brave the musty archives and hoping she might find something — anything — to give these kids a chance.

In a rather stereotypical fashion, the Office of Records was in the basement, tucked away down a practical labyrinth. Emma wandered into three other offices before she finally got directions to the right one.

A huge, oak counter stood between her and the rest of the room. Behind it was set after set of library style filing bins, all of them in the same matching wood. Every flat surface was covered in files and binders and odd papers. A man sat amidst the chaos, his attention on a computer that could probably give life advice to the ones at the sheriff’s station. Half bald, with a beer belly and a rumpled button-down shirt, he was oblivious to Emma’s arrival until she called out.

“Excuse me. Mr…” She examined the nameplate and made her best guess. “Krzyszkowski?”

The man let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, it’s Krzyszkowski.” Pronouncing it like there was a ‘v’ at the end, though, there wasn’t. Emma checked. He stood, weaving around a table to get to the counter. “Everyone calls me K.”

“Mr. K,” she repeated, relieved to have a name she would be less likely to embarrass herself saying. “I am Sheriff Swan. I’m hoping to look at the birth certificates of Ava and Nicholas Zimmer.”

He reminded her a bit of a rat, with his beady, dark eyes. If Emma expected some curiosity or blustering, she would have been disappointed. Krzyszkowski reached for one of the papers behind the counter immediately and pulled up a handful.

“Alright, just, uh, fill out this form.” He slapped the papers onto the wooden surface, killing the small, foolish part of Emma that had hoped for just a moment it would be that easy. He lifted an industrial stamper, big enough to be a serious contender in a game of Clue and stomped it down on all three pages. “In triplicate.”

Emma blinked, surprised that it was that easy, despite her crushed—but unrealistic—hopes. The form only wanted basic information, record keeping for who saw what records she assumed, no signing over your firstborn or requests for certification.

“Okay.” She plucked up the first form. The desk had one of those ball-and-chain pens, the swinging chain causing her handwriting to wobble slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” the man said from his spot halfway across the room. He stood at one of the filing cabinets, his fingers still shoved inside a file holder. “Those documents have been recently removed.”

“By who?” Emma asked.

Somehow she already knew the answer.

“By the mayor,” he replied. He examined the one piece of paper that was in that file. “Just this morning actually.”

Of course.

Of course, Regina dug her fingers into this already. It was so like her, to want to meddle in something that had nothing to do with her whatsoever and step in to do Emma’s job when she was already doing it. Sort of.

“Thanks,” Emma said. “I guess I’ll just go see her about those then.” She left the forms sitting on the counter, one of them only half completed.

How had Regina known who to look for? Had she gotten their names before she left Clark’s shop yesterday? Maybe she’d been so offended that the kids tried to involve Henry she meant to give the parents a piece of her mind, or whatever it was suburban soccer mom types gave when they felt miffed.

Maybe Regina had planned to show up on their doorstep with a basket of apples.

Emma snorted at that, but reeled herself in quickly. Laughing would not get her into Regina’s good graces, and she needed to do that if she planned to help these kids.

The receptionist stopped her as she entered. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Emma said, “but I need to talk with her about the Zimmer case. Tell her that.”

The receptionist stared for a moment, but when Emma didn’t budge, she got up and shuffled into Regina’s office, closing the door firmly behind her. Emma crossed her arms and resisted the urge to tap her foot. The woman returned shortly, the open door she left behind her the only sign that Emma had permission to enter. With a deep breath, she walked into the office, hands stuffed into her back pockets.

Regina shuffled papers on her desk, barely glancing at Emma as she entered. “Don’t worry, Miss Swan. You can relax,” she said, her hand resting on the file Emma needed. “I’ve contacted social services. Turns out these kids are on their own.” She grimaced, as though the thought pained her, though whether that was genuine or an act was hard to tell. “They need help.”

“Which is exactly what I’m trying to do,” Emma said. If they had an equal goal, maybe Regina could be reasoned with. After all, she had no connection to these kids other than their brief contact with Henry.

What did it matter to her what happened to them? “I’m trying to find their father.”

Regina sighed, handing over the file. “Well, he doesn’t exist.”

Emma took the file with a roll of her eyes. “He has to.”

“Well, of course, biologically he exists,” Regina said. “But there’s no record of him.”

Sure enough, where they would have put the father’s name, only the word “Unknown” was written. Disappointment hit Emma solid and low, but she tried not to react. Not in front of Regina.

The other woman fiddled with a pen. “Which means we have no choice.These children need a home, so they will be put into the foster system.”

Any part of Emma that thought Regina’s concern might be genuine vanished at the look of smug satisfaction on Regina’s face. Of course. If Emma was invested in this, Regina wanted to thwart it. And Regina had the law on her side too.

“Storybrooke has a foster system?” Emma waited, already knowing what Regina’s answer would be.

“No, but I’ve contacted the state.” Regina moved around the desk with more ease than anyone wearing a pencil skirt had a right to, speaking in flat, clinical tones. She lifted a pitcher of orange juice — probably hand-squeezed and organic if she was as strict with what she ate as she was with Henry — pouring herself a glass as she explained, “Maine’s group homes, unfortunately, are filled. But they put us in touch with two homes in Boston – a boy’s home and a girl’s.”

The steady thrum of unease that started with the mention of group homes exploded into full-blown dread.

“They’re separating them?” she gasped.

“I don’t like it, either,” Regina said, though her tone was hard to read. “But we’ve got no choice. You need to have them in Boston tonight.”

Emma’s stomach sank to her knees. “Me?”

Regina turned on her, sipping at her glass before speaking. “Well, you wanted to be Sheriff. This is what sheriffs do. Yes, you’re taking them.”

“No,” Emma said with full knowledge that she was being childish. Maybe she couldn’t stop them from being separated, but she would not be the one that delivered them to those homes. She never wanted to be within a mile of another group home for as long as she lived. “I promised them they wouldn’t be separated.”

“Well then, perhaps you should stop making promises you can’t keep.” Regina waited for a moment, her face softening as she approached Emma. “These children need a home. I’m just trying to find the best one.”

“So am I,” Emma retorted.

Regina shrugged. “He left them once. Even if you did find him, that’s not guarantee he’ll want them.” She set her glass down. “I see the appeal of the idea, Miss Swan, really I do. But better a sure home than letting them depend on a man we already know they can’t trust, don’t you think?”

Emma’s grip on the folder tightened. “Fine. I’ll do it. But they get to finish the school day first.”

“A wise decision,” Regina said, smiling coldly. “Best not to make a scene.”

“Madam Mayor.” Emma nodded and headed for the door, the file still clutched in her hand. Her spine crawled. Every step she was sure Regina would call for her to bring the file back, but no such call came. She got out the door and down the stairs and back to the station before she took a full breath, but no one stopped her. No one called her out for a liar.

Not that she had lied. School ran until two, so she had until then to figure something out.

# # #

“Any luck?” Henry walked into Emma’s office and her heart sank.

An odd feeling to associate with Henry. Until now, she hadn’t realized that seeing him usually made her day brighter. His arrival, however, signaled the end of the school day and — since Emma still had no plan — the end of her window to find Ava and Nicholas’ father.

“No,” she said, closing the file she was sifting through. She had all the records from the year Ava and Nicholas were born, searching through for any mention of Dorrie and her possible baby daddy.

