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dameronology · 4 years ago

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love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true.

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid.

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again.

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist.

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success.

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch.

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered.

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business.

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened.

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently.

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate.

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his.

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself.

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other.

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second.

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers.

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted.

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket.

‘Hey, baby?’

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap.

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase.

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy.

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time.

‘Move in with me?’

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide.

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled.

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad.

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came.

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out.

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned.

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s.

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek.

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled.

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening.

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagines #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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jadelotusflower · 3 years ago

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Robin Hood Rewatch: 3x01 - Total Eclipse

So here we are, the third and final season of Robin Hood. I’ve only ever watched this season once all the way through so am not as familiar with the character arcs and background, but let’s see how we go!

We open with our first new character Tuck, played by the great David Harewood, who has gone on to have quite the career in Homeland and Supergirl. I also want to read his book Maybe I Don’t Belong Here at some stage.

I will say that bringing in Tuck was absolutely the right decision for the show - giving a new spin to an character from the legends that nonetheless has never really made much of an impact on the screen (that the best version is the cartoon badger is telling). From memory the writing going forward doesn’t really do justice to Harewood’s talent, but let’s see how we go.

Smash cut to Robin in the forest being chased by the gang reduced to Allan, John, and Much. We have some new costumes in play, the leather shop in the Holy Land must have been having a sale. I’m not sure I care for Robin’s new look, the concept is good and I like the detail, but the execution is a little bulky, which coupled with the new short hair doesn’t do it for me. But it fits Robin’s change since the end of last season - he now has a hard outer shell.

I will say that everyone looks appropriately dirty and exhausted, like they really have been travelling for months

Anyway Robin’s on the warpath off to kill Guy while the gang tries to stop him. Although it’s interesting that John says “Do not do this” while Allan says “You cannot do this alone” which is quite the distinction. But Robin doesn’t hear that, just falls back on old habits, pushing everyone away with cruel words.

It’s nice that Much stands up for Allan when Robin calls him a traitor, and Allan for Much when Robin punches him - they also share a look that suggests they know exactly what Robin’s doing, and only withdraw when Robin draws his sword against them - a broadsword, not his scimitar. I don’t think we ever see that sword again, do we?

“Robin Hood is finished. He died in the Holy Land - with Marian.” Robin compartmentalising again, he’s lost the will to be the good man who does good deeds, he’s thinking only of vengeance now.

Robin wears a ring with a purple stone around his neck, and kisses it as Marian’s Theme plays. The problem, of course, is that the ring looks nothing like a) the ring he gave Marian in 2x09, or b) Richard’s ring used in the wedding in 2x13! I appreciate that they probably didn’t still have the original props, but they couldn’t have at least tried to match it? I suppose Robin would hardly take the ruby off Marian’s dead body, and the other ring may not have been with her in the Holy Land (we never saw it after 2x10), but this ring is a bit symbolic plot point! It’s pointless to have a third ring in the mix that apparently Robin just decided meant something.

Anyway a bedraggled Guy staggers out and they fight - in the meantime the gang is on their way, and Tuck has apparently just being chilling in Locksley’s church. Guy is getting pretty wrecked, and while two of his guards come in for the assist, he uses the opportunity to grab a small child and run away.

And suddenly there’s a huge fucking cliff within running distance of Locksley! Convenient!

The child assures Robin that she isn’t scared, because he’s Robin Hood and this seems to register - he’s not so far gone he would risk harm to an innocent, and drops his weapons.

We then get this exchange between Robin and Guy:

Robin: The time has come to pay for what you did.

Guy: No, it was you. You forced me to do it.

Robin: You murdered her. She didn’t love you, you couldn’t have her.

Guy: She should have been mine!

Robin: SHE WAS MY WIFE!

Look, I’m not saying this is ooc for either of these characters - Guy still in complete denial and Robin possessive - but I think back to the nuance of their back and forth in 1x08 and feel this could have been better, particularity since both men act like Marian was a treasure that was taken from them rather than an actual person.

They tussle again and Robin hits his head on a rock, and Guy throws him off the cliff with a triumphant yell as the gang arrives too late to intervene.

Much barrels in but is quickly put down by Guy, while John holds Allan back when he tries to go help. I like to think Allan and Much got really close on the journey back to England, because there is absolutely a new kind of camaraderie between them.

Meanwhile, in Nottingham, the Sheriff also has a new costume and there is certainly a theme here.

We also have the return of Sir Jasper, a character I quite enjoy, giving Vaisey the bad news he’ll have to pay Prince John 1000 crowns a month for botching the mission in the Holy Land.

It’s interesting that Jasper says “the King wanted your head on a spike, Prince John protected you.” If he is telling the truth (which may not be the case) this means that Richard remains a moron easily swayed and learned nothing from 2x13.

Sir Jasper is genre savvy! Very correctly pointing out that they’ve thought Robin was dead before to no avail, and wanting to see the body before all the rejoicing.

The body is in fact found by Tuck in the river, and he kicks of the religious symbolism of this episode by taking Robin to a cave to recuperate.

There’s a very good scene between Tuck and Guy where he throws him off the scent and knowing exactly all the buttons to push and set himself up as being on Guy’s side.

We then get our first look at Guy’s costume which is buckles galore, although I much prefer this one to the PVC thing of previous seasons. I also really like the red detailing on the fabric.

Tuck tying Robin up and force feeding him soup is rather amusing. I do like that Tuck is set up as an authority figure to Robin - without Marian there’s no one to call him on his shit and Tuck slides into that role well, albeit in a different way.

Robin got himself a new tattoo in the Holy Land - renewed religious fervor? I think its also the same arm where Marian once stitched up an arrow wound - but is probably primarily there to feed into the Christ metaphor this episode.

Nice attention to detail on the scar though.

Tuck lays the guilt trip on thick at Locksley, and Robin’s sheer exhaustion and grief - “I can’t help them - I have nothing else to give” - rings very true. The acknowledgement that actively doing good and being selfless is hard, that there is an edge to it, is always compelling to me. Robin has become a hero to the people at a cost to himself, he has achieved victory after victory for the people while suffering great personal losses, and at some point it makes sense that he would feel burnt out, and want to just give up.

“I even gave the life of the woman I love” however, is a gross line and I hate it. The whole episode removes Marian’s agency and reduces her to something that was fought over and nothing more, so boo writer Michael Chaplin. Boooooo. Looking ahead, he also wrote A Dangerous Deal which I remember being pretty horrible regarding the female characters.

This does seem to be stemming primarily from guilt however - Robin admits that he pushed the gang away because he didn’t want any more blood on his hands, and perhaps he feels that in encouraging Marian in his style of insurrection rather than playing things her way, he bears responsibility in her death. Now it’s understandable as a grief response, but there’s never a moment of resolution, where he acknowledges her choices. We never see him actually process his grief, he just puts it away, beside everything else he can’t think about or he’ll cease to function.

I mean come on, the ring is bright purple! Get it together, props department! Look at stills from last season and get a ring that looks the same! Viewers notice these things!

Tuck also takes over Marian’s role of manipulating Guy, who is tormented and unable to sleep. Tuck quite tenderly strokes Guy’s hair, but it’s interesting that when asked what torments him, Guy says its the fear that Robin might not be dead. He isn’t ready to deal with his guilt either (although the difference is Guy is actually responsible for Marian’s death) - as Tuck says, there must be a reckoning, but Guy’s not there yet.

Tuck then moves on to manipulating the gang - this whole episode is his chess game, moving the pieces about until they’re in the right position. Much and John trust him immediately when he shows them Marian’s ring but Allan, of course, is naturally suspicious.

Okay, this is adorable.

Important plot point is Robin had a dislocated shoulder and therefore his arm is weak - so he can’t just barrel in like usual and rescue the gang. But Tuck is the man with a plan, harnessing the Robin’s heroic status not only to convince him to rejoin the fight, but set him up to become even more of a powerful figure.

This would have been an excellent time for Robin to actually talk a bit about Marian - he was spurred back into action by seeing the shrine and needing to save John, Allan, and Much, but it would have been poignant for Robin to acknowledge that Marian told him to keep fighting, and part of this is keeping his word to her.

Of course, that would mean that Robin would be dealing with his emotions instead of burying them, and would be starting to heal, but that’s not the story being told.

Instead Robin mentions his father for the first time, and his belief that the dead become stars - he almost wistfully talks about lighting up the night sky. There really is a sense on rewatch, knowing Robin will die at the end of the season, that he comes back to achieve his purpose but he somehow knows - and is resigned to - his inevitable death.

Another day, another needlessly elaborate execution method.

Meanwhile, Robin pushes through the pain to scale the castle walls, and Tuck buys for time.

There’s an editing/effects issue here, where the eclipse has started and the sky visibly darkens, but no one seems to notice until Tuck invokes the crucifixion darkness - the entire event staged by Tuck as a biblical miracle - on the third day, Robin rises again.

But it’s actually quite an effective scene, with the darkness and confusion, Tuck preaching, with Vaisey running frantically around with only a torch.

Again Jasper is the smartest person in the room, the only one who found something to hide behind so he can’t get shot.

Robin chooses to let Guy live, so he can live in suffering.

“I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I don’t like you.” But...did Guy ever like Vaisey? Respected his power, shared his aims, hoped to benefit by serving him - and had some kind of twisted loyalty to him - after realising he made the wrong choice refusing Marian and backing Vaisey, it’s a fairly weak repudiation. Baby steps, I suppose.

Tuck joins the gang, and Allan is understandably a bit miffed about being used as bait - it will be interesting to see this dynamic going forward. After the Holy Land John, Allan, and Much are very much a unit, and this is putting a new dynamic in play, an outsider who hasn’t completely earned trust yet.

“The sheriff eclipsed - a legend reborn.” This is a good introduction to Tuck - his interest is in building up the power of Robin Hood as a mythic figure and rallying point - but he’s slightly dangerous as well, ready to put others at risk to achieve his aims. He’s greater good, bigger picture territory.

And Robin has accepted the role Tuck has designed for him - he buries Marian’s ring as a way of disconnecting from his grief, so he can focus on being Robin Hood, who lives only for the people.

#robin hood bbc #robin hood rewatch #3x01 #total eclipse

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whosscruffylooking · 4 years ago

Text

The Purest Things: Wingmen (Aaron Hotchner x Female BAU! Reader)

this is based on season 10 episode 10 “amelia porter”

Warnings: None. Pure Fluff.

A/N: I am so beyond obsessed with the mutual pining. Initially, this was going to be one part, but I have to slow burn the heck out of this, so it'll be a few parts. Enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

august 2014

Bookend: "You meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person and your life is changed forever." – Love & Other Drugs

I walk into the jazz club, searching for Rossi. For the past year and a half, we have frequented this classy establishment, bonding over our shared passion for jazz and fine liquor. We come here every Friday unless the job keeps us away. It's a form of escapism that I have grown to cherish deeply. With a job like ours, finding something to look forward to each week, some semblance of a routine is crucial.

