#also i miss when Cora kicked children

[sfordaisy]

Skater Bros

[booburry]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Hey! Promise I didn't die...life was just kicking my ass for a bit.

Below is an update to Chapter 7 of Echoes in Time. The working title is "Let me wake from this slumber". Below the read more is the first entry to the chapter.

Update: I know I must feed the children, and I do sincerely apologize for the delay in dinner(read as "It's a Canadian custom to apologize even if you know everyone understands and isn't upset" 🙃). This chapter has been a struggle but I attribute it (hopefully) to the stress I have been dealing with but that cloud has finally passed and I am finding the energy to write again (yaaaaaaaay!). 🥳

Because y'all have been so pleasantly patient and sending lovely messages of support and kind words to this delay (it is honestly such a refreshing feeling, and I am so greatly appreciative to those who reached out and those who silently think the same) I have included a long snippet of the next chapter. I have about 2 to 3 other major scenes to write out before the final edit.

The time spent with Vlad on The Eye went by quickly. It was interesting to hear him talk, his Russian accent being foreign for the time she was in, but a nice and familiar sound for her. He told her, to great lengths, what he did up here, what the purpose of The Eye was, how they tracked anomalies and what they looked like.

“Captain Cora, coming in for docking. Am I clear?” Vlad chuckled at her voice while Mallory only felt more dread—was Sam really using his daughter to try and make her drop her guard?

They were looking at the chartered map to the new anomaly Vlad had found when they were hailed by The Frontier. Mallory’s stomach dropped—was Sam really here? She prayed he didn’t bring that woman with him...

Well...no matter their intent, it was inevitable their meeting.

It was also inevitable that, despite the knot in her stomach, she was excited to see Cora. However, when it was only Cora and Vasco who walked from the Frontier, she became worried, and when Cora ran towards her with tears in her eyes?

That broke her heart.

Cora crashed into Mallory, tightly wrapping her arms around her and hugging her securely. Instinctively Mallory bent down slightly to enwrap Cora with comfort, a hand smoothing the child’s hair.

“I missed you!” She said to Mallory with both pain, sadness and upset.

“I missed you too, kiddo,” Mallory admitted as she placed her nose into her hair, feeling Cora slightly relax in her arms. “It’s that bad, huh?” She asked her after a moment, feeling Cora nod against her.

“Dad has been miserable, and Mom...well it’s been nice when we are alone, but I don’t like how she talks to Dad, or how she talks about you.” Cora muttered into Mallory, her arms tightening towards the end as she processed her anger and dislike towards her mother. “And they fight every night. I think Dad tries to keep his voice down but—why did you have to leave?”

Mallory felt her body jolt as she held back a sob, hearing the pain and anger behind Cora’s words, and at the distress she felt to know how miserable it had been for Sam—she couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about leaving him.

Cora, however, did not hold back any of her tears, as she started sobbing in Mallory’s arms.

“Let it out, kiddo, you’re allowed to be upset by it all—even me being away, alright?” She didn’t let Cora leave her embrace, deepening her hug as she felt the guilt of not being with her—of leaving her behind in that toxic environment. “I’m so sorry, Cora. I wasn’t trying to get away from you, and I am sorry I didn’t talk to you about it.” Cora nodded against her with a sniffle.

“Thank you.” She politely said, her grip on Mallory releasing as she stepped backwards. “Are you going to make me go back?” Cora asked as she rubbed her eyes. Mallory smiled, knowing that she of course would be taking her back if Sam didn’t come here first, but she also had the responsibility to protect the kid from the situation she ran from.

“If I am not mistaken, it is past your bedtime so...best you sleep here, and we take you back in the morning. Okay?” Cora instantly smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “Now, I am sure Vlad would show you a few things. Let me call your Dad so he knows where you are.”

“Oh, I left him a note! He knows.” Cora said with a chirpy tone, skipping off to Vlad, her child-like enthusiasm springing back into her step as she knew she was safe. Mallory smiled while she felt that pit grow at the idea of Cora’s notes, the words she wrote her filling her mind—completely unhelpful as Mallory was about to call her father.

As she watched Vlad and Cora mutter about something, she picked up the direct comm line to The Lodge. She waited until the connecting tone was finished—meaning someone picked up.

“Hello?” Mallory asked in a rushed tone, but when she heard nothing in return, she got a bit snippy. “Hello?!” She demanded.

“Uh, hi.” Sam slowly greeted, the demand and anger in Mallory immediately disappearing. “She’s with you, isn’t she.” Sam continued, saying it as a fact and not a question, his voice giving away how broken he was.

“Yes, she said she left you a note...” Mallory advised, feeling another rush of guilt that he wasn’t here for her to comfort. She heard him give an empty laugh.

“Yeah, I...I found it when I went to check on her. I can’t—” He stopped his speech with an exasperated sigh. “I gotta stop fucking this up.” He muttered, obviously to himself but Mallory could not unhear it and knew where those words, that thought of blame, came from.

“Is she still there?” Mallory asked slowly, and when Sam didn’t respond, she only pushed on. “I know I may be overstep—”

“No, Mallory, you aren’t.” Sam cut her off, the emptiness even more present in his voice than before. “I’m so sorry.” He added, an evident strain in his voice, a breathlessness that was only brought on through pain and guilt. “I’m, uh, I’m working on getting her to leave.” He added quietly.

All Mallory could do was take a deep, shaken, breath.

“I won’t bring her back while she is there Sam, so...just call us once she does.” She said before hanging up, knowing if she listened to his voice any longer, her walls would start to crumble again—and she couldn’t risk losing that safety.

Mallory turned to look at Cora, forcing a small smile towards her as she saw how anxious she suddenly looked. Vlad had brought her over into the living quarters to get her a space to stay.

“Your mom’s almost gone, kiddo. Just going to hang out here until your dad calls.” Mallory stood next to Cora, smoothly running a hand over her hair with nothing but affection and warmth behind the motions. Cora, naturally, fell into Mallory. “You tired?” She asked and Cora just quietly. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Mallory slowly started walking, holding onto Cora and slowly guiding her to the closest cot.

“Would you...would you read to me?” She asked Mallory, a soft pain in her voice behind the request. “I—Dad used to read to me and make silly voices...you don’t have to—”

“I’ll try my best.” Mallory immediately reassured Cora, her heart melting that she would seek such comfort from her and also at the idea of Sam reading bedtime stories to his daughter with a multitude of voices. She tucked Cora in and grabbed one of the many books that were within the living quarters. And so, until Cora was deep into her sleep, Mallory sat and read ‘Dracula’ to her with her best, stereotypical, accent for the character—which she also had to explain to Cora was the original accent associated with the literature, immediately curious at what she thought was the ‘normal’ one. Her signal to stop was Cora’s light snoring and Vlad letting her know Sam was on the comm line for her.

[not-krys]

63. Do Not Disturb [Houki, Abby, Clara, Miri]

Hey, made a new banner for WIP Wednesdays!

This post is brought to you by the sleepies as I didn't stray much from that idea in these prompts. All of them have at least one person sleeping in it, lol

Regular warnings apply: Raw, incomplete writing below. In this entry, we have:

-A sneaky Mitsuhide that is foiled by the power of Mitsunari's reading trance -Mentions of pregnancy and children in Abby's entry. Fluffy as always -Fluff with Clara and Nokto. Maybe some implied mentions of nudity and 'adult activities' from the previous evening? -Simeon and Satan talking about studying for the upcoming exams. Miri and Luke had fallen asleep during Satan's lecture but he's not mad. Based on Lesson 30-1 in the OG game. Added in some talk that something might be wrong with Miri (meant to be foreshadowing for later lessons).

-----

Houki

The afternoon sun was high in the sky when Mitsuhide decided to visit Hideyoshi's manor. He had no pressing business there save for a small letter he wanted to personally deliver and now was wandering the grounds. It was a pleasantly quiet day with a small breeze brushing through the grass and the trees.

He then spotted a pair of lovers sitting under a tree. Mitsunari was reading a book settled on his lap while his lady companion, Houki, leaded against his shoulder, eyes closed with her glasses threatening to slip down her nose. A very quaint scene indeed.

Mitsuhide then saw Mitsunari's vacant stare, a sure sign of him having entered his reading trance. Tugging his hair and putting things near his mouth proved an entertaining pastime (especially when he could rile up Hideyoshi in the process) and the urge to tease the younger man was strong.

However, he could also tease his lady friend. Her reactions could prove more entertaining as she was only sleeping, unaware of her surroundings in a similar yet different way. Would she act in anger at a disrupted rest or perhaps she'll mewl cutely with a yawn while wiping her eyes? Both seemed delightful in their own ways.

Mitsuhide approached them silently, not even the grass under his feet or the wind giving him away.  Slowly, he lowered himself to Houki's level, thinking of how he should disturb her. Perhaps her slipping glasses would be a good starting point? He could take them off her face entirely and hide them? He could slip them to the top of her head? Perhaps he could also put them on Mitsunari's nose?

With a steady hand, he reached for her precarious eye-wear, about to gently lift the pieces from her ears.

Suddenly, another's hand grabbed his, startling Mitsuhide. He looked down to see Mitsunari's sleeved hand holding his, quite firmly at that. When he turned to look at the hand's owner, Mitsunari still held his empty stare, his eyes still glued to the paper and ink in his lap. Even while Mitsuhide stared at him, waiting for a response, Mitsunari stayed silent.

"Are you truly that unaware…" Mitsuhide mumbled.

Then, there was a new problem he had to deal with: Mitsunari hadn't yet released him. His grip was unyielding and starting to hurt.

----------

Abby

"Vincent? Boys? Uncle Theo is going to be here soon!" Abby called through the house, looking for her little family. They weren't outside, else they would have said something, so they should be inside somewhere. She shuffled across the floor, waddling with the added weight of the baby in her belly.

Cora was scheduled to be born in another three or so weeks, but moving around much this late was challenging. Still, there was things to do and Theo was coming to visit, so she needed everyone ready in time.

She looked in the kitchen and the family room, but no sign of them. She could try trekking upstairs to find them, but, again, it would be difficult with Cora. She even seemed worried about her missing father and brothers, the way she was kicking. Abby rubbed her belly to calm her.

"We'll find them, don't worry. Maybe they're playing hide and seek? Will loves that game."

She peeked outside one more time, just to be sure. The early summer sun was hitting just right with the crickets chirping in the distance. It was a peaceful day, perfect for afternoon nap.

She then heard soft snores around the corner.

On the porch, sitting in the outdoor chairs were Vincent and their two boys, all napping in the sun with art supplies strung everywhere. Crayons, paint, water cups, and loose papers were all over the place with scribbles of every color imaginable. It was a regular sight in their household and Abby giggled softly.

"Like father, like sons, I suppose."

It seemed a crime to wake them as she couldn't bend down to pick up all of the mess by herself, but Theo was coming and she didn't want her home to be a complete wreck for visitors. But her hopes were dashed when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Here you all are-!"

Abby placed her hands over Theo's mouth, shushing him. Theo looked surprised.

------

Clara

Slivers of dawn peeked through the thick red curtains, waking Clara from her deep slumber. Brushing back her loose hair behind her ear and sitting up, she looked around the silent room. Silent save for the soft breathing beside her.

Ah, right, Nokto had just gotten back home after a longer than normal stay abroad. They both understood the necessities of it, trade and good relations and whatnot. It never stopped the longing and loneliness that accompanied the necessity of being apart, for propriety's and safety's sake. Some places were slow on the uptake of Rhodolite having a new king and not entirely pleased with it. Even fewer were happy with Rhodolite's new queen having commoner roots. So, separation at times was necessary, but the heartache never got any easier. All the worries of if he was getting enough rest or if she was working too hard always plagued them until they could be together again.

They had made up for lost time in the entirety of his absence in a few hours' time of his return, the cool air of the room reminded her as it caressed her bare skin. His eyes bags betrayed his fatigue, now much clearer in the daylight hours. She should have held off, in her heart of hearts she knew she should have for his sake, but should haves don't do much for the now's. And her heart had been just as desperate for him as he had been for her. No regrets but at the same time… some regrets, in hindsight.

With a sigh, Clara put her hands in her hair, pulling it back and twisting it neatly, making her low bun as it was second nature to her. She should get dressed, maybe make a special breakfast for Nokto when he wakes up. He did just get back and he needed the rest, she was sure of that. A morning of undisrupted sleep for the king. That sounded ideal.

When Clara put her hands back onto the bed, intent on getting up to start the day, the touch of another warm, familiar hand, stopped her. Looking back, she saw one ruby red eye cracked open, staring at her.

"It's too early," his voice was hoarse, making Clara smile.

"You can sleep in if you want."

His grip tightened.

"…Just got back."

"All the more reason to sleep in."

"Not without you."

He was pleading with her.

"You missed me that much?" She teased.

"Yes."

"A miracle." she giggled. "Fatigue has made an honest man of you."

"You made me an honest man, get your facts straight."

She laughed again.

------

Miri

"And that was how the Great Celestial War ended-!"

The library had grown suspiciously quiet. No quiet scratching of pens or page flipping. No whispered questions from Luke to Simeon, or even of Miri's foot that had been swinging and sliding on the rug previously. Satan lowered his textbook in his hand, only to be greeted by twin soft snores and Simeon's apologetic grin. Satan sighed.

"Really?"

"It was a lot to take in for the two of them."

"It's all on the exam! How do they expect to-" Satan sighed again, giving up.

"They tried their best to keep up and that's the most important part." Simeon pointed to the pages of notes the other two had kept while listening to Satan's lecture. Luke's was relatively neat and organized, as was expected of the younger angel. And while her handwriting wasn't exactly neat, Satan smiled at spying some little doodles alongside Miri's notes, like a bunch of trees in the section about the Devildom's beginnings, and a three-legged crow in the margins. Simeon chuckled, catching Satan's attention.

"What? Did you think of something funny?"

"Hmm… how do I explain it?" Simeon looked skyward. "As I was listening to your lecture, I couldn't help thinking…"

"About what?"

"Our history is so violent and bloody. Yet now we're able to gather in peace and study it together like this… it really is amazing."

Simeon then looked fondly at Miri and Luke, both with their heads in the arms on the table, happily in their private dream lands.

"Did you ever imagine we would get to this point?"

Satan shook his head with a smile.

"Hmm… can't say I did, no."

He watched Miri more closely, seeing her breathe in and out gently. Her pink curls cascaded over her shoulders and on the table, reminding him of cotton candy. Satan also couldn't help but notice she was paler than usual, almost to a sickly quality. It was the first he'd seen of it. Had the stress of the exams been getting to her and he never noticed?

He did, however, notice that there was something in Miri's curls that wasn't there before and frowned.

"Hey," he said pointedly at Simeon, "what are you doing?" 

"What do you mean," Simeon said innocently, "I was just stroking her hair."

"Don't get so touchy-feely with her."

"Why?"

"Just.. don't, okay?"

"Why? Are you jealous?" Simeon smiled.

"It's nothing like that, but don't touch her."

"Ah, you're just being her protective big brother, then?"

"You're still touching her."

"Her hair is quite soft," Simeon teased, "You should try it once you get the chance."

Satan glared, wanting to pull the angel's hand off of Miri, but didn't want to disturb her rest.

"She… hasn't been feeling well lately, has she?" Simeon asked as Satan's eyes widened.

"How did you-?"

"She feels warm, more than normal." Simeon took off one of his gloves and touched two fingers against her forehead, then her cheek, then her throat.

"Is she sick?"

"Not exactly, at least not yet."

"Maybe the stress of the exams are getting to her? Like you said, it's a lot to take on if it's all new to you."

"Possibly."

Satan then remember when they had all went to the Carnival before the exams started. When Beel had been throwing his food temper tantrum and he, Lucifer, and the others had been drawn into the fight. Miri had looked upset (naturally, they were all being idiots at the time), the pact marks on her body started to glow, somehow escaping her notice. Next thing he knew, she was yelling at all of them to stop fighting and he landed on the ground, hard, unable to move a muscle. Painful groans from his brothers told him they suffered the same fate, five more bodies accompanying him on the floor.

He also remembered hearing a soft something hitting the floor, his eyes trailing to see Miri's new zombie iguana plush she had gotten at the carnival fallen from her grasp. Looking up further, he saw the look of horror on her face, both hands covering her mouth. The ghost waiters surrounded her, praising and applauding her happily, but she took no notice of it, only staring as the six of them laid pinned to the ground.

"Maybe… something else is affecting her?"

"Hm?"

"She's been scared to use the pacts ever since that fight at the Ghost Café. It was such a powerful force that none of us could escape from."

"I remember hearing about that," said Simeon. "Solomon said the first time he tried commanding multiple demons at once, his body ached for a while afterwards."

"She didn't look like she was hurting after the fact." All of his brothers definitely were, he remembered that part clearly, but not Miri. "She was just really quiet, not really talking to any of us after the fact. Lucifer kept staring at her, too. It was weird."

"Hmm…" Simeon put his glove back on, lost in thought.

[in-the-shadow-of-a-wolf]

Laura claims that she had always loved long walks by herself, but Talia knows better. Ever since the fire that almost claimed the Hale family, all of the Hale family has taken a more gaurded edge. Laura walks everyday to check the perimeter and the woods for any signs of hunters.

Derek has become more closed off, insisting on homeschooling the rest of high school, most night staying up to watch over the house.

Peter has taken it upon himself to train the children to defend themselves and to find out who broke the mountain ash circle that had the family trapped in the house, and has personally dragged Peter out of the house.

Talia becomes fast friends with the Sheriff to keep apprised of the goings on of Beacon hills, but also because she thinks he’s lonely ever since his son went missing the same night of the fire.

It’s fall now, several years have passed since that terrifying night. Laura stumbles apon a fox caught in a trap, half buried in fall leaves. He doesn’t fight her when she breaks him free and cradles him in her arms. The young fox seems tired, under fed, with burn scars in its side.

Laura is not a few feet from the newly built home when Peter rushes out of the house, recognizing the scent of the one who pulled him out of the fire, they one who broke the barer.

Talia knows better to forse a young shapeshifter to change back after a trama. The Hales take turns looking after the fox. When he’s stronger Laura takes him on walks with her. Peter reads to him in the library. Talia brings him into town, no one daring to ask her why she has an unleashed fox walking down the street with her.

Derek at first is distant as always with the fox. But one day the fox grabs the book Derek is reading forcing the scowling young man chase the shifter in the front yard. Soon Derek finds himself laughing with the cackling fox, the sound swelling Talia’s heart. In a blink of an eye Derek and Fox are inseparable.

After Thanksgiving, Derek and the fox eat so much they both fall asleep on the couch, curled around each other. Peter asks Talia if Derek has figured it out yet, she smiles and shakes her head.

No one mentions when the fox starts sleeping in Dereks bed every night. When Derek is restless and can’t sleep the fox will curl in his lap till he comes back to bed. And when the fox twitches in his sleep from unspoken nightmares, Derek wakes him up and holds him until they both fall back against the pillow.

As winter sweeps in, the family is down in the living room unpacking Christmas decorations while Peter is cooking breakfast. There is an all too familiar scent coming down the stairs, with unfamiliar foot steps. They all look up stunned to see a young man in one of Derek’s unworn red sweater and sweatpants. He rubs the back of his neck shrugging his lanky shoulders.

“Hey so, I’m Stiles. I like waffles ?”

After jubilation and a overly hearty breakfast feast, Stiles explained all those years ago he had stumbled apon the Hale house and saw that it was on fire. He kicked the mountain ash while running toward the house without realizing what he had done. He had found Peter and pulled him out, getting burned in the proses. Hunters had shot at Stiles and without understanding how, he shifted into a fox and bit the hunter. Talia had made it out with the rest of the family by then so he ran into the forest. Stiles wasn’t sure what had happened or how to shift back. Stiles didn’t find out much later the Hales were werewolves. Stiles also mentioned a Coyote in the forest who hung around a crashed car, thinking he might be a shifter stuck like him. Talia promised that she would look at it in the morning, after they told his father that Stiles was alive and well. Stiles talked and talked, but the family didn’t care because they were just so happy to finally to get know him.

By the time it was time for bed, Stiles shifted nervously on his feet. Derek asked what was wrong with a lift of his eyebrow. “Not sure where I’m supposed where I’m supposed to crash for the night. I mean I totally am cool with the couch! Hell the floor is cool with me being a fox for so long-! Not that the floor is not good enough-! It just ... well I kind of-.” Derek just grabbed Stiles arm and pulled him toward the detection of Derek’s room. Peter smiled after them and Talia narrowed her eyes at her brother. Peter raised his hands “Don’t worry Talia; I have a bet with Cora to see how long it will take the both of them to realize that they’re mates. I’m a romantic at heart, and said they’ll have it figured out by Christmas”

Unfortunately for Cora, Peter was right as usual , grinning has he held out his hand for the money owed as they caught Stiles and Derek kiss by the Christmas Tree.

[lhs3020b]

Axiom’s End, by Lindsay Ellis

I finished this book last night, and it’s very likely the most interesting book I’ve read so far in 2021.

This is a book that’s hard to discuss without spoilers, so please be aware that the Spoiler Light is on for all commentary below the cut...

SYNOPSIS

Cora Sabino’s life is a bit of a mess. She’s dropped out from college, is currently living with her mother Demi (a situation that neither of them like) and is working in a soul-destroying temp job at a crap company. To make it worse, her estranged father Nils is a Julian Assange-type figure whose continual leaks of classified documents have made Cora’s family a surveillance target for various three-letter agencies. The year is 2007, Bush is the President and it’s the era of peak War on Terror hysteria.

Then a meteor comes down just outside Los Angeles. In the aftermath of this event, Nils releases documents alledging that the US government has secretly held a group of aliens - the so-called “Fremda group” - prisoner for years, and that the public is being misled about the occurence of this First Contact.

Cora wants nothing to do with Nils or his schemes - the man is a toxic narcissist who abandoned his wife and children, after all, and has been a source of nothing but trouble in their lives. Then, one night, Demi’s house gets burgled.

The burgler turns out to be Ampersand, an actual literal alien, who recently arrived on Earth. The meteor that smashed windows across Los Angeles was actually his spacecraft (the fact that the descent seems to have been uncontrolled is a detail that’s never elaborated on in the story, interestingly). Ampersand is very much on Earth for his own reasons, and they may not align with any human concerns. Ampersand wants data on where the Fremda group may have been kept - as Cora’s family are relatives of Nils, he assumes they may know something, hence the burglary. Once it becomes apparent they don’t, he resorts to a Plan B. And Cora finds herself ensnared in an escalating mess of both human and alien schemes.

DISCUSSION

Ampersand is a character who is hard to work out in some ways. On the one hand, it’s arguable whether “he” is really anyone’s friend. (A small side-note on the gendering: Cora notes in-universe that assigning “him” a male gender is probably misleading - it’s doubtful that Ampersand sees himself as being either male or female in the human sense - but his translated voice sounds male, so in the end she just decided to roll with it. Ampersand him - or itself/themself - doesn’t seem to care one way or the other about this particular issue.)

Ampersand’s behaviour is quite amoral. He’s happy to deceive people, lie by omission and - as we learn later on - has some quite grim things in his backstory. His evident dislike of humans becomes particularly ironic when you learn what he did to learn how human language works. (Yes, Superorganism, we have moral flaws. But honestly? You’re not any better.) He also has no problem abducting Cora and sticking a chip in her - but, that said, he also passes on a few opportunities to Kick the Proverbial Dog. Once he makes his agreement with Cora, he actually sticks to it and keeps up his end of the bargain.

Also, his underlying motivation - trying to help a group of refugees who have fled an alien genocide - is sympathetic.

Lastly, there are the events of the ending. He could easily have abandoned Cora while she was severely injured after the final encounter with Obelus - in fact it probably would have made his escape easier, and he might even have been able to save the Genome if he had - but instead he stops the bleeding, repairs the worst of her injuries and then takes her straight to the nearest hospital. (Whether he also settled her hospital bills is never addressed...)

But on the other hand, Ampersand is frankly the architect of many of his own problems. It’s clear he’s lied to everyone about everything, including his own people in the Fremda group. As the book goes on it becomes less and less clear whose side he’s actually on - honestly it’s not entirely clear if he even knows himself. (He stops Cora from killing Obelus, when she very nearly did.) It’s also notable that had Cora actually followed Ampersand’s directions late in the book - roughly, “leave this place and never come back, no matter how you feel”  - then what remained of the Fremda group would almost certainly have been exterminated by Obelus. There are only any survivors at all basically because Cora decides to take matters into her own hands and sneaks back to the barn when Ampersand isn’t looking.

There is a definite theme in this book about narcism; Nils is the most obvious example, but I think it can also be applied to Ampersand and the Superorganism more generally. Ampersand has trouble wrapping his alien head around the idea that humans have agency or indeed any “skin in the game”. He also has a low opinion of our species as a whole - but the more you find out about the Superorganism, it cannot be argued that they’re any better than us, just older and more advanced. Lastly, the Superorganism itself seems to have the same problem - they seem to be baffled that the transients are so hostile, but it’s no surprise given that the Superorganism never misses a chance to try to kill them whenever it meets them. Meanwhile the Autocrat’s plan to solve a political problem through internal genocide has clearly backfired - whatever you think of the situation, dragging a third species (us!) into the Superorganism/transient mess has not worked out to the Autocrat’s advantage. (If nothing else, the Autocrat is now having to expend resources on a situation that does not directly-relate to containing the transients and while the Superorganism’s capabilities are clearly large, they’re also ultimately-finite.)

People think they know better, but each clever scheme just escalates the mess they’re already in. If you’re in a hole you should stop digging, but instead this lot go and fetch themselves a Channel Tunnel-style boring machine!

As for Cora, she’s in the “ordinary person in extraordinary circumstances” role. Honestly, she does pretty well, all considered. You couldn’t really blame her if she’d ended up sat in a darkened corner rocking backwards and forwards, but she doesn’t. She stays on her feet throughout, manages to react effectively to changing circumstances, and more-or-less threads the needle on a whole mess of competing factions (Obelus/Ampersand/the Fremdas/the US government). Her relationship with Ampersand also evolves over the book, from intense mutual suspicion to something a bit more nuanced. There’s also a hilariously fan-ficcy bit near the very end, though I won’t spoil it if you haven’t read the book :)

One thing I couldn’t quite work out was, when exactly did Ampersand fusion-bond Cora? It was apparently subtle - she didn’t seem to specifically-notice anything when it happened, though the aftereffects became increasingly obvious. (Apparently it also didn’t play out in quite the way Ampersand expected either, though given that Cora’s central nervous system is completely different from his, it’s a bit surprising that he thought it would behave predictably. Though, this arguably does bring us back to the point about the narcissm issue - do something without any thought to the consequences is a very narcisstic way to act.)

Lastly, the ending does leave quite a few things open. What did Luciana actually know? What are the Fremda group survivors going to do now? Who or what is the third species? Are the transients really here on Earth and if so, why? But there are going to be sequels, so I’m sure we’ll find out :)

[shawnssongs]

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 ⋄ 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

02. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

It’s the first day of senior year (also we’re just going to pretend they’re all seniors in high school, the pogues and the kooks, including Rafe at Kildaire County High)

series masterlist 01.

an: sorry this chapter is kind of boring! I promise there’ll be more action in the next one :)

warnings: typos, probably wc: 1.4k ish

thanks @jjmaybankx for the moodboard!