Henry dumped his bag and set the storybook down with a thunk, heedless of the mess on Emma’s desk. “I know who they are. They’re brother and sister. Lost. No parents. Hansel and Gretel.”

For just a brief moment, her spirits lifted, until she realized just how ridiculous that was. Henry spoke of fairytale characters and they needed a real life, flesh and blood person. Still, he was trying to help.

“Anything in there about the dad?” she asked, more out of habit than hope.

Henry shook his head. “Just that he abandoned them.”

“Great.” Emma flipped his storybook closed, picking up her last file and heading to stash it back in the filing cabinet. A big bunch of dead ends. That’s all any of this was. “Sounds like a familiar story. Whoever this guy is, he could be in Laos by now.”

Henry followed her into the next room. “No, he’s here.”

Emma scoffed, her natural cynicism apparently untamable today. “Just how do you know that?”

“Cause no one leaves Storybrooke.” He leaned against a desk, tapping his fingers across the dark surface. “No one comes here, no one goes. It’s just the way it is.”

“I came here,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Your dad came here, she almost added, before she remembered she hadn’t told him about Killian yet. That idea made her insides twist. She was okay with Killian knowing about Henry and hanging out with Henry at this point, but every time he even hinted at spilling this secret, ice cold dread seeped into her bones. Sure, Killian was all fatherly and cool with it now, but what happened when he got bored and tired of having a kid hanging around him all the time? Right now, Henry would lose a friend and nothing more.

“Because you’re special,” Henry said. “You’re the first stranger here. Ever.”

“Right, I forgot.” Emma shrugged it off. He might not remember any strangers coming to Storybrooke, but clearly that wasn’t true. She ran her fingers over the files, wishing she knew them as well as Henry apparently knew his book. The cool metal felt brittle as she slid the drawer closed.

For a brief moment, she wondered if there had ever been someone who felt this way about her. One of her case workers, maybe? Someone determined to help, but with their hands tied by laws meant to “protect” her. She wanted to keep looking, but she was out of time and out of ideas.

Henry came around the desk, hopping up to sit on it like he owned it. “Can you tell me about him?”

“Uh.” Emma blinked. “I haven’t found anything about him.”

“Not their father. Mine.”

He stared up at her with wide-eyed innocence, feet banging against the desk as he waited, completely oblivious to the way Emma’s stomach lurched down to her toes. The silence stretched.

“I told you about your parents,” he added, sensing her hesitation. “And now you’re even living with your mom.”

“Mary Margaret isn’t… She’s… Never mind.” Emma sank into the nearest chair, gathering her thoughts. What did she tell him? How much did she tell him? How did she avoid this subject completely? Killian wouldn’t leave him, a small voice said. But she had been so sure about Killian all those years ago and he left her then. He’d promised never to leave her and then he did.

“Please?” Henry begged.

Emma couldn’t say no.

“I was pretty young.” She sat back, pushing her hair away from her face as she thought. “I’d been dodging social services for a year and…” Emma paused, unsure of how much was too much. Henry already knew about her past, did he really need to know about Killian’s? “To be honest, your dad and I weren’t always on the right side of the law. I met him stealing the beetle.”

Henry’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

Emma grimaced, maybe she shouldn’t have told him that. “Yeah.”

“Cool.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, well, don’t tell Regina you think that.”

Henry leaned forward. “What happened after that?”

“We were…family for a while after that,” Emma said with a shrug. It was true on her part at least. “And good for each other, I guess.” She watched the way Henry’s face lit up, the way his fingernails dug into the cuffs of his sweater, and she couldn’t tell him the truth. Even if she wanted to—she just couldn’t.

“We got real jobs, tried to put down roots. Mine was at this crappy twenty-four hour diner. And your dad, he got a job at the… docks. Long, hard days, but he’d always come in after work to sit with me until I got off.” She swallowed. That part, at least, was true. There had been a few odd jobs and Killian had hung around a couple of those places while waiting for her shift to end. “He’d order coffee and sit at the counter and complain about how we didn’t have pumpkin pie.”

“Did you get married?”

Emma tried not to blush. “No, we just…” Emma had no idea how much Henry knew about sex. He was nine. Was nine too young? Did it even need to be explained for this story anyways? “Uh, we watched each other’s backs for a while and…” She shrugged. “Eventually we grew apart. Life happened. His got better and mine got worse and…”

“And you met that other guy,” Henry said. “The one that got you sent to jail.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Emma said. She closed her eyes against that particular set of memories, breathing deep. More things he did not need to know. More things she did not need to think about. “Before I went, I… I found out I was pregnant with you. And I tried to contact him, and I found out that he’d joined the…army.” The idea of Killian in the military was laughable, but this was a way to kill two birds with one stone. She gave him a sad smile. “He died during the war, saving a wounded soldier. So, you think I’m a savior, Henry? He was.”

Emma leaned forward, taking his hand in hers. She was going to rot in hell for doing this, she knew. But she’d made her decision. This was safer for her son.

“Your father was a real hero.” She didn’t think she had ever told a more blatant lie.

Henry didn’t give her any time to worry about whether he had inherited her superpower. “Do you have anything of his? Something you can remember him by. Something I could see.”

Without thought, her hand went to her chest, habit taking over before she remembered Killian had the necklace now. Emma sighed, feeling a little less for its loss, even with the memories attached to it.

“I… I don’t…” She sat up, the chair creaking underneath her and startling her beautiful, brilliant, ingenious son. Emma smiled. “Henry, I’m sorry. I gotta go. I may know how to find this guy.”

The wheels of her chair scraped against the floor as Emma rolled away from her desk and headed for her office and her keys. It felt like electricity shot through her veins. This would work, she knew it. Her fingers itched to turn on the siren when she slid into the squad car, but that would draw attention and attention probably meant Regina. And Regina would cut this idea off before Emma could even say the word ‘plan’. Besides, it was only two blocks away.

Ava and Nicholas jumped as Emma burst into the apartment. Ava had one of last night’s cookies in her hand and a guilty look on her face as she whirled to face Emma. Both children wore regular clothes. Emma didn’t blame them for wanting out of those uniforms as soon as possible.

“Stay right there,” Emma said. “I have an idea.”

Nicholas blinked at her, then turned around, reaching for the cookies as Emma dashed upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. Two seconds later, she clattered back down the stairs, her old cardboard box in her arms.

Emma set the box on the counter, reaching inside without taking her eyes off the kids. “I want to show you guys something.”

Her fingers brushed soft wool like she knew they would. The blanket made a poor substitute for parents, but some part of her still relaxed a little.

Nicholas sat forward, his stool teetering on two legs. “What’s that?”

“It’s my baby blanket,” Emma answered, holding the small blanket to her chest. “It’s something I’ve held onto my whole life. That’s the only thing that I have from…” The words caught in her throat, for just a second. “From my parents. I’ve spent a lot of time with a lot of kids in your situation, and all of them…” Again, it was painful to admit. Even if they didn’t know her story, that she hadn’t been enough for her parents, she felt like they would see the truth written across her face, like countless children had done every day of her growing up. But she pushed on, because Ava and Nicholas weren’t in this situation because they were unwanted. They were here because their parents hadn’t had a choice. That was all she wanted, to give them a choice. “All of us. We held onto stuff.”

Ava’s eyes were glued on Emma, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted in a look of wary comprehension. She had them. If there was one thing Emma had noticed, it was that where Ava went, her brother was sure to follow.