I stroll over to “our” booth, but instead of seeing David’s familiar face, it's that of the Unit Cheif. I throw my head back and laugh, “Of all the people I could have expected to see here...you were not one of them.”

Don't get me wrong; I'm not upset to find him here. I could never get enough of him. I see him nearly every day of the week, I have weekly movie nights with Jack, and Aaron and I have been to hell and back with each other over the years.

He shakes his head and smirks, “What can I say? I'm full of surprises.”

“So tell me Aaron Hotchner, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

“David Rossi, ” he emphasizes.

“So you’ve been recruited as one of his wingmen too huh?”

“Apparently so.”

“Well I'm glad you're here.” I slide into the booth next to him.

He glides his cup in circles along the tablecloth, “Me too.”

“May I pry?” I inquire.

He nods, “You may.”

“Why exactly are you here? Believe me, I'm thrilled you're joining us, but David and I have been coming here for over a year. Why'd he invite you now?”

His shoulders tense up, and then he inhales deeply, the tension releasing when he exhales.

“If I'm being completely honest, I think it has something to do with the fact that Beth and I are no longer together.”

“Oh my God, Hotch. I'm so sorry, I didn't know.”

Aaron looks up at me; the professional man, the profiler I'm so familiar with, is gone. Instead, he looks at me with the eyes of a vulnerable man, someone who loves so passionately and craves that same love in return. This isn't the first time he's looked at me with those eyes, and I pray that it is not the last time. If it were anyone else, the prolonged eye contact would deter me; my glance would dart in the other direction. But, for years, I have savored these intimate moments with him. I'm not exactly sure when this connection began or when it deepened to the awareness we now have of one another.

Most likely, it began shortly after Haley’s death, when I started to spend more time with Jack or those late nights working in the office with him. Maybe it was that time I brought him his favorite coffee and bagel to his house because I knew he wouldn’t feed himself otherwise.

(Aaron’s P.O.V.)

I gaze at her with utmost fascination. She is a mystery I have never been able to solve, a profile I cannot complete. She is whole, a pillar of strength for our team, her family, me, and Jack. Yet, there is a fear within her that mimics a young child scared of the monsters that are both imagined and real. She’s seen and experienced things that no one her age should have to witness. I can see through the worn expression on her face. She’s holding herself together for the sake of everyone around her, but inside she’s slowly falling apart. All I want is to help mend those crumbling pieces and hold her together. She doesn’t realize that she has been doing that very thing for me for the past four years.

In my life, I have had the opportunity to love deeply and freely. But two of those loves stand in realms of their own. The first time I fell in love, it was with an opposite. A precious, symbolic tale of love and loss.

With Beth, I did love her. She gave me the strength to feel something again after Haley died. I found the ability to move forward with hope and recognition that I deserve happiness once again.

The second great love came in the form of a mirror. We share an empathy, an understanding of the fundementals of life and love that shapes our individual values. I was far from perfect when we met; I was detached, damaged, and hopeless. I felt like I was barely a man. Truth be told, I won’t be perfect after the fact either. But, she gives me a sense of realness that I never perceived as possible. And since the day we met before I even accepted the actuality of my affections for her, I strove to better myself. Every day since, and for the rest of my life, I want to work every day to be the man she deserves and needs.

Awakening from my trance, I speak up, “I am grateful every day for the relationship I had with Beth. I truly did love her. I love her still for the person she helped me become. I realized, through her, that I can choose to move forward with my life.”

“You deserve to be happy, Aaron,” she interjects.

“Some time ago, Rossi came into my office encouraging me to start dating again. He reminded me that Haley wouldn’t want me to avoid moving on. Of course, my immediate instinct was to deny that I was guilty of just that. But he was right. He told me that I am no good to anyone when I’m miserable.”

She throws her head back and laughs, “Miserable? No, I wouldn’t call you that. Slightly uptight? Absolutely.”

I gasp, exaggerating a look of offense, “I’m hurt.”

She touches my arm, and I can feel my heart stop for a beat. Something about her touch elevated my heart and soul to another plain. It’s as if her small hand on my forearm revealed the certainty I had been searching for.

I chuckle, “Don’t worry. David and I came to the same conclusion.”

“Phew,” she breathes out a sigh of relief, “Good because I didn’t know how I was going to dig myself out of that hole....but please, continue what you were saying.”

I take a deep breath, “When you and I met I had already lost my entire world. Haley had just recently taken Jack, we were fighting constantly, and then...” I feel my eyes beginning to sting, and I realize that she hasn’t taken her grip off my arm once she squeezes it reassuringly.

“When Haley died, it felt like I was staring into an abyss. After the funeral, you found me alone, in some room that I had escaped to for some solace. But I didn’t feel any relief. And then, you came in. You sat across from me, and we just sat in silence. Somehow though, more was said in that silence than I had ever dared to utter out loud to someone. You didn’t know it then, but you saved me that day. You saved Jack too.”

I hear her short intake of breath and look over to see her lip beginning to tremble.

“Aaron...”

As much as I want to hear her melodic voice speak to me now, when I am most unarmed, a feeling that is entirely foreign to me, I have never felt so driven to yell from the top of my lungs a profession of love for this woman.

I begin to speak again, and I am immediately interrupted by Rossi, accompanied by the jazz singer hooked on his arm.

“La mia bella ragazza! Finalmente sei arrivato,” he says, kissing the top of her head. She blushes slightly, her eyes flickering to me briefly.

“You are a sight for sore eyes my dear. Is she not Aaron?”

I take a sip of my drink, glancing at y/n, her beautiful y/e/c sparkling back at me. How can anyone put into words just how beautiful she is?

I nod, “She is indeed.”

I’m suddenly made aware of the absence of her touch on my arm. How can someone’s touch both simultaneously have such a stronghold on you and also set you free? Regardless of the reason, I long to savor that feeling once again.

“Well,” she inches out of the booth, “I’m going to get a drink. Can I get you boys anything?”

We shake our heads in unison. Rossi suggests that his date join her.

He places his hand on my shoulder, “So? Any progress made?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm her. There’s so much I want to say. But I feel like I’ve put her through enough already. I’m an old man Dave. I’m a widower with a son. The damage I’d be asking her to cope with, the burden I’d be subjecting her to...”

David clears his throat and slips his phone out of his pocket. He swipes through some photos in his camera roll and lands on a photo of y/n and me. It’s from a cocktail party he hosted a few years ago. Jack, y/n, and I are sitting on the grass in Rossi’s backyard playing with dandelions. I can still hear their laughter filling the air: Jack’s squeals and y/n’s child-like giggles. We felt like a family. I would give anything to relive those moments of genuine bliss, to feel that sensation of being complete, heart, mind, and soul once more.

“Sometimes,” Rossi begins, “when people are destined to be together, their love grows over an undetermined span of time. It could be months, weeks, even years. You both may feel the shared pain of this rollercoaster called life and the hurt that comes from being separated from one another, but this helps you better grasp the priceless value and purity of the love you share. There is no easy road to love. Anyone who claims otherwise is doomed to be plagued by the mediocrity that is a false sense of security. The path you are on, Aaron is the one walked by the greatest lovers in history. In layman’s terms, don’t screw this up.”

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 4 years ago

Note

Klaine it up! 2, 7, 12, 21, 50

Okay...I got this. PROMPTS FOUND HERE

2 - you accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you open the lid the wrong way.

This was not Kurt Hummel’s first time opening yogurt but it might’ve well have been. He was sitting at a picnic table in Central Park on his lunch break from Vogue.com having just picked up a BLT, sweeten iced tea, and strawberry yogurt from his newfound favorite sandwich shop. It just happened to be two blocks down from the Vogue offices too.

After eating half a sandwich, he found himself watching three young girls practicing their hula-hooping skills. Of course, while entranced by the colorful swirls of plastic, Kurt grabbed his low-fat yogurt and pulled at the lid, and the minute he did another man was being dragged by his golden retriever over to Kurt’s table.

Before he could stop it, a splash of light pink yogurt was splattered across the front of a bright blue polo.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” they both said.

Kurt had a lap full of puppy and the man covered in yogurt.

“She’s really friendly and has a fondness for bacon,” the man said, gesturing to the sandwich. “And who can blame her.”

With that comment, Kurt pushed his meal away slightly. Out of reach of the dog’s mouth.

“I usually am way more careful with my food,” Kurt said.

The handsome man only laughed, “it’s no big deal, do you happen to have a napkin?”

“Oh yes!” Kurt reached into his bag to grab one.

“Thanks,” he said, “come here, Lacey.”

The puppy sat right at his side and waited. Kurt stood up to wipe the yogurt away while the man kept Lacey still.

“I can...” he started to say but Kurt was already pulling away having cleaned it up the best he could.

“Lacey and I also share a fondness for cute boys but I don’t suppose...” he trailed off, blushing.

Kurt still wasn’t used to being flirted with but this wasn’t small town, Ohio.

“And who can blame you,” Kurt replied, already grabbing a pen and paper from his bag to write on.

THE REST OF THE PROMPTS CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT

7 - you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle

Kurt told his dad to pick up an extra heavy whipping cream three days ago when Burt asked if Kurt needed any other ingredients for Thanksgiving dessert. He told him.

“I only need 3 things: dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, and almond extract.”

Burt had gotten everything but Kurt needed whipping cream for both the chocolate mousse itself and the whipped topping he planned to make. Now he was at the crowded grocery store one day prior to Thanksgiving. Exactly where he didn’t want to be.

Of course, every grocery store made you walk all the way to the back of the store for dairy products. I’ll just grab milk and eggs real quick, you think, then suddenly you have a cart full of snacks you didn’t need.

Kurt found the red and white carton fairly quick. He backed up and started to make his way to the self-checkout. Before he could think about the temptation of potato chips, he was stopped by another body.

They both stopped and shifted their feet to make way for the other. From right to left and back again for several seconds before both falling into pits of laughter. Kurt looked into deep hazel eyes that twinkled at him. He wondered how long he could do this dance just to stare at them some more.

“That’s my fault, I came around the corner too quick,” he said.

Not quick enough, Kurt thought, we could’ve fallen to the floor. You on top of me would be quite nice.

“No, it’s all me,” Kurt replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

He fumbles into his pocket for a business card. Isabel’s one-month anniversary gift.

“If you’re in town longer than tomorrow, I’d love to buy you some coffee as an apology,” Kurt said, handing the card over.

“Oh.” Kurt watched him scan the card, flipping it over in his hands. “I’d love to, Kurt.”

A shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he should thank his dad for forgetting the cream.

12 - you kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of your head

Blaine used to hate having an older brother. Growing up, he felt constantly in competition with Cooper’s larger-than-life personality. Now that Cooper had settled down in LA with Lisa, his wife, and had two wonderful kids, having an older sibling didn’t seem too bad.