It was finally here. The first day of senior year. JJ never cared much about school since it had never been on his list of priorities, but he always loved the first day. He’d usually spend all summer working or hanging out with his friends, so being the social butterfly that he is, he loved catching up with everyone else that he really only saw at school. Plus, at this point, he needed to catch up with his own friends as well. He felt like he hadn’t seen John B, Kie, Pope, and Sarah in months, and other than a few “hey”s here and there, he truly hadn’t.

John B was the same way. Ever since finding out what happened to his father, he’d gotten back on track with his education. His grades improved junior year, especially with the help of Sarah Cameron. John B was ready to catch up with his friends, but he was really just waiting for JJ. His best friend had been MIA all summer.

“John B!” Kiara greeted with open arms when she noticed her best friend standing next to his beaten up Volkswagen.

John B accepted the hug gladly.

Sure, JJ had been absent, but John B had also admittedly been spending more time with Sarah than with the rest of the pogues.

“Where ya been?” He asked her with a smile.

“Around,” Kiara chided, “unlike you, lover boy.”

John B chuckled at Kie when he noticed Pope approaching. They all greeted each other, catching up a bit when Pope asked where Sarah was.

John B shrugged in response. “Met a new girl. She told me she was going to show her around.”

“Sarah loves strays,” Kiara acknowledged.

“There he is!” Pope cheered, gazing behind John B and Kiara at the missing member of their group.

“Man of the hour!”

“Where have you been?” John B asked when JJ was close enough, reaching his hand out for a quick hug.

Kiara prodded. “Yeah, what have you been doing all summer?”

JJ just smiled, playing it off. “I was hanging around at the beach.”

“So were we.” Pope added.

“Guess we didn’t cross paths.” JJ shrugged.

“Or you were too busy checking out tourons to talk to your friends.” Kiara crossed her arms across her chest accusatorily.

“Nah, I did meet this one cool chick though.”

John B noticed the little twinkle in his eyes. “You mean she put out?” He asked, earning a punch in the arm from Kiara and a glare from Pope.

“Is that all you ever think about?” Sarcasm dripped through JJ’s voice. Clearly, he was the one with that reputation, not John B.

The group continues to giggle like children and tease each other as they caught up outside Kildaire County High.

Meanwhile, Sarah Cameron had been incredibly helpful to you so far. You met her just a few days ago when you found out you’d be staying in the Outer Banks instead of moving back home. She agreed to meet you early and show you around the school a bit so you wouldn’t be too lost on your first day.

“Do I look okay, Sarah?” You ask her, noticing all the students walking around in cut off shorts and crop tops. You weren’t allowed to wear just anything like that back home at your private school, so you really weren’t prepared. In a pair of linen shorts and a button up tee, you felt a bit out of place.

“Sure!”

“I’m really nervous.”

“You look terrific,” she complimented.

“So this is Kildaire County High?” The school seemed surprisingly active. It was small, and rundown, unlike your school back home, and even though your old school was large and daunting, somehow you still felt more intimidated by Kildaire County. The uncertainty was causing your nerves to run rampant.

Sarah gripped your arm to calm you. “I know it’s not much, but you’ll love it. Come on,” she smiled, “I’ll help you find your first class.”

With Sarah’s help, you managed to make it through your first couple classes of the day until it was finally time for lunch. The cafeteria looked run down and dirty, but luckily Sarah pulled you outside to meet Kiara, who she’d described as her best friend.

“Y/n, this is Kiara. Kie, this is Y/n!” Sarah introduced giddily, excited to have another friend to do girly things with like shop and do each other’s hair and makeup. The boys would partake sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. Kiara was just as stunning as Sarah, the two of them contrasting in every way. Kiara’s skin and hair both darker than Sarah’s golden complexion, the straightened strands of Sarah’s light hair next to Kiara’s curls. As beautiful as they were, somehow you didn’t feel envious. You felt content. You felt sure that these two girls were people you wanted to keep around. Back home you never got that feeling. You were always comparing yourself to the other girls, trying to be like them or dress like them because that was what was most desired. Here, with Kie and Sarah, you knew they’d accept you for you, and you weren’t afraid to be yourself, because they clearly weren’t.

“Hey!” Kiara greets, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you!” You smile as she reached out for a hug.

The two girls caught up on each other’s summers a small bit of time since they’d spent most of it together. You gathered that Sarah is dating a cute surfer boy named John B, and Kiara has a thing for a studious kid named Pope. It wasn’t long before Sarah asked you how your summer in the Outer Banks had gone, and boy were you glad to tell.

“I met a boy at the beach.” You boasted, unable to hold back your smile.

The guys ate their lunch by the Volkswagen because Sarah apparently didn’t want them to scare away the new girl she’d befriended. He didn’t mind though. They had a lot of catching up to do.

“Okay, so what happened with that girl you met this summer? Stop playin’ around.” John B asked his friend sternly, not wanting anymore jokes.

“Nothing!” JJ lied, but he knew he couldn’t get away with it.

Pope rolled his eyes. “Sure, nothing.”

“Come on, you guys don’t want to hear all the horny details, right?”

The guys pestered him until he finally gave in.

“Alright! I’ll tell you.”

“Oh he was so romantic!” You gush. “And cute. Really cute.”

The girls ooh and aww as you continue your story.

“He ran by me, showing off, splashing around.”

“She swam by me and got a cramp. I saved her life, man.” JJ embellished. “She almost drowned.”

Pope and John B didn’t believe him, but they let him keep going. “Took her surfing, showed her the ropes.”

“We went strolling along the beach. We stayed out until ten o’clock.”

“We made out under the dock.”

“Then what?” Pope asked.

“We got friendly.” JJ quirked a brow, smirking at his curious friend. “Down in the sand, if you know what I mean.”

“He got friendly, and he held my hand,” you explain to the girls, recalling the memories. “He was sweet. He just turned 18.”

You pause, the girls watching you in anticipation. “It got colder. That’s where it ends. That’s when we made our true love vow.” You knew it’s sounded extreme, but you wouldn’t explain it any other way. You loved JJ Maybank, even if you only got to spend one summer with him, and losing your virginity to JJ was you vowing your love to him.

“Y’know, I told her we’d still be friends.” JJ shrugged. “I wonder what she’s doing now.” He truly did, more than the guys knew. Y/n was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and now she’s just gone, clear on the other side of the States.

“He sounds real nice.” Sarah smiled. She was a hopeless romantic, of course. She loved the story.

You agree. “He was a gentleman.”

“What was his name?” Kiara asked, sure she’d recognize any of the locals.

“JJ. JJ Maybank.”

Kiara noticed Sarah’s eyes widen and just before she was able to tell you, Kiara kicked her leg under the table.

“Maybe if you believe in miracles,” she started, “he’ll show up again, somewhere unexpected.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course!” Sarah chimed in, a bright smile adorning has face.

The six of them went back to class as the bell rung, all blissfully unaware of the events to come.

an: kinda hate this ngl... excited for the next chapter though :) thanks for reading, and please send feedback!

also, ty to now both @milaonthemoon​ and @storiesbymads​ for your spotify playlists that helped while I wrote and edited this :)

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[sobriquett]

Dear Trick or Treat Author

Dear Trick or Treat Author,

[WIP: 23:50 BST 19/09/21]

What a wonderful time of year! (Or is that Yuletime? Nearly there too!)

Hello! I am very easily pleased so please take this as a starting point if you need some ideas but otherwise write what makes you happy! I know horror tropes/genre are in my dislikes but if you want to write a scary trick, you do that, yes please! Just play within the canonical world (werewolves in Milton-Northern, vampires at Thornfield, ghosts at the White House) and I'll be a happy reader (but please still stay aware from my gore-related DNWs!).

My normal ramble about what I enjoy in fic isn't really relevant to a 300+ word exchange but you can find it in past letters, click the letter tag.

That said, things missing from my main signup include these:

Loves: exploration of power imbalances Likes: epistolary

My fandoms are in alphabetical order (ish), so here we go!

1.      16th Century CE RPF

Anne Boleyn Anne of Cleves Catherine of Aragon Catherine Parr Elizabeth I of England Henry VIII of England Margaret Pole Countess of Salisbury Robert Dudley 1st Earl of Leicester Thomas Seymour (1508 – 1549)

I've been on a bit of a Philippa Gregory kick this summer reading the Cousins' War series out of order. I'd love more stories about these figures – with some of them (Henry VIII in particular!) it's pretty easy to lean into the trick side of things, but there's treat potential too. Add more characters if you want; I've been reading histories and historical novels on this period for many, many years so if you drop in Maria de Salinas or Stephen Fisher or Kat Ashley or Thomas Cromwell or anyone I'm up for that, but I am also a laidback reader and this is a low-stress exchange, don't tie yourself in knots over accuracy. (Although I would, and I'd definitely recommend Ruth Goodman's How to be a Tudor if you haven't read it, even if you're not normally a non-fiction reader.)

What if [any utterly disastrous thing] didn't happen, or perhaps was somehow worse? Did Elizabeth and Dudley actually have some happiness in a romance, however brief? How did Anne of Cleves feel to retire as the King's beloved sister? What was Margaret Pole thinking on the morning of her execution? Is Henry VIII haunted by the ghosts of some of those he killed: friends and lovers and family? Did anything actually happen between Elizabeth I and Thomas Seymour (There's historical room for a secret pregnancy in the country…)

2.      Downton Abbey

Mary Crawley Edith Crawley Sybil Crawley Matthew Crawley­ Tom Branson Robert Crawley Cora Crawley Violet Crawley Isobel Crawley Lavinia Swire Anna Bates Evelyn Napier Freda Dudley Ward Marigold Crawley George Crawley Ship: Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley

This is like my TV comfort blanket. I rewatched it this year and I am interested in just about every main character except, oddly, Thomas – who is the favourite fic character of most writers! Give me a missing moment, a look at the future, a glance at the past, a look from the outside – whatever. Any point in, before or after canon is cool with me, except I tend to skim a lot of S4 (ugh, that rape storyline, please don’t use that).

Do ghosts walk the halls of Downton Abbey? What is life like in Ireland for Tom and Sybil? Do any of the characters ever feel a moment of true despair? What if Matthew had died in the war? What does the future hold for these characters? How did Robert, Cora and Violet get on in the 1890s? What was Carson like with Mary/Edith/Sybil as children? Does it parallel his relationship with their children?

3.      The Good Place

Eleanor Shellstrop Chidi Anagonye Tahani Al-Jamil Jason Mendoza Michael Janet

This is another show I can watch over and over and over. I think Chidi's my favourite but it's hard to be sure. I can tell you I absolutely sobbed during the S3 finale and I was a wreck for the S4 finale. Tug my heartstrings, make me laugh, make me cry, I don't care! I've studied philosophy and despised it so I'll take or leave what you include on that score, I just love the characters. Please include any or all other characters you'd like, but I definitely ship Eleanor/Chidi over Chidi/Simone! Although I'll take angst in that direction too! I don't know, I feel like a kid in a candy store writing this letter: hyper and having trouble deciding between all the possible wonders!

Existential dread? Moments from their human lives? Moments from the good place? Please tell me more about the time knife. Does Michael return to the good place when he dies? Does he reunite with Janet and/or Tahani?

4.      Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre Edward Rochester Adele Varens Ship: Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester

This is my favourite classic novel, I reread it every couple of years, most recently in 2020 for Yuletide. My reading of it changes each time, and I increasingly believe that Rochester is more bad guy than good guy and that Jane Eyre lies as a narrator and is as prejudiced and superior as those she crititcises for the same qualities. But I still love her, and that she says she got a happy ending.

Is Rochester more of a villain? How? How does Adele find school, either the one Rochester sends her to, or the one Jane moves her to? Post-canon happiness? Post-canon unhappiness? A scene from the engagement? A missing moment between the non-wedding and Jane running away? What if the wedding wasn't interrupted? (Full disclosure: I'm writing this too.) Canon divergence for, well, anything? Is Adele separated from Sophie? How does that go, how does she manage?

5.      Memoirs of a Geisha

Nitta Sayuri Mameha Nobu Toshikazu Ship: Nitta Sayuri/Nobu Toshikazu Ship: Mameha/Matsunaga Tsuneyoshi | The Baron

6.      North and South

Margaret Hale John Thornton Hannah Thornton Bessy Higgins Ship: Margaret Hale/John Thornton

7.      Stardew Valley

Female Player Sebastian Shane Harvey Robin Elliott Leah Marlon Ship: Shane/Female Player Ship: Sebastian/Female Player Ship: Lewis/Marnie

Do Sebastian and the farmer go on any more bike rides? How did Lewis and Marnie’s relationship start? Are they ever found out? Why does Lewis want to keep it secret? Why is he such an arsehole to Marnie? Tales of the purple shorts. Tell me more about Harvey’s nerdy hobbies or fear of heights? What happened with Robin and Sebastian’s dad? The horrors of the mines, or the skull cavern? Is Leah frightened by the things that go bump in the night near her home? Is Elliott? Some angst or h/c around a wounded farmer, being found/nursed? Or how about some angst/horror in which... they’re not? Fics about the war with the Gotoro Empire?

8.      Star Trek: Voyager

Kathryn Janeway Chakotay Tuvok Kes Seven of Nine Naomi Wildman

I’ve been a J/C shipper since before I knew shipping was a thing (as a kid, I had all the two-parters, S5&6, and Resolutions on video. Pre-internet, how did I even know which episode Resolutions one? Shippy magic instinct, I guess?) So apart from that ship, or canonical relationships, I would prefer genfic please. I also don’t mind the other Voyager characters so they’re welcome to make an appearance, but these are the ones that interest me.

9.      The West Wing

CJ Cregg Josh Lyman Sam Seaborn Abbey Bartlet Charlie Young Donna Moss Jed Bartlet Leo McGarry Toby Ziegler Zoey Bartlet

Happy writing!

Sobriquett

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Magical Loopholes

Chapter 59:  The Savior’s Magic

Usually, he hated to be wrong. Usually, he prided himself on being right, knowing precisely what to do, and taking safe risks based on the idea that he was right. Usually, he was right.

But now, he found himself terribly, horribly wrong for the first time in a long while. And he didn't hate it. But he couldn't be entirely happy about it either. Yes, Emma and Mary Margaret were back; no other bodies had come through that well. Somehow, someway, Cora had been left behind in their world, defeated probably by nothing but a bit of squid ink, and now Cora was no longer a threat to him or Belle. It would appear that everything had worked out for the better.

And yet…the guilt was immense. It was overwhelming. He'd nearly killed Emma and Mary Margaret for nothing. Normally something like that might not have bothered him. He was old; he had a body count so high he couldn't even begin to work out an accurate number. Some had been killed for good reasons, others not so good reasons, but this time…

This time he'd been a fool. A coward. Again.

The threat of Cora was enough to panic him, to make him see Emma as nothing but collateral, a stupid thing when he stopped to think about it. In the heat of the moment, he'd been willing to sacrifice her, to convince himself that he'd find a way around the prophecy and get to Bae with the help of someone else. In the cold chill of reality that followed…he knew better. It was Emma. It was always Emma. He'd have been willing to give up Baelfire to keep Cora gone? To keep from having to confront her again? He'd been willing to trade Belle's safety for a reunion with his own son…that was the one he kept circling back to time and time again. Belle or Bae, Belle or Bae. In her mind, there was never a choice. She wasn't asking him to choose between them, but in situations like this, when he so clearly took sides, it was hard to pretend there wasn't a choice. And now, Belle…

He was going to have to tell her. There was no way around it. Emma, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Henry…too many people had witnessed what he'd done for him to hide this. One way or another, Belle was going to find out what he'd done. This time it was more than a couple of lies. It was murder, attempted, admittedly, but he couldn't imagine her seeing a difference. He doubted she'd take this truth half as well as she had the last one.

The last truth had been another chance she'd given him that he didn't deserve. He didn't think she'd be able to forgive this one. He didn't think that she'd be able to live with it. He'd been prepared for that, of course, when he'd gone out there, but then he'd assumed that he'd be bringing Cora's dead body back, he'd have proof he was right, and even if she finally left him, he'd have the assurance that what he'd done would have protected her. Now he had nothing to show for it. Nothing except the hope that he could finish his potion and Emma would take him to Bae.

He sighed as he arrived back in his shop, noting the dwarves' presence still in the back. He'd forgotten about them. He'd forgotten that he'd assumed they were there to watch Henry after Ruby left, but in fact, it appeared they were there to keep watch over David when Ruby and Henry left.

The others weren't far behind him. It figured. He'd driven his car from where he parked it back to the shop, but with David still in the Sleeping Curse, he wasn't surprised to see damn near everyone slam into his shop, breathless and flushed from running a few minutes after him. Mary Margaret was the first, naturally. She slowed her gate down just long enough to catch his gaze behind the counter and for him to jerk his head in the direction of his backroom. By the time Ruby came in, she was already running again. The wolf glared at him, probably for throwing her across the woods, but took off after her friend. Emma and Henry trailed behind, and Regina…

Regina brought up the very rear. Walking slowly…pathetically. Unlike him, she had done the right thing today, a fact that pained him to admit. But he'd also seen the look on her face as Henry had screamed out "Mom" after she'd done it and then raced into Emma's arms. He was sure it stung. Probably just as much as the thought of how Belle would react when he told her what had happened.

"David!" he heard Mary Margaret cry out from the back as Regina disappeared. There was no answer, but a few seconds later-

A familiar pulse of magic moved through the shop, one he'd felt once before in his life. True Love's Kiss could break any curse, and if the gasps of amazement and wonder he heard in the back were any indication, it had just broken a Sleeping Curse. Again. He ignored the sounds of conversation, of sniffling and light laughter. He'd give them a few moments before he kicked them out of the back so he could get on with his life without the threat of Cora looming. Or maybe he wouldn't have to.

As he placed the fairy wand back into its place, someone emerged from the back room. For a moment, he dared to hope the others would follow, but it was just one person��just Emma. She walked right into the shop, her eyes narrowing and fixing on him in a way that twisted his insides up.

"We need to talk," Emma muttered quietly behind him.

"Yes," he breathed.

He'd had a head start, but he'd left everyone behind at the well. He was certain by now she'd know exactly what he didn't want Belle to know. She'd probably be furious with him by now. Hell, he was furious with himself. He didn't regret it. In fact, he had the feeling that if this little scenario ever played out again, he'd probably do the same stupid things he'd done this time. He'd probably play it the same way. And that was perhaps why he felt utterly guilty about the entire thing. Oh, he knew it was bad when someone like him felt something like that.

"I believe apologies are in order."

"No. No apologies necessary. I understand why you wanted to keep Cora out of here."

Well, now…wasn't that a shock. Almost as much of a shock as it had been watching her climb out of the well instead of Cora.

"Just remind me never to bet against you in the future, Miss Swan."

"It's not really a bet when the game is rigged, is it?"

The game? Rigged? We need to talk? What did she want to talk about?

"To what exactly are you referring?" he smiled knowingly, a trait that made those he was speaking to uncomfortable because it convinced them he knew more about what they were talking about than they did. He found the gesture incredibly helpful, especially when he really didn't know what was going on.

"Your scroll, I saw it in your cell."

Ah…they had found it. They must have managed to use the squid ink then. But why Emma was so taken with had him perplexed.

"You wrote my name again, and again, and again…" she muttered gently so that he could take in the shock in her eyes, the stillness of her features. It was the look of a woman who had just come face to face with something terrifying. Ordinarily, he would have assumed it was Cora. But given the circumstances and the person standing before him, he had a feeling it was something a little bit more than that. He'd forgotten the state of the ink in his cell. Well, perhaps "forgotten" wasn't correct. It simply hadn't dawned on him until that moment how she would find it, what he'd used it for. But it was probably a good thing. Looking at her now, he could tell that any seeds of doubt the girl had still harbored about herself, about her parents, about who and what she was…they'd just been crushed.

He offered her a shrug. "Just wanted to make sure it would stick."

"The ink," she pressed. "It was there all the time. You could've gotten out."

"I was exactly where I wanted to be. You needed to find that, so all this could occur."

"You created the curse, Gold. You made me the Savior. So everything I've ever done…it's exactly what you wanted me to do."

"I created the Curse, dearie, but I didn't make you," he scoffed. So, she hadn't quite figured all of it out yet. That was coming…in time. For now, he'd settle for this small realization from the woman he needed to bring him to his Baelfire. "I merely took advantage of what you are – the product of true love."

Emma's gaze turned back to the curtain, back to where her parents had just broken another Sleeping Curse with nothing more than a kiss. It was finally sinking in.

"That's why you're powerful. And everything you've done, you've done yourself."

"So, you don't know?" she muttered, glancing back at him with confusion and, perhaps, a bit of hope.

"Know what?" he questioned carefully, giving a non-committal tone.

Emma took careful steps toward him and raised her hand to her heart, looking suddenly as pale as her mother naturally was. Something had scared her.

"Cora…" she breathed, "tried to rip my heart out, but she couldn't. She was blasted back by something inside me. By…by…"

Emma struggled, searching for an explanation, for something else to explain what he suspected she already knew to be true but wished wasn't.

"By magic," he finished for her.

His smile grew, and he fought back the urge to laugh at what he'd always known but never truly seen evidence of until now. Emma Swan had magical abilities. All Saviors had the capacity for it, children of True Love even more so. The only reason she hadn't show any propensity for it now was that she'd never been in a world with magic, a place where the ability could be revealed. But magic, first and foremost, was an instinct. He couldn't tell what spell she'd unintentionally cast to "blast back" Cora. But he knew it was her magic that was finally revealing itself, coming to life. Her magic was rearing its head, and he knew from the look on her terrified face that she considered that head very, very ugly indeed. Pity.

"Whatever that was, I didn't do that. You did."

Emma swallowed hard, and he could see a slight tremble in her features as she glanced over to the curtain her family lay behind. For the first time since he'd known her, he wondered if she was about to burst into tears. It was as if he'd just told her she had cancer and only days to live instead of magic with infinite possibilities. He tried to remember what it was like for him in those early days, in those first minutes and hours when he'd realized he had great power. He supposed it could be overwhelming and terrifying…at least without the right guide.

"Worry not, Miss. Swan. When you're ready, I'm sure a suitable teacher can be found to guide you through your new abilities." He tried not to give her a salesman's smile, but it was difficult not to, given the fact that he wanted to be the one to train her when that time came. He wanted to be the one to assess her powers as he had Regina and Zelena, to know how they ticked and what lay just beyond the surface. A Savior with magic. That was something that had endless possibilities before she likely died the death all Saviors did.

But Emma didn't give him a hint about catching on to that small offer. She simply began to move, slowly, on shaking legs, away from him and back into the room everyone had disappeared into.

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xv

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xv: down the rabbit hole

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~10.6k ( i think? sorry? )

Rating: M for mature. You know; Far Cry 5.

Warnings: canon typical violence, some forced drug use (Bliss) that results in some PEAK emotional manipulation, a friendly reminder that this is not a love story about people in a healthy relationship but just a love story, sort of. Also I love tropes and no one can stop me.

Notes: HM not much to say about this chapter except that I had a ball writing it and I hope that comes through when you're reading it as well!! It's a joy to finally move some plot pieces a long and also explore some different narratives--especially Faith's, who I had been nervous about writing but made myself do it anyway.

I really hope you enjoy it! @starcrier​ blessed me with her input (per usual; she's an angel, what can I say) and of course I want to thank @lilwritingraven for helping me with the pacing of this chapter, as well as @baeogorath​ for letting me send them memes at like 3am and talk abt how Cora and Elliot are going to end up in a domestic partnership with many dog children.

She’s in a bar. 

She’s in a bar, and she’s twenty-two, and Joey is off to go get a drink and she doesn’t think she likes the one she has very much.

She’s in a bar, and she’s twenty-two, and John Seed locks eyes with her from across the bar and it feels like her entire body is getting eaten up by flame. She’s never had a man look at her like he looks at her—starved, like he could never get his fill of her, prowling through the crowd of bodies milling about in the bar to beeline straight for her.

Wanted. He wants her—and it twists in her stomach, writhing, white-hot and intoxicating and the second he closes in he says, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I know,” she says, feeling his hands on either side of her neck, cradling. Her lashes flutter and the oxygen is so thin, like they’re somewhere very high, but they aren’t; they’re just there , together, the wildfire of him greedily devouring the kindling of her bones.

This is the part where Joey is supposed to come in. A part of her knows this: that any minute now, she will get pulled away, that even as John leans down to kiss her, the dream will evaporate and she will be left remembering that moment that she missed so many years ago.

But the dream doesn’t end. John’s lips brush hers; his fingers wind through her hair; John, she says, because nothing in her is not for him, just the kind of girl that he likes—the kind that’s hurting, and that hurts others.

“Just like me,” John says against her mouth. He disentangles his hands from her hair and reaches for her own, bringing them for her to see.

They are drenched in blood. Sticky, wet, crimson. A small, tiny part of her brain says, we can’t know for sure whose, but she knows.

Joey.

“See?” John says, his fingers biting into her palms, his teeth catching her lip. “Just like me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot’s eyes fluttered open. At first, she felt her body brace for some kind of impact—she had woken up in an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar sounds of voices outside, and someone’s breath fanning her neck. She shifted, forcing her eyes open despite the strange panic crawling up her throat, and peeked over her shoulder.

It was John. She thought, Oh. And then: Hm.

Not the kind of dread she had been anticipating. It was different than fearing a monster; it was the kind of dread that came with being known down in the most vulnerable parts of you, the kind that she’d felt after she’d stood up from laying everything out in front of Joseph. She’d felt sick, then, and slimy; every detail of every memory about that night years ago before moving back to Hope County had made her skin burn .

And then there had been John. Hands gripping, mouth hungry, but it was always: Anything you want, El. He’d done everything exactly the way she’d wanted it. John wasn’t the first man she had been with since her time in the city, but he was the first to—well, mean something, and wasn’t that a dreadful thought?

Pressing her face back to the pillow, the unfamiliar weight of his arm around her tightened when she shifted away.

“Stop squirming,” John rumbled. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“This is a twin bed, fucker,” Elliot replied, ignoring the unease that was beginning to knot in her stomach. She didn’t know why it was there, inside of her, until she realized she was—happy? “It wasn’t meant to hold both of us.” And then, bitterly: “ Fuck, you’re hot.”

She kicked her leg out from under the sheets, exhaling sharply as the complaint left her mouth. It was too late to choose better wording; she could feel John’s self-pleased aura radiating off of him almost instantly as he buried his face into her neck.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, as his fingers skimmed beneath the sheet to trace the lines of her scars. She knew that it infuriated him that she hadn’t told him what they were from—but at least like this, he wasn’t interrogating her, contenting himself with feeling them rather than knowing them. She squirmed and grimaced.

“I mean like a space heater,” she grumbled. Tucking her arm up under the pillow, she added, “I don’t remember saying you could sleep here.”

John grinned against the back of her neck. “Are you kicking me out?”

A long, tired sigh slipped out of her, muffled by the pillow. Every part of her ached in a pleasant way, and John’s warmth pressed up behind her as they lay crammed on the bed in the bunkhouse was a grounding one; the kind that might let her sleep a little more. The darkness in the room meant that she hadn’t dozed off for very long, and even now her eyes felt heavy.

She knew that she’d barely gotten the amount of sleep that she needed since Joey’s death, let alone wanted . Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the gore and grit of it; it sat just behind her eyelids, waiting for her to try and get some rest and move forward to assault her with the memory of Joey’s gruesome murder.

The broken jaw, the gutted chest cavity. The flowers, packed so tight and full she could have rested her cheek on it and been held like a pillow. 

And John’s arms, circling her: Don’t look, El. 

“You can stay,” Elliot said after a moment, keeping her eyes fixed on the wall. “This one time.”