“I want to find your father,” Emma said, setting the blanket down. She met first Nicholas and then Ava’s gaze. “But I need your help. Is there anything of his you’ve held onto?”

“I might have something.” Ava swallowed, her hand going to her pocket. She stared at Emma, clenched hand still hidden from view. “But if I give it to you, you’ll make sure we stay together, right?”

“Right,” Emma promised without thought. All she needed was a clue. If she had that, she could find their father. And if she found their father, she could keep them from growing up like she did. She could make sure their story was different from hers.

Metal clinked as Ava withdrew her hand. Shiny, dark metal peeked through her fingers, followed by a chain sliding from the pocket.

“A compass?” It didn’t look expensive, the metal a dull gold that barely reflected the light. It was heavier than it looked though. Emma examined it, noticing that the little needle was stuck.

“Our mom kept it,” Ava explained, her voice raspy. “She said it was our dad’s.”

“Thank you.”

She flipped the compass over, searching for some sign of the previous owner. No such luck. Biting her lip, she racked her brain for any other ideas. This was the key. This would lead her to their dad. She could feel it. She just…

Ava interrupted her thoughts. “Did you find them?”

Emma jerked her head up. “Who?”

“Your parents.”

“Not yet,” she said, because a flat out denial felt too harsh for this moment. “But I’m going to find yours.”

The kids watched silently as she examined the compass, trying to think if she knew anyone in town that might know about such things. She traced the outer edge with a finger, following the path of her thoughts.

Mary Margaret came out of her room, tucking the hem of her shirt into a pair of jeans. “Oh, Emma, I thought I heard you.” She smiled. “Are you done for the day or…”

“No,” Emma said, shoving the compass into her pocket. “I had a couple of questions for Ava and Nicholas.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret sighed. “Well, Henry will be disappointed, he was planning to come hang out while he waited for Regina to get off work.”

“He knows this is important,” Emma said, hand on the doorknob. “Tell him I’ll see him later.”

The door swung open with a slight creak and Emma could practically hear her roommate adding WD-40 to her mental shopping list, but she didn’t stop to think. She let it latch behind her, pounding down the stairs and onto the street. The squad car’s engine revved to life and she was halfway down the street before she realized where she had decided to find her answers.

If she had been less desperate she might have turned around and figured out another option, but she needed someone who knew this town better than she did and a nine-year-old with a storybook just wasn’t going to cut it.

Few people roamed the streets at this hour. A couple of kids walking home from school, a bike messenger, an elderly couple out for a walk. When she got to the docks, it grew a little more crowded. The harbormaster stood outside his shack, debating hotly with someone. Several bundled up fishermen unloaded crates from a trawler. She pulled up to the curb near where Killian had indicated his ship was...parked? Anchored? Moored? She wasn’t entirely sure what the word was. The fishers paused, glancing over as she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” one of them called.

Emma waved, feeling self-conscious and scanned the boats.

“You in the market for a boat?” he asked, grinning. “Looking to expand the sheriff’s department to the high seas now?”

“No,” she answered. “Just need to talk with a friend.”

“Odd place to look, considering none of those have been away from the docks in years. Nobody owns them far as I know.”

Emma turned to him, a cold fear coiling in her gut. “Really? My friend said he lived on one of these. The, uh, Miss Guided.”

She almost winced at the name. Almost. But she was too busy worrying over whether Killian had lied to her. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, despite the stiff breeze blowing in from the ocean. She never had accepted his offer to visit his boat, so she had no proof. He could have made the whole thing up and be living on the street for all she knew.

“The Miss Guided?” The fisher got a strange look in his eyes, like he was trying to read fine print, but his eyes refused to focus. He bowed his head. Then his gaze snapped back up to Emma’s, his pleasant smile returning. “Ah, yes, Hook’s little boat. I’d forgotten he moved her so he could keep up with these poor unfortunate souls.” He gestured to the many boats with sails furled and gear packed away, looking forlorn. “That’s her right there.”

For a minute, Emma expected to find Killian standing where the man pointed, but the deck of the ship he indicated stood empty. There on the side curled the words Miss Guided. Clearly, she and this fisher had different definitions of the word little, because Killian’s boat measured at least thirty or forty feet. Despite her complete lack of knowledge about most things seafaring (Killian had talked about a thing or two, once upon a time, but she remembered very little of that), she could see the difference between this boat and the others.

Killian’s boat gleamed, the railing reflecting the sun and the deck a pristine white. The sails weren’t edged in gray or yellowed by the sun. And while the deck was tidy, it was in a thoughtful, useful way that gave the boat character instead of an air of abandonment.

Knees shaking, she approached. She didn’t like this, going to him in his territory, no matter that she had a gun. Killian wasn’t a physical threat to her, she couldn’t ever see how he would be. But she still remembered the way her heart sped into overdrive when Henry asked about him and the way she chickened out instead of telling her son the truth. Killian’s hold on her emotions, even after all these years, scared her far more than any other threat he could ever present.

She could shoot him. She couldn’t shoot her feelings.

“Hello,” she called out. “Hook?” Her feet faltered. A little dock extended away from the main dock down the side of the boat, providing access to a set of somethings that couldn’t decide whether they were steps or a ladder. Emma eyed the boat. Could she board without permission? The expanse of water between that little dock and the side of the boat looked awfully wide. “Hook?”

“Swan?” came a muffled reply. A moment later, Killian’s head popped up from under the deck, startling Emma. He quickly scaled the rest of the way up to the deck, concern clouding his features. “Is everything alright? Is it Henry?”

“No,” Emma said quickly, pushing down the guilt that flared inside her. “I just needed your help with something.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Killian smirked, leaning up against the side.

“And what,” he asked, consonants snapping, “might the lady be needing help with?”

“Stop it.” She glared at him, though if she was mad at him for coming on to her, she couldn’t feel guilty so maybe she shouldn’t complain. “Look, I’d rather not shout it at you so either you come down here or…give me permission to come over or whatever you nautical types do.”

Killian chuckled. “Oh, things aren’t so formal on this little thing.” He gestured for Emma to make her way down the finger dock. “Though ‘permission to come aboard’ is the typical greeting. Keeps the jumpy ones from running you through with a sword. Here, grab this.” He leaned down, indicating a steel cable stretching taut above them. The metal bit coldly into Emma’s palm. “Yes. Now just step onto the gunwale. One foot and then the other right there.”

Emma did as he said, taking the hand he offered as she stepped off the dock. Killian smiled.

“Good then. Now you can step over,” he said, indicating the cord that ran the length of both sides. “We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.”

“Maybe some other time,” she said. “Look, you remember those kids from yesterday?”

Killian nodded, eyes dark. “Aye.”

“They’ve got no one.”

“I thought that might be the case,” he murmured. “You said you needed my help? How?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Emma expected Killian to lead her to a bench or something, but instead he led her to the back of the boat and down a cramped set of stairs. It opened up just a little once they were below deck. Enough that Killian could stand without hunching at least. The living quarters too were neat and tidy. No choice really, with the limited space beneath. There was a small kitchen along one wall and a set of cushioned seats along the other. All the way at the front was a triangular little bed, just big enough for one, maybe two people if neither of them were Vikings.

It was nice. Cozy.

Killian shifted nervously. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

Emma shrugged. “Coffee, I guess.”