It was summer break, Blaine was free to leave the confines of his NYU dorm room. He was trying to get lost in the sunshine of California to forget he was about to start his final year of college. Time with his niece and nephew was sure to put any nervousness out of his head.

They were playing soccer in the park when it happened. It was bound to. Everyone in LA was hot. It was like the law.

Cute boys and Blaine’s non-existence coordination weren’t a good mix.

Blaine went to kick the ball and caught sight of a bicep. An unusually pale bicep. A rare sight in sunny Los Angles. Arms, Blaine fantasized, he’d love to see wrapped around him or possibly pushing his legs apart.

He was sure he tighten his laces. This is why Blaine Anderson didn’t wear sneakers. Missed the ball by an inch but the force of his kick sent something flying through the air directly towards the cute guy: a sneaker.

It happened so fast, Blaine heard the yell of surprise before realizing his sock was exposed. Once he realized what happened, he rushed over to the man.

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Blaine said. “Can I do anything?”

“Well, an aspirin would be great,” the man teased.

Blaine sat in the grass and chuckled. Still extremely embarrassed.

“Not exactly the fairytale I always dreamed of.”

“Fairytale?” Blaine asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Cinderella,” he said, like it was obvious, “a lost shoe as it were.”

“I’m not Cinderella,” Blaine told him, “sorry to say. I’m more of a Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I do believe this is yours,” Kurt said, handing over the shoe.

21 - Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are.

His dad always said pour your drinks yourself. Blaine became that friend who grabbed drinks for everyone for this reason exactly. He wasn’t sure what the occasion was exactly but his study buddy from his songwriting workshop invited him. It was at some loft in Bushwick but Blaine didn’t mind the adventure.

Until tonight he had no reason to venture to this part of the city.

“Blaine!” Elliott exclaimed, pushing a solo cup into his hand, “Drink up, karaoke at eleven!”

Then he disappeared into the crowd. Blaine headed straight for the kitchen and poured the toxic mixture down the sink. He found a new cup and started reading the labels of the bottles spread out across the counter. Mixers and any alcohol of your choice seemed to be available.

Rum and coke sounded good. He went into the fridge for a cold soda first. Blaine was happy the kitchen was empty he wasn’t quite ready to start making friends. As far as he knew, Elliott was the only friendly face here tonight.

He poured the rum in for some semblance of tracking his alcohol intake. The last time he got drunk, he dialed the professor he TA-ed for, who thankfully overlooked that incident. Blaine cracked open the coke and while he poured surveying the living room.

People were dancing to an upbeat pop song that Blaine strangely didn’t recognize and others were mingling in doorways or sat on scattered sofas and chairs chatting. He caught a pair of blue eyes in the crowd.

The man they were attached to was stunning. If he hadn’t blinked, Blaine could’ve mistaken him for a marble statue carved by the gods. They didn’t lose eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until the man stood on the other side of the counter that Blaine noticed his hand was covered in soda.

“Papers towels are behind you,” the man offers.

Blaine set the now empty can down and spun around for paper towels to clean up his mess.

Just great, he thought, make a fool out of yourself. That’ll score you some points.

He cleans up his hand before wiping down the puddle of bubbling coke on the counter.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, “and this is my party so I like to know all my guests.”

“Your party?” Blaine stutters.

“It’s my birthday.”

“I’m Blaine,” he introduces. “Elliott invited me. We have a class together.”

“Oh, you’re Blaine. From songwriting workshop.”

“That’s me.”

Elliott’s obviously talked about him before to this man. This gorgeous, completely out of Blaine’s league man.

“God, he’s relentless,” he says. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Um, might I ask why? I can leave if there’s an issue.” Blaine knows when he isn’t welcome.

“No, no,” he replies, “don’t go. It’s just he’s been trying to set us up for months now.”

It all clicks.

“Oh god, you’re Kurt.”

“That’s me, the birthday boy. and you are Elliott’s idea of the best gift ever.”

Blaine blushes. “I don’t know if I can I've up to that but if I can have the next dance I can try.”

Kurt nods. “I’d like that, Blaine. A lot.”

50 - getting paired up on an amusement park ride that requires even-numbered riders

All of Kurt’s friends hated rollercoasters. Rachel didn’t like heights, Elliott refused to do anything with loops, and Santana, well, she was too caught up in her new girlfriend to be bothered.

“I only wanna hear screaming tonight,” she told him.

So, Kurt waited in line himself. Some fun day at Coney Island this was turning out to be. He was so glad he was spending the day with friends. Kurt rolled his eyes.

The woman directing the ride gave Kurt his row number and moved down the line. Behind him someone tapped on his shoulder, Kurt turned around and found himself looking at a curly-haired man around his age.

“Guess we’re both odd men out then, I’m the single rider in my group today.”

“Oh, um, no, my friends were too chicken to even ride,” Kurt said.

“I’m really surprised Wes and David are good to go. They both hate being upside-down.”

Kurt smiled.

“I'm Blaine, by the way.”

“Kurt.”

The ride emptied out and Kurt crawled over to the far seat. They buckled themselves in and listened to the instructions to keep all body parts inside at all times. Then, the bar came down and the ride launched.

After the ride ended, Blaine and Kurt were chatting all the way down. Wes and David trailing behind them.

“That second loop really threw me,” Blaine was saying.

“I saw,” Kurt exclaimed, “I thought you were going to fall out of your seat.”

“Downfalls of being short and compact.”

When three more people joined their day at the park, no one questioned it.

#this was a lot at once but SO FUN #monica's inbox #my fics #klaine drabbles #meet cutes

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tweetracer · 4 years ago

Note

Meeting the lost boys by knocking into one of their bikES 👀👌🏻

OP WHAT’S IT LIKE HAVING THE BIGGEST BRAIN IN THE WORLD (also this is my sECOND TIME WRITING THIS CAUSE MY COMPUTER CRASHED W/O SAVING SO SORRY IF IT’S GARBO)

LOST BOYS x S/O WHO RAN INTO THEIR BIKES

DAVID

Okay you already had one drink too many and fuck that was a cool looking bike. You were new to the area so people’s quiet comments of ‘that’s a bad idea’ went right over your head. You were just gonna look nobody can get pissed at you for looking.

Of course looking had turned to touching.

You ran your fingers across the smooth leather of the handles, admiring how well maintained it was despite clearly being frequently used.

“Can I help you?”

“FUCK HOLY SHI-“ you fell forwards at the voice that came from behind you, stumbling and watching as the bike fell in slow motion towards the ground.

You closed your eyes, wincing when you heard the SNAP! of the side view mirror as it landed, crumpled, beneath the vehicle.

The sound of a frustrated sigh made you turn slowly- and suddenly you felt a lot more sober as you looked up into the sharp blue eyes of a blonde man standing with his arms crossed and his gaze narrowed.

He looked ready to scream before you tossed your hands up- stumbling through your words as you offered to pay. You patted yourself down hurriedly desperate to find your wallet when it hit you.

Fuck you left it at your apartment.

Explaining the situation you offered to go get the money and bring it back to him, assuring you were good for your word.

“Forgive me sweetheart but I’m not exactly keen on trusting someone who just broke my mirror off”

You winced and nodded understandingly before inviting him to come along so he knew you wouldn’t bail and his eyebrows rose up.

He’d seen enough pornos to know exactly where this was headed ;)

Never opposed to a good time he agreed, following you in the short walk to your apartment with such confidence it was hard to tell who was leading who. He introduced himself as David as the two of you walked- actually starting a pretty good rapport despite the rocky introduction.

As you finally made your way to the front of your apartment David straightened himself, stomach curling with anticipation as he readied himself for the coy little song and dance before you got to really repay him for the damages.

Confident, he took a step forwards before- THUD

He ran face first into your door. Reeling for a moment before he realized that you just closed the fucking door on him what the-

Before David could voice his confusions and frustration it swung open again, and there you were- standing before him with wallet in hand as you paged through some bills.

He glowered, upset that he had misread the cues of the situation and gave you an incredibly low-balled estimate. Frowning as you handed the cash over you wished him a goodnight and shut the door again.

Grumbling, it wasn’t until he was headed towards the stairwell to leave that he heard the sound of the creaky wood opening up.

You poked your head out, flushed and grinning before asking if he was free for dinner tomorrow night with a smug smile.

You little tease

PAUL

This was a stupid idea. You knew this was a stupid idea- but you swore to god if your friends teased you one more time for skipping on this bet you were going to lose it.

It was simple. Sit on one one of Santa Carla’s resident bad boys’ bikes and live to tell the tale and they pay your rent for a month. Easy... peasy...

You glanced over your shoulder, already feeling sweat start to form on your brow as you watched your friends gathered around the railing of the boardwalk- giving you thumbs up and egging you on.

Taking a deep breath you snuck across the beach side- having checked one, two, three times that none of those wannabe-gangsters were coming before finally sidling up to the line.

You picked one at random, taking a moment as you tried to figure out how to get up and into the seat without jostling it. Finally, you managed to straddle the seat, you were surprised just how soft the cushion felt against your legs as you looked across the beach at your companions.

They were waving their hands and mouthing something frantically- you squinted, leaning forwards and trying to get a better idea of what they were trying to tell you.

“I think they’re tryna warn you about me, doll”

“FUCK!”

You scrambled to get off the bike, stumbling and falling face-first into the sand. With all the blood rushing to your ears you couldn’t hear the stranger’s laughter as the bike tipped over, the air getting pushed out of your lungs as it landed across your back.

The stranger, a tall blonde guy decked out in full leather and studs, was doubled over with laughter- grabbing his stomach as tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he watched you flail uselessly underneath the motorcycle.

“Dude you look like a squashed roach” he choked, managing to get a hold of himself- his laughter tapering off into tiny giggles, leaning his hands on his knees to look down at you with a wild grin.

Finally, he deigned to help, using one hand to lift the bike up like it weighed nothing. Once freed you groaned, back aching from where you would no doubt be sporting a gnarly bruise tomorrow.

Before you got the chance to get up you felt two strong arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air with a dramatic twirl- your hands flying to his shoulders on instinct.

The biker held you up for a moment “If you wanted a ride all you had to do was ask, gorgeous”

Red all the way to your ears you mumbled a small thank you as he gently set you on wobbly knees, keeping a wide-palmed hand on your hip to steady you.

“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but if you’d like to explain what you were doing straddling my bike I’m all ears.” he purred, hand giving you a flirtatious squeeze as you recounted the bet- nodding to your group of friends who were frozen like deer in the headlights.

The stranger, Paul, made a humming noise in the back of his throat as he thought over your excuse before leaning in close to your ear.

“Well we can’t let them win then, can we, doll?” and with that he let go to swing a long leg over his bike, offering you a calloused hand and a wink.

Okay... maybe this was a good bet after all.

DWAYNE

It was late, you were exhausted, and your feet ached from standing up all afternoon and evening at your closing shift of Stoker’s Diner. Still dressed in your uniform you stumbled, yawning as you picked your way across the boardwalk.

Your eyes kept drifting closed- the moments between when you were awake and practically sleepwalking getting longer and longer as you followed the familiar route.