“You’re in an agreeable mood.” John paused, nosing past the hair gathering in the crook of her neck. “You want to tell me how your confession went now? Must’ve been pretty good, considering what you let me—”

She groaned. “I changed my mind. Get out.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, I just—”

“You are so fucking annoying,” she said, rolling over in the bed to look at him. With that grin slapped on his face and his hair tousled out of its normally meticulous slick-back, he looked boyish and young, not like a cultist maniac; it was probably the most frustrating thing about him, that he could look this way. That he could have moments of sincerity, but that he never seemed to fall into the realm of “good”, because every time she felt herself relaxing around him he did something to remind her why it was a bad idea . “I’m not going to talk to you about my confession.”

“Well,” John said petulantly, “why not ?”

Her fingers traced the Sloth scar just under his collarbone. He had a myriad of them—tattoos, too—and while she hadn’t quite gotten them all memorized, it was nice to let the buzzing of her brain focus on parsing them out instead of everything else.

The problem was that Elliot didn’t know how to tell him the truth of it; that she had only told Joseph those things about who she had been and who she was now because she knew that he wanted her to, just like she knew John wanted her to let him kiss her, and just like she knew Jacob wanted her to give him a reason to push her to her limits and really test her. She couldn’t tell John that, because even though it was true , it also didn’t change the fact that he complicated things for her more than she should have let him—like everything, John was an outlying variable which Elliot had no way to brace for.

“It’s not good pillow talk,” she said after a minute, skimming her fingers along the jut of his collarbone. “And I don’t want to talk about it, and that should be enough.” And then, decisively, when John opened his mouth, she said, “It is enough.”

John closed his mouth pointedly, and then said, “You certainly know how to ruin a good time.”

“Goodnight, John.”

She rolled back onto her other side and waited for the departure of his warmth. It didn’t go anywhere—instead, John buckled down, keeping his arm wrapped snug around her abdomen as his mouth traced the slope of her shoulder.

“You’ll tell me,” he said after a moment, his voice a pleasant rumble, “eventually.”

We’ll fucking see about that, she thought, closing her eyes with a muted sigh.

“ Goodnight, John.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You’re late.”

Jacob sounded fully unimpressed, arms crossed over his chest as John stepped into the chapel. It was to be expected, he supposed; after all, they were supposed to have been convening about ten minutes ago, but sleeping in the bunkhouse meant his alarm hadn’t gone off, and—

And, even if it had, he wasn’t sure that he’d have rushed out of bed anyway.

“Sorry,” John said, not feeling nor sounding very sorry at all, he was sure. Joseph was seated patiently by the table, the radio set to the side as it casually flicked through channels on a timer, meant to scan and make sure they weren’t missing out on any chatter. He glanced at John as he came in, his eyes inquisitive, but remained silent.

And then Jacob announced, “Your shirt’s all fucked up.”

“Didn’t have time to change,” John replied. He wanted to say it—he really did—but he mostly wanted Jacob to ask. “I came right over as soon as I woke up. What do we have on the Family?”

“Hey? John?” Jacob leaned down against the table, palms flat on the surface, fixing him with those steely eyes. “What the fuck?”

Faith stifled a laugh, her eyes glimmering wide and doe-like on her face. “You aren’t going to tell us what happened to your shirt?” she asked.

“I feel like this is detracting from the purpose of the meeting,” John answered, trying his very best to feign innocence and focus in the face of the attention, which—after all of Jacob’s moaning and groaning about his incompetency with the deputy, he was enjoying immensely.

Jacob pushed the collar of John’s bedraggled shirt aside with one brisk movement. “Are those nail marks?”

“Oh, John,” Faith sighed.

“Well, I don’t want to brag,” he said, brushing Jacob’s hand off of him, “and I won’t, because there’s no reason to. I’m just doing my—you know, my job.”

“So,” Joseph said, finally, “the deputy is...?”

His older brother arched a brow loftily at him, watching him from across the table. He didn’t seem to be enjoying John’s little show quite as much as his other siblings—in fact, Jacob seemed the most pleased, that wicked grin splitting across his face as soon as John said, “I think you could consider her converted. ”

“Little John finally got around to it, huh?” the red-head said, sounding quite amused.

Joseph waited. “Is that so?”

“She confessed to you,” John explained, “and then—well.” He glanced at Faith for a moment. “ Confessed to me. And actually, you know, Joseph, I was thinking about that little problem we were discussing a few days ago.”

He leaned in against the table, pleased to have their rapt attention—most of all, Joseph’s; his brother’s gaze was fixed on him expectantly, waiting patiently for the elaboration that he hoped was coming.

“Problem?” Jacob prompted. “You mean Burke?”

“I mean the whole thing,” John replied. “Burke, whether he got out or not, what’s going to happen once we get rid of the Family if someone tries to come down on us. Joseph’s right when he says there’s ways to make people not talk. Who knows if the Resistance members got out? And even if they did, who’s to say they won’t leave this place behind them forever and never look back?”

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay?”

“Okay, so ,” he continued, and then paused and said, “bear with me—”

“John.”

“What if—Elliot and I got married?” he finished. All three sets of eyes blinked at him for a moment, and then he said, “ If this goes to court, and if we have witnesses pulled up against us, Elliot can opt out of testifying against me if she’s married to me. Only a complete moron would put her up on the stand after hearing that she’s a Seed, and—”

“Stupid,” Jacob interrupted. “Bad plan. If she does get put up on the stand against one of us , what is she going to say, John?”

“She likes Joseph,” he ventured. “Sort of. Right? The confession went well, you said.”

“And me,” Faith offered. “I’m probably her favorite.”

“That’s very true,” Joseph conceded.

John plunged on, “She has a good reputation. She grew up here, went to school here, knows all of the locals, worked on law enforcement—”

“And she’s fucking nuts,” Jacob deadpanned. “They’re going to take one look at her body count and put her in a psych ward. I don’t care if you want to have a bride, John, but don’t pretend that it’s for us and not for you. We all know the second you put your eyes on her—”

“Well, it was really fucking stupid of us to let Burke get out!” John snapped. “It doesn’t look good , you know? The prospects? Not to be a big bummer, but I’m trying to make a win out of a losing hand!”

Joseph lifted his hand to signal that an end to the discourse had come. He settled back against his chair for a moment, pensive, eyes fixed on the Eden’s Gate symbol carved into the front of the chapel; it felt a little like agony to sit and wait for him to break the silence, and John could sense the unease prickling in his stomach.

“The deputy has confided in me the extent of her past,” he began at last, “which matches up with everything we dug up on her before, when she came back.” He sighed thoughtfully. “She was truthful, and willing, and so vulnerable. It really was remarkable—and with all that time she spent fighting us. You should have seen her, John.”

I know, John thought when the spiteful venom shot straight through him, taking away some of the victory that had rooted itself there in his chest. I know, I know, that should have been fucking mine.

“She confessed to me, and then…” His eyes landed on John. Delicately, he continued, “... willingly indulged you.”

“I’ll say,” Jacob muttered.

“It seems that our deputy is turning a new leaf, after all.” Joseph’s gaze flickered absently down to the table, and he asked, “So. She’s agreed to it? This idea of yours?”

No, John thought, with no absence of affection and frustration in equal amounts. If he was being honest, he thought that she wouldn’t have agreed to it even if every bad thing they had ever done to her was erased; that was just the kind of woman that Elliot was. All the more reason to want her. All the more reason to make the taming sweeter.

And if tying Elliot to him legally, by name, didn’t get them out of this mess, it would at least ensure that she stayed in it. 

With him.

After a moment, he ventured, “It could require a little extra persuasion.”

“Hol-ee shit,” Jacob said. “You came with a half-baked idea that you haven’t even gotten confirmation on? John? John?”

Feeling another bout of bickering come on, Faith let out a little exhale of breath and came to a stand, smoothing her hands along the skirt of her dress. Both Jacob and John stopped their oncoming fight to look at her—almost as effective at garnering attention as Joseph, his little snake.

“I’ll talk to her,” Faith said. “It shouldn’t come from you. You’ll just piss her off.”

John narrowed his eyes. “It takes a rapport, Faith, and you’ve barely spent any time with her.”

“It’s not about the amount of time, it’s about the quality of the time,” she snipped. “Fifteen minutes with her and she was willingly offering up information about her childhood to me.”

“Okay,” John replied tartly, “and?”

“When I was kidnapped by the Family, they kept referring to their— substance as ‘opening them to the influence’,” the blonde said primly. “And when I heard that, I thought, what a good idea! It’s easy to overwhelm the body with Bliss, you know. Send someone on a nice trip. But if you just give them a little bit at a time? Over a longer time? Sort of like what Jacob does.”

“We’re not letting Jacob do his brainwashing on her,” he bit out.

“No, John , we’re not,” Faith sighed. “I just mean—give her enough where she doesn’t realize what’s happening. It just makes her…” She searched for a moment, and then smiled brightly. “Soft.”

Oh, he thought, I do like it when she’s soft.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Joseph said, before he gathered up the threads of his thoughts from images of Elliot soft , burying her face into his neck and sighing prettily. “And if she’s more open to your influence because of it, John, then what’s to lose anyway?”

“Well, since we’re all settled on this fucking insane idea,” Jacob said, spreading the map back out on the table, “Faith will take care of that while I educate everyone on what’s going on with our Family, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When she woke up, John was gone, and with him the satisfying warmth that had lulled her back to sleep. In his absence, Boomer had curled up on the floor next to her bed; John must have let him in on his way out.

“Hey, buddy,” Elliot murmured, reaching down and ruffling his dark fur affectionately. He made a low, whining groan, blinking big brown eyes up at her. “You’re ready to be done, huh?”

Boomer rolled onto his back, stretching his legs luxuriously as she patted his stomach. She was pleased to find that John had left almost no trace of himself—no articles of clothing, no sticky note left on the bedside table. It was as if he hadn’t ever been there.

Well, almost, anyway. She slid out of bed and grabbed some clean clothes from her bag, making her way to the bathroom to start the shower. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she almost started; there were marks blooming on her neck, her collarbone, her hips. Her lips were kiss-reddened, her hair disheveled. She thought for a second that she’d never looked more like a stranger and also felt like herself in a very long time—though perhaps that had to do with having a clear path out of Hope County. As close to clear as she could get.

About ten minutes into the shower and she heard the door to the bunkhouse open; Boomer barked once, and Elliot stuck her head out of the shower to say, “John, I really only just got into the shower—”

“It’s me.” It was Faith’s voice. Softer, sweeter, more welcome even all things considered. Elliot hadn’t forgotten the way that Faith had stuck around to try and comfort her, even if she knew she’d been told to do it, and even if she knew that Faith had to have been doing it for something. The only person who had ever done that because they cared for her was dead, now.

“Oh.” Elliot paused, clearing her throat. “Um—I’m sorry, I thought—” Fuck fuck fuck.

“I can wait,” Faith continued, closer to the bathroom door now. “I was just going to see if you would go on a walk with me. We’re not allowed to leave the compound alone anymore.”

Faith’s voice sounded small, filled with a kind of longing that Elliot recognized in places of herself, too—the kind of longing that she’d felt before she’d met Joey: to be around someone, anyone . She swallowed thickly. 

This wasn’t on her agenda for the day. She was supposed to be grabbing a map, trying to get to the radio without getting seen, figuring out where they kept all of their guns. She’d gathered what ammo and weapons she could at Fall’s End, but it had been slim pickings.

“I’ll hurry,” Elliot said after a moment, and she meant it. She sprinted through the rest of her shower; somehow, the idea of keeping Faith waiting was more tragic than leaving any of the other Seeds waiting, and maybe it was because Faith wasn’t even a real Seed at all and somewhere along the way had gotten snared in their trap.

She had to be safe. She had to be careful. And that meant not trusting a Seed—even an honorary one. Especially an honorary one.

Once she had dressed, she stepped out into the main room of the bunkhouse to find Faith waiting patiently. Unlike John, she didn’t regard Boomer with a look of wary disdain (though it had been a while since he’d done that), but rather with a little smile planted on her face; the Heeler’s hair was up, and he made a low warning noise that rumbled right out of his chest, but he laid flat on the floor and looked instantly to Elliot for a cue on whether their new guest was dangerous or not. She waved her hand at him.

“Sorry about that,” Elliot said before she could stop herself—there was no reason for her to apologize for Boomer being wary of her, considering all of the variables, but Faith’s sweet face gazing wide-eyed and trusting at her was enough to dig right in the grit of her in a way that John or Joseph couldn’t have ever. 

“It’s okay,” Faith replied amusedly. “I know John locked him up in a cage.”

“Yeah,” she said dryly, shifting on her feet. She was glad she’d packed mostly sweaters, a few high-necked, to help conceal the remaining bruising. With a gesture for Faith to head out of the bunkhouse, Elliot followed her out into the late morning—but not before she grabbed a handgun out from under the bed, flicked the safety on, and tucked it under her sweater and into the back of her jeans.

Outside, the sun had receded behind a thin veil of gray clouds, and in the distance thicker ones started to roll in. Angry, boisterous kinds of clouds. She hoped it was going to storm again; she loved an Autumn storm, but she had the feeling that it would only be a nuisance in the end.

“I can’t believe how gloomy it is,” Faith murmured, pouting. Without any ceremony, she took Elliot’s hand in hers, interlacing their fingers like they had been friends forever; a sweet perfume scent wafted off of her, and it smelled familiar , but Elliot couldn’t figure out what it was. Boomer sprinted on ahead of them, doubling back every once in a while as he got his stretch in, and the girl continued, “Jacob says it might even snow. ”

Elliot grimaced at the mention of Jacob but trailed obediently next to Faith. It was so much harder to maintain the anger, even knowing that she had been just as complicit. Faith was just so—

“It’s snowed as early as August here, once,” she offered, dragging her mind away from what it was that bothered her the most: that Joseph, Jacob, and John were all somewhere, convening, likely about her. Likely about things that she needed to know. “What are your brothers doing?”

“Talking about boring stuff,” Faith replied with a little laugh as they walked out from the gate of the compound. And then, with a sly little look on her face, she said, “Talking about you, too.”

A little lurch caught in her stomach. “What about?” she asked faintly, and Faith shrugged.

“John’s upset he doesn’t know what you talked to Joseph about.” As they broke away from the dirt path and went instead closer to the forest, Boomer ducking and darting as he chased a mouse, Faith gave Elliot’s hand a little squeeze. “He really likes you, deputy.”

“You can call me Elliot,” she clarified. The title felt wrong, now that Joey was gone. Now that Whitehorse was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t really even a deputy anymore. “And did he tell you that? He’s got a funny way of saying things.”

“I can just tell. John’s my brother, and he’s bad at hiding his feelings.”

Elliot smothered a laugh before it could come out of her. “I suppose he is.”

They walked like that for a few moments; Faith, remarking often about something that caught her eye, Elliot offering whatever information she could about the flora and fauna, and on one occasion Boomer sat still enough to let Faith brush her fingers over his ears. It was a strange, suspended sort of moment in time, Elliot thought. Like they had entered a bubble entirely their own, perfumed by Faith’s floral-sweet perfume, the freedom of walking outside of the compound, and the gentleness that Faith carried with her.

She was so remarkably unlike any of her siblings that it was almost possible to forget she had ever been one at all. That at one point, she had held Joey captive at John’s behest, in a way to wrench on the softest parts of her.

“I’m very sorry,” she murmured after a moment, garnering Elliot’s attention. “About Miss Hudson. You know, they kept us together. The Family. She was…”

Oh, Elliot thought, as the faint wash of grief slipped up in her, trying to climb up her walls. Oh, please don’t say something lovely. I just can’t stand it.

“So kind,” Faith murmured at last, “to me. Even after everything. When I was crying, and scared, and thought no one was going to come for me, she held me. She always said that you were going to come, no matter what.”

The words rinsed her with a different kind of sorrow, then. Not even really for herself, anymore, but that Faith had known Joey’s kindness, and now she would be without it.

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Faith continued after a moment, stopping their walk as they had looped back around and now the chapel was coming within sight. A swoon rattled around in her head again as a waft of Faith's perfume smothered her. “You know? Brothers are nice, but—”

Elliot felt a pleasant, dreamy buzzing in her head, and she thought it might have been from the words because— because, and that was all her brain could think to supply as the thoughts flickered around in her head. Because Faith wrapped her arms around Elliot’s midsection and hugged her, head tucked just under her chin, because the young woman felt so tiny and small and frail in her arms, because there was nothing about what she said that came with the same boxed, off-brand sincerity that the rest of her brothers used.

“I’m so happy you came, Elliot,” she murmured, her voice floating up to her muffled by the fabric of her sweater. She was holding so tight that Elliot could feel the rabbit-like fluttering of her own heartbeat in comparison to the slow, luxurious tempo of Faith’s. “I’ve felt really alone out here.”

When she tried to lift her arms, cautiously, it felt like she was moving under water; she rested her hands on the blonde’s shoulders. “Faith,” she started, “if you—if you’re—unhappy—”

I can get you out too, she thought, a little desperately. I can get you out. I couldn’t do it for Joey, but for you, I could.

“What do you mean?” The young woman smiled up at her, and their noses brushed, and that scent washed over her again. What was it from? She couldn’t quite muddle through her brain to catch it and pin it down. “I’m so happy. Now that you’re here.”

“M-Me too,” Elliot managed out. She thought, vaguely, that something must be wrong; before she could trouble herself with it anymore, Faith reached up and kissed her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth, chastely. A burst of floral raced through her mouth, humming between her molars.

“Are you?” Faith asked her as the world wobbled a bit around her. “Happy, Elliot?”

Was she? When she reached around inside of her, dug around deep, she had anticipated to find that sharp little jumble of glass inside of her, all of the anger and the hurt that had been wadded up and sat right locked away in her jaw: but it was nowhere to be found, then. In that moment, all she felt was a gorgeous swoon of delight race straight through her at the idea that she could still be happy.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, feeling a little smile tugging at her lips. “I am.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So,” John said casually, “are you going to tell me what Elliot said to you?”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” Jacob muttered.

“John, you know that I can’t.” Joseph’s voice was mild, and patient, as he gathered his things from the table and came to a stand. “She confessed to me in absolute confidence. I could never violate that.”

“It’s important,” John replied, shooting Jacob a look when he scoffed, “to make sure that I have as much information as I can.”

As they walked toward the chapel’s doors that led out into the main yard, Joseph rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, rooting him to his spot for a moment. It was just a tiny gesture, but that alone was enough to make John hesitate, glancing over at his older brother.

“Everything that you need to know about our deputy,” Joseph said, “you do. The only advice I can offer you is that she’s already told you what she wants, more than anything.”

“Don’t,” John sighed, “ please don’t be cryptic with me. I don’t know—”

“You do,” his brother cautioned. “You do know, John. She’s just a woman, you know. She wants what anyone wants.” He gestured for him to move forward, and he did, albeit reluctantly, and Joseph opened the door to the outside. “A place to belong. A person to belong to, or a person to belong to them.” He paused. “A home.”

“John!”

As he stepped out of the chapel, Faith’s voice dragged his gaze to the small little space between the chapel and the building next to it. His sister waved at him with one hand while the other clasped Elliot’s tugging her along.

“We wondered how long you guys were going to be,” she said, beaming at him as they neared, Jacob and Joseph trailing after him out of the chapel. Joseph got as far as the doorway, leaning against it comfortably. Elliot’s face was flushed prettily, and yes, he could see it—the ever-so-gentle dilation of her pupils, a strange dragging smoothness to her movements, like each lift of her arm or flicker of her eyes was being done in a syrupy pool of molasses.

“It wasn’t too long, was it?” he prompted amusedly. “Only an hour and a half, I think.”

“Boring,” Faith insisted. “Elliot and I had so much fun. She knows so much about the plants around here, did you know?”

The sentence almost made John laugh. Faith knew just about as much as anyone could be around the plants in the area; he knew that she was capable of this kind of sweet manipulation, but to see it in action, to see the way that Elliot’s nose crinkled at the compliment, was different.

“Not,” Elliot managed out modestly, “that much.”

Joseph said something to beckon Faith; John couldn’t hear it, or if he did, the sound didn’t filter into his mental archives, because Elliot was gazing at him with something other than venom, and when their eyes met she waited a heartbeat too long to look away.

“I think I’m— gonna go lay down,” she said after a moment. “Thanks for talking with me, Faith.”

“I told you,” Faith replied sweetly from the doorway of the chapel, “I’m so happy you’re here.” And she swiped her thumb along her lower lip, like the dredges of a sweet-drink she didn’t want to forget, and John felt like he’d missed something important.

As Jacob brushed past him with one last meaningful look over his shoulder, John cleared his throat and asked, “Are you feeling alright?” just as Elliot caught herself from swaying on her feet.

“Me?” she repeated, and as she took a step forward it seemed to hit her really hard then, her hand flying out to stabilize herself with his shoulder. “I’m good. I’m pretty good, you know?”

“I don’t,” John replied. He reached up, brushing the hair from her face, and for a moment her eyes fluttered and she sighed. “Tell me.”

“Got food.”

“Mhm.”

“Got sleep.”

“Right.” John nudged her forward, walking her towards the bunkhouse.

“Got—” She paused, almost like she felt suddenly shy, opening the door and stepping inside. She looked at him over her shoulder, a little smile tugging at her lips. “ You. Don’t I, John?”

He thought very suddenly that he had been a fool to doubt Faith’s capabilities. A fool, certainly, and an even greater one to not have taken advantage of this sooner. Of course dunking her in a river bleeding Bliss had made her feel like shit. It was meant to disorient her. But this Elliot? Gently, sweetly catered into a bliss-buzzed reality?

“Yes,” he replied as her arms slipped around his neck. “You do.”

“Smell good.” Elliot nuzzled her face into his neck. She smelled like Bliss extract—like she’d taken a bath in it—and when she leaned up and kissed him leisurely, unhurriedly, she tasted like it too. It vibrated in his mouth, sharp and glittering and racing straight down his spine. “You left too many marks on me. It’s hard to cover up.”

“I’m sorry,” John said, even though he wasn’t sorry at all.

“You’re not.” She grinned against his mouth. “But you will be.”

The words sent an excited little thrill through him, anticipation prickling along the back of his neck. But he needed to stay focused; he needed to remember why Faith had done this for them in the first place. Not to get Elliot relaxed enough to actually enjoy herself, but to secure at least one aspect of their future that they could get their hands on.

He said, half-cocked grin on his face, “Is that so?” while Elliot nudged him to one of the chairs settled snug and comfortable in the corner of the bunkhouse. The table had been littered with her own belongings that she’d fetched from Fall’s End — her bag of clothes and things from the house, the two crates worth of supplies she’d hauled from the Spread Eagle. As soon as he was sitting in the chair obediently, she settled in his lap.

“Hey, El,” John said against her mouth, “what if we did something?”

“Kissing is something,” Elliot replied pleasantly.

“I mean,” he tried again, skimming his hands up underneath her sweater and down her back, “what if—we got—what the fuck is this?”

His hands hit lukewarm metal. He gripped it tentatively, feeling familiar ridges and lines, and pulled it out from where it had been tucked beneath the top lip of her jeans. 

It was a gun.  

In hindsight, John realized that it would have been stupid to think that she hadn’t grabbed weapons while they were in Fall’s End—she obviously didn’t think they’d give her any, and she was probably more right about it—but the absurdity of actually catching her with one on her was almost too much, in juxtaposition to the innocent way she was regarding him.

“A gun,” she said.

“I can see that,” John replied amusedly, making sure the safety was switched on before he set the gun on the table. “Care to elaborate?”

Elliot shrugged. The black of her pupils slowly ate away at the blue of her irises, until he thought that there could only be a sliver of them left now. “Not really.” And then she kissed him again, instantly pulling his mind away from the task at hand as well as the careful procurement of her firearm.

“You wanted to be—armed, walking around with my sister?” John rumbled against her mouth.

“Not getting caught unarmed,” Elliot replied. “Not again.” And she threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him, sighing into the liplock prettily and reminding him, again, why he was actually here.

John waited until he could feel the flutter of her pulse under his fingers before he said, “What if we got married?”

Elliot laughed. “Don’t be stupid,” she murmured, while his fingers traced the bruise he’d left the night before. 

“I’m not.” He kissed her again, distracting her for a moment. “What if we did?”

The blonde stilled and pulled back, regarding him with a gaze that was both unimpressed and confused. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t say anything, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. But John had been prepared for this question, because he knew it would come inevitably, and he leaned forward and tugged her down to kiss her again; her movements were more tentative now, as though she were trying to brace herself against him.

“I don’t want,” John said against her kiss, “you to be alone anymore.”

“Um,” said Elliot, sounding faint.

“And when this is all done with,” he continued quickly, “all of this stuff with—with the cult, you and I can get out of here.”

She stared at him. He could almost hear the sluggish churning of her mental gears, grinding and lurching against each other. In the time that he’d known Elliot, he’d come to understand that there were two things that she cared about: getting her friend, and getting out. And it was easy to promise both; by the time they got to the end of the line, it was time to make a decision about staying or leaving, Elliot would be so won over by him that she’d choose to stay.

What does anyone want?

“But what about…” She swallowed thickly and gestured with her hand. “What about—like—all the others—”

A person to belong to them.

“I want to be with you,” John said, low and easy. “I want to be yours, El.”

Her lashes fluttered uneasily. “John—”

“I want a home.” He studied her face. “With you.”

Come on, he thought as she worked the words through her Bliss-muddled brain. Come on, hellcat, come on, I know you want to.

“If you—I bet if you agree to testify,” she started, “then Burke could—”

“Cutting a deal only works if you can choose not to testify against me,” John told her. “You know that, El.”

She didn’t; she was only a small town deputy, but it didn’t matter. She nodded like she did. She was a small town deputy with nothing and no-one left, and now he was offering her what he thought she wanted the most: something. Someone.

“You said there was a John that you wanted,” he continued. He kissed her, his hand cradling the back of her head, and he felt her fingers fist the front of his shirt like she was afraid of disappearing. “I’m here.”

Voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Okay.”

John nosed past her hair, kissing the slope of her jawbone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Elliot repeated. “I’m—yeah, I want—I want you to be… If you’ll go, when this is done—if you’ll cut a deal with Burke, and—”

A moment passed where she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say exactly what she meant. So he waited, and let her muddle through it, mouth twisting for a moment. A person to belong to, Joseph had said; he felt the absent fluttering of her pulse under his mouth. A person to belong to them.

“Then I want you,” she managed hazily, “to be mine.”

Mine. The word echoed pleasantly, over and over again, in his own voice. Mine. All mine.

“Of course,” John murmured against her skin, “all yours.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Evening came, and with it, a plethora of new problems: chief among them, sober Elliot.

That is to say, though John had hurried from the bunkhouse and fetched the marriage certificate Joseph had figured up for him, and though he had made it back in time for Elliot to dimly sign it, she was nearly asleep. Which left the question up in the air as to whether or not Elliot would even remember their conversation, or if it would feel like a strange dream to her, and if it did, what was he going to do? Tell her?

By the time she’d slept off her happy little trip, John had filed the certificate away for safe-keeping, and she'd come barging into the chapel.

“Hey,” he greeted her, noting the sharpness of her eyes, the way she cocked her head and rolled her shoulders. “Get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” Elliot replied, her voice coming out a little hoarse from the sleep. “What happened? I was so tired, I can barely remember leaving Faith.”

Jacob looked at John pointedly, his brain rapidly scrambling for a foothold. Now, in the face of Elliot-not-under-the-influence, he had the distinct feeling that his assumption she would not be pleased at the idea of being a Seed felt truer than ever.