She glanced around, absorbing the small details. He had been reading, if the book lying face down on the bed was any indication. Not much lay out and about, but neat as Killian was, some of his personality shone through. The tiny pictures on the wall above the couches. The dark, earthy color of his blankets. A towel hanging on the outside of a door near the stairs. The bathroom she supposed.

Killian puttered around, pulling out an old kettle and turning on the stove. The rotten egg scent of propane clouded the air.

“Afraid making coffee is a bit more complicated here than at Granny’s,” he said.

“Well, it’s a step up from the bug,” Emma replied. “At least this place has a stove.”

“Stinks to high heavens though,” he grumbled.

“But at least you’ll know if there’s a leak.”

Killian turned to the cabinet, pulling out two mugs, one at a time. “There is that.” He leaned against the small counter next to the sink, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Now, what’s this about Ava and Nicholas?”

Emma brought him up to speed, detailing everything that had happened since she drove off yesterday. Well, not everything. Clearly he wasn’t interested in the odd little details, like her sleeping on the couch or what she wore to bed. On second thought, he was probably interested in that last one. Killian listened thoughtfully, nodding every now and then without interrupting. By that time the coffee had finished brewing.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said when she finished. “I fail to see how I can help.” He handed her a mug. “Afraid I don’t have any cream.”

“Sugar?” she asked.

In answer, he flipped open another cabinet and handed her a little ceramic jug.

“Thanks,” she said, dumping a few spoonfuls into her coffee as Killian shook his head.

“It’s not meant to be drunk that way,” he grumbled.

“What are you? A Starbucks barista?” Emma retorted.

“A what?”

“You know, Starbucks. Coffee? I know we’ve been to a few…” She shrugged.

“Ah, yes.” He scratched behind his ear. “I suppose I’ve been here so long I’ve forgotten there are places other than Granny’s to get sustenance.”

Emma nodded. “She does make a mean grilled cheese.”

“Now, what assistance were you counting on, Swan.” He cast his eyes around the small hold. “I’m afraid I haven’t much room to harbor a couple of strays, but I suppose…”

“No, nothing like that.” Emma wrapped both hands around the mug, glad of the warmth. She had no idea how Killian stood sleeping in this place. Even with his mound of blankets. They were gloriously messy, as though he had been cocooned in them before she intruded on his afternoon. “I’m trying to find their dad. From what Ava’s told me, he probably doesn’t know they exist.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “And this…father...you think he might take them in?”

Emma shrugged. “I hope so.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone low. “For all you know, they were simply too young to remember him running out on them.”

“No,” she replied. “But it’s worth a shot. I mean, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to want to be involved either and you surprised me. I figured if you regretted running off…”

“Maybe he would too.” Killian swirled his drink, seemingly lost in the dark liquid. He took a sip, swallowing it with some difficulty. “How can I help?”

Emma pulled out the compass. “This is all they have of their father.”

With one reach Killian set his mug down on the little counter and took the compass in his hand. He turned it over, just as Emma had, caressing the smooth back with his thumb.

“A bit banged up,” he said. “But good workmanship.” He tapped a fingernail on the front. “Crystal. Jeweled setting. Quite the detail. Not your ordinary compass.”

Emma sat forward, hands clutching her coffee. “Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”

Killian shook his head. “I’m no expert. I simply know how to use the device…or I would were it working. Perhaps if you tracked the maker or the man who sold it they could tell you more.”

“Well, unless you see something I missed, I think finding whoever made this is a bust,” Emma said, taking the compass back from him. She pressed her lips together, noting how he fidgeted only slightly—his fingers tapping against his thumb while the rest of him stood stock still. She knew the answer to her next question before she even opened her mouth, but she asked it anyway. “Do you have any idea who might sell something like this?”

“You mean who might buy family heirlooms for pennies and then charge through the nose at resale?” he ground out. “Aye. Unless these children had a compass maker as an ancestor, this likely passed through Gold’s hands.”

Emma stood to leave, but found she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with her coffee. She wasn’t entirely sure she could just dump it down the drain in the sink. That felt a little rude anyways, considering she still had half a cup full.

Killian sighed, lifting the mug out of her hand. “I take it we’re paying a visit to the Crocodile.”

“The what?”

He snapped his mouth shut, eyes widening. “Nothing. Let me grab my jacket.”

“Oh no.” Emma held her hands up, the chain slapping dully against her wrist, halting him in his tracks. “I’m sheriff, this is my job.”

“And I’m a concerned citizen,” Killian shot back. “Mostly about you and the number of deals you’ve struck with Gold.”

“I can take care of myself, Killian,” she said. Tucking the compass into her pocket, she got her foot on the first step before Killian’s hand closed around her elbow. Gentle, but insistent.

“Please, Emma,” he said. “You don’t know him like I do. At least let me come for that, I might catch something you don’t.”

Emma sighed, but she couldn’t deny the very real fear in his eyes. There was a darkness to that fear, but it was true fear. Part of her should have been worried about what would happen if Killian and Gold ended up in the same room with only her to stop them, but she couldn’t dismiss the way anxiety coiled in her gut. Gold had been willing to risk injuring her and Regina to get what he wanted. Maybe Killian’s fear was justified.

“Fine,” she said. “But whatever issues you have with Gold, leave them at the door, okay? I won’t let you mess this up for these kids.”

He rocked back on his heels, his face thoughtful. Then he nodded and plucked his jacket up from among the blankets on the bed. Emma didn’t look behind her as she ascended, but she stopped short as she realized she wasn’t entirely sure how to get off the boat without ending up on her ass.

Killian chuckled as he passed her and it irked her how well he still read her. He winked. “Same as getting on, only in reverse.”

Easy as you please, he took hold of that same cable, quickly stepping over the line running down the side, and stepped down onto the little dock. He turned to her with twinkling eyes and held out his hand.

Emma gritted her teeth and followed him, doing exactly as he had done and stubbornly refusing to take the offered hand.

“See,” he said, apparently unflustered by her rebuff. “Nothing to it.”

“Come on,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “We’ve got work to do.”

#kau #captain swan #cs ff #cs au #cs fanfic #cs crew #henry's dad!au #i know it's been so so long #i'm a terrible person #this chapter has been sitting on my computer for six years #heh #my bad?#there's at least one more chapter coming tho #which has also been on my computer since 2017 #again a terrible person

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kingdom0fcards · 1 year

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(i meant act not add in the last ask oops)

i think when noah was younger he used to draw a lot just to impress nicholas and have something to talk about

imagine noah's just drawing nick and he asks what he's doing and noah just complains, then nick takes his sketchbook away from him and looks at it and his heart hurts bc of how adorable noah is like dude was literally drawing him

nicholas 100% has something noah drew tattooed on him like there's no doubt of that he adores noah's drawings

and on a more spicy note

noah literally has drawings of naked nicholas like imagine they just finished fucking or whatever he sees nicholas wrapped in a blanket hair messy and covered in bite marks and noah cant help but draw him bc he's literally so hot

something tells me he has definitely taken pictures of him as well

like he just has a polaroid of him and he's smiling eyes closed and just wasted from banging him and bro looks and says hm pretty lemme take a picture and jerk off to it every night

ik i send a lot of asks but ur literally one of the only blogs who depicts noah and nick like this and i love it -🍄

I have nothing to add on this is all perfect I love it

They're a bunch of fruit cakes that want to impress each other bc they love each other !!!