When you opened your eyes and you were staring up at the distant white light of stars you realize oh shit when did I fall.

Then you realized the sharp stabbing pain in your leg, hissing as you curled up, abs tensing as you saw the heavy bike on top of your shin. “Fuckin’ shit” you growled, grabbing your thigh in an attempt to pull yourself free.

The sudden weight was lifted and you looked up at broad shoulders and dark hair that framed a handsome face. You must have died, because this face was that of an angel’s.

“Am I dead?” you asked groggily, sleep-addled brain making your tongue a little looser as the stranger smiled. He held out his hand to you politely, waiting with a raised brow.

Your hand felt tiny in his as he gently lifted you onto your legs only for you to teeter over precariously at the sharp pain in your knee. Glancing down you saw bloody torn skin and a purple bruise beginning to bloom across your shin.

The man’s shoulders tensed slightly at the sight of a droplet blood trailing its way down your leg. Exhausted, you let yourself be manhandled into the seat.

“Here” his voice was a low rumble that made even your tired mind spark up eagerly.

God he was hot.

The biker lifted you up like a sack of feathers, setting you in the seat of the bike so your legs dangled above the ground. The man kneeled down, reaching into his pocket and rifling around in it for a few seconds before pulling out a band aid.

You stuttered out a thank you, feeling you face heat up as he glanced up at you from beneath thick lashes- a pleasant smile gracing his herculean features.

“You should be careful.” he spoke, fastening the adhesive to it with a gentle pat. You coughed shyly, unable to make eye contact as you quietly explained that you had a long shift and you were opening tomorrow again while your fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

The stranger listened silently, eyes soft as he focused- occasionally nodding his understanding. His hand was still on the back of you calf- fingers cold and sending goosebumps all the way up your spine.

When you finally finished he stood, looming over you as he introduced himself as Dwayne before hesitating- thinking something over..

“If you want... I can drive you home... probably safer than sleepwalking off the boardwalk again”

MARKO

When you told that guy to back off from your friend you did not think it would end with you running at top speed through the crowds of the boardwalk. The guy’s yelling seemed to get closer and closer as you jumped over a table- switching directions suddenly in an attempt to throw him off.

Your eyes darted around as you searched for a way out- landing on the railing off the edge of the boardwalk that led to the beach side parking. If you played your cards right you might be able to hitch a ride or at the very least lose him by hiding.

With a fell swoop you tossed your legs over the edge, falling a few stomach-churning feet before you touched the ground, skinning your knees as you took off again. Your assailant cursed, running down the stairs and getting left further behind.

Looking over your shoulder to track his progress you didn’t see the motorcycle in front of you.

In fact

You didn’t see the line of motorcycles in front of you.

And you sure as hell didn’t see the blonde boy decked out in a leather jacket milling about.

It wasn’t until you laid, cheek pressed against his chest and bike flat beneath your shins that you even realized what your collision was with. Gloved hands gripped your hips tightly and the two of you stared, confused at each other before you heard the footsteps getting closer.

“Shit shit shit- CAN YOU DRIVE THIS THING?” you were already sitting up, straddling his hips for a moment before pulling him to his feet.

He only stared, lips slightly parted and brown eyes wide before he nodded numbly- gaze unable to leave your face as you turned to see your attacker get close.

“HURRY-”

That seemed to kick him into gear as he glanced over your shoulder at the drunken surfer gaining ground towards the two of you. In a fluid motion he lifted the bike up and turned it on, the revving engine drowning out the chaos around you.

Without waiting for an invite you hopped on, gripping tight to his jacket as he peeled away from the line of the other bikes and taking off at a breakneck speed.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the wind whipped your hair around you- heart still pounding in your chest from adrenaline as you pressed your face into the stranger’s back with a sigh of blessed relief.

Long after the danger was far behind the two of you were still speeding along- running others out of your path and sidling closer towards the shore.

Your eyes closed and you relaxed a little bit, hands loosening their grip where it had been balled up in his jacket. His shoulders tensed and he leaned forwards, the motorcycle suddenly speeding up so fast there were tears in your eyes.

With an excited laugh that was whipped away by the wind you flung your arms around his chest, squeezing tight- his pleased smile and small blush invisible to you as he veered a sharp turn to make you hold onto him closer.

After what could’ve been hours or minutes of heart pounding excitement, the blonde boy finally slowed- eventually stopping the bike and parking it far away from the loud boardwalk.

His hair was a mess and the apples of his cheeks were pink with adrenaline and you got a good look at his face properly this time.

Oh he was cute.

He smiled, looking almost bashful

“I’m Marko, and uh- I had fun being your getaway driver.”

#the lost boys #the lost boys movie #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys 1987 #lost boys #lost boys imagines #character imagines #lost boys x reader #meet cute #lost boys dwayne #lost boys paul #lost boys david #lost boys marko #reader slash #character slash #x reader #Anonymous

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monsterfuneral · 4 years ago

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weightless | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!Lost boys x Reader

Songs used: Alice In Chains - Rotten Apple / The Cure - Cold / Failure - Another Space Song

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: (None of the songs pertain to the plot/relationship, they’re simply just good songs) Drug use, a little making out :), possibly ooc?? This is my first time writing for them

Author’s Note: This is so self indulgent omfg. I wanted to write a semi vent fic while also something cute that made me feel better.

!!LOST BOY REQUESTS OPEN!! (smut, fluff or angst)

Full request list will be written soon <3

---

Your body felt weightless as you danced along to the song that played on the beloved rockbox. Fingers twisting and arms turning as your hips swayed and your feet carried you along the decrepit fountain in the center of the cave. Your fingers thread through your hair and drifted above your head before extending outwards in front of you, coming back to drag your fingertips across your cheeks, neck, and down to your chest before traveling back upwards. The high you had been riding still clutched you so beautifully, leaving you swimming in your own head as you enjoyed the echoing intro of an Alice In Chains song. The hypnotic vocals and beautiful instrumental made you feel untouchable.

The embarrassment you would have felt many months ago had been rightfully kicked away by the comfort of knowing you were allowed to simply be you in the presence of the boys. It took weeks- if not longer- of encouragement to finally crack you out of your seemingly unbreakable shell of self-preservation. But now here you were, dancing along to one of your favorite songs without a care in the world, knowing you were being watched by your boyfriends. You were swaying in almost perfect sync with the song, eyes closed, a small smile on your face as you sang along.

Hey ah na na Innocence is over Hey ah na na, over Hey ah na na Ignorance is spoken Hey ah na na, spoken Hey ah na na Confidence is broken Hey ah na na broken

This was one of your slower mixtapes that you always liked putting on after passing around a joint with the boys. It was a mixtape that always made you rise from your spot beside Paul and Dwayne, your head bobbing slowly and your hips following along with the music. The first few songs you were usually able to get Marko to join you in your music possessed state, by the time the third song is finished though he takes your old spot on the couch and watches you along with the others.

You’re not always alone after that though, sometimes when Star doesn’t have plans with Michael she joins you too. Her movements didn’t differ much from your own. The initial stiffness worked out by the buzz you both rode off of.

A new song came on after ‘Rotten Apple’ finally came to a close, Cold by The Cure played throughout the cave. You dropped down from the fountain and walked over to Paul slowly, plucking the joint from his fingers making him whine playfully before sitting back and watching you sway your hips as you took a long hit. You passed it back to him and grazed your fingertips over his jaw before straightening your back. You turned to walk back over to the fountain but your wrist was caught by a gloved hand, Marko stared up at you, feigning innocence as he gently pulled you down to straddle his lap.

Your lungs were still full of smoke as he cupped the back of your head and brought you forward, his lips touching your own. You knew exactly what he wanted. With a slow exhale you shared a smokey kiss, his lips were soft and his hands held you softly against his chest. Your own fingers were buried in the curly hair at the nape of his neck, brushing against your knuckles as you silently hoped your rings wouldn’t get caught. You separated and he locked eyes with you, a smirk now playing on his lips as he brushed his thumb over your heated cheek.

Everything as cold as life Can no one save you? Everything as cold as silence And you never say a word

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and exhaled the smoke you had passed. You planted three soft kisses on his neck before slipping from his hold and squeezing yourself between him and Paul. Marko’s hand came down to lay on your thigh as you leaned more into Paul, throwing your legs over the curly haired vampire’s lap letting him play with the fishnets you were wearing underneath your ripped jeans. Paul’s arm slung around your shoulder with his hand resting on your other, his back leaning against the arm of the couch and wedged his right leg between you and the back cushion in order to make your position against him more comfortable.

“You want another hit before I put this out?” He said quietly next to your ear, showing you the now tiny joint that he held with the tips of his fingers. You nodded against his shoulder, he brought it to your lips letting you inhale as much as you could before putting it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. You leaned your head back on his shoulder and blew the smoke out towards the ceiling, much like Marko had done.

Marko’s fingers picked at your fishnets absently as he continued to stare up at the tall ceiling of the cave, watching his pigeons flutter by occasionally. David was smoking a cigarette and watching you all, a small smile curling around the butt. Dwayne taps his fingers gently along with the newest song that played, he was reading one of the new horror novels you had bought him. Paul was humming quietly behind you, fingers tracing shapes in your shoulder while planting featherlight kisses on your neck.

All my missions float away I never trained too hard I'm so caught up in the tree of stars Falling in my backyard She'll always be what I can't find She'll always be where I break down She'll always hide behind a star I'll always dream she can't be far

You couldn’t help but reminisce a bit, remembering how reluctant you had been at first to be fully yourself around them, scared you would be met with the same criticism you were met with at home. When you weren’t, it felt like a weight was being slowly lifted from your shoulders. They all taught you that there was no need in pretending to be someone you weren’t in order to satisfy others. They coaxed the wildside out of you, making you feel the most comfortable you have ever felt in your whole life.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Dwayne asked, no longer reading the book in his lap, he had an almost tranquil looking smile on his face as he looked over at you.

You returned the smile, your eyes lidded and your mind moving in slow motion, “Just thinking about how happy I am.” You gushed, the loving smile not faltering “I love you guys.”

You practically watched Dwayne’s eyes turn to hearts as he stared at you. Marko turned his head, his own eyes soft with a cute smile on his lips. Paul’s fingers twisted through your hair softly, kissing your neck, shoulder and cheek.

“You’re such a softie babe.” He joked, his nose pressing against your cheek softly as he kissed up your jaw.

Letting out a quiet chuckle you reached over and grabbed Marko’s hand, threading your fingers with his. You looked over to David who’s already staring at you from his wheelchair. He has a smirk on his lips as usual, but his eyes have softened too- something you rarely catch- before he winks and takes another inhale of his almost fully smoked cigarette.

“What’s got you all sappy tonight?” Marko teased. His fingers go back to picking carefully at your fishnets, lifting them from your legs and letting go over and over.