He should tell her. He should. He should tell her what they’d agreed to, that she’d signed a marriage certificate to be “witnessed” by Joseph and Jacob and Faith, that she’d said she wanted him to be hers. If he trusted her, he would.

“Nothing,” John said lightly. “You came back from your walk with Faith, said you were tired and wanted to go lay down. You look pretty flushed, though.” He feigned concern, reaching up to touch her forehead. “Are you running a fever again?”

Elliot jerked back, startled by the gesture, as though the display of affection in front of Jacob was a shock to her. Trying to look as though she hadn’t just acted like a cornered animal, she said, “I’m—no, I feel fine otherwise.”

“Okay,” he replied. “Well—”

“Faith said you guys were having a meeting earlier,” the blonde continued. “About what to do with the Family. I need to be in on those meetings.”

Jacob scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“ I’m going to kill Kian,” she asserted firmly. “So I need to know what he’s up to.”

The two of them exchanged a glance for a moment. John said, “Elliot, are you sure you don’t—”

“Positive.”

“Well, sit down,” Jacob snapped. “Not gonna wait all fucking day for you.”

Relief immediately crossed her face. It was so potent in that moment that she didn’t even seem to have the heart to bite out a retort—Jacob’s venom meant nothing to her, not if she was getting what she wanted. Elliot sat herself down at the table and leaned over the map, stifling a yawn.

Jacob covered all of the information that he already had with John and Joseph in their own, which was just fine; John didn’t need to hear about how they’d dug up Ase Carnell, daughter of a Swedish hedge fund king who’d inherited her daddy’s billions upon his departure from his mortal coil. He didn’t need to hear about that, because instead , he could think about the way Elliot had said, I want you to be mine. How sweet she would be when she’d settled into being his wife, too; how delicious she would sound saying, come here, husband.

He was halfway through a daydream when Elliot broke him out of his thoughts. “Did we find out anything about them?” she asked.

“ We ,” Jacob said, pointing at himself alone, “found out that they’re no longer holed up at the camp, but they’re on the move. Like they’re heading out of town. Somehow, these people are well-funded, well-equipped, and they have nothing but time on their hands.”

“Ase told us that the end of the world was coming,” John clarified, “and that it was their job to help usher it in.”

“Well.” Jacob grimaced. “We can’t let them get out. We should choke them here on their way out of Hope County.”

“Do you think Kian’s there still?” Elliot asked. “After what he did to Joey, I—I have to think he’s really pissed off.”

“There weren’t any stragglers,” Jacob replied, “the camp was completely empty, and we haven’t seen anyone out on their own.”

“Then I’ll go cut them off.”

Jacob barked out a laugh, and when Elliot regarded him with an even, unflinching gaze, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re fucking joking.”

“I have guns,” Elliot insisted. “I can drive in a firefight better than any of you fuckheads. Just ask John.”

“Yeah, he told me about your little stunt. You almost killed Faith.”

“But I didn’t,” Elliot insisted, “ and I got valuable information, which was that they weren’t willing to kill her even if it meant killing us, so you’re welcome, you fuckhead!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jacob bit out.

“Okay,” John interjected just as Elliot opened her mouth, “what if I went too?”

It wasn’t ideal. He didn’t really want to go on a happy little road trip to try and corner a murderous cult, he wanted to just let them fuck off and never come back, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that they had egregiously affected Elliot, and he had promised her, and if he went back on that promise now, the tentative peace they had come to would disappear instantly.

Whether she remembered the marriage or not.

His eldest brother stared at him for a long minute. John half-expected him to say no; after all, the whole point was to make sure they didn’t die, Elliot included, so that they could use her if something went awry after the Family was dealt with.

“Fine,” Jacob said after a moment.

“No!” Elliot protested instantly. “Fuck, God, no, I don’t—need a fucking babysitter.”

“On the contrary, I don’t know how you’ve survived this long without one,” Jacob replied. “John goes with you to choke them, or I go with you.”

Elliot’s mouth twisted in a vicious grimace. She tapped her thumb nail against her lower lip for a moment, her gaze sliding to him; their eyes lingered just a bit longer than normal, and for a second he thought she knew something that she wasn’t telling him.

“I’d rather drill out my own cavities than go with you,” Elliot said to Jacob after a minute.

“Great,” he said flippantly, “so you and John can have a nice little road trip down the highway—”

“Cool.”

“—and we’ll pin them in from the back. We’ve got enough explosives to light up the entire gaggle of them, but only once, so you’d better make it fucking count. Got it?”

Something was clearly brewing. It unsettled John, the way that she regarded him with a fixed, unreadable gaze. It struck John that Elliot hadn’t, in the last few days, mentioned anything about her plan, or her next move. It was the first time that he was not acutely aware of her intentions beyond revenge for Hudson.

What’s going on in that head of yours? He wondered. What’s storming around in there?

“Got it,” Elliot replied, at length. “So when do we leave?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot stood by idly while Joseph went about his work. His “work” being speaking in low murmurs to John and Jacob, hands on both of their shoulders, heads bowed together as he took them through what was certainly some kind of horrific disfigurement of a prayer.

Joseph had been pleased when she’d told him about that night in her apartment. He’d looked elated, to know the nitty-gritty details of her worst nightmare; of her then-boyfriend terrorizing her, for weeks, before breaking into her apartment. He’d been thrilled. He’d cradled her face and said, Don’t worry, Elliot. You’re safe now.

She had to bite back a laugh. Safe , like that meant anything to her anymore. Her apartment had been safe. Joey had been safe. And what had that gotten her?

Alone.

Alone, and with strange, broken moments of time. John had said that she’d gone straight to sleep, but if that was the case, she’d had uncomfortable dreams, too. Splintering fragments of what felt like a memory. John, kissing her, arms wrapped around her midsection: I want to be yours. I want a home, with you.

It was too much of a fairytale to have been real, she knew—John would never. He’d said it himself; he’d do anything for his family, and that meant dying, and lying, and squirming his way into her bed, and fuck him for being that way. Maybe she wanted him in her bed, and fuck him for that, too.

Because he had lied to her. Or at the very least, he hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. Elliot knew she’d taken her gun with her, and when she’d woken up, she’d seen it on the table.

“You’re not riding this time, bud,” she said to Boomer, the keys in her hand. “I don’t want you in the car if you don’t have to be.”

The Heeler gazed her, big brown eyes soft and trusting. His tail wagged softly in the dirt. If there was someone that was going to make it out of here, no matter what, she’d make sure it was Boomer.

“Elliot.” It was Faith’s voice. She had slipped up while the brothers spoke amongst themselves, smiling at her, small and tentative. 

“Hey, Faith,” Elliot greeted her, clearing her throat. A wad of anxiety rolled in her stomach at the sight of the blonde—something she wasn’t expecting, and that she couldn’t quite parse out. “What are you doing up so late? Or—early, I guess.”

“I wanted to see you off,” she replied sweetly. “You’re going to get that guy, right? The one that killed Hudson?”

She swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“Good.” The blonde sounded oddly determined. “I hope he suffers.”

A wave of affection washed over her. It was an unexpectedly kind thing to say. “Me too.”

The brothers finished their convening, and as they divided—John to her, Jacob to a group of Peggies, and Joseph beckoning Faith to follow him into the chapel—Elliot felt something settle right in her, just under her skin, and John glanced back over his shoulder before he reached up.

His fingers brushed her jaw. She didn’t recoil the same way she had before, but steeled herself against the instinct to do so; the two combating urges to both lean and pull away. But she stayed perfectly still, and when John leaned down, she tilted her chin up.

Their lips brushed. She wanted to linger in the moment, to enjoy it, but she couldn’t brush off the creeping knowledge that he hadn’t been honest with her.

“Aren’t you excited to go on a roadtrip with me?” John said, his voice low as he kissed her.

Elliot tilted her head just a little bit out of his grasp. “So I can hear you complain about my driving?”

“Mean.” He smiled against her mouth. “Cruel. Wicked.”

“Are you trying to compliment me into submission?” Elliot asked, and then he kissed her again—slower this time, more leisurely; indulgent was the word he should have used for her, all things considered.

He looked at her for a moment, a little like he couldn’t get enough of her, and murmured, “Not into submission. Just complimenting for all the normal reasons.”

“Are you two leaving or what?” Jacob snapped from a few feet away. “We have time wasting.”

Elliot exhaled, sharp and tired, against John’s mouth, and he laughed, pulling away from her. He waved at Jacob before he walked around to the other side of the truck and climbed in; she hoisted herself into the driver’s side and rolled the window down and cranked the engine on. Everything she thought they might need had been loaded into the small space behind their seats—guns, ammo, what medical supplies she’d been able to take from Fall’s End, some food. She tapped a cigarette out of a carton she’d snagged and lit it.

“Really?” John asked, without heat, as she pulled the truck slowly away from the center of the yard.

“I’m tired,” Elliot replied, taking a drag of the cigarette. “If I am still sick, it’s really sticking with me.”

John was quiet at that, glancing out the window as they pulled out of the compound, and she whistled out the window and Boomer took off to dart through the underbrush like an arrow; dark and sleek and lethal. She could see his eyes glinting in the headlights as she turned onto the road and hit pavement.

“You shouldn’t have had to come,” she said. 

“I would’ve wanted to, even if Jacob didn’t demand it.” John glanced over at her, and for a second she thought he looked almost sly as he continued, “You don’t have to do everything alone all the time, you know.”

“Please don’t try and Atlas this thing, deputy.”

Jerome’s voice clattered around in her, vibrating each time it connected with some surface of her memory; but she didn’t let herself feel them, didn’t let them wander into her conscience, because if she did she would have lost herself to the grief.

“I know,” Elliot said quietly, tapping the ash out the window. “It’s just hard. I don’t—I’m not—”

“A team player?” he prompted, reaching over and taking the cigarette out of her hand so that he could take a drag for himself. Before she could correct him on what she was going to say— good at letting go —he snagged her free hand and in a surprising act of affection, brought it to his mouth to kiss her fingers.

“We’ll kill him, El,” John continued. He carried an easiness about him now that he hadn’t had before, like he was suddenly very relaxed despite the task at hand. “And then this whole nightmare will be over.”

The irony that John Seed was assuring her that the nightmare would be finished was palpable, and certainly not lost on her. Even if it was endearing, the way that he snagged her hand and kissed her knuckles, the way that he smoked her cigarette down, like she could get a secondhand-decompression from it.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “I know, John.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As soon as they hit the highway, the dark night sky stretching out above them, Elliot felt herself relax.

For the first time in a long time, she felt still ; as though all of that vibrating, all of that suffering, had ended, even if it was only for a moment. Even if that meant that John Seed was a part of the quiet.

“Remember the last time you were driving us somewhere?” John prompted from the passenger seat, rolling the window up against the chill of the late evening. “You stole my sunglasses, you smoked in the car, and then you tried to drive us into an oncoming car. With my sister in it.”

“This sounds like a lot of complaining for someone who’s still in one piece,” Elliot replied, hitting the cruise button on the truck and glancing out the window. She was going slower than normal, letting Boomer dart through the underbrush as he trailed them. He’d barely gotten half the amount of exercise he’d been used to since they’d been in the compound, so he was probably having the time of his little doggy life.

“I’m just saying, cruising at a cool twenty-five on an empty highway seems highly out of character for you.”

Elliot opened her mouth to say something, her head turning to look at John, but several things happened in very quick succession: Boomer barked, loud and sharp on her left, John leaned forward to look at him, and when John leaned, Elliot saw a dark, gray shape lurching its way from the far side of the road up onto the pavement.

Panic shot through her body. She slammed her foot on the gas, but it was too late; the van—and that’s what it was, a van —was quicker on the uptake and slammed straight into the back end of the truck, sending it tires-squealing across the highway and straight into a tree. The sound of crunching metal and glass breaking rang in her ears as her body lurched with the movement, wrenching against the steering wheel with a force that knocked the wind right out of her.

She was aware, vaguely, of airbags weakly deploying. Fucking Peggies, she thought through the haze of pain, fumbling with her seatbelt. And then her body kicked again: someone fucking hit us, fuck fuck fuck, oh shit oh fuck, her finger jamming uselessly on the mangled seatbelt clicker.

“John?” Elliot asked, as smoke billowed into the front of the car. The windshield was broken, and the engine sputtered dangerously.

“What—in the fuck—?” His voice was groggy, and through the smoke filling the cab of the truck and her own blurring vision she could see the dim shape of him moving.

The seatbelt finally released, and she fumbled blindly at John’s, ignoring the burning filling her lungs and stinging across her skin.

“John, we have to—John we have to fucking move,” she said, and then she heard the door behind her swing open; frantically she pushed at John’s seatbelt, trying to scoot away from the noise instinctively, but the second she felt a hand gripping the back of her shirt in a fist, she could feel the dread wadding up in her stomach. 

Elliot wrenched her body hard, not bothering to look before she tried to kick whoever was grabbing at her. The hand gripping her sweater went harder, another wrapping around her calf.

And then yanked. Hard.

There was no collision of body; no one was trying to catch her out of the truck, but just haul her out, tossing her like a rag doll onto the hard ground beside the road. It was the second time in as many minutes where the wind was ripped straight out of her, and she coughed, struggling to sit up.

A booted foot planted itself on her shoulder and pressed her back into the ground.

“Sit back, mor,” an unfortunately familiar red-head cooed, digging his foot into her shoulder until she squirmed. “Relax.”

“Fuck—yourself,” Elliot ground out, wrapping her free arm around the offending leg to try and get some leverage to pull herself out from under him. But Kian easily breezed past six feet tall, and probably weighed twice as much as her. He grabbed the hand gripping his knee with a kind of bruising force and twisted until she couldn’t bite back the cry of pain.

She could hear the sounds of voices on the other side of the truck, the sound of a car pulling up next to the wreckage, and Boomer barking furiously. 

John, she thought hazily, they’re grabbing him, and Boomer. I have to fucking—I have to get up, I have move, fucking move you useless fucking body.

“Did you get my gift?” Kian asked her, lifting his foot so he could haul her to her feet. Get out get out get out her brain was screaming when his free hand gripped her throat the same way it had done before. “Did you like it, mor? Picked out every flower myself and stuffed each one in. Her eyes —”

Elliot tried to throw her body weight one way, but to no avail; the images were already flooding over her. Joey, packed full of flowers. Joey, blooming from every part of her.

“—her mouth —”

“Stop,” Elliot begged, her voice coming out hoarse, grating on each sensitive part of her soul on its way out. “Don’t talk about her—”

“—her ribs and chest, those were the best parts to fill up,” Kian seethed. “Broke every one of her pretty little ribs and yanked them right out. Could not waste any space, could we, mor?”

He spat the moniker at her with venom. Where Ase had said it to her reverently, with adoration, caressing her with the single-syllable, he bit it out of his mouth: he sank his teeth into it, brimming with hatred.

Her vision fuzzed around the edges, and Kian dug his fingers into the soft skin of her throat. “Ase—said,” Elliot managed out, one last-ditch attempt at survival, “she said she was—she was waiting for me—”

Kian hauled her against the truck, all but throwing her against the dented and splintering metal as the smell of burning rubber filled the air. Every inch of her body was screaming , straining and aching, desperate for some kind of relief from the constant onslaught of pain.

“Ase,” Kian hissed out against her temple, so low that she almost couldn’t hear him, “is dead. Your man killed her. Or don’t you remember?”

Elliot wheezed. She did, but his grip on her throat was so tight that she thought she was going to pass out; there was no room to answer even if she thought that Kian wanted to hear it.

“We’re going to have fun, little one.” He punctuated each word as hard as he could, punching it out of his mouth. “We’re going to see how fast you can run. You and that man of yours. Did you know, mor —”

His fingers loosened on her throat, brushing over what she was sure was a bruise from John her neck, almost admiring. The sensation sent unpleasant goosebumps prickling along her spine. 

“—that I have intimate knowledge of the human body?” he finished. “So much time digging around in one, you start to figure out how to make someone’s life end quickly—or make them die a long and suffering death.” He smiled, the gesture out of place on his face; in another life, in another world, Kian would have been handsome, but in this lifetime the expression on him only looked jagged and sharp. Like it didn’t quite fit into his skin.

Elliot gathered up whatever strength she had left and spit in his face.

She hadn’t realized her mouth was full of blood, but in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising; watching the crimson splatter Kian’s face was more a happy little treat, albeit short-lived.

“You ugly fuckhead,” she gritted out as he wiped the blood from his face. “I’m pretty good at making sure people suffer, too, let me go first and we can—s-swap notes—”

Too late, she realized that Kian was banking on her mouthing off; he fished something out of his pocket and then shoved it into her mouth. It was a wet washcloth, the taste of it earthy and reminiscent of the lingering taste that had been in her mouth when she’d woken up at the camp before. She tried desperately to spit it out, but her jaw worked tiredly, exhausted.

“Much better,” he said. “I’ll tell you what: I see your color too, mor, and do you know what I see? Not white, not perfect balance like Ase said. You are gray. Oh.” He clicked his tongue, gripping her neck to pull her forward and then slam her back against the truck again, sending her vision spinning. “So sad, aren’t you? Don’t worry. You’ll bloom for me.”

Kian beamed at her, almost boyish, holding her with his vice-like grip.

“They always do.”

[thedeadliestdecade]

me?? actually making content for my ocs??? can you BELIEVE?????

cw: implied murder/rape/violence (towards women), implied pedophilia (towards teenagers), casual misogyny/dehumanization, victim blaming, uhhh a rl serial killer gets mentioned so there's that

none of the subjects above are explicit, just implied

alt title: randall kundert’s a sick piece of shit and i am very sorry for subjecting you all to him

august 11, 1977. somewhere in upstate new york.

it’s half past one am.

randall kundert finds himself sitting on the hood of his car, parked on the side of the road, smoking a cigarette. he’s not far from the nearest motel, but it’s late and really, who’s actually gonna find him here? more importantly, who’s actually gonna care?

the only lights are the headlights of his car, shining up towards the billboard he’s currently found himself lost in. the only sound being the muffled tunes coming from the car radio.

he feels at home here.

he had been trying to finish the entry for his latest girl---trial and error had taught randall that it was best to start writing as soon as possible---but he just couldn't keep himself focused.

he had all the basics down

(her name was cora jackson she had golden blonde hair in a loose braid she wore a brown sweater and a loooong skirt that went down to her flats her car was broken down she wanted to call her mom she cried and cried and cried and)

but goddamn, it just gets boring writing the same shit over and over and over again (with a few treasured exceptions, of course).

suddenly, randall hears what sounds like a news report coming from inside.

“...the new york city police department have announced tonight that they have in their custody the man they believe to be the .44 killer, also known as the son of sam. david berkowitz, age 24, was captured outside his apartment building in nearby yonkers...”

huh. and here randall thought they were never gonna catch the fucker. probably just turned himself in or something.

“well, shit.”

maybe he should be worried. that fucker running around

(what was his name, daniel? derek? randall had forgotten already. he’d never been good with names, unless it was one of his girls.)

was the only thing that got ava to shut the hell up about him being out until around 3:30 am that last night in nyc. it was less than two weeks ago, and randall honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she was still pissed about it. probably thought he was cheating on her or some shit like that (god he hoped it was just something like that please please please don’t let ava find out ever please).

not that it matters, really. it's not like anyone would realistically suspect him.

natalie lipschitz doesn't remember jackshit about the night of july 31. he’d done a hell of a number on that girl (and it serves her right for being out while a maniac was running around), it’d be a shock if she ever remembered.

besides, he’s stopped paying attention anyway.

someone else is on his mind right now.

seventeen year old judith dempsey stares down at him in gray-scale with blank eyes from the billboard.

missing since 11/18/1976.

(he left her in that run-down house deep in the woods of violet county, hidden beneath the floorboards.)

have you seen her?

(she had those same dimples that even now just drove him wild, that same pale soft hair, those same sharp cheekbones.)

call 1-800-577-8372 if you have any information.

(her eyes once brown and lively, now just as blank and gray as the ones on the billboard.)

please help us bring her home.

(they still haven’t found her.)

the whole thing’s kinda funny. it’s been almost a year, and here patricia dempsey was, still looking for her daughter. man, some people just never give up, do they?

(stupid bitch.)

she was his first in violet county. the first one he actually knew beforehand. she’d been sallie’s math tutor. she didn’t come out of her room for two days straight after judith went missing (well, according to their mother, at least)

he almost feels guilty for a moment.

almost.

as he gazes upon her (forever frozen in time), randall finds himself drawn to the glow of the headlights—the way they illuminate her face, like a halo, like she were an angel in a stained glass window. it was almost like a scene from a movie. it was beautiful, even.

(she was one of his favorite girls.)

his hands tremble, pulse quickens as he remembers that november night. she’d kicked and screamed and bit and lost quite a few teeth because of it.

(he still has some of them. and her class ring.)

he can swear he sees accusation upon her portrait. can swear he hears her (and rosemarie loomis and loralei sharpe and rickie lenz and marnie zito and genette boyd and thelma cunningham and jennifer white and cinda lou matheson and and and) curse his name in the silence of the night.

scream all you want, girls. no one could hear you then, no one will hear you now.

with that, randall slides off the hood and climbs into the driver's seat. he checks his watch: 2:15 am. it’s too late to go home, and he was too far anyways. motel it is, then. his fingers are just about to turn the key in the ignition when he pauses.

doesn’t patricia dempsey have another daughter?

yes. yes, she does. judith’s younger sister. she’s one of sallie’s classmates.

arlene dempsey.

now, wouldn’t it be funny to see patricia dempsey’s face---to see her drop to her knees, or hell, even scream---when she finds out she’s lost not one, but both of her children? to the same man, no less.

why, if he could get away with that...

randall kundert grins as he starts the car, his green eyes alight with something both gleeful and terrible.

he glances in the mirror, to the backseat. cora jackson’s clothes are sealed in a box on the passenger's side. her cross necklace is in his pocket. he still hasn’t finished her entry.

he was far from done yet.

[teamhook]

A Chapter A Day... Savage Heart CS AU :: Finale

Well, this is it the last of the month and a chapter a day. Today I give you the final two chapters. Yes, I know I don’t know how to count. :) Sorry.

I wanna thank @ilovemesomekillianjones​ my beta for the story. She is amazing! The sweetest person and I was lucky she agreed to help me with this story.

The lovely cover was made by the awesome @xhookswenchx​ one of the first to give love to this story.

 I also wanna thank @ultraluckycatnd​ for looking over the last chapter to calm my nerves. I was afraid I was rushing.

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 30: New Beginnings

~~~Golden Cove

After a celebratory dinner at the Nolan's home, celebrating Killian and Emma's union, Emma's safe return, and the fact that the whole family was all back together, along with a few new faces, Graham had decided to go back to Golden Cove.

He is determined to find out the culprits of the capture of the young Mrs. Jones. She had mentioned two young boys, both from Misthaven, the Doctor, and a man they called Peters. One of the boys had aided her in her escape. Graham had asked a few locals about the Doctor and Peters but they had claimed to not know anything about either man. The frustration he feels is great, he has lived on the outskirts of town not far from them for years. He has sold them furs and meat but he is still seen as an outsider. They still don't trust him.

After days of having no leads he decides to go to one of the seediest taverns in town since alcohol is known to loosen people's tongues. He hopes to find a little luck in his pursuit of justice. The tavern is small, but it's filled with rowdy men and a few familiar faces. There is one that catches his attention. A former Doctor, who usually keeps to himself is surrounded by drunken men. The man is spending a lot of money, yet there is no explanation for his small fortune. His practice is currently nonexistent.

Graham approached the table with a smile. "Good day, Mr. Hyde." The Doctor smiles, "Good day, huntsman. How's hunting treating you?"

"It has been a bit slow, how about you? You seem to be in good spirits." Graham sits down across from the man.

"I came into a bit of money thanks to an old friend." There is a slight slur to Hyde's voice.

"An old friend?" Graham asks. Perhaps this is the lead he needs.

The Doctor nods, "Yes, helped out an old friend and he was generous."

"Sounds great, do you think your friend could help me out? Hunting has been too slow lately," Graham prodded.

"I'm afraid that is no longer a possibility. He's gone back to town."

"Too bad, I could have used some generosity myself," Graham sighs. "Could you let your friend know about me in case there's another opportunity?"

"I'll keep it in mind. You never know, maybe Malcolm will need help once more."

"Is your friend Malcolm from around here?"

"Yes, he owns a house just outside of town."

Graham starts piecing the puzzle together. The house where Emma was kept was outside of town, the mysterious Malcolm, and the Doctor. "Outside of town, isn't that property owned by Fiona Black?"

"Yes, that's Malcolm's late wife's maiden name."

"Oh, isn't it uncommon for a woman not to take her husband's name?"

"Fiona was a piece of work. She enjoyed making Malcolm feel worthless. When she died, Malcolm didn't shed a tear."

"The name Malcolm sounds familiar, what's his last name?"

"Oh, Peters. I doubt you know him, he has long been gone from town."

"I just thought I had heard someone mention him recently," Graham responds. He just has to act natural so Hyde won't get spooked. He wants to appeal to his good side and hopes to convince him to provide information. When Graham has what he needs, he parts ways with the Doctor.

Unfortunately, Graham isn't the only one that had noticed the good doctor's newfound wealth, and on his walk home, Doctor Hyde finds himself on the wrong side of a blade.

All that Graham finds at Doctor Hyde's place is the last piece of jewelry the man had squirreled away.

~~~Booth Estate

Cora arrives back home with Malcolm and is greeted by Milah casually leaning on the wall facing the front door, a smirk dancing on her face. "Please, tell me I have to play the grieving widow."

Cora clenches her jaw and sneers at the woman she has grown to hate. "In a perfect world, you'd be dead."

Milah rolls her eyes and sighs. "So that's a no. Too bad, I look great in black." She walks away thinking that luck isn't on her side, she had hoped Killian would free her from her marriage. All she can do is wonder why he didn't kill August?

Enith nervously asks, "Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am?"

Cora quickly responds, "Did my son come home?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

Cora sighs as she walks toward the open door she had forgotten to close when she first arrived home. She looks out and wonders where the hell August has gone. "Enith, let me know the moment he arrives."

Enith curtsies, "Yes, ma'am."

~~~Nottingham's Office

"Mr. Booth, tell me what you have in mind?"

"Simply take everything from him. His money, his wife, his freedom."

Sheriff Nottingham smiles. "I like the way you think, and I may have just the perfect place to start."

August nods. "Tell me."

"I'm in possession of the pirate's ship. We recently raided a different ship with stolen goods. The pirate claims he has a reputable business. We can claim otherwise. We fill his ship with contraband. He will lose his newfound reputation, and his wife will see him for the louse he is. He will rot in prison for the rest of his life."

"Do it." August quickly agrees with the plan.

Nottingham smiles wickedly. "I'll take care of it."

August leaves the office with a smile.

Nottingham orders some of the guards at the prison to transfer the confiscated items to the ship.

~~~Misthaven

After being dumped by Malcolm back at the docks in the port town, Felix had been in a bad mood. He had taken out his anger on Rufio, talking down to him and even giving him an occasional beating. Rufio has had enough.

They had been told to stick by the old woman's home and not to venture to the docks. The older lady is kind to them, but Rufio is tired and he misses the smell of the sea. He also wants to make sure Emma had made it back home. He knows that she will get the Captain to forgive him. It doesn't take long for him to reach the house, staying in the shadows. He won't approach Captain Jones until he knows the Captain has talked to his wife.