Ty mushie anon 🫡 I'm gay so I deliver gay shit it's a job and I never miss a day of work

#noah talks ig #bad omens fic #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo headcanons #noah sebastian headcanons

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bullet-prooflove · 2 days

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“I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin' out I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about”

W/Nicholas Baxter 👀👀😍😍

Much thanks! Hope you are having a fabulous day! 🩵🩵💞💞

Tagging: @kmc1989 @est1887 @wabi-sabi1090 @mini-bee-bee @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Romantic - Nick has always been a romantic when it comes to you.

Distraction - You distract Nick from work.

Symphony (NSFW) - Nick welcomes you home in his own special way.

Come Back To Bed - Nick tries to coax you back to bed.

Cancelled - You cancel your plans after Nick comes home exhausted.

How High - You say jump, Nick asks how high.

Bitter Sweet Symphony - Nick steps up when you realise you face a career ending illness.

And The Music Plays On... - Nick helps you come to terms with your diagnosis.

You’re wearing mauve. Nick knows that because everytime you uncross your legs, he gets a flash of those pretty panties from across the room as he tries diligently to finish the email he’s writing.

You’re sitting on the couch in his office, planning out your tour schedule for next year in that wrap dress he likes, the one that just takes a little tug of the bow to undo. Your thighs part just a little as you bite your lower lip and Nick’s cock throbs in his trousers, the seam rubbing across his leaking head.

It’s been a while since he’s been able to get his hands on you, he’s had a few cases eating up his time and you’ve been rehearsing new songs for your tour. He backtracks over the past month and realises it’s been almost two weeks since he last made love to you. His fingertips trail over the keyboard he watches you shift again, the hem of your dress creeping just a little higher and Nick just can’t take it anymore.

“We should take a break.” He says raising to his feet and loosening his tie.

“Alright, just give me a minute.” You say, your focus still on the screen of your own laptop as Nick drops to his knees in front of you. His firm hands come to rest on your thighs separating them and you find yourself staring into his heated eyes as he plucks at the tie of your dress.

“I’ve just realised how long I’ve gone without tasting you.” He murmurs as the fabric falls open, revealing the matching mauve bra. “I think we need to fix that.”

“Oh…” You say, losing the rest of your sentence because Nick’s face is already pressed between your thighs, inhaling the sweet scent of your arousal. The heat from his breath makes you arch against his mouth before his tongue traces over you through the fabric.

“Take them off.” You mutter, shrugging out of your dress. “I don’t want anything between us.”

He peels your panties down your thighs before stripping out of his own clothes, each item falling to the floor at his feet until he’s naked before you. Your fingers thread through his, tugging him down onto the couch with you and he goes willingly. His body covers yours, the heat from it, igniting every single synapse in your body as his palm comes to rest on your jaw, guiding your mouth to his. He fills you slowly, sinking into you inch by inch until he buried to the hilt. You moan into his kiss, your thighs tightening around his hips drawing him deeper and his cock brushes that deviant little spot, the one that makes stars dance behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You murmur and Nick smiles against your lips, your hand running through his hair, gripping it between your fingers as he starts to thrust. “That’s it Nick, right there.”

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#nick baxter #nick baxter x reader #nicholas baxter #nicholas baxter x reader #law and order #tony goldwyn

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autumntouched · 2 years

Text

Top Gun Headcanon - The Twins Edition

Photo cred: evgenyatamanenko

The twins, Jacq and Nicky, live in the Phoenix/Hangman/Rooster triad universe. Their full names are Jacqueline Carole Seresin-Trace and Nicholas Pete Bradshaw-Trace. Through IVF, Jacq is biologically Jake’s child and Nicky is Bradley’s. Hence their different last names.

Natasha was never particularly interested in motherhood and pretty much ruled it out once she joined the Navy so that she could focus on flying and her career. However, a few changes came along in her 30s. The Navy relaxed its policies for pregnant pilots; she had Maverick, Cyclone, and Warlock’s support to ensure her career stayed on track; and she fell in love with two men who chose her over the families they wanted and would make the same choice every time.

When Natasha reconsidered and opened the conversation to Jake and Bradley, they were ecstatic just to have one kid. But with three siblings of her own, Natasha wanted them to have at least one sibling. And with two fathers...well the solution kind of fell into place. With 20 active duty years under his belt at 38 and a few years on Natasha and Jake, Bradley gladly retires from the Navy to give their children a sense of stability while his partners continue to pursue their military careers.

Birthday: Jake hopes the twins will be born on his birthday in late July, but Jacq has other ideas and comes rushing into the world on July 5th. In a dynamic that will continue as they grow up, Nicky isn’t quite so eager to make his entrance but will follow where his sister leads.

Names: Natasha suggests the twins’ names. “Jacqueline” is in honor of Jake’s father, Jack, and Jake’s late sister, Colleen, whose middle name was “Jacqueline.” “Carole” is obvi for Bradley’s mother. Lol and I think we all know where “Nicholas” and “Pete” come from. It’s a rare moment that Maverick cries when he learns Bradley named his son for him.

The twins call Natasha “Mommy,” Bradley “Daddy,” and Jake “Poppy.”

Appearance: As babies and toddlers, both twins have straight blond hair. Jacq also has Jake’s green eyes and dimples but otherwise is the spitting image of Natasha. Except for his mom’s chin and brown eyes, Nicky generally favors Bradley. By six, Jacq’s hair has darkened into her dad’s dirty blond but is as thick and wavy as her mom’s. Nicky starts to look even more like his dad with his darker curls.

Personalities: Like her father, Jacq is a natural leader. She’s bold, assertive, smart, and unafraid to tell anyone how she feels about anything. If the twins get in a fight at school, 9 times out of 10 Jacq is the one involved. 7 times out of 10 it’s in defense of Nicky. With a sister like Jacq, Nicky is far less inclined to stand up or speak up for himself. He takes so long to start talking that Bradley takes him to an SLP, and he and Natasha constantly remind Jacq to let Nicky speak for himself. However, Nicky takes after his father and heaven help anyone who hurts someone he loves or crosses him one too many times. And definitely don’t make Jacq cry. Nicky is quiet, observant, sensitive, and brave. Both twins are generally sweet and loving, but Nicky especially never misses a chance to show or tell his parents and sister how much he loves them.

Like his father, Nicky loves music and learns piano as soon as his little fingers have the motor control to do so. Jacqueline learns mostly because she doesn’t like to be left out of anything Nicky does and because of the attention she gets when playing. She is very much her father’s daughter in that way.

Likes/Dislikes: As bold as she is on the ground, Jacq doesn’t particularly enjoy flying. Nicky can’t get enough.

Nicky also loves to read. Jacq’s confidence and curiosity, and Nicky’s help, hide for several years that she has dyslexia. She loves to draw and enjoys math, which she can do in her head.

Jacq loves going to baseball games with Bradley and watching football with Jake. Nicky prefers to play rather than watch and is as competitive on the field as all of his parents. Maybe a little too competitive.

Jacq and Nicky love legos and can spend all day building and playing together. Jacq doesn’t particularly care for barbies or dolls but adores a pilot barbie that Natasha’s mom gives her. She keeps it especially close when Natasha is gone.

Mulan is Jacq’s favorite Disney character but Lilo & Stitch and Lion King are her favorite movies. Nicky loves Anna from Frozen and Luisa from Encanto but asks to watch Hercules so many times that Jake makes up the lie that Disney+ removed it and Natasha and Bradley go along.