You shrug against Paul “I was just thinking about how much you guys have helped me. Being my shoulder to cry on and stuff.” Another chuckle passes through you softly “I just feel like I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t accidentally run into Dwayne, y’know?”

It was true. Before you met them you felt as if only certain parts of yourself were allowed to be spoken openly about, closing the more sensitive bits away in order to keep those around you comfortable. With the fear of criticism discarded in the presence of your boyfriends, it was like a breath of fresh air. Your body feels weightless around them, a certain type of excitement coming form wholly embracing yourself for who you are and being rewarded for it. Your enthusiasm about things wasn’t met with a strange look or an offhand comment, your anger about certain topics wasn’t met with guilt tripping, not with them. While they weren’t the most mature people you ever met, they at least understood how to make someone feel comfortable and loved.

“Aww you’re so cute.” Marko commented before leaning over you and kissing you on the lips. His hand cupping your cheek gently.

Your happiness was with them...

#the lost boys #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys imagines #tlb imagine #poly tlb #the lost boys x reader #paul imagine #dwayne imagine #david imagine #marko imagine #monster writes

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jarienn972 · 4 years ago

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Weathering the Storm - Part Four

For a multitude of reasons, it has been ages since I've been able to update this story. I had the chapter all plotted out, but never seemed to be able to find time (or sometimes just motivation) to write. I appreciate those who reached out to me asking if I planned to update it and I thank you so much for your patience! I absolutely plan to finish it and right now, there are 2 more planned chapters to close everything out.

For now though, since it has been a few months, here’s a quick recap of where we left off in the last chapter: Emma braved the elements to investigate the abandoned Sheriff cruiser, and after seeing the dashcam video, knows that her husband is injured after the disastrous traffic stop. She's made the assumption that Killian would try to make his way to the closest dwelling to the lonely stretch of highway - Zelena's farmhouse. We're going to pick up at that same farmhouse as the unrelenting thunderstorm continues.

If you’d like to catch up from the beginning, you can find all of the current chapters on FF.net and AO3. Tumblr: Part One Part Two Part Three

Despite the warm glow from the flickering orange and gold flames in the fireplace behind her chair, the lingering dreariness of the day was wearing heavily on Zelena's mood. The sky was still laden with dull, grey clouds unleashing unholy torrents of rain upon the farmhouse's metal roof and continuous gusts of wind threatened to blow away the fluttering blue tarp which was only barely protecting them from the elements.

Oh, what she wouldn't have given right now if she could still possess the ability to poof them all away from this isolated outpost deep in the forest. Maybe she shouldn't have been so hasty and rammed that beat up old jalopy of hers into the Black Fairy. She wasn't particularly good at driving the beast but perhaps she could have managed to get into town… Oh, heavens...who was she kidding? In this weather, she wouldn't have made it to the end of the drive, and anyway, the ugly, metal death-trap was still sitting on a lot in town, rusting away as it awaited repairs. It hadn't been a high priority to fix when she'd had electricity and a working telephone to call Regina who'd pop in with supplies and whatever if she needed a hand with something. If she couldn't solve the problem with magic from a distance, she'd drive out to help her sister and niece, but she certainly couldn't do that right now.

At least, she could be thankful for the simple fact that Robin would sleep through almost anything when she had a full tummy. She couldn't recall the exact time she'd put her daughter down for her afternoon nap, but she estimated that it had been about an hour and a half, meaning her child was going to awaken soon and Zelena would have to figure out a way to entertain a cranky toddler in a dark, drafty house. For now though, the exasperated mom was enjoying the quiet reprieve from this stress-filled day before Robin was awake and wanting to play ,and then Zelena would also have to figure a way to keep the baby from bothering their guest.

Their guest.

How long had it been now since Hook showed up sopping wet on her doorstep? Two hours? Closer to three? Surely Emma would have realized that something was amiss if she'd not heard from her husband by now. How long might it take before someone realized that he was lying on her sofa right at this very moment? He was still semi-peacefully slumbering after taking a swig of the children's pain reliever which might have taken enough of the edge off to allow him to rest - or he'd just passed out from sheer agony and exhaustion.

Either way, she tried to distract herself with a little bit of reading by the firelight. The dancing flames cast odd shadows across the pages making the text difficult to see at times, but then she wasn't fully paying attention to the prose before her. She could scarcely recall a thing she'd read from the prior chapter, much less the last paragraph. She just needed something - anything - to keep her weary mind occupied during this brief reprieve. She was going bloody stir crazy, even beginning to believe she was hearing things that weren't there. She'd swear she just heard something rapping on the kitchen window, but quickly dismissed the thought, figuring it was just the swirling wind rattling the creaky door.

Until she was certain that she heard the sound of her name being called over the howling of the storm.

**********

Emma had briefly considered poofing herself right into the center of Zelena's kitchen, but decided against it at the last second, instead materializing from a cloud of pale grey smoke on the front porch instead. While she was somewhat protected from the storm by the narrow extension of the roof, rain water poured over the eaves in sheets. Considering that the gravel driveway leading up from the road had morphed into a shallow, muddy lake, the porch was relatively dry in comparison, although Emma wasn't certain just how protected she was from Mother Nature's fury when a bolt of lightning lit up the darkened skies. The tin roof above her head probably wasn't the safest right now…

She took a long stride closer to the door, wiping away some condensation from the glass with her sleeve as she peered through the window. She couldn't make out much inside the empty kitchen as it was fairly dark with a faint orangish glow in the distance. Zelena probably had a fire burning to provide some light and heat to stave off the chills with the power still out. She couldn't hear any voices emanating from the interior of the house, but it was possible that the noise of the rain striking the metal roof was drowning out any sounds from inside. But in the dim backlight provided by the firelight, Emma could make out a dark mass draped around the back of one of the ladderback chairs - a shape that looked decidedly like the collar and shoulders of a coat. A dark coat that had enough of a sheen on its surface to reflect the warm hue of the flames. Just like a certain black leather coat that her husband had been wearing when he departed for the station this morning.

Please, let that be Killian's coat, she begged of whatever higher power might be listening as she knocked anxiously on the window. Not noticing any movement inside the farmhouse, she rapped again, but this time on the wooden door instead of the glass as her sight fell upon a ruddy stain upon the white paint. Was that blood?

"Zelena?" she shouted, hoping that her voice would carry louder than her knocking. "Zelena? Are you in there?" Well, that was a stupid question...Of course she had to be inside. Most people wouldn't leave home with a fire still burning and where exactly would she go? Even if she'd managed to get her crappy car running, there was no way she would have made it into town in this downpour. She probably wouldn't have reached the end of the driveway… "Zelena!" she cried out even louder this time.

Seeing the familiar hue of the former witch's wild auburn hair through the steamed up glass, Emma's nerves abated momentarily and she let out a relieved exhale as the door was yanked open.

"Emma?" a startled Zelena muttered as she found the drenched, blonde sheriff standing at her doorstep, but her mood instantly lifted. "I am so happy to see you! I was hoping that you'd soon figure out your husband came here to seek help."

"Thank goodness. There weren't many places he could have gone, so I was really hoping he made it here. He recorded the whole thing on the dashcam, so I know he was shot. Is he alright?" Emma tried to keep her nerves in check, but as she rambled on, she knew she was failing miserably.

"He's in on the sofa. He's sleeping right now. Well, at least I think he's sleeping… He's been in and out of consciousness," Zelena explained as she waved Emma inside. Emma brushed past the redhead who closed the door quickly before the wind blew any more of the never-ending precipitation into the kitchen. Zelena continued detailing all she'd done to help, even though she doubted Emma heard half of it. "I've tried my best to get the bleeding under control. It isn't near as heavy as it was before, but he still lost a lot. The bullet that hit him went clean through and I don't think anything too vital was struck, but I really don't know for certain. He's still a bloody mess and a bit feverish. I tried giving him some of Robin's baby ibuprofen to help with the pain too, but I don't have a bloody clue how well that worked..."

Half-listening as she rounded the corner into the living room, Emma made a bee-line over to the sofa where she discovered her husband curled on his side with a woolen blanket draped over him. Even with the golden glow cast by the flames, his skin bore a deathly pallor. "Oh, Killian…," she sighed as she dropped to her knees on the floor beside him. She cupped her palm around his cheek, finding it cool and clammy beneath the warmth of her fingers. A muted, but guttural moan escaped his throat as he stirred at her touch. He blinked twice in the low light but as his sight adjusted, his eyelids parted fully to focus on the unexpected, but magnificent face of his true love.

"Swan?" he mumbled, his muddled brain trying to determine if she was real or just a cruel hallucination.

"It's me," Emma smiled, happy to find him conscious and communicative. "I'm here and I'm going to get you help…"

"Now that you can heal him, it'll all be fine," Zelena spoke up. "I would have already done that if I still had my magic, but now Emma can get you all fixed up," she gave a nod to Killian but the expression that crossed Emma's face confused her.

"Unfortunately, it isn't quite that simple…," Emma groaned in frustration. "Because this situation involved criminals from outside of Storybrooke, I had to have David notify the state police and put out a bulletin to watch for the vehicle. They'll have questions about the shooting, and if the deputy who they can see being shot on dashcam footage is suddenly, miraculously healed, those questions are going to get uncomfortable and weird and cast doubt on the whole thing. I don't even think that saying Killian was wearing a bulletproof vest would hold up under the circumstances…"

"So, what does that mean?" Zelena questioned.

"I'll have to get him back to Whale - transport him directly to the hospital…"

Emma was cut off mid-sentence as the storm unleashed a tremendous gust of wind that blasted through the broken window, billowing out the tarp until the nails could no longer hold and the resulting gush extinguished the fire. Swirls of raindrops, leaves and other debris were forced through the opening as the tarp floundered and flopped about the floor. Without a moment's hesitation, she spun around and raised her hands. In a split-second, a magical wave of bright light filled the room, vanquishing the tarp and all of the storm debris as it repaired the damaged window, restoring it to its original state like its twin further down the living room wall.

Zelena breathed a sigh of relief as the threat of further damage subsided for the time being, even though the room was plunged into darkness without the flames illuminating it. She wasn't going to miss that ugly plastic sheet, nor would she miss the drafts and rainwater that seeped in around its edges.

"Thank you for fixing that awful eyesore," Zelena said as Robin let out a terrified wail after being awakened by all of the commotion. "I'm coming, my love," she assured her daughter but she also gave Emma a quizzical look before heading over to the play yard. "Do you think you're going to have to explain that one?" she asked Emma with a gesture towards the repaired window.

"Hopefully, it won't come to it, but I suppose I'll think of something, if necessary," Emma replied as she turned her attention back to her wounded husband while Zelena scooped up a whimpering toddler. "Okay, one crisis averted," she whispered as she gently squeezed her husband's bicep through the blanket. "Let's get you into town so we can get you fixed up too."

Killian gave a weak nod and allowed his eyes to fall closed again as he steeled himself for teleportation, never knowing how rough the landing may be when they re-materialized. The commonplace of magical transport was something this grizzled mariner was still getting used to.