Felix, on the other hand, tries to contact Malcolm and fails, so he starts hanging out at the docks, blatantly ignoring the man's instructions. He's currently sitting on top of some old discarded crates looking at the horizon.

The older sailors just walk by him like he doesn't exist. The only one who had ever acted like an orphan like him mattered, was Captain Jones, but he went and married that woman. He knows Rufio let her go. Felix is surprised when he sees Mr. Peters walking toward him with a scowl on his face.

"Felix, what are you doing here?" Malcolm hisses. "I told you to stay put." He grabs the boy's arm. "I don't have time for this."

Felix glares at Malcolm. "Maybe you'll make time if Captain Jones found out you were responsible for his wife's disappearance."

Malcolm stares at him. "I'm sorry, you're right. Come along." Felix complies with a smile.

The older man leads him to the tavern by the docks. "Stay here, I have to go inside to look for someone."

"I can go in there," Felix whined.

"Just wait here, it will be a second." Malcolm walks inside and minutes later he emerges. "Alright let's go."

The smile returns to Felix's face. As they walk back to the docks, Felix stops. Malcolm turns to the boy annoyed. "Why are you stopping?"

"I want to show you something." Felix takes off running towards the beach.

Malcolm watches the boy run to the beach. He has a job to do but it seems the day has turned into him taking care of children. After the threat Felix made earlier, he decides to go after him. When he finally reaches him, he finds Felix kicking rocks into the water. They're standing on a ledge on a cliff overlooking the water. Malcolm peers over, the water is surprisingly calm.

Felix turns to Malcolm. "We call this Skull Rock. All the lost boys come here to watch the ships arrive. We would watch the Jolly from miles away and then run to the docks to meet Captain Jones."

Malcolm smiles and nudges Felix. The boy reacts fast enough to grab onto the ledge, the rocks crumbling under his grip. "Please, help me. Don't let me fall. I don't know how to swim." Little does he know that the fall will kill him before he drowns.

Malcolm smirks. "Felix, what kind of sailor doesn't know how to swim?" With those words, he kicks at Felix. Felix loses his grip and falls. One last look and Malcolm walks away. He liked the boy, he really did, but he had threatened him. What was he to do?

Now to find his boss.

Malcolm was so busy trying to get back to his task that he failed to notice Rufio had just witnessed the whole thing.

An hour or so later, Malcolm finds August at the Golden Goose Tavern, passed out.

Malcolm finally returns to the Booth Estate with August in tow.

~~~Jones Home

The group arrives at the house and seats themselves in the living room. Everyone is still shaken by this new secret that's come to light.

Emma is caressing Killian's stubbled cheek while she sniffles. She is trying to come to terms with today's events and the scare of possibly losing him.

Killian turns his attention to Archie. "Did you know?" he asks, then laughs humorlessly at his own question. "Of course you knew, that's why you looked out for me, right?" His eyebrow raises. "Not because you cared for me, but because of him - my so-called father. I always wondered why I was so lucky to have your protection." Emma kept her hand on Killian's arm as he ranted.

Archie stayed quiet.

Killian turned to Emma. "Milah was right, and you didn't know before today?"

Emma locks eyes with her husband. "No, Killian. I found out today. The only reason Cora told me was because she wanted my help in stopping you from killing August. We already talked about this, before I was kidnapped. I'm sorry, Killian, that you had to grow up alone, thinking you had no one, when in actuality, you had two brothers. I wouldn't have kept this secret from you." She flinches as she looks at Archie's fallen face.

Liam finally breaks his silence. "Brother, do you think you and August can mend your friendship?"

Killian scoffs, "I doubt it; he wants me dead and my wife in his bed."

Emma and Tink share a look that isn't missed by Killian. "Tink, what was that look about?" He is glaring at her.

Tink mouths sorry to Emma. "He came here looking for you and he got handsy with Emma."

Killian turns to Emma. "Darling, you didn't think I should know that? What did he do, did he hurt you?" He looks her over to make sure there are no bruises.

Emma sighs. "He was drunk and I was going to tell you but I wanted to wait until the shock of finding out your brothers wore off. He got handsy and when I said no, he tried harder. Tink helped me but I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret. He is your brother."

"Darling, you should have said something. He shouldn't have touched you. This is all my fault."

"Brother, I hate to interrupt, but I'm afraid we need to inform Emma's parents of the situation. Not everything bad people do is your fault Killian." He turns to Emma. "I'm happy you're alright." He smiles at her fondly.

"Liam is right, they need to know about Milah. It's about time they find out the truth. It's gonna break their hearts, but it's for the best."

Killian sighs. "They're going to hate me. What if they ask you to leave me?"

Emma shakes her head. "I would never do that. I love you. They might be angry at first but you didn't force Milah into anything. Milah has always done whatever she wants."

~~~The Nolans

After a lengthy conversation, Emma and Killian go talk to her parents about the Milah situation. Emma wants to make sure her parents get Killian's side of the story before Milah's. Her cousin is conniving and she would use any means to ensure that Killian is seen as the villain. His past is going to make it hard enough to believe their version rather than whatever fanciful story Milah comes up with.

Liam and Nemo hesitate in going with them, but Emma convinces them to go since Ingrid and Elsa are staying at her parents' house. The mere mention of Elsa puts a smile on Liam's face after the day they've had. Nemo agrees saying it is sensible for someone with a clear head to be there. Archie is quiet as he accompanies them and Tink decides to stay home.

The Nolans are engaged in a lovely post-dinner conversation with their visitors Ingrid and Elsa, and Snow has just excused herself to get some cookies and tea for the group.

David enjoys having his old friends around him; it feels like old times. Of course, there is the added bonus that he is back with his family, his lovely wife, and daughters. Although Milah isn't his, he loves her as if she is. She is all he has left of his brother. While enjoying the company, Emma and Killian arrive with the rest of the houseguests.

David notices Emma's demeanor. He knows his daughter and she looks upset.

"Father, we need to talk to you in private," Emma tells him after she says her hellos to everyone.

"This sounds serious." He turns to their guests and excuses himself. "Should I fetch your mother?"

Emma turns to Killian. "Yes, it would be best if we don't have to repeat the story. We'll be waiting in your office."

David goes to go get Snow and they return to their guests with enough cookies and tea for the new arrivals as well. They excuse themselves from their company to tend to Emma and Killian. The young couple is sitting down by the time Snow and David arrive and take their seats.

"All right, what's going on?" David asks.

"Mom, Dad, there's no easy way to say this… so I am just going to say it. Milah and Killian had a relationship before she married August, August found out and he challenged Killian to a duel but Cora and I stopped it because it turns out that August and Killian are brothers." Emma summarizes the events, relaying them as quickly as she can.

Snow and David turn to each other and for a brief second have a mental conversation. Then David gets up and approaches Killian. Emma reacts quickly as she stands to block her father's path. Killian squeezes her arm.

Snow gasps. "The rumor, it was her! It was her all along and she didn't think twice about saying it was Emma."

David is glaring at Killian over Emma's shoulder. "What rumor are you speaking of?"

Emma is the one to answer. "There was a rumor around town about one of the Nolan Countesses having a relationship with Killian. And yes, Mother, it was Milah."

"Emma, how can you be so calm? Did you know about this?"

"I did, Dad," Emma answers with a small smile.

"And you still married him?" David is itching to punch Killian. "Did he force you to?"

"He didn't force anyone. Not me, not Milah."

David's glare intensifies.

"Dad, they were betrothed, Milah promised to marry Killian and instead married August, while Killian was away on business. Yes, I knew. I found out shortly after she married August. I thought about exposing the affair but who would believe me? I would be accused of lying because I was being spiteful."

Snow is quiet. "This is all my fault; I've spoiled Milah. I remember when the rumor was mentioned, before she claimed it had been Emma, and it was her. How could she accuse Emma knowing full well it wasn't, David?" she sighs. "Emma is right. If she would have said something, she would have been accused of lying. Milah didn't even think twice about accepting August's proposal."

"Mom, Dad, that's not the worst thing. I think she was responsible for my kidnapping."

"Emma, how can you say that? She is your family." David shakes his head in denial.

"I say it because she is vile and she wants Killian." Emma glares at her father.

David turns his face away to avoid his daughter's scowl, and so he doesn't argue further. "Alright, so August knows and there was a duel?"

Emma nods. "Yes, and I helped Cora stop it with a letter saying that Killian is Brennan Booth's son. We just didn't want you to be surprised by the revelation if Cora or August come here. I don't know what they plan to do about Milah, they might want to return her."

David and Snow exchange looks before he sighs. "Snow what are we going to do with her?" Snow closes her eyes and tears fall out. "We tried to be good parents. I went out of my way so she wouldn't feel we favored you - but it seems as if it was all for nothing. As for the Killian situation, I'm not surprised. I did tell you I saw a resemblance."

"Mom, you knew?"

"I wasn't sure. I saw the letter but when I asked Cora, she denied it. I'm guessing because of reputation."

"I guess saving August's life was more important than that."

Killian finally spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, Milah approached me. I'm not saying I have no responsibility in the matter. I was going to marry her upon my return from Arendelle but I was too late. I was angry and I wanted her back. Then I met Emma and we got to know each other and little by little the anger was replaced by something else. Before we knew it and were able to accept it, we fell in love. I swear I only want to be a man deserving of her love. I've made mistakes, I cannot deny that, but your daughter is the love of my life."

Killian's words appease his in-laws, not to mention, neither Snow nor David can deny the love that flows between the young couple.

As the day comes to an end, Killian and Emma make their departure, retreating to their home. Her parents hadn't opted to make her a widow and she is grateful because she's extremely fond of her husband.

As they lay down for the night, Emma notices Killian is very calm and decides to take advantage, "Killian?"

He turns to look at her with a smile, things had gone a lot better than expected. "Yes, my love."

"Rufio, uhm he helped me and I'm worried about him." Emma feels him tense up. "Killian, I told him you would forgive him if I asked. So I'm asking, when I find him, please forgive him. He took care of me. He talked about you nonstop and I think it was for my benefit, so I wouldn't miss you. He helped me escape. Please."

Killian sighs. "Your wish is my command. I'll do my best to look past his actions."

"I don't think it was their fault. They were led to believe that without me, you would go back to your life at sea."

"Who would do that?"

"Rufio mentioned a man, Peters, and the name didn't sound familiar until today."

"Why today, love?"

"Cora introduced him to me while we went looking for you. That's his last name. It has to be more than just a coincidence that he lives at the Booth Estate. I've suspected Milah from the moment I woke up in that place."

Emma snuggles closer, his strong arms engulfing her. There's a silence between them as they contemplate what has transpired since they met, and soon they fall asleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.

~~~Booth Home *Next Day

Cora is anxiously still waiting for August to wake up. He had been passed out when Malcolm had retrieved him from some tavern. She could smell the cheap alcohol coming off him when Malcolm brought him home. She couldn't regret her actions because all that mattered was that her son was alive. She would deal with the consequences of her secret being out later. She just hopes he didn't make any more stupid decisions.

August wakes up hungover and he's a little disorientated. All the memories come back from the previous night. He stumbles as he dresses to go get something to drink. His mouth is dry and he has a headache. The path to the dining room is too bright but he carries on. The only thing that gives him comfort is that his mother thought of making up one of the guest rooms for him. Just the thought of going to his marital room makes him sick.

He will go see the Sheriff to make sure that Jones is taken care of. Oh, and he will ask Nottingham to ensure that he will not allow Emma passage to see Killian. He knows that in time, Emma will realize Killian isn't the man for her.

His mother sits at the head of the table, eating some fruit. She looks at him as he enters the room. "Son, good you're awake. We need to talk."

"Good morning, Mother. I don't want to talk right now." His eyes turn to Milah. "Whore, shouldn't you be on your back?"

Milah smirks. "You loved me on my back." She returns her attention to her tea.

"Apparently I wasn't the only one, but soon your lover will get what he deserves," August mocks.

Milah studies August's demeanor, he has an appeal he didn't have before. She shakes her head. She looks down at her plate and pushes it aside. She hasn't been able to keep anything down.

Cora glares at Milah. "I hate you, and you will get what you deserve, you vile whore." Cora stands up and storms off.

Milah has an idea of what ails her but she hopes she is wrong. She can't go to the doctor, but she can go to the healer. She goes back to her room and dresses. No one seems to care about her whereabouts anymore. She has a horse saddled and makes her trip.

The healer confirms her suspicions. She is pregnant and the father has to be August. Her little indiscretion with the Sheriff was recent and she had felt the symptoms shortly after her honeymoon. Now to decide if she wants to claim the child is Killian's and destroy his marriage or tell the truth and have the child be the heir of the Booth Estate.

~~~Jones Home

Emma and Killian are sharing breakfast with Tink while they tell her about the events from the prior day when there's a pounding at the door. Tink smiles. "I'll get it. You two enjoy your breakfast." Tink rushes to the door since the pounding is getting louder.

Sheriff Nottingham is standing at the door. As soon as the door opens, he pushes his way through. "Where's Jones? I'm here to arrest him. We found contraband on his ship, The Jolly Roger." His men follow him inside.

Tink glares at him. "You know perfectly well that he gave up the ship for Emma's return."

The Sheriff waves some documents in her face. "These papers name him as the owner of the ship and the warehouse. Jones, come out and face me!" he screams.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Killian demands as he and Emma come into the living room.

"Killian Jones, you're under arrest for contraband of stolen goods," Nottingham informs him.

Killian is frozen in place and he turns to Emma. His strong, lovely Emma.

Emma glares at Nottingham. "What proof do you have?"

"Ma'am, this is really not any of your business. You should go to your room," Sheriff Nottingham says, annoyed.

"You bloody git, you will show my wife the respect she deserves," Killian growls through gritted teeth.

"If she wanted respect, she should have married a man of honor," Nottingham mocks. The two men standing next to the foul lawman start walking toward Killian.

Killian turns to Emma. "Love, get Archie. He has proof about the legitimacy of my business. Don't worry, I will be home before you know it." Killian agrees to go with Nottingham if only to save Emma any further embarrassment from watching him being arrested.

As they watch Killian being manhandled into the Sheriff's carriage, Tink turns to Emma. "I'll go get Archie. Don't worry Emma."

Emma's eyes are watery from the tears that are threatening to fall. She turns to Tink. "I think my dad can help too, and Liam. He needs to know about Killian."

"Emma, you do know this is not true. Killian has turned his life around and it's all because of you."

Emma sniffles, "I know."

Tink takes off to go fetch Archie.

Emma is restless. She wants to go ask her dad for help getting Killian out of trouble. She keeps pacing and she is going to go crazy if she doesn't do something.

Rufio had slept on the beach, he's lucky it's still warm. He doesn't know if Peters is looking for him to get rid of him too. He needs to go talk to Mrs. Jones, and can only hope Captain Jones doesn't kill him on sight.

Rufio arrives at the Jones home. He's second-guessing his decision but he's alone. Felix was his closest friend and now he is gone. He can't go to the Sheriff because he won't care about an orphan.

The door flies open and Rufio is startled. Emma's eyes widened. "Rufio?"

He smiles. "Is it safe?"

Emma opens the door wider. "Come in," she tells the boy.

"Mrs. Emma is everything alright?"

"Rufio, everything will be okay. I've been so worried about you. What are you doing here?"

"He's dead," Rufio mutters as his bottom lip trembles.

"Who's dead?" she asks.

"Felix," he whispers as Emma pulls him into a hug.

Nottingham's Office

Sheriff Nottingham is grinning as he finishes filling out paperwork. Killian sits in the chair as the Sheriff hums happily at his turn in luck.

"Alright, take Jones here to his new home. Oh, and make sure it's the filthiest cell. And no bunkmates," Nottingham orders the two henchman standing guard at the door.

The men grab Killian roughly by the shoulders and head to the dungeons.

~~~

Tink arrives at Archie's office and tells him the news. He tells her to go be with Emma since Killian wouldn't want her to be alone. He promises to gather David and Liam and then head to the Sheriff's office.

Once at the Nolan's, Archie informs them of the situation as relayed to him by Tink. Archie, Liam, and Nemo head to the Sheriff's office and David heads to Emma's side.

As soon as Emma opens the door, she crashes into her father's arms. "Dad before you say anything, Killian is innocent. That horrible man made a show of arresting him." She tries not to let the tears flow.

David holds her tight and sighs. "Sweetheart, I know you love him, but is he worth all this trouble? The thing with Milah and now this?"

Emma stiffens and pushes herself away from her father's embrace. "If you're not here to help then maybe you should leave. I love him, Dad, and I know he is innocent. The thing with Milah, it wasn't just him. Yet somehow he is the only villain in the situation."

David nods. "Alright, I will go see him once we have more details. Archie, Liam, and Nemo went to go talk to the Sheriff. All we can do for now is wait. Emma, your mother wanted to come but she was convinced by Ingrid and Elsa to wait for more information."

They head to the kitchen where Tink and Rufio are drinking some hot tea.

David quirks a brow at the sight of the young man.

"Oh, Dad this is Rufio, He helped me escape."

David's eyes go wide. "Emma, how can you have someone in your home that kidnapped you?"

"Dad, stop it." Rufio stands up, but a quick look to Emma makes him take his seat.

"He and Felix were manipulated by an older man who used their desire to be in Killian's crew. The other boy was killed yesterday by the same man."

"Emma, do you know who kidnapped you?"

"I know there was the doctor, Rufio, and Felix. The one that gave instructions was a man named Peters, who happens to be the steward at the Booth Estate."

"What?" David's voice rises.

"It can't just be a coincidence."

"Shouldn't we go to the Sheriff with this information?"

"You want to go to the man that arrested my husband?"

"We have to go to someone. If that man was truly responsible, he needs to be held accountable. Emma, he's the law. We have to inform him."

"I want to go visit Killian."

"Sweetheart, that place isn't somewhere you should be. I don't think Killian would want you to see him there. I'll go check on Killian. I know Liam, Nemo, and Archie were going to go find more information."

"Fine, I'll go talk to Cora. She owes me for helping her stop the duel and she needs to know what kind of man is working for her. Dad, make sure Killian is okay. I'll take Tink with me, Rufio will stay here."

Rufio looks up at the mention of his name.

Emma smiles at him. "It's safer this way. That way Mr. Peters doesn't see you."

Tink stands up. "I'm ready to go. But, Emma are you sure she can help?"

Emma tilts her head. "She is a Booth and they're powerful. If Sheriff Nottingham wants to keep his job, he will listen to her."

Emma is determined to get Killian out of that prison and she is starting to worry about just how dangerous Peters could be. Did Cora know what he was up to? If that was the case, that meant she was responsible for her kidnapping. Milah made more sense. Why would Cora want her kidnapped? Emma tries to think of possible reasons.

The carriage arrives at the Booth Estate. Emma and Tink walk to the door and knock.

"Darling girl, I didn't expect to see you so soon," Cora greets them, opening the door herself, for them to enter.

"Is Enith sick?" Emma asks as they enter the house.

Cora rolls her eyes. "No, she's fine. Now tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit."

"I need a favor," Emma says as she and Tink follow the older woman toward the office.

"A favor, what kind of favor?" Cora asks.

"I should say it's more of a payback for all those years my husband was alone."

Cora's smile thins. "What trouble has befallen the pirate?"

"He was arrested."

"I'm sorry Emma, but I can't say I'm surprised."

Tink scoffs. "Lady, Killian is innocent. Sheriff Nottingham knows this. He is saying there was contraband on the Jolly, but Killian gave it up in exchange for Emma. Nottingham hates Killian."

Emma smiles. "We still have the letter. The one that saved your son's life."

"Well, this is interesting. I'm being blackmailed by the pirate's wife."

Emma shakes her head. "Think of it as you wish. All I want is my husband home."

"Fine, I'll see what I can do."

"Oh and Cora, how well do you know Mr. Peters?"

"Why do you ask?"

Emma sighs and continues. "He was the one that ordered my kidnapping and that's not all. One of the boys he tricked into helping him was killed by his hand."

Cora turns white. "How can you make such serious accusations?"

"I befriended one of the boys and he helped me escape. He told me Peters' name and he saw him kill the other boy. I don't understand why he would want to kidnap me, but I think it has to do with Milah."

"I'm sorry darling, but your cousin is despicable. I wouldn't put it past her." Cora knows that Malcolm acted under her own orders, but blaming Milah couldn't be an easier out and it didn't bother her one bit.

"Is she here?" Emma asks.

"She was here earlier. I'm sorry dear, but I'd rather not have to lay eyes on her. As for your favor, I will see what I can do."

"Cora, you owe him. You owe us."

"I'll go talk to the Sheriff and I will stop by your house with news."

"Thank you." Emma nods to Tink and they both rise to leave.

Cora follows them out. As she watches the carriage leave, she wonders what trouble Malcolm has gotten into.

Nottingham's Office

Liam, Nemo, and Archie arrive and the quiet mannered man pounds on the door. Sheriff Nottingham welcomes them with a wide grin on his sleazy face.

"Please, come in and sit. Would any of you like something to drink? It's a special occasion for me so please don't judge me too harshly if I enjoy some rum," the lawman says as he pours himself a drink.

Archie is outraged. "You have no case against Killian and you know it! I have proof." He throws some documents on the desk.

The Sheriff smiles and tisks. "After all these years, you should call me by my first name, Keith. We have proof of stolen goods found on the ship."

Archie laughs. "You know that the ship was forfeited by Killian as a ransom for his wife. So you got your hands on the ship when Tink told you about the letter. We all know that the warehouse is clean of any stolen merchandise. This is just an attempt to finally best Killian by framing him. You didn't realize that he is not alone. He is not that poor orphan you've tried to step on."

"I agree with Archie, my brother is innocent and the proof you claim to have was planted by you. If we have to prove it we will, but mark my words Sheriff, you will pay for your treachery. Your questionable reputation is well known."

"Perhaps you all should be more respectful since I'm the one that decides if any of you get to see the pirate," Nottingham mocks. "But since I'm in such a great mood I will allow all of you to visit him." He smiles and yells out, "Guards!"

Nottingham sweats a bit but he feels confident that with August's support and the fact that Killian has a reputation, it will all turn out in his favor.

The men descend to the dungeons. Nemo and Archie quietly follow Liam and the guards leading the way. The cell is small, with a cot against the wall and a small barred window. Killian is looking out the window.

"I'm not in the bloody mood, Nottingham."

Liam clears his throat. "Brother, it's us."

Killian turns and walks to the barred door. "Liam, please take Emma to Arendelle. I don't want her to live with the humiliation that being married to me will inevitably bring. She deserves better. Perhaps even in time, she will find a suitor. I doubt I will get out of here. Nottingham will do everything in his power to make sure I rot in here."

Archie approaches from the back. "We will get you out of here. I promise."

Killian turns away as the three men leave with an unspoken promise to reunite the Captain with his wife.

Nottingham is sitting at his desk unable to hide his joy when the door opens and August saunters inside, uninvited.

August smiles. "I'm assuming it's done?"

"It is," he confirms with a wide grin.

"Any chance he'll try to escape?" August asks, sitting down.

"No, he wants to be an honorable man. If he attempted it, it would only make him look guilty."

"Sheriff, a favor, please. Ensure he isn't allowed visits from his wife."

"Of course. Hopper and some other men were visiting with him. The guards just let them out."

"I saw them come out before I entered. I should pay his wife a visit, to offer her my shoulder to cry on."

"How noble of you," Nottingham says. "Although, I'd advise you not to do that. Perhaps act as if you're unaware of the trouble that has befallen them."

August ponders the man's words, he could instead apologize for his behavior. "Thank you for your advice. I have a feeling things are going to start looking up for me."

The Sheriff wonders what Booth means by that, but he doesn't care to ask.

Hours later, David arrives at Nottingham's office and the man reluctantly allows him to visit Killian.

Killian swears to his father-in-law that he didn't do what he's accused of and begs him to keep an eye on Emma and to not bring her to see him like this. The thought of her in this place kills him. Mr. Nolan assures him that he believes him, if not only for the faith his daughter has in him. The distress he shows only increases the belief in his innocence.

Cora enters the office a little while later with an air of royalty. "Mr. Nottingham, I'm here to give you two choices. Please make sure you pick the right one. Release Killian Jones or cross me and bear the consequences. I'm sure you enjoy your job and the luxuries that come with it."

The Sheriff stares at her dumbfoundedly. "I'm sorry, are you threatening me?"

"Oh, dear Sheriff, you don't want to make an enemy out of me." She glares at him with her lips in a thin line. "I expect Mr. Jones to be released as soon as possible." Cora doesn't wait for an answer before sauntering out the door as regal as she had entered.

Emma is growing impatient, her dad has been gone for a while. No news from Cora or him is driving her crazy. She needs to know that Killian is okay, safe. As safe as he can be. So she sneaks out when Tink and Rufio are busy trying to make something for her to eat.

She reaches the Sheriff's faster than expected. She knocks and is called inside.

Sheriff Nottingham stands up as soon as his eyes land on her. She is a beautiful woman. He wonders if her desperation will lead her to some unsavory decisions. If he's honest, he wouldn't object to her trying to persuade him for her husband's freedom.

"Mrs. Jones, how can I help you?" His smile is lecherous to say the least.

"Sheriff, I'm here to see my husband." She stands tall with her head high.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he shrugs.

"Excuse me? Why can't I see my husband?" Her fierce eyes threaten to burn him alive.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones, there are some things I need to check before the nuns visit tomorrow for their weekly visit. Please, excuse me." He stands and goes to the door, and she makes her way to the door as well.

Emma is not happy but she has an idea. She remembers that the nuns visit the prisoners weekly to take them food and blankets.

She smiles as she decides her next stop The Convent.

Mother Superior is surprised to see her, and has nothing but pity in her eyes when Emma shares the reason for her visit. At first, Mother Superior feelsEmma shouldn't visit Killian, but when Emma shares the information about the donations Killian has been making anonymously to the convent, the nun has a change of heart. The nun offers her help in the form of a habit and veil for Emma to wear.

Mother Superior hands her the items. "You will wear this. Perhaps, arrive early enough to change and then we can leave."

"Thank you, Mother Superior. Please, don't deny Killian the ability to give money to the orphans. He has a good heart and he thought you wouldn't accept the money if you knew where it came from."

Mother Superior smiles kindly at Emma.

Jones' Home

Tink is startled by a knock on the door and she goes to answer it. August Booth stands there with a smile on his face.

She locks eyes with him. "What do you want?"

"Is Emma home? I would like to apologize for my behavior."

Tink stares. "And you think it's proper for you to come looking for Emma and not ask for her husband to be present?"

"I owe Emma an apology, not the Pirate," he shrugs nonchalantly. "Could you please fetch her."

"I'm not the maid. And you should apologize to both Emma and Killian. All of you rich people think you're above Killian, but you did something Killian would have never ever done or had the need to. I'm sorry your wife lied to you but you're not the only victim here. She hurt Emma and Killian as well. To be honest, I don't think Emma is ready to see you." She slams the door in his face.

August stands in front of the door, reeling from what the girl had said. Not a lot of women would have talked to him like that. His position would have warranted him special treatment, but this girl didn't care who he was.

He decides to leave before she comes out to lecture him more. He feels dirty and ashamed.

Sometime later Emma arrives home just before her father arrives with an update. Emma is not happy to hear from her father's lips that Killian doesn't want her to go see him. She'll give him a piece of her mind when she sees him.

The last visit is from Cora to let her know she paid the Sheriff a visit and gave him an ultimatum. She assures Emma that he will take it.

That night, Emma finds comfort in the fact that she will see her husband soon.

~~~

After her visit with the Sheriff, Cora summons Malcolm. She tells him that he needs to finish his job before he leaves. He cannot stay if he values his freedom.