Both twins hate when their family is separated but Jacq struggles the most, especially when Natasha is away. Nicky doesn’t like losing unless it’s to Jacq and vice versa. To their parents’ surprise, the twins don’t really like candy but will eat ice cream for days. Neither Jacq nor Nicky particularly likes when they see that Jake’s teasing or sarcasm upset Bradley or Natasha, and Jake learns to be more thoughtful about his words after Jacq lets him have it one night.

Mischief: For awhile, Jacq’s cunning and Jake’s tendency to spoil the twins causes problems. Jacq knows that Jake is likely to give her a resounding “yes” even if Bradley or Natasha tell her “no.” Eventually this leads to a huge fight between Natasha and Jake, something that scares the twins who so rarely see their mom get angry. That puts an end to Jacq and Jake going behind Natasha and Bradley’s backs, and Jake learns that, at least to the children, he needs to present a united front with his partners. However, he is usually the first to jump in on the twins’ side if there’s a chance to sway the decision.

Both of the twins are precocious, but Jacq can sometimes get ahead of herself in testing her parents’ boundaries or rules.

Nicky hates upsetting his parents so Jacq is usually the reason he finds himself in trouble. However, he hides when his feelings become too overwhelming and that has meant he’s gotten lost a few times, much to his parents’ distress.

Favorites: Jacq is a daddy’s girl through and through and has her Daddy and Poppy firmly wrapped around every one of her chubby baby fingers. However, Jake enjoys spoiling both his children when Natasha and Bradley let him. Nicky is Natasha’s favorite and can get her to melt with just a frown. Despite being wrapped around Jacq’s fingers, Bradley has a special bond with Nicky and is always the first to know when his son needs an extra hug or a listening ear or an encouraging word.

Grandparents: Jake’s parents are ecstatic about having grandchildren and are even readier to spoil Jacq and Nicky than Jake is. As soon as the twins turn five, they spend at least a week every summer in Texas with the Seresins.

The twins love the time they get to spend with Natasha’s mom, whom they call Reyrey. That’s usually when they get to see at least one or several of their cousins, most of whom are older since Natasha has them in her mid 30s. A few younger ones come along when her older brother has an oops baby and her younger sister gets married, and Jacq and Nicky adore the role of looking out for their baby cousins.

But it’s Mav and Penny who they see almost weekly when they live in California and fairly regularly when Natasha and Jake are stationed elsewhere. Mav has enough friends willing to lend him a plane to see his surrogate grandchildren. Jacq and Nicky call Amelia “Aunt Mimi.”

Dagger Squad: Jacq adores Uncle Fitch (Payback) who can’t walk through the Trace household’s door without being bombarded with all the latest excitement in her life. Nicky will insist that Uncle Robby (Bob makes an exception for him) read him at least one book and adores the picture books Uncle Robby draws and writes just for him about twin birds named...Jacq and Nicky. They can always talk Uncle Javy (Coyote) into teaming up against their parents for a prank and Uncle Mickey (Fanboy) is the most fun, shortly followed by Aunt Callie (Halo).

#top gun maverick headcanons #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #children

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embodyingchaos · 1 year

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❥ melt your heart | chapter five

pairing: draco malfoy x oc genre: best friends to lovers! slow burn! warnings: draco being a SNITCH, that's about it word count: 4k masterlist: melt your heart last chapter: chapter four next chapter: chapter six

EVERYONE HAD COME back from their holidays and the first thing julianna did was thank draco for his gift with an enormous hug. the boy's face turned into a bright red at the action before pushing her off and saying that it was nothing, crossing his arms and looking away. they talked about what they did over the holidays. draco spent his time with his mother and julianna talked about all the dumb pranks her and the weasley twins pulled on filch. the slytherin may not like weasleys but he did admit the pranks were pretty funny.

she had also been bear-hugged by hermione who thanked her for the pretty, black, bedazzled hairband she gave her. "well, you know since your hair is so poofy. i thought you would like something to keep it out of your face!" julianna explained and hermione smiled, saying she would always wear it only for special occasions since she wanted to preserve it like the nerd she is.

when classes started again, julianna spent the most of her time with hermione. "i know you're only here so you can indirectly make me do your homework!" "okay, but you're just so good at it!" julianna sheepishly responded and the bushy haired girl rolled her eyes, going back to her work. ron was playing around with his cards and hermione started lecturing him about exams. harry and julianna snicker at the two. "that's insulting! it's as if they don't trust us!" ron exclaimed when hermione told him about the anti-cheating bewitched quills, "he's kind of proving their point." julianna whispered to harry since just before ron said he could copy off of hermione during the exams. "dumbledore again!" he cried, throwing the card onto the table only for harry to pick it up.

in comes neville bouncing with both his legs bound together. "leg-locker curse?" ron muttered and harry immediately stated it was malfoy. "hey, don't assume." julianna said before turning to neville, "nev, what happened?" "malfoy put a leg-locker curse on me." okay, she couldn't face harry now. "you have got to start standing up to people, neville." "how?! i can barely stand at all!" neville exclaimed, seamus suddenly stood up and held his wand. "i'll do the countercurse!" "no, that's all i need! you to set my bloody kneecaps on fire!" seamus looks offended by his words and slams his wand down on the table. "i don't appreciate the insinuation, longbottom! besides, if anyone cared to notice my eyebrows have completely grown back!" as he stomped away, everyone didn't miss the fact a patch of his hair at the back was still bald. "yikes." julianna muttered to hermione who held back a chuckle.

"i found him!" harry suddenly yelled, referring to the card. "dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard grindelwald in 1945. for the discovery of the twelves uses of dragon blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, nicholas flamel!" ron read out loud, "i knew the name sounded familiar! i read it on the train that day." harry said as hermione packed up her things, "follow me!" she exclaimed and the other three trailed after her, "hey! wait! where are you going?" neville shouted after them but only julianna turned around. "what about the countercurse?" he asked, the brunette pulled out her wand from her cloak. "locomotor liberari! okay, bye nev!" she waved as she dashed away to catch up to the other three, somehow, neville still fell over.

as soon as they arrived at the library, hermione went off to go find a book as harry, ron and julianna sat down at one of the tables. julianna was doing the usual, drawing whatever she could see, and today her subject was ron. "what are you doodlin' at?" he asked, trying to see. she held up the book, "you!" and showed a rather exaggerated sketch of ron and his features. "blimey! i don't bloody look like that!" the redhead exclaimed, "been influenced by my brothers to the t, have you?" he angrily asked and the others only laugh.

"i had you looking in the wrong section. how could i be so stupid?" hermione came back with a humongous, heavy book that she placed on the table with a loud thud. "i checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading." "this is light?" ron's incredulous question makes hermione glare at him as she flips through the pages of the book. "of course! here it is! nicholas flamel is the only known maker of the philosopher's stone." "the what?" the three asked in unison, "honestly, don't you three read?" "no? why would i read when i could listen to you telling me about it?" julianna cheekily grinned beside her and hermione ignores her. "the philosopher's stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. it'll transform any metal into pure gold and produces the elixir of life which will make the drinker immortal." "immortal?" "it means you'll never die." "i know what it means!" ron and hermione bicker which causes harry to shush ron.