"Take us with you," Zelena interrupted. Unprepared for such a request, Emma glanced upward into the pleading eyes of the redhead who was still bouncing a teary-eyed toddler on her hip.

"What?" Emma stammered, her brow knitted in confusion. Had she heard that right?

"Please… Will you transport us there with you? I promise, we will be out of your way as soon as we get there. I'll call Regina to come pick us up, but I can't stay isolated out here in this bloody storm with no power and no way to get in touch with anyone. I hate not having magic anymore… I don't want to be a bother, but please…?"

"Um...sure, I guess," Emma responded. "For everything you've done for Killian today, I suppose it's the least I could do."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" the former witch gushed. "Let me grab Robin's things. I'll be less than a minute!" She scurried into the bedroom to collect Robin's diaper bag as well as a jacket for each of them, then quickly darted into the kitchen to grab the baby's pre-made evening bottle, which the little one eyed greedily as they returned to the living room. Her final task was to toss a pitcher of water onto the smoldering remnants of the fire to ensure it was completely out before they vacated the farmhouse. Returning to Emma's side, Zelena gave her daughter a tight hug and exclaimed: "All ready."

"Then off to Storybrooke Hospital we go," Emma stated, swishing her wrist before the magical cloud enveloped them.

#cs ff #cs fan fic #captain swan ff #killian whump #weathering the storm #gunshot wound #i know this update has been long delayed and is a little short #but i needed to break it there

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whump-town · 4 years ago

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In The Blood

I was going to post it all in one go and then I thought about it and I was like... you know, if @masterwords did it in two parts maybe I should too. Because I really got to thinking and hey, waiting for that part two HURT. So, I gonna do it too.

Based off an anon’s ask, Unsub kidnaps Hotch to get back at Rossi.

Warning: torture, blood, and angst

Part One

For as long as David Rossi has known Aaron Hotchner, he’s always been a little perplexed about tackling the problem of his handwriting. The kind is as sharp as a tack, that’s undeniable. His profiling skills were unmatched in the academy and what he lacked in extroversion, he made up with in charisma. From the very moment, he met the kid Dave has had nothing but aspirations for the great things he could do. For the things, he would do.

Now, some two decades after he’d rubbed the back of his sick future prodigy, shaking his head in sympathy, he’s sitting at his own desk. A senior agent that shares a wall with that old prodigy, now a unit chief whose puking at crime scenes days have long since passed. But something much worse lurks in his future and his present.

“Hey,” JJ knocks on Dave’s doorframe, smiling. She steps in without him having to say a thing, in her hand is mail. “Downstairs called me,” she tells him, handing him the envelope. “You got some mail and I guess they weren’t sure if they should send it up.” They both know exactly why downstairs called. The sexist bastard treats her like Hotch and Dave’s receptionist. Despite both men having stern, if not borderline unkind, words with them on the matter.

He frowns but takes it from her. “You shouldn’t have had to do that,” he mumbles, glancing at his name on the envelope and reaching for his letter opener with a sigh. “I’ll say something to them,” he promises, sliding the metal through the paper and ripping it open in one clean slice.

“You really don’t have to.”

As he pulls the letter out he stops. His eyes scan over the paper, frowning as he takes in exactly what it is that he’s seeing. “JJ,” he says, removing his left hand from the paper but keeping his thumb and pointer finger on it. “I need you to get someone up here,” he says calmly. There’s a fine layer of grim on the paper. Dirt and, the worst part, blood. Thick droplets that have nearly eaten through the paper. More identifiable than all of that? Hotch’s thin, chicken scratch handwriting.

“Why?” she asks, stepping around his desk to look. She takes the letter in slowly, breath hissing in a shocked inhale. “That’s--”

Jason and Dave could never read his damn handwriting. It’s illegible and made significantly worse by the fact that his palm smears the writing. When Derek and Hotch had confronted Jason about hiring some diversity (the bullpen had way too much testosterone and they really needed a woman on the team), they hadn’t had a type in mind. Hell, hiring Garcia had been an “on a whim” sort of thing (Jason’s exact had been “whatever you think is best”). JJ’s best feature? She’d glanced at the note Hotch had left for Gideon and read it without a problem. Like it was easy.

Now, standing over Dave’s shoulder, stomach twisting sickly, she scans over his shaky lettering. Breath catching as she reads things she… It’s horrific to watch pictures line themselves up on the screen, Garcia turning her head from them as she explains what they can all see but to read it. To have to stand here and read horrific things someone has done to someone you love. To a friend, in their own writing, it’s…

“What do we do?” she asks softly.

Dave wishes he couldn’t make out a single line of writing. As selfish as the notion is, he needs ignorance.

The line that he can’t get out of his head? “I am so sorry, Dave.”

Morgan waste no haste in making himself the leading agent. Which is no real problem because Dave has no interest in taking charge of this situation. He just wants to hold onto his letter, the only connection he has to Hotch right now.

How had they not noticed he was gone?

“I should have known something was wrong.” The admission takes them all by surprise, mostly because it leaves Emily’s mouth with such conviction that no one’s really sure what to say. They aren’t given the chance as she tucks her arms around her chest and shakes her head at herself. “I knew something was wrong when Foyet attacked him,” she observes. “I should have known this time.”

But… how could she? This time was different.

Jack is away with Jessica. Spending time with his cousin because Hotch secretly fears that the boy spending too much time with him will spell nothing but misfortune for his future. Which is simply not true. Hotch has taught that child grace that none of them have ever seen in a child. He’s too much like Hotch but not in bad ways. In his ghost-like gait. Never making a sound as he moves. While it surely isn’t genetic, he’d acquired his father’s silent intuition and those softly pained brown eyes.

But, perhaps, that is what Hotch fears.

That fear has cost them days. Now, they can not measure how long Hotch has been held captive wherever he is. Has he been gone since last Thursday? Taken from the office or from his home? Jack had already taken off with Jessica, gone to spend time with his cousins. Had it been Saturday morning while he was out for his morning jog? After coffee Sunday when he was getting lost in the bookstore in town?

No one knows.

How could they?

“His pills,” Dave mumbles. He stands from his chair, frowning as his brain races. “On his counter,” the information is coming too quickly. “For his birthday five years ago Emily got him a pill sorter.” Hotch hadn’t found it very funny (he’d pretended not to) but Emily had beamed at him. Very proud of herself and her old man gifts. “One of the ones that label Sunday to Saturday-- each day.”

It had been both a gag gift and one of purpose. Foyet’s attack had left its damage, physical and mental. He’d had a bag full of medications to take home from the hospital. Some angiotensin prescription for his kidneys, an anticlotting/blood-thinning agent for the ruined veins in his chest, and a few more Dave can’t even remember. Never mind the fist full of medications he’d been on since about twenty for mental disorders that had never officially been written down as diagnoses to allow him to keep his job.

The point is-- if Hotch was on top of himself about his medication, they can get a rough estimate of how long he’s been gone.

It’s a great idea…

“What if he…” Emily goes with Dave to check Hotch’s house. They both have keys and it’s unspoken that if Hotch were here he’d certainly prefer it be the two of them rooting around his things. Besides, they know how he is and they know what to expect the second they walk in.

They also know that as good as Dave’s idea is, there’s a silent fear shared between them that he hasn’t been on top of his health. It happens occasionally but mostly around the dates of Foyet’s attack. Still, not taking those medications and being gone for over four days is going to be some really unfortunate things for Hotch. Withdrawals, mostly, but scarier than that? Without the blood thinners, there’s a possibility of a stroke.

“He’ll be fine,” Dave mumbles, slipping his key into the lock of the door. Pushing the door open, Dave steps into the house. Hotch’s car wasn’t in the driveway which tells them a minimal amount of information but will give Garcia’s something to run with. Right now they need to focus on their task.

The house is cool and dark, the curtains in the living room drawn completely shut. If Jack isn’t home Hotch prefers the darkness, despite the strain it puts on his eyes. Stepping in, neither bother to turn on the lights. The sun peaks just barely through the thin curtains and, if they’re being honest, they don’t want to break the illusion both have created in their minds.

That Hotch is merely sleeping.

His phone is on silent.

He’s sleeping.

The notion is strong enough to make Emily hesitates as she stands outside his bedroom door.

She’s only been in his room twice. The first time to soothe his broken screams, waking him from yet another nightmare that threatened to consume him. He’d clung to her, sobbing into the old fabric of the shirt he’d given her to sleep in. She’d slept right there with him.

The second time came only a month after Haley’s funeral. He’d smelled like he’d consumed a small brewery but she’d still tucked his comforter around him. Placing Advil and a glass of water on his nightstand for when he woke up. Even getting the trashcan out to place by the side of his bed.

He trusts her.

Closing her eyes, she opens the door, and her illusion is broken. He’s not in bed.

His bed isn’t made, which makes her smile sadly. For such a literal suit and tie man, he’s got some strange habits. One of which is that he doesn’t make his bed. It’s cute, adds character. She doesn’t get the chance to dwell on that for too long. There are more pressing matters to deal with.

Stepping in she rolls her eyes at the pair of boxers he’s got thrown up onto his dresser, his nightstand drawer open where he must have rummaged for something-- she’s guessing the Advil bottle laying on its side. There’s a book on the other half of his bed, open and print down, his reading glasses on the cover. The sight, of which, would have Reid gasping in horror.

She heads in, deeper, headed towards the bathroom attached to his room. There she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. His pills are nowhere in sight but it’s worth her little trip down here.

“Find them,” she asks, coming back to the kitchen.

Dave nods and slides the box to her, allowing her to make her own observations as he continues to talk on the phone.

Wednesday is the last tab open. He hasn’t had any medicine since Thursday. He was at work Thursday when JJ left, the second to last out. She’d stopped in to talk to him about a formality from their last case. Essentially, things are not looking good.

“We’ll find him,” Emily mumbles. She flicks mindlessly at the tab of the organizer and looks up at Dave. “We will, right?”

Dave shrugs. He doesn’t know.

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

Head hanging between his knees, Hotch leans his temple against his bare knee. Sweat mixes with the dirty water dripping from the roof of the old cellar, it’s hard to tell which is running down his face. He’s stripped to his boxers, left to shiver and suffer through the elements. The cement floor and rock walls sapping what little heat his body can properly offer him.

By now, his letter should have arrived to Dave. That is if he can trust a word the Unsub has said to him thus far. That this whole mess-- mess as if disconnecting them both from his actions-- has nothing to do with Hotch. The Unsub had lifted Hotch’s head, forcing Hotch to look at him, with the edge of a knife.

“This,” he’d sneered, “is about what David Rossi took from me. He took my son and now--” He’d dragged that knife against Hotch’s cheek, almost stroking. “Now, I’m going to take his away from him.”

Nothing personal, the Unsub had promised.

It had felt personal.