Malcolm meets Milah near the fields of the Booth Estate as she makes her way back home from her visit with the healer. He knows her well. He startles the horse which jumps and throws her off. She lays on the ground grabbing her stomach. "Malcolm, what are you doing?" she hisses.

Malcolm locks eyes with her. "My job." He presses his foot on her stomach.

Understanding dawns on Milah's face. Cora's words. In a perfect world you'd be dead.

"Wait-" she gasps, "the baby, it's a Booth."

Malcolm pauses for a second then resumes his attack. It must be a trick, a last resort for pity.

Once her life is gone he picks her body up and carries it to the horse and heads back to the Estate.

August can't get the blonde girl out of his mind. She has a fire that calls to him. He shakes his head. Last time he thought along the same line his heart got broken.

His thoughts are interrupted when he sees Malcolm walking beside his horse. The horse appears to be carrying a body. As the man gets closer it's easy to see who it is: Milah. He stays away.

Malcolm tells Cora about the mention of a baby. He swears it was a trick, but Cora asks him to get the doctor.

Sadly the doctor confirms the death of both the child and mother. Her grandchild. She's killed her son's child.

Malcolm decides it's his time to leave, Cora had given him his payment. He left, but not before telling her he was going to Port Hook to secure transport on a ship. He asks her to go with him.

~~~

Graham arrives at the Nolan's with a piece of jewelry and news of the doctor, and David informs them of what Emma had told him about Malcolm Peters.

Snow recognizes the piece. It was one she stopped wearing some years back, but it was one of a kind. Brennan had gifted it to her when she announced her pregnancy.

The question was simple: why kidnap Emma?

Who had to gain from her disappearance? Snow keeps wondering. If Emma is correct, Milah makes sense, but would the Booth steward do something like that for her?

The only person with power is Cora and the jewel belonged to her.

Snow remembers how desperate she was to find Emma. She asked Cora for help and in exchange, she wasn't supposed to reveal that Killian was Brennan's son.

That's the only thing that makes sense. Emma also said that she was not meant to be harmed. It was a scare tactic.

Ingrid and Elsa keep Snow company while the men try to get Killian out of prison. Graham had made a comment that Nottingham is not a man to be trusted and that he has heard rumors of people wanting to get rid of him.

Snow wonders if Cora is somehow behind the arrest of her son-in-law. If not Cora, it has to be August. He was the only one angry enough to pull something like this.

~~~Next Day

Emma wakes up earlier than normal to go to the convent. She is nervous and excited. It's thrilling to sneak around to go visit her husband. She wastes no time and dresses quickly and sneaks out before Tink and Rufio wake up. They are taking their job in keeping an eye on her too seriously. They both claim that would be the number one order from Killian. To keep her safe.

She arrives at the Convent soon enough and she is guided to one of the rooms to change. It is odd to be wearing the habit once more. She is sure to put on the veil. She hopes that the Sheriff doesn't notice her. Once they arrive at the prison, Mother Superior tells her to stay in the back so she is not visible.

Sheriff Nottingham greets them as soon as they arrive and he sends one of the guards with them.

The nuns split up and the guard keeps his attention on Mother Superior. She smiles at the man. "My girls are only going to hand out food and blankets. How dangerous can that be?"

The man gives them space. Emma distances herself from the group. She really hopes she is going the right way, something tells her she is. When you love someone you just know.

She walks to the last cell. It is dark and dirty. She approaches the bars. "Killian," she calls out as softly as she can.

The movement from the back of the cell catches her eye. A figure slowly approaches. "Emma, what are you doing here? I asked your father to not bring you."

Emma rolls her eyes. "As you can see, my father didn't bring me, the Lord did. And I don't listen, I never do."

He quirks a brow, and takes her in. She is wearing a nun habit. "Why are you wearing that?"

"The Sheriff didn't allow me to come see you. I had to see you. I needed to know you were alright."

"Love, I just want you to know that I'm innocent. I love you."

"I love you too, I miss you terribly. Tink and Rufio are driving me crazy!" she laughs.

"Yet, you're here without them. I will have words with them."

"No, Killian. This was the only way I could think of to get in here to see you."

"Love, be careful. You need to stick with Tink. I hope this is the last time you sneak away from them. I worry about you."

"I promise I'll take care of myself and I'll wait for your return."

"Emma, you have to consider that my return may not be possible."

"Well, I'm not giving up. No one is. We are getting you home. Cora will help."

"Love-"

"Don't say it-" she raises her hand.

"Sister, Emma. Sister."

"I have to go, but this is not over. I don't care what I have to do."

Killian stares as she walks into the dark hall leading her out.

Bloody hell.

~~~

The men are actively working together to overthrow the Sheriff. Graham had mentioned an old friend wanted to end the Sheriff's reign of terror. His beloved had experienced it first hand. They were tired of the poverty that man pushed upon the lower class. Nottingham is a greedy man but he still has one weakness. Marian Locksley. The one that got away. The one that chose another man. His pride would be the end of him.

Snow decides it's time to confront Cora, her oldest friend, and Cora welcomes Snow with open arms. After all, she does have to deliver the news of Milah's passing.

As soon as they are alone in the office, Snow can't keep quiet any longer. "You had my daughter kidnapped? Why, because of a secret?"

Cora stares at her with wide eyes before she can deny it.

Snow throws the piece of jewelry Hyde had in his possession.

Cora sighs. "I meant the girl no harm. I had to find a way to motivate you into staying quiet. In the end, the secret was revealed regardless."

"My daughter was just a pawn to you. You could have simply asked me to keep quiet."

"Snow, we both know you cannot keep a secret. It was a desperate move. I was just trying to protect my son."

"I may not know Killian that well, but he couldn't care less about your money."

"Please accept my apology. I will make things right. I'm helping Emma get her husband out of prison."

"And you think that makes it alright?"

"I haven't even mentioned your niece's horrible behaviour."

"Oh, Milah will be dealt with."

"Snow," Cora's face changes for a second. "About Milah, I'm afraid she had an accident and she is gone."

"She had an accident?"

"Yes, I was going to send word to you but you arrived."

"What kind of accident? I want to see her, and please don't pretend like you cared for her. You hated her."

"Doctor Whale is going to send a carriage to pick up her body, for now it is in her room."

"I still want to see her," Snow said. "She is my family."

Cora nods and escorts Snow to the room.

Snow gasps as she sees the body of her niece. She is so still and it's so surreal. Milah was full of life and now it's gone. The tears flow. How is she going to tell David?

"I'm really sorry, Snow. You have to believe me. If I had known about the baby, I would have made sure she was taking care of herself."

"Baby?" The one word makes August's presence known. He had been standing silently in the door entrance.

"She was with child?"

"I'm sorry, son. I meant to tell you."

"Did you do this? Did you hurt her to make her pay for her behavior?" Snow asked. "Like you had Emma kidnapped to keep me quiet?"

August turns to his mother. "Oh my god, you had Emma kidnapped? Milah was found by your right-hand man, Malcolm. What have you done?"

"Oh please, son. Get off your high horse. Tell Snow that you had her son-in-law arrested, your brother, all because he had the misfortune of meeting your wife first. And before you try to deny it, I had a talk with the Sheriff and he wouldn't release him when I asked because he thinks he has a better ally, and you're the only one that fits the description."

Snow scoffs. "You two deserve each other. I cannot believe there was a time I considered you both family." Snow storms out.

"I'm nothing like you, Mother." August spits the words like venom as he shakes his head and leaves as well.

Cora stands alone. Port Hook is starting to sound more appealing. Her son is as stubborn as his father. He will not forgive her.

August has never felt more sick. His mother had Emma kidnapped. She kept his brother from him. Yes, he still feels betrayed. Milah, oh how he loved her. She is gone, her and their child. His mother made sure of it. She didn't even deny it. The girl, Tink, had said his actions were beneath Killian. The pirate captain with the dastardly reputation was a better man than him. His brother. He had to make things right. Be the best man he could be and perhaps someday he could have a brother.

~~~

Marian Locksley waits for Sheriff Nottingham. She sits patiently in his office while he is no doubt torturing the inmates.

The Sheriff's surprise is evident when he notices her in his office. "Marian, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She simply smiles but doesn't respond.

"Does your husband know you are here?"

"Yes, Robin knows I'm here. Now the reason for my visit is simple. I'm here to tell you that you're out. You are no longer Sheriff of Misthaven."

"Oh Marian, you have no power to do so."

"Keith Nottingham, did you really think no one knew of your disgusting indiscretions? How you take advantage of all the women that walk through your door? These women are so desperate to see their husbands freed, they are willing to do anything. They share your bed in exchange for their husbands' freedom and in order to keep their secrets, you blackmail them to continue. Let me tell you, it wasn't unnoticed."

He looks at her with sheer hatred. "You know, you are not as desirable as you once were. The years have not been kind to you. I've shared my bed with women who are breathtakingly beautiful like you once were. Now you are only an old hag."

"Yes, the years have not gone unnoticed, but those years? I would not trade them for one second with you. Now tell me, what deal did you make to get your hands on Captain Jones?"

"That doesn't concern you."

She pulls out a pistol and aims it towards him. "Actually, it does, because he helps the people. The orphans and all the people you like to step on. Why do you think you never had any proof to arrest him?"

"Guards!" he calls out.

"I'm sorry, no one is coming to save you. They're not your men."

The pistol goes off and from that distance, it is a fatal shot.

In the end, many changes came.

Killian was freed upon the death of Sheriff Nottingham, and August Booth confirmed to the town that the charges weren't valid. Killian was once again home with his beloved wife. Growing up an orphan had made him believe he would never have a family of his own. But now he has a wife he adores. Family and friends he never thought were possible. And, he was not the only one that found a family.

Killian and August were able to move past their issues. With Milah's death, Killian's brother was able to see past his anger and remorse set in. After realizing the depth of his treacherous behavior and making amends, he eventually found a surprising match with Tink.

Rufio was welcomed as an addition to the Jones crew. In fact, Captain Jones had taken Rufio under his wing and is teaching him how to sail.

Cora had found her way to Port Hook just in time to board the ship with Malcolm Peters. The two were never seen again. Then again, the ship never made another port.

Misthaven found a new Sheriff, one that was honorable, Captain Nemo. He'd fallen in love with the small town and never left.

Archie and Ingrid fell in love. Liam and Elsa moved to Misthaven and live a few houses from them. Graham too decided to give up his lonely life on the outskirts of Golden Cove and moved back to Misthaven. Eventually, his old friend Snow introduced him to the woman who would become his wife.

There's also one more addition that is coming in a few months…

Blonde hair dances in the salty sea wind. A small hand gently caresses a swollen belly. The woman's glowing smile gets bigger as she sees the sails of her beloved's ship fast approaching. "Your papa is home, little bean."

This is their happy beginning.

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked@profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87@snowbellewells@hollyethecurious@kymbersmith-90@branlovestowrite@thejollyroger-writer@shireness-says​@ilovemesomekillianjones​@thisonesatellite@thesschesthair@winterbythesea@stahlop@resident-of-storybrooke​@superchocovian@lfh1226-linda@artistic-writer​@thislassishooked@shardminds@winterbaby89@xhookswenchx@ultraluckycatnd@gingerchangeling@laschatzi@wellhellotragic@xemmaloveskillianx@courtorderedcake@pirateherokillian@optomisticgirl@darkcolinodonorgasm@sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426​

[thehobbycollector]

The Seer & The Wolf - Ch. 5

Part II – Orynth

             Kestra stood atop the city wall, watching the sunrise paint the Plain of Theralis in blood and gold. A spring wind, warm by Terrasen’s standards, fluttered through her hair, setting the purple and honey locks dancing. Even two months after the siege, the field before her was still churned and torn up, but at least all the bodies had been cleared away. There were still pyres burning on the edge of Oakwald, fueled by the Queen and her Consort, clearing away the last physical remnant of Morath. The other traces of Morath would take longer to wash away: the fear, and pain, and loss. She had worked hard these last ten years to help the people of this city, her city, recover from Adarlan’s initial invasion. And she had continued that work these past two months, trying to help put everything back together. She hadn’t had a chance to think about anything beyond that.

             Everything and nothing was different. Maeve was dead, killed by the Queen of Terrasen and three of Maeve’s own warriors who had, essentially, defected. A healer had destroyed an ancient evil. And somehow, both Kestra and the Wolf had claimed the same kingdom, the same city as home. Had been living in this city for two months now without crossing each other’s paths, even though they had managed several near misses over the length and breadth of the world during the past 100 years. It was incredible. It was absurd.

             Kestra had no idea what to do about it. She had never really given much thought to what she would do if the danger of Maeve was no longer hanging over her head. If she was honest, she had assumed that hiding from Maeve would simply be her life. No matter how often she dreamed of killing her, she had never thought it would happen. She took a deep breath, and let it out, turning away from the wall to head for the steps leading to the street level. She didn’t have time to figure it out right now.

             Even though Kestra had spent these past twenty-five years running an orphanage – Orynth’s Home For Unclaimed Children, affectionately dubbed The Wolf Den – after the battle had ended, she’d found herself managing the Orynth City Guard. No one had appointed her to the position, but when word had come in that Captain Marrin had fallen during the last day of the siege, none of the guards had stepped up, so she’d simply taken over. Temporarily, of course. Though, no one had come to check on the guard, and she had no intention of going to the castle to ask if the current situation was acceptable. Maybe that made her a coward.

             She reached street level and headed towards the barracks as two people flanked her. Cassidy and Payden, twins, were two of her charges at the Den. The guard had lost so many during the fighting that she had started boosting their numbers with members of the Pack – what the kids under her care called themselves. Anyone over the age of 16, who had the appropriate weapons training, had been conscripted into service. She’d had to move them into the barracks too, to make room at the Den for all the kids who had lost their parents during the war. Fortunately, she personally oversaw the training of all of her charges, so she had plenty who qualified.

             “Anything to report from the Den this morning?” she asked the girls.

             “Cora said that three of the new kids had nightmares last night. But your order to pair off the younger ones with the older ones has helped,” responded Cassidy.

             “Good,” Kestra murmured. “Cora works too hard.”

             “Emmet mentioned that a few of the older guards were spouting off at one of the taverns last night,” Payden added.

             “Did he say who?”

             “Wade, Rayden, and Torc.”

             Kestra grimaced. “Those three are a pain in my ass. What were they saying?”

             “The same old anti-Fae bullshit.”

             “Can’t you kick them out of the Guard or something?” asked Cassidy.

             “No,” Kestra sighed. “Since I’m not officially captain I can’t do much more than I already have.” Which hadn’t been much.

             “What if they go report you to the castle?” Cassidy sounded worried.

             Kestra laughed, “If those three idiots go up to the castle spewing their complaints, they’ll deserve what they get.”

             The three of them entered the barracks of the City Guard as the sun started peeking over the roofs of the city. The barracks was a large square building with an open, center courtyard of packed dirt. Sleeping and bathing rooms on the left, kitchen and smithy in the back, offices and armory on the right. The courtyard was used as the training yard. The weapons master was already barking orders at several guards working through their morning routine. Cassidy and Payden peeled off to start their own morning workout as Kestra headed toward her office.

             When she stepped through the door, she found another Pack member waiting for her. Asher was fourteen, not old enough to enter the Guard, per her orders. But he had still offered up his services, along with most of the Pack over ten. She would have rather kept all the younger kids off the streets, safe at the Den, but she knew if she ordered them to stay home, she would have a tiny riot on her hands. So now, she had a network of pint-sized messengers.

             “Morning, Asher.” She took her sword off her back and set it on the desk, before dropping into her chair. “Bit early for messages, isn’t it?”

             “Morning, Kes. It’s from Lord Darrow,” he passed a piece of parchment to her across the desk.

             “You’re running messages for Darrow now?” she lifted a brow. “How did that happen?”

             “Since Evangeline is officially a Lady now, he pulled her off of messaging and put her in the library for tutoring.”

             “I bet she loved that,” Kestra muttered as she opened the message. During the siege, Darrow’s young ward had proved innovative and invaluable by organizing the kids sheltering in the castle to help run messages and restock supplies for the healers.

             “Not even a little,” Asher snickered.

             Kestra read through the message that was, indeed, from Darrow. Requesting two of her charges as handmaids for Lady Evangeline. She mulled over the request for a moment before pulling out two fresh pieces of parchment, one for a reply to Darrow, the other for a message to Cora. As she wrote she said, “He wants handmaids for Evangeline. Who do you think she would like best?”

             Asher thought it over for long enough that she knew he was taking he request seriously. She finished the messages and waited for his reply. “Rose and Briar.”

             “Why them?”

             “Because if she wants to get in trouble, she won’t have to sneak away from them. They’ll be in the thick of it with her, but also keep her safe. And Rose can help her with her studies, since she’s really smart and reads a lot.”

             Kestra smiled at him and handed him the messages. “That’s what I thought too. Let Cora know I’ll be over tomorrow to evaluate their training.”

             When he had disappeared through the door, Kestra pulled a pile of paperwork toward her and started reading through watch schedules, supply requests, and a myriad of other headaches that went with this position she didn’t have.

[spearcast]

SO  i finally finished the Roz Rundown as i’ve been calling it, the general correct timeline and story lines of Roz as to where i’ve gotten here. i’m putting it under the cut. she LONG so if ya’ll read this i apologize

Born alongside her twin sister on Tatooine to mother Yvait Pabura. Roz is born with yellow eyes like her father. Both twins have their mother’s brown hair. Lyn, however, has regular brown eyes. Both have sharp canines.

THE DEFINING INCIDENT;  at the age of four, Roz kills a Zygerrian slaver with the Force in defense of her and her sister, and Force-chokes another in defense of her new adopted togruta mother, Roxxa Vela. Her birth mother killed the Zygerrian slaver with her slugthrower rifle and buried both of them in the sandy yard away from the farm.

When Roz turned eight, four years after said defining incident, Luke Skywalker showed up on their doorstep. Well- in reality, he had been showing up on the Pabura farm’s doorstep and talking with Yvait, and visiting the children. It was just that at eight, Yvait gave both Roz and Lyn the option to go with Luke and train at his Jedi temple on Dantooine. Lyn was unsure, and hesitant; ultimately, the “elder” twin declined and wished to stay with her mothers all year round. Roz, however, at the pushing of her best friend Jhoren and the encouragement from Luke himself, jumped at the chance to train with the legendary Skywalker.

Roz trains with Luke and the other padawans until she’s 12. Through these years she returns to Tatooine every other season so she can still keep close with her family. She’s transported by friends of the Harsh family (Yvait’s mother’s family), the Taaks- Nesota, T’seri, and their hybrid daughter Tabiit. This creates a bond between the Taaks and Roz, especially as Tabiit becomes sort of an older sister to the girl.

The year that Roz is 12 is the year Ben goes fucking crazy. “Canon” says he didn’t kill anyone, but in actuality he did. The transformation from Ben Organa-Solo into Kylo Ren is a bloody one, and Roz stumbles out of her hut to be greeted by the dead bodies of her fellow students, everything in flames, the Knights of Ren, the three or so remaining padawans at Ben’s side, and Ben- with his hands bloody and his lightsaber reddening, extending those bloody hands to her. He asks her to trust him and come with her, where she’ll be safe. And she almost takes his hand but after feeling the rush of cold come off of him and the others she turns and jumps into the ocean despite not knowing how to swim. She manages to survive despite being hurled against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff; she gets herself into an eroded alcove and only after she feels the lot of them leave, begins climbing the steep steps that lead her back up. Luke is distraught, sobbing, screaming at the bodies of all of the fallen- when he senses Roz, and goes to her, and the two embrace and cry and mourn and he promises her he’s going to get her to safety. He’s going to get her home. In his hidden escape ship he calls Leia and Han, he calls Yvait, he calls Nesota for back up just in case those who did this to his temple return.

They’re just leaving Dantooine’s atmosphere when his ship is attacked by Alrai Kal’eeb, Roz’s biological father, and his crew of pirates and slavers. The Order is offering big money to anyone who can find any force sensitive kids and bring them to Snoke (and his new pet). Luke will always define this as his final great failing- after failing all of the padawans at his temple, he feels he failed Roz by not saving her from her father’s clutches.

Alrai Kal’eeb being a stupid, ugly man doesn’t realize as he and his buds are jetting away from Luke’s damaged ship that the Amazon and the Taaks family are there to kick ass and take names. In the skirmish while the ships are connected, Tabiit finds Roz and rescues her and carries her back to the Amazon where they disconnect with Nesota and T’seri and flee to safety. (T’seri goes back for Luke in their personal ship and takes Luke to where Leia and Han are.) Roz, after going back to Tatooine to her family who is crying and so, so happy she’s safe, decides to fly with the Taaks for a little while and offer her service to them for saving her life. They agree, also because staying in one location would draw too much attention and they don’t want the Order to track her down. At fourteen, two years later, they return to Tatooine so Roz can go back to her family.

This is a mistake though! If only because that’s when Roz stumbles upon her farm under siege by the Order. Ren and Hux and Phasma are at the helm for the first times in their lives in the Order and they’ve got Roxxa and Yvait tied up and on their knees before Ren and Hux. Lyn is nowhere to be found. Hux ends up shooting both Roxxa and Yvait and Roz does the smart, terribly scarred thing to do and runs back to the Taaks.

Roz transforms. She is no longer Roz Nuun Pabura. She is now Roz Sunborne. The Taaks take care of her and Roz stays with Tabiit when she pairs up with an old friend, Corellian and Mandalorian bounty hunter and space pirate, Rhys Th’on. The trio bond and help each other. It’s within the next two years that Roz also is gifted the Taaks’ family heirloom connected to the Force- the lava crystal lightsaber belonging to their great grandmother Aremna Taaks, who was a Jedi but left the Order bc she wanted a FAMBILY. (Aremna Taaks may or may not be a technical sister or cousin of Ahsoka Tano.) The lightsaber calls to her and Roz /loves/ it. This is in addition to the one she built at Luke’s temple (the one with the krayt dragon pearl as the crystal which is a silvery-yellow color).

Roz needs a teacher! So she, Tabiit, and Rhys search out the vibes Roz is getting and they meet up with Ahsoka Tano, Sabine Wren, and Ezra Bridger. Roz has THREE teachers. Well, two technically, but Sabine loves her and teaches her what she can because fuck it. Fuck it. Roz gets to be trained by the coolest motherfuckers. Die mad about it if you’re mad about it. This info will most likely shift a little when the Ahsoka & Sabine Hunt Down Ezra show eventually comes out.

Roz is 17 when she starts hunting down Kylo. She’s still 17 when she decides to join the Order for a bit after dabbling with the Resistance also. She is technically a double agent via Leia’s orders but she still is doing it for selfish reasons.

It’s a stint of a year and a half with the Order before she gets hit with reality and accidentally kills Kosmik’s aunt and is only praised for it by Kylo. This disturbs her greatly! So deeply! It’s after this that the Siege of Quarzite happens and while at first Roz is like !!!! FUCK YEA it’s then revealed the Order wanted to essentially kidnap the Kage people because of their prowess as warriors and turn them into enslaved soldiers. Roz is like oh wow I fucked up!! In this time she starts getting really strong with the Force and almost rips some of the Knights of Ren apart during training the last time before she yeets out of the Order. Kylo is like… she’s just fucking mad it’s whatever. OG Ren Ren (aka original Ren?? I’ve only read a little about him but he seems interesting and weird I like him) is like… nah man she’s Different. (This would be the spot in the story where it’s starting to hint at Roz being the descendant of Revan.)

She kills her dad somewhere in that year and a half also. That story is really good and it’s when she’s found by Tabiit and Rhys before Kylo finds her and it’s. It’s good. Roz’s patricide is actually meaningful and not horrible and it’s a moving on point. It’s one of the reasons she starts becoming herself rather than living in Kylo’s shadow still. Baby’s growing up.

Roz leaves the Order! She’s so fucking lost! There’s a funny story in here somewhere where Hux actually assists in her escape because he a) hates her fucking guts and b) wants to see Ren suffer and c) is almost completely sure she has none of the Order’s information which is……. Wrong. But. She doesn’t have enough info to stop what happens in TLJ I guess. Might rewrite some stuff. But this is also where her story starts pulling away from the main line. Roz really doesn’t want to associate with Kylo ever again, she hates him a lot more than she could ever love him, and she just gets ANGRIER but she gets angrier with a PASSION and a FIRE and an UNDERSTANDING of how she feels. No more vague feelings and no more wanting to save him.

She’s like 19-20 when she gets a vision of her Aunt Cora (her dad’s sister, Kage warrior mama) and also of a woman who may or may not be Shmi Skywalker reminding her that Jhoren is on Tatooine and that he needs help breaking the slave trade once and for all. She calls in anyone she’s met within the past years- which, again, somewhere in there the Amazon gets her crew and is joined by Khorde Khell and his ships (the Tuskat Retribution, the Revenant Concordia, and the Zakkeg Bolide) as well as gathers the Teal Squadron and the like; somewhere in there she meets and loves up on Miss Badass Senator of Coruscant Lenore Baccre Moorheart and also somewhere in there dearest Lenore becomes a FORCE to be RECKONED WITH (Padme would be proud mama ILU so much).

The Crew Stage A Slave Revolt On Tatooine. They Kill A Lot Of Slavers. They Kill A Lot Of Hutts. Goodbye Hutts. Tatooine Belongs To The Sand People Now. And The Criminals. And The Slaves Most Of All Because They Are Not Slaves Anymore. Fuck You Star Wars Tatooine Has No More Slaves. There Was No Bargain Bitches!!!!!!

Uhhhh also Roz gets really fucked up when Luke dies. She feels it in her bones. She gets kinda confused when Kylo dies tho. She’s like…. Yay? But Also??? Screaming??

When Luke dies Roz has a meeting with his force ghost on Tatooine during a binary sunset because I’m emo. That’s Her Dad. Like Her Real Dad. Fuck that other guy. But also Roz is like wait have you blue hallucinations always been force ghosts??? And Luke is like ALWAYS?? Turns out Roz’s special connection to the Force is being able to talk really easily with the Force ghosts!! Fuck those 5 minutes Rey had with all of them- Roz even talks to ANAKIN even though she doesn’t realize who it is. She talks to him a lot, actually. (They’re very similar okay??? OKAY??? I know it’s super OP but let me live, she’s Special alright, she’s my Special Little Baby Who Talks To Ghosts And Kills Things)

So like… she helps the Resistance return the Kage to Quarzite where they create their own happy peaceful empire, she reunites with Lyn because Lyn doesn’t die in this one!! Haha retcon. We still kill their moms tho sadly. But like!! Yay the Galaxy is at Peace!! Oh ALSO Roz is the descendant of Ancient Sith Lord Darth Revan and Badass Bitch Bastila Shan. Roz is like IDK who those people are but cool cool I guess.

Then she returns to the Temple on Dantooine and discovers the ruins of the Jedi Enclave and finds a MASK and turns out Roz is haunted cause she gets fucked up by all of the Force Ghosts who tell her some SHIT is coming but she’s like ???? Why?????? Everything is PEACEFUL why can’t it STAY peaceful???