"the only stone currently in existence belongs to mr. nicholas flamel, the noted alchemist who last year celebrated his 665th birthday." all of their eyes widened, "that's what fluffy's guarding on the third floor. that's what's under the trap door; the philosopher's stone." from that moment on, the four of them decided to see hagrid that night.

deep into the darkness of the night, julianna had rushed out of bed and out of the common room. she met up with the golden trio in one of the halls before they made their way to hagrid's hut. unbeknownst to her, a certain blonde had spotted her and started following all of them.

when they reached hagrid's, harry knocked on his door as hard as he could. the door opened, "hagrid!" "oh, hello. sorry, don't wish to be rude but i'm in no fit state to entertain today." he replied as he was just about to shut the door, "we know about the philosopher's stone!" "sorry, hagrid." julianna muttered after the three exclaimed, hagrid opens the door again. "oh." he simply said before leaving the door open for them to enter. this was the first time julianna had entered hagrid's home and she had to admit, she liked it much better than her humongous family house. it was small but cozy as cozy could get.

"we think snape's trying to steal it." julianna subtly rolls her eyes at harry's words, "snape? blimey, you're not still on about him, are ya?" "hagrid, we know he's after the stone. we just don't know why!" hagrid turned to look at them, "snape is one of the teachers protecting the stone. he's not about to steal it." hermione gives them a weird look, "what?" harry asked in disbelief. "you heard right. come on, now. i'm a bit preoccupied today." the bearded man seemed to be in quite a rush which make julianna look at him quizzically. "preoccupied? with wh-" "wait a minute, one of the teachers?" the hufflepuff glared at harry, "of course! there are other things defending the stone, aren't there? spells, enchantments." "that's right. waste of bloody time, if you ask me." fang, hagrid's dog, was starting to lick ron and he was having a hard time stopping him. "ain't no one gonna get past fluffy. ain't a soul knows how, 'cept for me and dumbledore." hagrid's smile fell from his face when he realised once more, "i shouldn't have told you that. i should not have told you that."

suddenly, the cauldron behind them started crackling, or rather, something inside the cauldron. julianna walked closer to it, "hagrid..?" she asked, "i think your... egg is hatching?" confused, she stepped back and allowed the tall man grab the egg with the oven mitts he had on. however, even the oven mitts didn't help the heat that came with the egg.

the children followed him to the table where he set down the golden object. "hagrid, what exactly is that?" "that? it's, uh.. it's- um-" hagrid was having trouble thinking up a lie. "i know what that is!" "but hagrid, how'd you get one?" ron and julianna looked at each other in horror for a second, they were turning into fred and george. "i won it! off a stranger i met down at the pub. seemed quite glad to be rid of it, as a matter o' fact." he explained, the egg then started shaking vigorously, signifying it was just about time to hatch. like glass shattering, the egg burst open and a tiny, web-like winged dragon came out with squeaky roars. "is that... a dragon?" hermione asked in disbelief, ron and julianna stared in awe. "that's not just a dragon!" "that's a norwegian ridgeback!" ron and julianna did it again and started shoving each other, telling the other to quit it.

"my brother, charlie, works with these in romania." "isn't he beautiful? oh, bless him. look, he knows his mummy." hagrid chuckled with teary eyes, "hello, norbert." he greeted, caressing the side of norbert's neck. "norbert?" "yeah, well, he's gotta have a name, don't he?" ron and harry smile at each other, finding it a tad bit ridiculous that hagrid had named himself a pet dragon. norbert the dragon squawked at hagrid before unintentionally setting his beard on fire with a hiccup of flames. julianna lets out a tiny gasp, "he'll have to be trained up a bit, of course." hagrid's words still leave the rest uneasy but the brunette had to admit, norbert was a pretty adorable dragon.

as hagrid is putting out the fire on his beard, he spots someone through the window. "who's that?" he squinted his eyes to look closer at the figure before they ran away but at the slightest sight of platinum blonde hair, everyone knew who it was. "malfoy." harry chanted, "oh dear." hagrid stated in a low tone, julianna only groaned and allowed her head to fall onto the table with a thud. "i'm sorry." she apologised yet again, harry stared at her. "don't apologise, it's not your fault." he smiled reassuringly at her and then said they should all probably head back to their dormitories before they get in trouble.

however, at the sight of professor mcgonagall, they knew it was too late. "good evening." she greeted the four with a grim look on her face, and from behind her emerged draco with a grin on his face that left when he saw julianna's expression. the five of them followed the professor into a classroom.

"nothing, i repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night." the hufflepuff stared down at the ground, too depressed at the fact that she probably disappointed mcgonagall. "therefore, as punishment for your actions, 50 points will be taken." okay, now it was even worse! not only has she broken a rule, but lost hufflepuff, who was already low in points, 50? her head was going to be on a stake tomorrow morning. "and to ensure it doesn't happen again, all five of you will receive detention." draco's smile drops and he comes forward, "excuse me, professor, perhaps i heard you wrong. i thought you said the five of us." "no, you heard me correctly, mr. malfoy." now, it was the other four's turn to smile. "you see, honourable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours." the smile on harry's face couldn't stop growing, "you will join your classmates in detention." mcgonagall finished and the slytherin looked back at the other four, mostly julianna. she smiled at him and raised her eyebrows saying 'you entirely deserve this'.

detention happened as soon as filch arrived, in fact, he couldn't have arrived sooner. he seemed to be very excited for it. "a pity they let the old punishments die. there was a time detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeon. god, i miss the screaming." filch's words gave julianna no doubt about it; he was most definitely a sadist. they all walked back to hagrid's hut, "you'll be serving detention with hagrid tonight. he's got a little job to do inside the dark forest." the hufflepuff's eyes widened, “the dark forest?! as in, the dark, dark forest?" she whispered to herself, draco looks at her. "don't worry, i'm sure he's just saying that to mess with us." he whispered back to her but she only ignored him, upset over the fact they were only in this position because of him.

"a sorry lot, this, hagrid." filch apologised for troubling the half-giant who only stood there looking depressed and grim, filch noticed. "oh, good god, man, you're not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?" at his words, hagrid sniffled and grabbed his crossbow. "norbert's gone. dumbledore sent him off to romania to live in a colony." he confessed, "well, that's good, isn't it? he'll be with his own kind." "yeah, but what if he don't like romania? what if the other dragons are mean to him? he's only a baby after all!" hagrid argued, his concern and worry for the baby dragon showing clearly. "oh, for god's sake, pull yourself together, man. you're going into the forest after all. got to have your wits about you." filch scolded and hagrid looked down at the ground.

their words shock draco. "the forest?! i thought that was a joke. we can't go in there. students aren't allowed! and there are..." he tried to think of something and the howl from a distance gave him an idea on what to say, "werewolves!" he exclaimed, the sadistic groundskeeper only grinned evilly. "there's more than werewolves in those trees, lad. you can be sure of that." draco looks distressed as filch bids them goodnight and goes back into the castle. julianna wasn't that terrified. there couldn't be that many dangerous creatures in the forbidden forest, why would hagrid live so close to it if there were?

the group of six made their way into the depths of the forest until they came across something peculiar. a puddle of liquid, but not just any type. hagrid kneeled down and took a dollop of the liquid on the ground with his fingers. when he pulled them up, the colour was silver. he stepped towards the children, "hagrid, what is that?" harry asked, his pupils shaking as he looked at the what stained the man's fingers. "what we're here for. see that?" he raised his hand, "that's unicorn blood, that is. i found one dead a few weeks ago." everyone had dark expressions on their faces. "now, this one's been hurt bad by something." julianna looked around the forest, feeling like they were being watched. "so, it's our job to go and find the poor beast. ron, hermione, you'll come with me. harry, julianna, you'll go with malfoy." julianna was dreading this. she swears if either of them fight, she will end their lives by feeding them to any of the werewolves that lived in these woods.