A baseball bat coming down over his body, ignoring his pained cried. Not relenting when his arm had broken with a snap, Hotch’s cry rasping as he’d writhed and tried to twist and pull the limb away from the attention of that bat. Only to expose his sides and have the air forced from his body. He hadn’t stopped when Hotch no longer cried out. Going on long after Hotch lay still, breathing a wet rasping, and head rolled to the side to show the whites of his eyes.

Hotch had awoken to a harsh push. Pulled upright by two arms scooping up under his arms and forcing him upright. He couldn’t help the rasped, confused cry he’d let out as his broken arm was pulled up, the pen placed into his palm. “Write.”

He’d blinked blood from his eyes as he slurred out a question. He can’t even remember what it’d been.

“You’re telling David Rossi that it’s going to be his fault when your body shows up on his doorstep.” The Unsub had smiled, running a finger along Hotch’s jaw. “Tell him what I did to you. That you hate him.”

Hotch’s breathing had hitched in his chest. He looked back down at the paper. “I don’t,” he’d slurred and hadn’t even had time to think before his head was roughly pushed into the hard rock wall beside him. Hotch’s eyes had rolled into his head, boding seizing up, and a weak pained sob tearing from his mouth before his eyes had rolled into his back, and he’d gone limp.

Three.

He took three beatings before he caved. Pen to the paper he’d bleed and cried the whole way. Shaking and only half cognizant of himself and his actions. Hopeful his awful handwriting and probable brain damage made his words eligible. That way Dave and no doubt the others might be spared his rampant thoughts.

They hadn’t.

With a crack, the wooden door of the cellar opens and Hotch flinches raising his left hand to protect his eyes from the light that comes in.

“Aaron?”

Hotch pushes himself away from the Unsub. Moving until his back hits the opposite wall. “Please,” he whimpers.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Unsub promises. He crouches down, squatting. “It’s over,” he whispers. “Just come with me now, son. This last part is going to be fast but it won’t hurt.”

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

Hotch had gone missing Friday.

Garcia found his car and the tickets it had wracked up in his absence. Right outside the little book shop, he frequents on days off or in-between breaks. Quant and warm. Garcia had watched him take a seat by a window, tears streaming down her face as he opened his book and sipped his coffee. Would this be the last time she ever saw him?

Dave had found a similar solace in the recording. Some street camera that caught the moment.

They’d all stood and watched, transfixed as Hotch finally left that coffee shop. They knew what was going to happen next but they still weren’t ready. A figure came out of nowhere, aiming something low to Hotch’s abdomen whatever was said between the two of them stopped Hotch from moving. He nodded, once and followed the other man.

Then he was gone.

All they have is the letter.

JJ shakes as she reads the words on the page. It’s hard to tell which parts are worse. Hotch’s nonsense rambles, his fragmented thoughts that hardly sound like him at all. The descriptions that he does his best to throw in. Wet, damp, and cold. He doesn’t know where he is just that he’s in pain. His hand trembles too much during certain parts and she can’t even make out the letters. Tears rip and obscure other words. It breaks her heart to think of what he must be going through.

“He’s standing over my shoulder as I write this. Watching me. Three times I have failed to put this off. Three times he has beaten me for my refusal. As he hits me he tells me this is your fault. That it’s as simple as an eye for an eye. You killed his son and he’s getting even. I’m afraid that I’m starting to believe him.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Derek assures Dave. But Dave isn’t even paying mind to that particular comment. Hotch can hate Dave until one of them dies for all Dave cares but Dave’s going to bring him home. No matter what. What’s bothering him is the statement about Dave killing someone’s son. He’s had to kill many Unsubs over the years.

JJ can’t force herself to continue to voice his words, her scanning the paper as tears make their slow descend across her cheeks. He writes something of Jack, the pen drags and she can’t make out the words just “sorry”, “better father”, and “love”.

When she gives it to Reid, allowing him to make his own inferences (and search for a message in Hotch’s madness that isn’t there) she has to leave the room. Head bowed and heart thundering, she allows her legs to move on command, and before she knows it--

The room smells like Hotch. Rough undertones of mildew, the room’s old and the carpet even older, but Hotch. Moving with a slowness she can’t explain, she pulls in every piece of him she can find in here. Closing her eyes so she can imagine he’s sitting behind that old desk, scribbling away at files. Until she’s standing at the couch. Without a second thought, she climbs onto the stiff thing. Pressing her face into the cushions and pulling the spare blanket he keeps across the back over herself.

What would he say if he saw her now?

He’s unpredictably predictable. Empathy or strength? He’d always had this innate ability to fathom both at any moment. She’d loved that about him. Love, reminds herself. She loves that about him. He’s not gone yet.

“Are you okay?” Reid’s hesitantly standing in the doorway.

From the couch, she can see the twinkle of tears in his eyes. With a smile, she opens the blanket and invites him in. “Come on,” she offers, scooting over just a little bit more. “It’s not like Hotch is here to fuss at us for a little nap.”

Reid looks over his shoulder and comes into the room, pausing as he looks over at Hotch’s desk. “I miss him,” he confesses softly, sitting down on the edge of the couch. He doesn’t say anything JJ scoots up, placing her head on his lap. He pulls some of the blanket to his own lap.

“Me too,” JJ mumbles.

It’s only been a few days. He’s been gone weeks on leave. After Foyet, he was gone an entire month. Then, at least, they could swing by his apartment with pizza or Chinese food and he’d let them in with a tired smile. Softly admonishing them for being there when they should be at home getting some rest. But he’d been there. Readily available for a quick hug or to let them take his couch hostage to spend time with him.

“We’re going to…” Reid’s voice dies out as he second-guesses his question. “He’s going to come back, right?”

JJ closes her eyes.

Her reply never comes.

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

“Hello?” Dave is heading out to get some fresh air, very aware of the tail he’s accumulated along the way. Emily won’t let him out of her sight but this time it’s Derek’s doing that has her coming along. He doesn’t mind. When he gets the call he doesn’t even break stride.

“David Rossi.”

His pace comes to a dead stop.

Emily, a few feet behind sees.

“You son of a bitch--”

“Now, now,” the Unsub mumbles tsking. “Don’t be like that David. Don’t act like I’m the only bad guy here. Besides, we don’t need poor Aaron hearing language like that.”

Dave glances over his shoulder, spotting Emily and her timid, if not fearful, walk up to him. “What do you want?” Dave asks.

The Unsub chuckles, “you already know, David. Eye for an eye. You took what was mine and now--”

Dave closes his eyes at the sound of a whimper, Aaron.

“Now, I’m going to take what is yours.”

With a shake of his head, Dave says, “he’s not mine! He’s just a colleague. A friend!”

The Unsub hums sadly. “David,” he chides, “don’t lie to me. I watched you. His son comes to your house nearly every weekend. You love him. Tell him.” Hotch cries out in pain, the phone held now to his face as the Unsub grips his hair to keep his head tilted up. “Tell him, David. Tell him that he’s nothing more than a colleague.”

Dave shuts his eyes flinching as his words are repeated to Hotch. Shaking with fury when he can hear those words being used against them both. Drawing whimpers and a single breathless plea from Hotch for the Unsub to stop. “Please stop. Please, just stop.”

“Tell him, David!”

Dave turns his head, finding Emily and her wide sad eyes.

“Aaron?”

“Dave?”

“Hey, son.”

“Dave… he--he’s going to kill me.”

A tear falls down Dave’s cheek. Looking at Emily, he can tell she can hear them. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

A sharp cry breaks through the other line. Pained. Strained. Hotch’s plea-- “no! Please!”-- cut off by a sharp crack. Then nothing.

“Please,” Dave grips the phone tight. “He’s got a little boy,” Dave knows he’s playing with nothing here but he has to do something. “His name is Jack, he’s only eight. Aaron, he-- Aaron has to take medicine, already! Please! He’s on blood thinners! You’ll kill him--”

The Unsubs comes back, breathless, and scoffs. “That’s the point David. I’ll talk to you soon.” The line goes dead.

Dave throws his phone to the ground with a shout. “Fuck!” He falls to his knees, head in his hands.

Aaron Hotchner is going to die and it’s going to be his fault.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds fanfiction #jack hotchner

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loudsuitlover · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry XIX. Cuarto movimiento: La realidad

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Preview

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

BLUE’S POV

Coco and I are late. When we enter the café, I tell the waitress Olivia’s name and she leads us to our table. The three of them are already sitting on the table and Ollie smiles relieved at our presence. She might be really hungry or maybe she just doesn’t know what to do about Marie and Jason.

They had a fight the other day. Apparently, it had to do with David Dick. Marie said something bad about it, also known as the truth, but Jason said she shouldn’t be talking about him to people who didn’t even known them. I have stayed out of this. No one has asked for my opinion either, thank God, so I’m just on backstage, waiting for them to make up.

The second Coco and I sit down, Ollie waves the waitress. She tells us we can think what we want while they order but I already know what I want anyway. A strawberry milkshake and the Nutella croissant. Coco orders a waffle and a vanilla milkshake and Marie gets surprised at our quickness. I just smile at her.

I tell them about the wedding while we eat and they keep swooning and making comments that make me blush. I show them the hundreds of pictures we got, for his mum and his cousin Laura had been stealing shots at us and also the photographer of the wedding thought it important to get pictures of the bride’s brother.

“Jesus Christ, he looked good.” Ollie says.

I laugh and she gives me a naughty smile.

“So do you, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No, seriously, Blue” Coco insists “you looked like a movie star.”

I don’t know how many times Coco’s seen the photos but she’s always been the supportive sister and ever since she’s in love, it’s just been something else. She’s so happy she has enough bliss to give the rest of us.

“Can you believe” Ollie says when she comes back from the loo “that I’ve forgotten to put on knickers?”

“What do you mean you’ve forgotten?” Coco laughs.

“I’m just not wearing any.” She shrugs.

“And you realize now?”

“When I went to the loo.”

Marie shakes her head with a smile and I chuckle at my friend’s careless being.

“Yeah and she would have been terribly late if I hadn’t called her.” Marie says. “It looks like she had a busy night with Mario.”

Olivia smiles.

“Right, because Adam and you were surely asleep at 9 pm.”

Jason laughs out loud.

“So Indie, what time did you go to bed last night?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Actually, pretty early. I think it was like 10 pm and I slept alone. In my own bed.”

“Oh, did Harry have work?”

“No” I chuckle “he was home, I guess. We don’t spend every minute together, you know?”

JJ shrugs.

“If I were with a man who could pull off a white fucking suit like Harry, I know I would be with him every minute.”

Then it’s me who shakes my head and laughs.

We haven’t been out all together since last week when we went shopping and even then, Jason wasn’t there so it feels like ages that we don’t just chat around and have something sweet together.

Marie tells us about her grandparent’s golden wedding too and we all drool over the pictures because they look so adorable.

“¡Madre mía, Marie!” My sister says. “You look so good too! Look at that red dress! Where was the red carpet, madam?”

Marie blushes and giggles and Jason smiles tenderly at my sister. I see the way Olivia’s looking at her, with her teasing smile, and I know Coco’s in for some Olivia jokes.