And then BAM Sith Lord Hyaljenasha “Yaljen” sith pureblood who has been frozen for thousands of years (was around when Revan was around, just not powerful then) and when he awakes he’s like….. That’s a Revanchist force signature singing if I’ve ever FELT one! And he’s like…. Obsessed with Roz a little but he wants to train her

He’s got novitiates which are like his apprentices but he’s so technically old (even tho physically he’s closer to Roz’s age, so like between 22 and 27) that he doesn’t believe in the rule of two lmfao. He’s got Nevtay Strake who’s an Umbaran force sensitive, she’s a snooty bitch who wants everything to burn. He’s got Johaale Garnak who’s Chiss and unfortunately not force sensitive, but they’re a boss ass motherfucker who knows how to fight with weapons especially a lightsaber. They’re cool. Like. Chaotic neutral. Not even evil wtf. He’s also got Carnhea Wellew, a twi’lek woman who is supposed to be a juxtaposition to Roz- they’re very similar, Carnhea has been through some shit and is angry because of it and she needed direction with her immense force abilities. Yaljen is that direction for all three of them! They Love Him a lot and are Way Too Attached to him and while he cares about them also he kinda becomes one-track-minded when Roz Revandescendant comes into play cause he’s like…. Whew…. Wipe me off the face of the GALAXY please. Lemme teach you. Please.

The reason they’ve gone undetected since Yaljen’s awakening is bc he was like…… WOW the force is fucked up now. It wasn’t this fucked up when I went under. We gotta lay low. Gotta literally keep the Force close to the chest here. So they fly under the radar! Amazingly enough!

This is where I’ve gotten. Roz and the crew are like….. HM….. Yaljen is very kinda scary and he has a hold on a lot of strings that we don’t know about but we can’t kill him outright bc he’s so powerful and has powerful darkside followers and also fuckin Johaale who’s a batshit talented motherfucker…

Roz is like. Teach? Him teach? I learn his secrets and destroy him? And everyone at first is like you just didn’t get to do that to Kylo so you want to do that to Yaljen but then they realize it’s probably for the best to wait it out until they can get like. HELP.

Roz has training stints with Yaljen. Yaljen sexy! Roz is like Hm. Yaljen adores Roz and is very patient with her and is very kind and reassuring and Roz is like HM.

Poe and Finn are also gay I’m making canon now. I say this because they appear sometimes! As the heads of the Resistance as it stands they interact quite a bit with all of the squad. Sometimes there are double dates with FinnPoe and Jhorhys (Rhys and Jhoren), sometimes triple dates including ChorZeebs. It’s cute!

IDK where to go from here so I’m just gonna…… leave this all here for now

[serpentupemotions-blog]

I’m With You |Sweet Pea x Cora Chase (OC)| 

Part One 

“Tell me you don’t, it feels like you do. Opening up can open some wounds.”

Cora Chase doesn’t really know what to expect when she moves back to Riverdale, only that it’s been thirteen years since she’s been gone and she wants to rebuild her relationship with her father. She definitely doesn’t expect to be thrown into a friendship with Sweet Pea, the boy looking for a job at her father’s auto shop.  

Warnings: In this part, only swearing. I will update the warnings with each part. 

Word Count: 4,500+

A/N: Thank you so much to @steve-harringtonnn for helping me with editing and planning and also for just listening to me talk about this fic almost constantly for the past couple weeks!

Cora kicks her legs up, placing her feet on one of the only empty spaces on the cluttered desk, crossing legs legs at the ankles. Leaning back, the old office chair creaks loudly, the leather covered arms cracked and peeling from years of wear. Straining, Cora stretches to reach for a pad of sticky notes, grasping them along with an old ballpoint pen.

‘Buy a new desk chair’ Cora scribbles on the paper, ripping it off and slapping it against the wooden desk before tossing the sticky notes and pen back somewhere amidst the mess of papers.

Cora looks around, taking in the state of the front office of Riverdale Auto Shop. It didn’t seem like it had ever been dusted, cobwebs draping from the exposed ductwork on the ceiling. Walls were covered in old license plates, photos of muscle cars, vintage metal signs for Coca-Cola, Harley Davidson, Esso and one overly sexualized woman advertising motor oil. Cora furrows her brows at the vintage ad, making a mental note to take it down once she found a hammer to rip the nails out. Her eyes land on a bowl of lollipops sitting on the edge of the desk, fishing one out and unwrapping it. Candy for any children that got dragged along with their parents to the auto shop, one could assume. The candy was long past the best before date based on the stale flavour and oddly tacky texture.

The jingle of the bell above the door draws Cora’s attention and she looks away from the Chevrolet clock that she had been staring at, attempting to determine if it was even still moving or not. Cora watches a tall guy step through the glass door, clutching a paper in his hands, stopping a couple feet into the office.

Cora takes the lollipop from her mouth, smiling as she watches him stand nervously halfway across the room her from her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, remaining planted where he was standing.

“Hi,” Cora says again, twisting the lollipop stick between her fingers as she waits for him to say something.

“I was coming in to ask about the job opening,” he says, evoking a slow nod from Cora.  

“Right,” she comments, swinging her legs off the desk and sitting up straighter. This was a place of business, after all.

He hesitates before taking a couple steps closer, fiddling with the paper he was holding in his hands. “Do I talk to you about that? I have my resume here.”

Cora extends her hand across the desk with a smile, taking the paper as he hands it to her. Turning it around to face her Cora leans back in the office chair, scanning over the document in her hands. “Nate,” she comments, glancing up when he shifts suddenly at the sound of his own name.

“Sweet Pea,” he says, his voice sounding uncertain.

Cora opens her mouth slightly to say something before shutting it again, narrowing her eyes at him, head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “What did you just say?”

“Oh,” he says quickly, “no, I wasn’t, like, calling you that or anything. That’s what people call me…Sweet Pea.”

Cora laughs softly and nods at his correction of her assumption. “That somehow went in an even weirder direction than I thought it was going to go,” she states, bemused, twisting the chair side to side as she stares up at him. Sweet Pea. “Why?”

“Just a nickname that stuck,” he mutters. “So, should I just leave that with you?” he asks nervously a few minutes later, gesturing towards the resume that she was still holding.

Cora sets the resume down on top of one of the many stacks of papers on the desk. “Sure,” Cora says while spinning around in the desk chair. Placing her hands on the desk top she stops herself from spinning to face him, “I don’t know if you can tell, but I don’t actually work here.”

“I, uh, okay. I figured. Should I come back later…or should I call the police, did you break in?”

Cora laughs and shakes her head. “Please don’t call the police, that would really inconvenience my plans to steal the Camaro they just finished working on.” Pushing the chair back she stands up and steps out from behind the desk. “Stay there, I’ll go get the guy you want to be talking to about this,” Cora says before pushing open the door that connected the office to the shop.

“Hey, dad,” Cora says, walking up to where her dad was standing, leaning over the open hood of an old truck with one of his employees. “There’s someone here asking about a job opening.”

He nods, grabbing a shop towel from on top of the nearby tool carts. His blue coveralls were covered in grease stains, the patch with ‘Joe’ stitched into it was barely hanging on anymore. Cora was pretty certain her dad, the owner of Riverdale Auto Shop, could, and should, get new coveralls. But Joe was low maintenance to the extreme and if the coveralls still fit, he was still wearing them. “And he stuck around even with you in the front office? Brave guy,” he chuckles and turns to walk through the shop towards the office.

“That’s sexist,” Cora says, trailing after him. “Why would you just assume that it’s a guy applying for the job? I said nothing to indicate that. Women can work in auto shops too, in fact, maybe you should focus on hiring women.” She walks through the door separating the office and shop after her dad. “I’m sure there’s lots of women in this town interested in cars, but it’s assumptions like the one you just made that make women feel like it’s weird for them to want to work in the automotive industry.”

When Cora finally stops talking both Sweet Pea and her dad were staring blankly, waiting for her to stop rambling before starting their own conversation.

“Sweet Pea, I didn’t know you were looking for a job,” Joe says, extending his hand and gruffly shaking Sweet Pea’s. “You must have just graduated, right? My daughter’s the same age as you, she just graduated too.”

“Yeah, I had my last day of classes two days ago,” Sweet Pea says, nodding. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

“That’s me, I’m his daughter,” Cora chimes in, walking back around behind the desk and flopping back into the office chair. “How do you two know each other?”

“Oh, I’ve known Sweet Pea since he first got his motorcycle. When was that? Did you even have an actual license then?” Joe stops to chuckle at the recollection before continuing with his story, “That bike needed more work than it was actually worth, but he was in love with that thing so he would come in after school and we would work on it together.”

“I couldn’t afford to pay anything so your dad made me feel like I was doing the work so I wouldn’t have to pay for it. I’m sure I was more trouble than I was help.” Sweet Pea chuckles, looking down at the ground with a smile on his face.

Joe claps his hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder. “Not at all. You were such a quick learner; a very hard worker. It’s been awhile since you’ve been around though.”

Cora forces herself to smile, to hide the sudden sense of sadness that washes over her. After her parents split she left Riverdale with her mom. She could still remember that day so vividly. Her mom had picked her up early from preschool with the car packed full of luggage, to go see grandma and grandpa her mom had said. Since that day Cora had seen barely seen her dad. Christmas visits, the occasional camping trip during the summers, spring breaks she would come and spend with her dad in Riverdale. Once she graduated Cora decided to move back to Riverdale, even though she barely considered it moving back since she left when she was only five. Cora had wanted to develop her relationship with her dad, but now she was overcome with the feeling that she may never be able to make up for all those years she lost out on.

“When can you start? You’ll be perfect for the job,” Cora hears her dad ask and she slowly stands back up, walking around the desk and towards the front office door, hoping to sneak away while they were still talking. “Cora, where are you going?”

Cora gestures towards the door, her keys and wallet clutched in her hands, still inching closer to it. “To explore Riverdale, I guess. I’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours so I should really go take in the sights. See what’s changed, what I missed out on all these years.”

Joe nods, smiling suddenly and waving his hand out in a gesture that signalled to wait for whatever more he had to say. “Sweet Pea could show you around, he-,”

“No,” Cora interrupts, shaking her head with wide eyes, trying to telepathically communicate for him to shut up. “No, I’m sure he doesn’t want to spend his afternoon showing me around this place. It’s not a big place, I can manage on my own.”

“I don’t mind,” Sweet Pea says, shrugging casually.

“You’re just saying that because you want the job. I will not be a pawn in your masterplan to secure yourself a job at this place,” Cora states dramatically. “But seriously, I can show myself around.”

“Cora, he’s offering to show you around, don’t be rude,” Joe warns. Maybe it was possible to make up for all those years of being gone after all, considering he was acting like Cora was still a kid.

Cora chuckles at the absurdity, shaking her head. “He’s not offering, you offered and he’s simply going along with it,” Cora says, receiving silent stares in response. “Fine,” she huffs, turning to look at Sweet Pea, “let’s go.”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Joe calls as Cora walks through the door, laughter evident in his voice. He had been enjoying treating Cora like she was still fifteen since the moment she got to Riverdale. When she had pointed it out she got the typical, “you’ll always be a kid to me” speech that parents seemed to be so fond of.

“So, where am I dropping you off?” Cora asks once she was in her car with Sweet Pea, turning the key in the ignition and pulling on her seatbelt.

“What?”

Shifting the car into reverse she backs out of the parking lot and onto the quiet Riverdale street. It seemed like most streets were like that in this town; quiet. The pavement was in desperate need of repairs, crumbling potholes scattered around the road. “Where am I dropping you off?” Cora repeats, glancing over at Sweet Pea. “Like, your house or a friend’s house, strip club, drug den, I don’t know what you’re into.”

“You don’t want me to show you around?”

Pulling onto the side of the road Cora shifts her car into park, shifting in her seat to face Sweet Pea. “I won’t tell my dad that you didn’t actually show me around, it can be our secret.”

Sweet Pea chuckles, shaking his head. “Did you have better plans that I’m interrupting? Because when I showed up at the shop it didn’t seem like you were doing anything exciting.”

“I’m sure you have better plans…and I don’t appreciate those judgments. Staring at that clock was beyond riveting.”

“Well if that’s your idea of riveting I’m certain I can show you a great time,” Sweet Pea says, fingers absentmindedly drumming against the door panel.

Cora can’t stop the giggle that bubbles past her lips. “Are you flirting with me, Nate?”

Sweet Pea clears his throat suddenly, shifting in his seat as his fingers stop moving on the door panel.

“Why does that bother you so much?” Cora asks curiously, her eyes searching his face for an unspoken answer.

Sweet Pea shrugs, turning his head to the side to look across the small distance of her car, eyes locking on Cora’s. “Nobody ever calls me that, it’s just weird.”

Nodding slowly at the explanation that seems to be just an attempt to brush off a real answer, Cora straightens back out in her seat. “Okay, Sweet Pea, where are we going then? If you’re going to show me such a good time.”

“Well we should definitely start at the strip club and then we can make a stop at the drug den,” Sweet Pea chuckles as he watches Cora unbuckle her seatbelt, the material sliding across her body.

“I knew it,” she laughs, wrapping her fingers around the door handle and pushing the door open. Stepping out onto the gravel of the side of the road the warm June sun beats down on Cora’s skin. Leaving the door open Cora walks around to the other side of the car, Sweet Pea quickly clueing in and hopping out as well.

“Have you had lunch?” Sweet Pea asks after he was situated back in the car, Cora in the passenger’s seat and Sweet Pea behind the wheel now.

“No,” Cora says, reaching over and pressing the button on the door panel to open the window. Cora reaches her arm out, forearm resting on the ledge of the window as the warm air whips against her skin.

“Then our first stop has to be Pop’s.”

Leaning her head back against the leather headrest Cora turns her head to look over at Sweet Pea. “Aren’t you hot?” she asks suddenly. Dressed for the prospect of a job interview, not for trekking through town on a hot summer day, Sweet Pea was wearing a long-sleeve black button-up, sleeves pushed to his elbows to try and escape some of the heat.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, glancing across the car momentarily before returning his eyes to the road. “I don’t know, am I?”

Cora laughs softly and shakes her head. “Shut up,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Seriously though, you’re going to end up with heat stroke or something.”

“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?” Sweet Pea asks, looking at Cora as he slows down before coming to stop at a four-way along the main road in Riverdale.

“Well excuse me for being concerned…put on some more layers, see if I care,” Cora laughs, the car rolling forward as Sweet Pea takes his foot off the brake, driving through the four-way stop. A couple minutes later Sweet Pea pulls into the parking lot in front of the diner. Whenever Cora came back to visit her dad they frequently ate at Pop’s, her dad’s lack of cooking skills made up for with meals at Pop’s. “Oh my God, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been to Pop’s,” Cora comments as she pushes the car door closed.

“You’ve been here before? So, I’m already doing a pretty terrible job showing you around,” Sweet Pea comments, holding the door open for Cora to walk inside ahead of him.

“You’re doing a great job,” Cora assures him, walking through the open door, thankful for the slightly cooler air in the diner. The diner was busier than she remembered it ever being before, most of the people seemed to be teenagers, escaping the heat of the summer day with their friends during summer break she would presume. Cora slides into to the vinyl covered booth near a window in the back corner, a waitress quickly coming by to take drink orders from Cora and Sweet Pea before hurrying on her way to the next table.

A silence falls over the booth between Cora and Sweet Pea. Cora shifts in her seat, picking up the chocolate milkshake and taking a quick sip, the glass clinking noticeably in the silence as she sets it back onto the table. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” Sweet Pea chuckles, raising his eyebrows as he waits for her to continue.

“Yeah,” Cora states, a smile on her face. “First, imagine the absolute perfect girlfriend…or boyfriend,” Cora hesitates, trying to read Sweet Pea’s reaction, receiving only a straight face. “Okay, so they’re perfect, except…they hate your friends. Do you make it and stay with them, or do you break it and dump them?”

Sweet Pea is quiet for a minute, staring at Cora expectantly. “That’s it? That’s the game?”

“Oh my God,” Cora groans, laughing as she leans back against the booth. “Yes, and you’re playing. So, what’s your answer?”

“Break up with her, I don’t want to deal with the shit that her hating my friends would bring.” Sweet Pea shrugs, taking the hint from Cora’s nodding that he was expected to come up with something for her. “He’s perfect except your family doesn’t like him.”

“Make it,” Cora says, voice a little quieter as her demeanour shifts momentarily, quickly regaining her bubbly self and continuing with the game without further explanation.  

Playing with the straw in her empty milkshake glass Cora leans against the back of the booth, looking across the table at Sweet Pea. “She’s perfect except she runs everywhere she goes, never walks.”

Sweet Pea chuckles, hesitating momentarily. “Make it.”

“Seriously?” Cora giggles, eyebrows raised. “That’d be exhausting!”

“We’d just have to stay home a lot,” Sweet Pea laughs, shrugging. “He’s perfect except the only movie he’ll watch is The Hangover.”

Cora ponders the suggestion for a moment. “Make it. We’ll just watch TV shows instead of movies…She’s perfect except she can only speak in rhymes.”

“Break it,” Sweet Pea says quickly, barely a moment of consideration, making Cora laugh in response. “He’s perfect except he’s terrible in bed.”

Clearing her throat nervously, Cora sits up straighter, fingers letting go of the straw she was playing with as she draws her hands closer to her body. They had been playing ‘make it or break it’ for the past half hour, Sweet Pea hadn’t been thrilled about it in the beginning but him playing for this long indicated he must have been having some fun with it. It had remained fairly innocuous up till this point, he never does the dishes, she never laughs at your jokes, he never lets you pick the music. “Does it make me seem like an asshole if I say break it?”

Sweet Pea smirks and shakes his head. “No, I think you saying you would break up with someone who always wears the same outfit makes you more of an asshole.”

“I don’t want to date a cartoon character,” Cora exclaims defensively, leaning against the back of the booth. “It’s too weird, buy a different outfit!”

“Can I get you two anything else? Refills?” The young waitress standing by the table draws Cora’s attention.

“No thanks, I’m okay,” Cora tells her, looking back to Sweet Pea for his answer.

Sweet Pea shakes his head, glancing at his phone. “No, could we actually get the bill, please.”

“Separate or together?”

“Separate,” Cora answers quickly, the waitress nodding before walking away from the table.

“I didn’t realize how long we’ve been here. I’m not a very good tour guide,” Sweet Pea chuckles, “but I have to get going, I’m meeting some friends out by Sweetwater River.”

The waitress returns with two bills, setting them down with a quick mention of paying at the till near the door before disappearing quickly again.

“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t actually need a tour, I think my dad is just trying to make friends for me,” Cora says with a smile. “Sounds like fun,” she comments on his plans, beginning to slide out of the booth.

“Do you want to come?”

Cora hesitates, looking over at him curiously. She had enjoyed the afternoon and hopefully Sweet Pea had too, but she wasn’t sure if it was just a kind gesture rather than a genuine offer. “No,” Cora shakes her head, “I’m not going to intrude on your plans with your friends.”

Sweet Pea stands up from the booth, picking up the bill from the table as he does so. The two of them walking down the row of booths in the direction of the door. “Is it intruding if I invited you?”

“Your friends didn’t invite me,” Cora points out, stopping and waiting by the counter as she looks up at Sweet Pea. “Go have fun tonight, sounds like you’re going to be starting a real adult life working at the shop soon, have one last teenage celebration of freedom.”

Turning to the waitress as she walks over, Cora pulls out her debit card from her wallet, paying for the bill and waiting for Sweet Pea to do the same. Together they head back out into the parking lot, the afternoon sun slowly sinking into the evening, the air still brutally warm against her skin.

“What are your plans? Do you have any real adult life plans?” Sweet Pea asks, walking beside Cora in the direction of her car.

“Plans?” she asks, as if the word was entirely foreign to her, a smile on her face. “Don’t have any right now. I’m going to see how long my dad can handle having me around,” she jokes.

“Try and stay on his good side,” Sweet Pea comments, getting back into the car with Cora. “It’s nice to have some new people in Riverdale.”

Cora smiles nervously, nodding quickly. “Yeah,” she mutters, swallowing hard as she starts the car. Her mind races through her Rolodex of easy to talk about topics. “What’s your favourite kind of car?” she asks, trying to figure out something to ask that would interest him enough to not question the way less-than-subtle shift.

Sweet Pea turns his attention to Cora, eyebrows furrowed slightly, clearly aware of the change in subject. “I’m actually more of a motorcycle guy,” he tells her.

Cora glances over at him as she drives down the main street of Riverdale, back towards the auto shop, grateful that he had accepted the change in topic. Turning her attention back to the road she listens to him talk about motorcycles, his motorcycle, the kind of motorcycle he wanted, his best friend’s motorcycle, not following anything he was saying, but enjoying listening to his enthusiasm regardless.

Shuffling into the kitchen Cora rubs her eyes tiredly, desperate for a cup of coffee. The sound of talking brings her to a halt, blinking a couple times to be sure she was seeing things correctly. Her dad was sitting at the small kitchen table, a plate with eggs and toast in front of him and Sweet Pea sitting at the table across from him, breakfast in front of him as well. “What’s going on?” Cora asks groggily, walking across the old linoleum floor to the counter where the coffee maker sat with a half-full pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” her dad chuckles, “Did you not sleep well? You look tired.”

“You’re not supposed to tell people they look tired, it’s like telling me I look like shit. I slept fine, by the way, I just need coffee.” Reaching into the cupboard she pulls out a faded yellow mug, filling it before turning around to face the kitchen table and leaning against the counter. “That doesn’t answer my question though, it’s seven in the morning, why are you here?” Cora asks, eyes on Sweet Pea.

“It’s Sweet Pea’s first day at work, I invited him over to catch up,” Joe answers for him, “please don’t be rude to our guest.”

“Your guest,” Cora replies with a smile, walking over and dropping down into the only chair left at the tiny table. “I would never invite guests over before ten.”

“Well some of us have jobs,” Joe says, and Cora’s eyes widen, a quiet laugh escaping as she glances at Sweet Pea.

“Is that a hint?” she jokes, looking back to her dad.

Joe chuckles, pushing his chair back and walking to the coffee pot to refill his mug. “No,” he tells her. “Though I’m sure you’re going to get bored eventually.”

“So, it was a hint,” Cora says with a smile, her dad shaking his head in defeat as he sits back down at the table. “Excited for your first day?” Cora asks, her attention now turned to Sweet Pea, sitting on the other side of her.

“Yeah,” he nods, bringing another forkful of his scrambled eggs to his mouth.

“I guess you have to say that with your boss sitting right there.” Cora takes a sip of her coffee, grimacing slightly. “Wow, I didn’t think it was possible for me to not like coffee,” she mutters, slowly lowering the cup back to the table while looking at the almost completely full mug sitting in front of Sweet Pea.

“What’s wrong with it?” Joe asks defensively.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink motor oil, even if you own an auto shop.”

Sweet Pea chuckles quietly and Cora looks over at him with a smile, the sound of him laughing at her joke making her feel inexplicably happy. “Have a good first day,” she says to Sweet Pea, pushing her chair back from the table, grasping the mug of coffee and carrying it to the sink, pouring the liquid down the drain before walking out of the kitchen.

Balancing the cardboard tray with three paper cups of coffee Cora pushes the auto shop door open, the bell above the door jingling as she makes her entrance. The desk was unsurprisingly empty but only a minute passes before the door between the shop and office opens, Joe was halfway through the door before he comes to a stop. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Scoffing playfully, Cora shakes her head. “Good to see you too, dad,” she laughs, walking over and lifting one of the cups from the tray. “I brought you coffee, it doesn’t taste like tar, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”

“Thank you,” Joe smiles, his eyes fixed on the two remaining cups in the cardboard tray.

“The other one is for Sweet Pea,” Cora tells him, her dad nodding with a knowing look on his face.

“Coffee break is in five minutes, you can go hang out in the break room and wait for him if you want.”

Taking her dad’s suggestion, she heads to the break room, a small windowless room with an old wooden table, covered in ring-shaped stains from years of coaster-less use. Not a single chair around the table matched, some were old office chairs, some were kitchen chairs, a couple plastic outdoor chairs. Décor was not Joe’s strong suit. Sitting down in a chair near the end of the table Cora takes her own cup of coffee from the tray, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip while she stares at her phone. Absentmindedly she busies herself with scrolling through Instagram till chatter in the hallway catches her attention and she looks to the door, watching the guys who worked for her dad stream into the break room. A slight smile spreads on Cora’s face when she sees Sweet Pea walk into the room, chatting with one of the guys who worked at the shop. Despite her dad introducing her to everyone who worked at the shop, Cora could no longer remember many of them, the many, quick introductions escaping her mind.

Sweet Pea notices Cora quickly, walking over slowly and dropping down into the chair beside her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Cora pulls the coffee out of the cardboard tray, setting it down in front of him with a smile. “I brought you a coffee…to make up for my dad trying to poison you with the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted this morning.”

Sweet Pea’s lips curve into a smile, looking at the cup of coffee in front of him. “Thanks,” he says, his voice surprisingly quiet as he looks back at Cora with an unfamiliar seriousness in his eyes, contrasting with the smile on his lips.

“Yeah, no worries,” Cora laughs nervously, unsure of his change in demeanor. “I should get going though, leave you to your first day camaraderie building,” she says with a smile, standing up from her chair and heading for the break room door. Before walking down the hallway Cora glances back over her shoulder, her eyes locking momentarily with Sweet Pea’s eyes. Giving him one last smile, Cora turns around to hurry down the hallway before anyone had the chance to notice the warmth creeping up into her cheeks.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! Part two should be posted next Thursday! 

[bobasheebaby]

ABC of Love- Olivia x Delphine

Pairing: Olivia x MC (romantic)

Word count: 875

Warnings: book one Olivia 

Summary: 3 short drabbles for @cora-nova alphabet of Love as requested by anon. (In canon Olivia tells MC she doesn’t date below her station if you tell her you’re more interested in her during the coronation ball, I’m moving that to the masquerade and the truth & dare with Drake, Hana, and Maxwell will also include Liam and Olivia.) drabbles range from 163 words to 299 words

A/N: I got a request for Olivia x MC and created Delphine Greer for Olivia I will occasionally take requests for this pairing. Olivia calls Delphine Della. My Delphine faceclaim is Melissa Benoit. No more book one Olivia, I miss my sweet yet sassy Liv I usually write, so keep that in mind when you request this pairing.

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my taglist. 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters I’m simply borrowing them for a bit. 

D - DRINKS & FOOD

[what cuisine they like to share and which one is only the preference of one of them but not the other one, cooking together time, which one of them is cooking and which is mostly the eater, cocktails on their liking, bars and restaurants they prefer to go on dating nights, food allergies they might have, which one is drinking and which one rather not, spices they like, comfort food of their choice etc.]

“What are you eating Della?” Olivia asked her face twisted in horror. 

Delphine smiled looking up at her scarlet duchess. “Beef jerky.” She held up the bright red pouch of teriyaki jerky. “Want a piece?”

“God no! I wouldn’t let anything like that ever cross my lips.” Olivia replied in disgust. 

Delphine shrugged her shoulders. “More for me then I guess.”

*

Olivia sat in her study, reaching into her desk drawer she pulled out a brown pouch. She reached in, pulling out a piece of tender dried meat popping it in her mouth. Her eyes closed as she hummed in enjoyment.

“Olivia!” Delphine’s voice broke her out of her reverie. 

Olivia’s eyes sprang open. “Della!” She looked down at the brown pouch sitting on her desk. “I can explain.”

“Oh I’m sure you can explain how you couldn’t believe I could enjoy beef jerky and then I catch you eating it.” Delphine said, hands on her hips lips pursed.

“I don’t like beef jerky. And especially not teriyaki this is hot bison jerky.” She reached into her desk drawer pulling out more brown pouches. “I also have venison, elk, alpaca, alligator and kangaroo.”

F - FIRST

[first time they saw each other, the first kiss, first time they’ve been together, the first dance they had, they celebrating the first Xmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa together etc.]