"okay, then i get fang!" "why?" "for extra precaution!" hagrid sighed, "fine. just so you know, he's a bloody coward." fang, the humongous, black dog that had been following them, whines and whimpers, making draco regret even thinking of bringing the dog along with them. the two groups set off in different directions, draco decided to be the one responsible for the light. julianna assumed it was just because if he wanted to run away, he could easily do so with the lantern to light up his path. not even 15 minutes in and the blonde boy was already complaining about having to do all this wretched 'servant' work. "well, we wouldn't have to do all of this work if you hadn't ratted us out, like a snake." julianna spoke up, "oh, how befitting! seeing as my house is a snake!" he retorted, the two glared at each other and harry only smirked. throughout the journey, the two constantly bickered with harry being in the middle, at some point, julianna wanted to just take harry and leave to another direction just so she didn't have to hear draco's ridiculous squawking.

harry was fed up with it after a while, "can you two stop quarrelling like an old married couple?! this is worse than when you two are usually all googly eyes for each other." harry's words leaves the other two in the dust as he walked to the front with fang following. "we do not quarrel like an old married couple!" "we are not all googly eyes for each other!" they say at the same time, chasing after harry. "sure, sure, and i'm not the student snape hates the mo-" he stopped talking once he saw how pale white the two had gotten and looked to the front.

in front of them stood a cloaked figure, drinking the blood of a dead unicorn. julianna gasped and draco started wailing before turning around, grabbing julianna's hand and running off without a second thought, leaving harry behind. "draco! we can't leave harry all by himself! he could get hurt!" "who the bloody hell cares?! we'll just go find that daft oaf hagrid and let him deal with it!" he screamed, clenching her hand in his so tightly that julianna felt as though it was about to be ripped off. they ran all the way to the other side of the forest as quickly as they could with fang trailing after them. once they found the other group, julianna wasted no time in telling them what happened and to follow them.

when they came back, harry was conversing with a centaur. "harry! are you alright?!" julianna yelled, coming back down to pull him into a hug. "i'm sorry i left. draco just dragged me back." she explained when she let go of him and he shook his head, saying it was okay. the centaur left him and they all went back to their respective common rooms for the night. since draco and julianna's common rooms were on each other's way, they walked together. "i'm sorry i dragged you back." the slytherin broke the silence, surprising julianna. "i just... didn't want you getting hurt is all." he quietly muttered while looking away shyly. julianna smiles at this, "it's okay. i understand, but i'd like it if you let me decide where i get to go and where i get to stay." she softly speaks and he nods slowly, "yeah. plus, i'm sure potter needed much more protection than you did anyway." he said in a 'as a matter of fact' tone, the hufflepuff rolled her eyes. "sure, dray." draco swore his heart skipped a beat hearing the name but he ignored it. "right, well. here's the kitchens. i'll see you tomorrow morning. night." he speedily said before rushing off to his own common room, the girl was left puzzled. "night." she replied back in a hushed, longing tone before retreating back to her dormitories.

we fast forward to when exams end 'cause nobody wants to see that. julianna had decided to talk to harry about what he saw in the dark forest that night. he told her that what he'd saw, who'd he saw, was lord voldemort (also known as he-who-must-not-be-named, you-know-who, the dark lord and the list seems never ending). "what?! are you alright?!" she asked frantically and harry chuckled, "well, i'm still here, am i not?" he asked jokingly, trying to lighten the mood but julianna was still extremely concerned. "my scar's been burning ever since, it's been burning a lot." "so we've been told." hermione and ron came up from behind them.

all their uniforms seemed to be worn differently. ron had his untied tie hung around his neck with a few buttons unbuttoned, harry's tie was pushed off to the side slightly and julianna's shirt was untucked and her tie was missing. hermione's was, well, the same considering it's hermione and end of exams or not, appropriate attire is a must.

"maybe you should see madam pomfrey about that scar burning?" julianna suggested as they walk through the archways, "no, it's not visible. it means something. i think it's a warning. it means danger is coming." he said, holding his forehead. when he saw hagrid at his hut, it all clicked for him. "of course!" he exclaimed and the three looked at him off, "what?" ron asked and harry started stomping towards hagrid. "don't you think it's a bit odd that what hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one?" he asked rhetorically and now that julianna thought about it, he was right. "you're right! not many wizards walk around with dragon eggs in their pockets unless they're a dealer, of course but that's highly unlikely since they usually have a certain spot they meet up at." julianna caught up with them barely as they dashed towards the hut.

"hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? what did he look like?" "i don't know. i never saw his face, he kept his hood up." hagrid explained to the antsy 11 year-olds, "the stranger though, you and he must have talked." harry pointed out, hagrid thought back to the moment. "well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures i looked after. i told him, i said, 'after fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem.'." "and did he seem interested in fluff?" hagrid looked at the boy weirdly, "well, of course he was interested in fluffy! how often do you come across a three-headed dog, even if you're in trade? but i told him, i said, 'the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him.' take fluffy, for example. just play him a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep." harry and julianna's eyes widened and they all looked at each other before looking back at silly, old hagrid. "i shouldn't have told you that." his revelation was too late too soon because the four immediately ran back to the castle to inform professor dumbledore of their suspicions.

they stumbled all the way to professor mcgonagall's office to ask for him. "we have to see professor dumbledore, immediately!" harry told the perplexed professor, "i'm afraid professor dumbledore is not here. he received an urgent owl from the ministry of magic and left immediately for london." she informed them and all their expressions turned even more concerned. "he's gone?! now?! but this is important!" harry cried, "this is about the philosopher's stone!" at his words, professor mcgonagall's eyes widened. "how do you know-" "someone's going to try and steal it!" his explanation didn't help their situation now that professor mcgonagall realised they might've been sneaking around in order to figure out all about the philosopher's stone. "i don't know how you four found out about the stone, but i assure you it is perfectly well protected." she took a breath in, "now would you go back to your dormitories? quietly." mcgonagall demanded and the four reluctantly went out of the classroom.

when they reached outside, they talked about the fact that the stranger hagrid met at the village was most definitely snape. "he most definitely knows how to get pass fluffy." they nodded, "and with dumbledore gone-" "good afternoon." a deep, ground-shaking voice emerged out of nowhere and the four turned around to face none-other than the infamous professor snape. "now, what would three young gryffindors and a hufflepuff such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?" he spoke with his usual gravitas and looked at julianna, her eyes widened. "uh- well- um, we're just-" snape raises his eyebrows at her, "no answer for me this time, candy?" the professor then turned to hermione, "you ought to be careful. people will think you're..." he averted his gaze to harry, whom he stared at for a while before his facial features subtly hardened. "...up to something." and with that, professor snape left and the four let out breaths of relief they didn't know they'd been holding in.

"now what do we do?" julianna cried in a hushed tone, harry stared hard at snape's receding form. "we go down the trap door. tonight." harry stated with determination and julianna could only groan. they had no plan, no way of succeeding, this was going to go absolutely swell.

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