“Can someone please explain to me again why we are playing this juvenile game?” Olivia asked as she reluctantly sat on the floor of Delphine’s room at Beaumont manor.

“Because Hana hasn’t played and truth or dare is more fun the more people that play.” Delphine replied.

“Fine.” Olivia sighed. “But your secrets better be juicy.”

“Since you’re so against it why don’t you go first Livvy?” Drake question dragging out the y to annoy her.

Olivia rolled her emerald eyes. “Dare and make it good Walker.”

“I dare you to kiss someone beneath you.” Drake replied taking a sip of his whiskey.

Olivia scoffed. “Is that the best you’ve got Walker?” Her gaze drifted around the room. “Hana is actually well skilled so she’s at least a match. Maxwell is Maxwell and just no.” Maxwell sat back looking hurt, arms crossing his chest. “Liam is about to be king so he’s above me.” Her eyes darted between Delphine and Drake. “Fine I pick Delphine.” 

Drake scoffed unsurprised. 

Delphine’s heart raced. She’d had a crush on Olivia since they met at the masquerade to kick off the social season. Despite Olivia’s harsh words, I don’t date below my station, and her biting remarks throughout the social season she still found herself entranced with the scarlet beauty. Delphine moved to kneel in front of Olivia. She leaned forward, Olivia meeting her halfway, their lips softly pressed together. Delphine’s hand moved to cup Olivia’s cheek as their lips melded together, sparks of electricity shooting through her. 

Before Delphine knew it they parted, leaning back against their heels. Her lips tingled and her cheeks were flushed pink. 

Olivia looked away, trying to conceal her flushed cheeks. “Well it could have been worse. I could have kissed him.” She pointed at Drake.

“Hey!”

K - KIDS

[what are their thoughts regarding to the subject, what types of parents they are, parenting style, how did the days went when they were welcoming their babies into the world and/or into their family, where they stand regarding adoption and other alternative ways of having children etc.]

“I want a baby.” Delphine blurted out. It’s all she had been thinking about for weeks. She somehow felt lighter now that she’d admitted her longing for a child. 

“We seem to be missing a key part necessary in conceiving a child Della.” 

“Well yes.” Delphine said wringing her hands. She didn’t realize this conversation would be so hard, she was never nervous, but here she was, heart racing in her chest as she discussed having a child with her wife. Wife, it still didn’t seem real. She still couldn’t believe she’s managed to break down the walls of the scarlet haired beauty. “There are options.”

“Such as?” Olivia asked with a smirk.

She’s doing this on purpose. Damn her! “Well there is adoption, or we could use a donor.”

“Like I’m going to use some strange man’s specimen to make our child.”

Our child. Those two words made her heart swell. This entire awkward conversation was worth it just to hear her say those two words. “We don’t have to use a stranger.”

Olivia laughed. “There are precious few guys close enough to either of us that I’d trust to ask. Ever fewer still that I’d be willing to allow to father our child.” 

“Okay. Who?” 

“Liam, but obviously that’s out of the question. Olivia pursed her lips, thinking over those she knew. “Maybe Bastien.”

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[lacrossepapi]

Trials and Tribulations

This was supposed to be @mysenia prompt but it somehow turned into accidental child acquisition and mys’ maze prompt so here we are lol. I hope you still enjoy it and maybe someone else will go about the maze in the way you intended!  Ao3:Link                            Chapters: 1/1           Words: 5113

“Don’t touch him.” Stiles’ voice cut through the various sounds of demons and wolves clashing.

This demon lord had been in town for three days and Stiles was sick of the fear, of the blood, of the lonely nights filled with nightmares. The bastard had kidnapped Isaac, declaring that the wolf would be his mate and rule his kingdom in hell by his side. Personally, Stiles didn’t think that sounded too bad. They were all going to hell anyways, so why not get an early ride in exchange for being a king? He could fuck a not that bad looking demon lord for eternity in exchange for not being tortured. Nobody else saw it that way though.

The demon hummed, a thrilled, intrigued sound as his red eyes turned to Stiles.

“This one has power. You smell divine little mage.” The demon lord unceremoniously dropped Isaac from his clawed hands and gave Stiles his full attention.

All Stiles had to do was distract him long enough for Scott to get Isaac and Derek to round up the rest of the puppies, he could definitely do that.

“So you’ve finally figured it out? Yes, I am a mage. What does a mage have that a demon lord would want?” Stiles did not flinch when a clawed hand reached out to him, to caress or maim.

When his dark tipped fingers brushed an invisible wall the demon lord’s eyes widened with surprise and a bit of awe, a smile stretching across his inhuman face.

“Interesting. You’re stronger than you appear if your shield does not wither under my touch. You would be an excellent king, my love.” Several angry growls rose from behind Stiles making the man grin, a wicked thing full of teeth and malice.

“Best to watch yourself, my pack does not take those threats lightly.” The demon grinned back, the thrill of a chase seen clearly on his features before Stiles spoke again, “Now I am done with your flattery and your slaughter.”

He rose slightly off the ground, black veins bulging from under pale skin and silver eyes bright in the night, “Leave now, Abraxas, before I turn your demon horde to ash and your bones to dust.”

Stiles’ voice echoed through the clearing leaving no question as to if he could indeed burn a demon horde to the ground and take their lord with them.

The demon lord Abraxas watching Stiles for a moment longer before nodding, “I will remember you Stiles Stilinski and when you are killed I will claim your soul for eternity.”

“Well then if I die I’ll see you then. Now get out of my town.”

Where once there was fifty demons slobbering and drenched in blood there now only stood their lord, who gave one final wink before disappearing himself.

Stiles turned back to his pack, acutely aware that Kira had been gravely injured in the fight and did not heal as fast as the wolves. As he reached for her, hands glowing with healing light he took note of the rest of the pack. Erica and Boyd were huddled around Isaac, all three bleeding but fine. Scott and Derek were debating how to clean up the mess, while Allison and Lydia were watching Stiles with a look in their eyes he wasn’t ready to address. Cora and Malia were arguing about who took down the most demons, like the bad asses they were. Peter was leaning against a nearby tree trying to hide the fact that his arm was hanging half off his body, never one to admit to an injury. Stiles found himself chuckling despite the screaming girl beneath him, his pack would never change and he would always be here to take care of them.

Magical healing was never pretty nor relaxing, often being excruciatingly painful and all around a horrible experience. Stiles tried to only make them suffer through enough to keep them alive while their own healing kicked in, but with the less sturdy pack members he had to finish the job despite their screams and thrashing bodies. He hated it.

Stiles let Peter hide his injury until he could get the older wolf alone, knowing he’d never let the Scott or Derek see him so weak.

“Alright Zombiewolf let me see your arm.” Stiles demanded as he walked beside the older man at the end of the pack.

“I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, dear Stiles.”

“Oh really?” he knew it was a shitty thing to do, but if Peter was going to be difficult then so would Stiles.

He lifted his hand and grinned at Peter, “Give me a high five.”

“No thank you.”

“Alright, how about a low five?”

“How juvenile. I expected more from you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before stepping in front of Peter, making the older man come to a stop, “Peter, let me help.”

The werewolf sighed before offering his injured arm to Stiles.

“I put a silence charm around us so feel free to scream, cause this is going to hurt.”

-

Weeks passed with no missing citizens, no dead bodies, and thankfully no new monsters. The city of Beacon Hills was finally peaceful, and Stiles was bored. No fighting meant that Stiles was forced to face how broken and unhappy he truly was.

The end of the school year meant the pack was graduating and Stiles would have to say goodbye to the only people who’d ever really known him. He’d begun dreading the date as it slowly crept up on him.

A tan bear with a pink nose was spotted multiple times in one week, but since there was no dead bodies or missing persons it took awhile for Stiles to hear about the sightings. He quickly started interviewing the witnesses trying to understand why such an animal would be in Beacon Hills. He’d finally gathered enough information to definitely say a Canadian spirit bear was in Beacon Hills and most likely was a shifter, and brought his conclusions to the pack.

“What do you mean it’s a shifter?”

“How could you possibly know its a spirit bear?”

“What if it’s just a sick brown bear?”

“How do you know it’s a shifter?”

“Did you actually see it?”

Stiles’ frustration was rapidly increasing by the second until he finally snapped, “I know it’s a spirit bear because I used the process of elimination. I know it’s a shifter because when anyone tries to get a picture of it the eyes shine so bright it ruins the picture. And also the whole, spirit bears only live in the Canadian rainforest.”

Someone, most likely Peter, chuckled at his irritation.

“Okay. I believe you. Derek and I will go meet the shifter and see why they’re here.” Scott said with a grin, as if that would soothe the hurt of having to over explain himself just for the pack’s trust.

“I want to go. I love spirit bears and I’m pretty sure this one is a child.”

“It’s not safe for you to meet an unknown shifter. If it’s a child the parents could be coming at any moment.” Derek’s words made Stiles spin around to face the other alpha.

“Neither one of you knows jack shit about children and none of you know how to approach a bear without angering or spooking it.” Stiles demanded.

“I have a younger sister, Stiles.”

“How do you know how to approach a bear?”

Stiles sighed, dejected and aware he’d lost the fight regardless of what he said.

“Whatever. Just go and help the poor thing.”

The alphas nodded and took their leave, the loft suddenly becoming uncomfortably quiet.

“I remember taking hunter’s safety with you. The lesson on dangerous wildlife was always the best part wasn’t it?” Erica’s voice reminded Stiles he couldn’t dissolve into an angst puddle because the rest of the pack was still around him.

“And I remember you getting off the bus at the daycare every afternoon despite the fact that you were too old to be there.” Boyd offered, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles smiled at them, “Thanks guys. It’ll be fine.”

A quiet moment of tension before he shrugged, “Probably.”

-

The two alphas weren’t able to speak to the bear or get it to shift back, which won Stiles twenty bucks from Isaac. They decided to try again the next day, but Stiles couldn’t let the little thing spend another night alone in an unknown forest. After his father left for work Stiles stepped outside and started up the grill. He grilled salmon so the smell of fish would permeate the air around his house and played a recording of a black bear he’d found on the National Geographic website.

Stiles’ thought that he could lure the cub to his back yard was proven right when he heard the distinct sound of heavy paws approaching, his wards telling him a shifter was entering his yard. A pink nose pushed its way through the bushes, followed by a large blonde head with yellow eyes. The rest of the bear cub was larger than Stiles had been expecting, but still small enough he knew the poor thing was still growing.

Stiles averted his eyes and spoke clearly, “Hello. My name is Stiles, this is my house and you are safe here.”

He tossed a salmon to the bear, watching the cub quickly devour it. Stiles had feared the cub was straying near town because of a lack of food in the preserve, and his fears seemed justified as the cub quickly devoured a second one. Stiles started tossing the salmon closer and closer to his spot on the porch, coercing the cub to come closer. When the bear was close enough to touch Stiles slowly sat down and turn his head so that his eyes were down cast and his neck bared. A cold nose was shoved against his neck after a moment of silent tension. Another moment of crucial silence passed as Stiles kept his heart rate as slow as possible with a bear’s snout against his throat.

“Mama!” the voice suddenly crying out in Stiles’ ear made him jump, but didn’t surprise enough to stunt his reflexes as he quickly caught the toddler.

Stiles hushed him and rocked them both side to side as the little boy cried. They stayed like that for a long time, until finally the child stopped crying and seemed to have fallen asleep.

Stiles carried the little boy up to his room and held him close through the night.

-

The next day Stiles woke to a child snuffling against his neck.

“Good morning, little cub. Did you sleep okay?”

“I  miss mama.” the cub whined pathetically before nuzzling under Stiles’ chin.

“Do you know where she is?”

“Big, big bear tried to get us but mama said I had to run so fast and I did!” He smiled at Stiles.

“Yes you did little guy. I’m so proud of you. Have you seen your mama since?”

“No. She said to run until I found papa, but he was mean and didn’t like me, so i just kept on going.”

Stiles’ brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to connect the pieces. Did he just run away from a fight or did his father actually not want him?

“How did you know papa didn’t like you, buddy?”

“He told me I was never ‘posed to let my fingies and toesies come out. He talked real bad about mama too.” Stiles hugged the little boy closer.

Stiles held him tight until the little boy wormed his way out of his arms and asked, “Can I have more fish?”

“Yes you can! What’s your name little cub?”

“Jesse!”

After eating a real breakfast, which included more salmon, Stiles told Jesse all about each pack member and how nice and amazing they all were so the little boy wouldn’t be scared of them.

“You have to come here because I don’t have a carseat. How am I supposed to get a toddler to the loft in my Jeep without a carseat?”

“No she’s not a deathtrap, thank you very much.”

“Just hurry up and get here. He wants to meet you guys.”

Stiles sighed heavily.

Jesse hopped up into his lap, content to play with his hoodie strings until the pack arrived.

-

Scott was the last to arrive, already grinning as he took his helmet off.

“I told you we could totally get the cub safely!” Scott cheered, his hand high waiting for Stiles to slap it.

“Yeah man. We did it.” The high five that followed was weak.

Lydia crossed her legs and tossed her hair back before speaking, “Really Scott? Stiles is the one that helped Jesse. Not ‘we’. Him.”

Stiles shot her a grateful look as he scooped Jesse off of his leg.

“Okay guys so this is Jesse. He’s a spirit bear shifter and he’s been traveling alone for a long time. He’d got nowhere else to go and he’s going to be staying with me from now on.”

He hadn’t been consciously aware of the decision until he had spoken the words, but Jesse absolutely was going to stay with Stiles and his father. He’d seen the look on his father’s face when he’d introduced them that morning.

Scott spluttered “You can’t just adopt him like it’s nothing.”

“He’s a shifter Stiles. He need more than you can give.” Derek demanded.

“Well I raised your pack pretty well on my own.”

Derek glared, while the other snickered.

“What about when his parents come looking?” Peter inquired, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I’ll tell you why they won’t when he lays down for his nap in a bit.”

“No nap!”

“Yes nap.” Stiles said plainly, lightly pinching the boy’s cheek.

“No! Nap!”

“You want to go nap right now?”

“No.” This time the words were more subdued.

“Anyways, Jessop Stilinski will be officially adopted by the end of the day. And I don’t care about any of your opinions.”

He’d expected to see angry faces ready to argue, but was greeted by the sight of his friend’s grinning faces.

“You’re such a dad. How did we not see it?” Malia laughed.

“I thought it was a good idea from the start. He shouldn’t be out there alone.” Cora said, reminding everyone that she’d once been in Jesse position.

“I can’t wait to see you in a fanny pack, darling.” Peter leered, reminding Stiles he needed to finish his pop culture and fashion lessons with Peter.

“Stiles. No. You aren’t strong enough to protect him.” Derek pleaded.

“Seriously man, he’s not safe here.” Scott added approaching Stiles as if to take Jesse from him.

Jesse whimpered and ducked his head into Stiles chest, no doubt feeling Stiles’ rage through their fledgling pack bond.The sound of his cub being scared and unsure broke something in Stiles and suddenly the two alphas were on the ground, struggling under the pressure of Stiles’ magic. He ignored the defensive wolves at his back, scared and threatened by the sight of their alphas on the ground but in control enough to not interfere.

Stiles felt his feet rise from the ground and the ends of his hair lift from his scalp as wind tore through the house, swirling quickly around Stiles and Jesse. He knew his eyes had changed to the silver that came with his magic and that his veins had once again turned black, he did not like what he looked like when he let his magic course through him this strongly, but he would not let them take his child from him.

“I am the strongest member of this pack.” The words filled the living room as if they to were made of magic.

The wolves behind him whimpered and submitted, but he did not care about them.

“Okay! We were wrong! Stiles stop this!” Scott shouted, still being crushed into the ground.

“Stiles!” Derek cried after a long moment of Stiles’ continued silence.

Stiles sighed, releasing his magic back into the ground and freeing the wolves he’d trapped.

Both rose quickly, angry and embarrassed.

“Do not ever do that again.” Derek spit the words, Stiles would undoubtedly be pushed against a wall if he hadn’t been holding a laughing toddler.

“I can’t believe you man.” Scott muttered before following Derek out the door.

Stiles didn’t move as the rest of the pack filed out after their alphas, a few saying goodbye to him and Jesse.

“That was fun!”Jesse cheered pulling on Stiles’ hoodie strings excitedly.

“Yeah, and now I’m ready to take a nap. How about you buddy?”

“No nap!”

-

Stiles didn’t answer the pack’s messages or attend any pack meetings for a month. A month of taking care of Jesse and picking a college close enough to help if anything happened, but still a good criminal justice school. It was a month full of frustration and fighting with a four year old.

Eventually Scott texted and demanded what they could do to show that they value him and need him in the pack, which sparked an idea in Stiles’ head that ran rampant over the next few days.

He replied, “Prove it.” and sent his location to the pack group message.

He was currently sitting in the exact middle of the preserve surrounded by eleven doors, most of which he knew would never open. He didn’t realistically expect any of them to open.

He had transformed the preserve into a giant maze with eleven entrances, each one spelled to only allow one person to enter, and many chambers filled with tricks, traps, monsters, and riddles. He was sick of the pack pretending to value him, it was time to see who actually did.

Stiles practiced the alphabet and counting to ten with Jesse while he waited, the four year old would be starting school in the fall and needed to catch up to the kids that hadn’t been a bear for over a year.

The first one into the maze was Malia though she was not the first to lose, that honor went predictably to Isaac. The first chamber had two tunnels, one tunnel had Scott’s name over it, the other had Derek’s, but both were correct. Both wolves were caring alphas who had their own faults, neither was the better alpha. Isaac could not pick which alpha he was more loyal to in his heart, the ground opening up from underneath him for hesitating too long.

Stiles snickered as Jesse loudly counted his fingers and Isaac fell to the bottom of a pit.

Malia turned out to be the second to go, charging straight past the riddles and warnings Stiles had spent forever thinking of and falling straight into the moss covered pitfall, joining a grumpy Isaac. Stiles smiled at her roar of fury but couldn't help feeling disappointed that she hadn't even though to read the engraved signs he'd placed in easy eye level.

Stiles smiled in delight as everyone was approaching halfway, he had not expected most to make it very far at all. The pitfall warnings we're closer to riddles and he thought he'd made them difficult to understand.

Poor Allison lost in the chamber Stiles had spelled to show them a lost loved one. Crying for the mother her memories had conjured up, a cold woman who despite her coarse words had genuinely loved her daughter. It was a nasty trick, but Stiles constantly had his mother’s death thrown in his face every time a bad guy smelled his magic. He’d thought that chamber would get Derek or Cora since they’d lost more than anyone, but both were hardened by their grief and were able to smell the magic on the mirages, which was not something he'd anticipated and quickly rectified for one specific chamber.

Cora dropped in the chamber Stiles had placed a singular joystick, she did not know the song of time despite Stiles setting it as his ringtone and the motions as his password to everything. He couldn’t really fault her for that though, but this maze wasn’t about picking favorites or feeling guilty it was about the pack proving which of them genuinely knew Stiles and proving that while alone they could only go as far as their individual weaknesses allowed. Hopefully they'd understand why he'd targeted their weaknesses by the last chamber, that is if anyone actually reached it.

Scott and Derek were breezing through, but Stiles had something saved for them towards the end so he turned his attention to Erica and Boyd.

Erica lost in the chamber of wendigos, swarmed by the realistic illusions before finally dropping into the pit that held her pack mates. Stiles had fought a coven of wendigos last summer on his own and no one had realized how close he'd actually came to dying. Now they'd understand.  Boyd continued passed to the chamber with four levers and four Hogwarts houses, pull the right lever and he’d pass. Unfortunately Boyd pulled Gryffindor, and into the pit he fell. Boyd had had a tendency to put Stiles in a heroistic light ever since sophomore year when he'd dragged Erica and Boyd out of that basement with his bare hands, unable to much with his magic at that point and scared that he'd get them all killed if he'd tried.

Lydia was fearless as she screamed wendigos into oblivion and narrowly avoided picking the wrong house, but as she'd moved to pull the wrong lever she seemed to realize it didn't matter what she thought of him this was about what he thought of himself. She did not make it passed the mirrored chamber, sadly.  Surrounded on all sides by mirrors and a singular sign that read “How do you know you’re you?” she crumpled shouting, “You’ll never need someone else to tell you who you are Stiles!”, unable to solve the riddle from Stiles’ perspective before the pit opened up beneath her.

Kira had shouted, “In a dream you have extra fingers!” before charging through the closest mirror, confident in her answer. The next chamber took Kira down unfortunately. All she had to do was keep control of her shift while six golem approached slow and menacingly. She couldn’t keep her kitsune in, her aura exploding out around her and she shouted, “Stay back!”

Derek and Scott had both just arrived to the second to last chamber. Inside was the illusion of a human woman, this time spelled to smell only human. She asked for their help, tears streaming down her face as she approached and a knife dripping in kanima venom. She took Scott down while he asked her what had happened. Derek faired better, incapacitating her quickly and without real harm.

Jesse gasped beside Stiles drawing his attention away from the monitors he used to watch each pack member. Standing before them covered in blood was a very exhausted Peter Hale.

“Really Stiles? Mirages and illusions the whole way, but the last chamber has a real creature?” the werewolf inquired as he approached a shocked Stiles.

“I gotta keep ya on your toes Creeperwolf.” Stiles grinned, expecting Peter to lightly cuff his head.

Peter smiled at him before placing a gentle, loving kiss on Stiles’ stunned lips. The werewolf promptly passed out after, collapsing at Stiles’ feet.

Stiles looked up just in time to see the pit open up into the last chamber where Derek was fighting the hydra. The pack leapt out of the pit together and took down the hydra quickly. They entered the sitting room Stiles and Jesse had inhabited for the passed couple hours and looked at Stiles expectantly.

“Did we pass then?” Isaac sneered.

“Yes. But only in the end. I was just trying to show you guys that alone we are weak but together, using everyone’s strength we are a pack and as a pack we can overcome anything.”

Stiles winced.

“You’re also a vindictive little monster.” Malia huffed.

“That too.” Stiles shrugged.

“And Peter?” Derek asked, pointing to the collapsed form of his uncle.

“I had not counted for Peter’s unwillingness to work together or lose.” Stiles grinned.

He had not accounted for Peter, that was for sure. He touched his lips for a moment in thought.

“Dinner time yet, ‘Tiles?” Jesse whined more than asked.

Stiles nodded and snapped his fingers, the room and the maze around them disappeared in an instant, the nine hydras returning to their stomping grounds in Greece.

-

“Peter stop eavesdropping. I know you're awake.” Stiles had been monitoring Peter’s heart rate and healing factor since the moment he’d passed out and knew that for the last ten minutes the older man had been listening to the pack yell at Stiles.

“Guilty.” Peter replied with a smirk as he sat up.

Stiles turned back to his angry friends and motioned for them to continue.

“How could you make Allison face her mother’s ghost?”

“How was anyone supposed to know there would be a giant hole in the middle of the pathway?”

“You know I’m scared of wendigos, Stiles!”

Peter finally joined the pack in the kitchen, but chose to stand by Stiles and face the pack, “No one was supposed to win. Stop being angry that he knew your weaknesses when you also know his. Pack is about catching others when they stumble, and not only have you all been stopping him from lifting you up, you’ve been ignoring his own pitfalls.”

The pack sat in silence for a moment as they thought about how they did actually know Stiles’ short comings and weaknesses and how he’d used theirs to show them that a pack is a unit not a group of individuals working towards their own goals.

“Well the test was subjective which means it cannot be used as an adequate grading system.” Lydia huffed.

“Someone did win. You did, Uncle.” Derek reminded them.

“That’s because I have no weaknesses.” Peter replied with a smirk.

“Or he forgot about you.” Scott mumbled.

“Or, I forgot how ruthless Peter is when he’s not being a dick and using it against us.” Stiles shrugged.

The mage’s eyes lit up for a moment before he turned to Peter completely, “How did you defeat the Hydra alone?”

“You mean you weren’t watching?” Cora asked, the Hale family eyebrow look morphing her features.

“Jesse was trying to count to twenty and Scott was being stabbed by a crazy woman, so no I wasn’t watching.” Stiles sniffed, crossing his arms defensively.

Peter turned his body towards Stiles too, as if they were speaking only to each other and the rest of the pack was no longer in the room, “I simply set it on fire.”

“I didn’t know you could kill them with fire. Peter, you’re a burn victim.” Stiles said in awe.

“Two times over. I’m aware of my weakness and do not let it stop me.”

“If you’d tried to fight it the pack would have came to your aid.”

“Would they have?”

Stiles glanced at his friends guilty faces before stepping closer to Peter.

“I wouldn’t have let you die.”

“I will never die again, darling.”

“No. You won’t.” Were Stiles final words on the subject.

He turned back to his friends and smiled, “So who’s ready for dinner?”

“Me!” shouted Jesse, Malia, and Erica.

-

Stiles was glad to see the pack working as a unit more in the aftermath of the maze. Derek stopped patrolling alone, Stiles and Deaton had started working with Kira on her control, Peter started teaching Erica how to fight Wendigos specifically, and over night almost as if my magic the fireplace in the loft had disappeared and the stove had changed from gas to electric. They’d started training together more, often times training separately but still together.

Jesse was acclimating to pack life easily, romping around training sessions and tackling his alphas in literal bear hugs. He still clung to Stiles when the betas growled or nipped at each other, tempers flaring easily between teenagers, but on the whole he was adjusting well. He was especially fond of the Hales, most likely due to the fact that they too were born shifters and were more intune with their wolves. The Hales were also fun to hang on and crawl all over if Jesse’s shrieks of glee as he ran and leaped onto Peter’s back were anything to go by.

“Stiles.”

He hummed, looking up from his latin notes and into Peter’s amused, yet exasperated face.

“You’ve been sunbathing long enough, your skin burns too easily, love.”

Stiles nodded silently, his mind still running through phrases and definitions.

“Up you get.” Peter spoke quietly, lifting Stiles off the blanket he was sprawled across in the grass.

“Don’t forget my books, Peter. I need to figure the summoning ritual out. Gotta reverse engineer it.” Stiles mumbled, his body and mind made soft by his time focusing in the warm sun.

“I won’t forget them. Let me get you to bed and I will come back for them.” Peter reassured him.

“‘Tiles! Papa is taking me to the park!” Jesse yelled, racing down the stairs and almost colliding with the very wombly mage.

“That’s amazing, sweetie. Remember that Papa isn’t as strong as you and the wolves so you gotta be gentle with him okay?”

Jesse huffed, his little foot stomping the ground, “I know how to play with Papa, ‘Tiles! I’m not a baby!”

“You know he didn’t mean it like that, cub. Don’t be mean.” Peter spoke calmly, but even Stiles could feel the reprimand in the man’s aura.

Jesse crossed his arms, his eyes turning away from Peter and Stiles as he mumbled, “Sorry Pe-ya. Sorry ‘Tiles.”

“I’m sorry too, cub. Have fun with Papa today.” Stiles tried to smile at his adopted son, but his face felt so heavy it was more of a flash of a grin than a genuine smile.

He ruffled Jesse’s hair as he passed the four year old and headed for the stairs.

“Hey Peter?” Stiles asked as he laid back onto his bed, immediately burrowing into the blankets.

“Yes, love?”

“Why do you only call me ‘Love’ now?”

“Because I love you, Stiles.”

Stiles was well on his way to being asleep, but his heart lurched at the admission.

“I love you too, Peter. But you should still call me the other pet names too. I like them.” His last words were mumbled into Peter’s chest as the older man joined him in his bed.

Peter ran his hand down Stiles’ back and whispered, “Anything for you, darling boy.”