“Guido must be good.”

Coco’s confused eyes drift to Olivia’s.

“Or have a huge dick.”

My sister clicks her tongue and shakes her head giving our crazy friend a look but she just smiles.

“If it has anything to do with genetics” she starts “that should be the case.”

We all laugh and my sister’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Oh my God, it is!” Jason celebrates.

He seems so happy. He’s been laughing and joking around and even though sometimes he still gets a little into his own head, I reckon he’s gotta have to deal with a lot of thinking these next months. I remember when Javier and I broke up, it was like that for me too. Yet that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I wish him and Marie would make up. They are good for one another. They complement each other like sweet and sour and I know Marie’s sorry. I can tell by the way she looks at him.

After breakfast, the five of us go shopping. I’m not a big fan of shopping, to be honest, I get headaches and hate trying clothes on but these guys love it so that’s what we’ll do. Coco and Ollie are a very dangerous duo. If it wasn’t for the rest of us, they’d be in debt by now.

They make Jason walk into Agent Provocateur even though he tries to remind us that he’s actually bisexual and can’t really give his opinion on this without getting killed.

“You can keep saying you’re bisexual, you know? But you’re gay, pal.” Olivia says.

“Again, the fact that I am not sexually attracted to you does not make me gay.” Jason smirks.

“No, I know, it’s the fact that you always look at guys.”

“I look at girls too. I just don’t tell you about it.”

“And who exactly would kill you?” I tease him, changing Olivia’s crusade on making him gay. “Mario and Adam are teddy bears, Guido’s shorter than you and Harry’s not jealous.”

He laughs.

“D’you think Harry wouldn’t mind if I saw you in lingerie?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Jason smirks. I know it might be hard for him to understand but he is a jealous guy. He knows that, we all do. But Harry isn’t or if he is he handles it like a master and I think that’s the most beautiful thing he could do for me. I never understood why my friends in high school thought when their boyfriends acted like cavemen was something to be happy about. I mean I never really understood that well-trodden thought “he’s jealous because he loves me.” No. “He deals with his own jealousy and lets me be free because he loves me.” That’s how I see it.

“Should we get the same set?” Ollie asks Coco. “You know, in order to surprise the Matteoti brothers.”

My sister blushes and giggles and Olivia grins.

“I hope to God they don’t talk about that to each other.”

Olivia giggles.

“I used to think every man did but I actually think Mario doesn’t.”

“And you’re offended by that?” I offer.

Jason walks towards us swaying his hips like Beyoncé placing a bra over his sweater and the knickers over his jeans and Coco laughs and rushes to his side to stop him. The two of them go to the “funny section” where the crazy lingerie sets are.

I see my sister laughing at whatever it is that crazy Jason is telling her about the outfits.

“No, I just don’t know how he’s still with me.” Ollie says.

I frown as I turn to look at her.

“Hey, guys, do you like these ones?” Marie shows us a red lace crazy knickers with holes where fabric should be.

“I have no idea how you put those on.” Ollie shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I interrupt her.

“I genuinely don’t know with these many holes, it’s-”

“No, I mean about Mario.”

“What about him?” Marie asks.

“She just said she doesn’t know why he’s still with her.”

“What?” Marie frowns.

We both look at Ollie, whose blue-grey eyes are busy with the underwear she’s holding.

“I just don’t know how someone that’s… such a saint can be with me.”

I look at Marie but she just shrugs and gives me her best pursed lips.

“I mean… You guys are very different but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I like him.” Olivia confesses. “I really do, what I don’t like is to constantly feel like I’m waiting for the moment he realizes he doesn’t want to be with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Marie frowns. “I think it’s rather obvious that he’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah,” Ollie tilts her neck “now.”

“You are wonderful and it might not work out but that’s that. Every single relationship might not work out but that’s when you show you’re brave. If you get hurt, well, here we are for chocolate ice-cream or popcorn and movies.”

“Thank you,” she chuckles “but that’s not even what I meant. You guys know I’ve… Fucked around.”

“So?”

“Guys don’t like to thrust their dicks in a public hole.”

Her words freeze my blood. I hate that she thinks so low of herself and I hate society for putting that idea on her mind. I can’t pretend I understand her and I don’t know what I would think if I were her so as much as I want to tell her that’s silly, it might not be. I mean it certainly isn’t if it’s something she really thinks but also, I feel bad and I feel bad because I have been a part of that thought, unconsciously but I have.

I told Harry I didn’t want to be another notch on his belt. Isn’t that the same thing? Only, with men. But didn’t I somehow make him less worth it just because he had been with a lot of girls?

“Don’t you ever speak that way about yourself again.” Marie threatens her.

I am taken aback by her reaction but I let protective Marie take the lead her. I am foolishly speechless.

“I won’t even comment on how degrading and sexist the “public hole” thing is because what’s important here is that you are not a hole, Ollie, for goodness’ sake. Do you really think Mario sees you like that?”

“This is not about Mario.” Olivia defends him.

“Still, don’t insult him by thinking so little of him.”

“And don’t think so little of yourself either, Ollie.” I add. “Fighting sexism starts with oneself, don’t be sexist to yourself, let yourself be free, yeah? And just for the record, if Mario ever left you, it’s clearly his lost.”

“So clearly.” Marie adds.

Olivia just chuckles and wraps her arms around both our shoulders, pulling us into a hug in the middle of the underwear store.

I want to tell her to talk to Mario, to let him in and let him hear how she feels and what she thinks so he can have a chance at telling her the same things about himself but I couldn’t bring myself to be such a hypocrite. How could I tell my friends to talk to their boyfriends when I never do that with Harry?

I mean, we’re getting better or at least I think we are but there are still so many things to work on. I don’t want to hurt him and that means I don’t ever want to talk to him like I usually do. I’ve been thinking so hard about it, since that day he insulted me when we were having dinner at Bellamond. It sounded so terrible and it made me feel so little and unwanted and stupid so to think that’s how he’s felt every time I’ve done it makes me very angry with myself.

I’ve already seen how easy it really is to talk to him. I did at Marie’s house after I said those terrible things to him and he hasn’t made a big deal of it. So then I don’t understand why it is so hard for me to talk to him about what I think, how I feel and what I want… Because the truth is- I want him. He already knows that, I think, but I don’t think he knows how I really feel about him.

I would like to maybe text him right now and tell him I miss him, because it’s true, I do. I’ve barely seen him this week because he went on a congress from Monday to Wednesday and after that we’ve both been busy but I don’t know what’s holding me back. Am I really that scared of rejection?

I can’t get our fight on Marie’s house of my head. I think he let me know that night that he was addicted to me but he didn’t mean it like a good thing. He was sad that I was. I keep thinking lately… Did Javier really break that much?

What if that relationship has turned me into an abuser? I can’t believe I called Harry a junkie. I just… And then what? Then I cried so he would forgive me? I mean that’s what they do. Am I toxic to him?

I know ever since Dylan died I haven’t really been myself. I don’t even like the person that he left behind. I have felt… Empty and cold and heartless, I really have but… That has changed now. It has changed. But what if it has turned me into some sort of monster? What if I’m not capable of loving?

Out of all the people in the world who doesn’t deserve that, Harry’s the one who least deserves any of that.

“You can tell me.” Jason says.

We’re both sitting down on two velvety armchairs as the girls try things on. I give him a look.

“Whatever is troubling you, you can tell me.”

I sigh.

“Do you think I’m cold?” My eyes investigate his so he can’t lie.

“How do you mean?” His eyes narrow.

“I mean… Do you think… Do I remind you of David?”

“Of David?” He almost stands up from his chair as he frowns and turns to look at me. “You? Of course not! You’re nothing like David!”

“Well, you don’t know the way I treat Harry…”

Jason straightens his back before he sighs.

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you did so I can decide?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.” I shrug.

“You’re sorry, that’s what you are, which means you’re nothing like David.”

“What if I am? It’s not enough with being sorry, is it? The thing is never doing it again and I keep hurting him.”

“How?”

“I… I speak very harshly to him sometimes and I tell him terrible things… I… I don’t want to hurt him, you know? He’s become someone important to me, someone I care about. I would never hurt him and yet I keep doing just that and I don’t even know why.”

I look away from him and Jason sighs again.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I tilt my neck to look back at him the moment he quotes The Perks of Being a Wallflower. He’s stern and understanding. I frown, I don’t know what the fuck does that have to do with anything of this but I listen because I love this guy more than I love most people.

“Indie” He reaches for my hand “is it possible that you do that when you feel like he’s getting too close?”

I look away. I don’t think it matters why I do it. I don’t think it would have hurt less that I had known the reason why Javier had me tied up on the bed. And what if the reason doesn’t have a solution? I mean what if the reason is my subconscious is trying to put him away from Dylan’s place? What do I do about that?

“Indie, I can’t pretend I understand what it’s like to lose somebody you love as much as you loved Dylan-”

“I love Dylan.” I correct him.

“You love Dylan, sorry. But… Dylan… I mean… D’you think he would want you to be lonely?”

I don’t answer him nor do I look into his eyes that investigate me.

“Put on his shoes.” He whispers. “Imagine the story the other way, imagine you were him and he was yourself. What would you want for him?”

I let his words take me to that parallel world sometimes I wished it was the real one. If I had died that night, then Dylan would be here and if angels existed then I would be the one for him and I would look after him and protect him from whatever cloud angels get on the sky. But what if I saw him with another woman? What if I heard the same things he said to me said to her? What if he loved her more than he loved me? What would I be then?

I remember my therapist trying to sow that idea in my head- that we have to let go, that no person can live in the past forever, and that letting go doesn’t mean disrespecting. I wonder where’s the balance, I wonder if someday I’ll be able to find a way to feel good without feeling like I’ve forgotten all about him. But I know what I would want if I had been the one dead that night.

“I would want him to be loved.”

I feel tears on my lacrimal and Jason’s hand wraps around my arm and gently squeezes me.

“I know that’s what he would want to.” He whispers.

“I haven’t been able to go to his grave once.” I whisper. “I think if I could… Talk to him… Maybe let him now, I love him and I always will but… I think I love someone else.”

I hear Jason taking a deep breath and only then I realize what I just said. I tilt my neck so I can see his face. I don’t know what I’m expecting neither do I know why I’m expecting him to judge me. But he just smiles.

“I already knew that. Your face lightens up when he’s around or when someone talks about him. I saw that on Marie’s house the other weekend.”

I take a deep breath and give up. He’s right.

“Don’t worry, it’s the same for him. He treated you like a queen and was always looking after you and I think you guys understand each other pretty well.”

“We understand each other? We fight like cat and dog.”

“The way I see it, you’ve had your misunderstandings but you’ve always figured it out. D’you think any other person would have stick around long enough for you to figure each other out? And I’m not talking just about him, I mean, he’s got some issues too.” He frowns.

I finally chuckle. He does have some issues but they don’t come close to all the other good things he has.

“You know, I’m happy you got him. It makes it easier for me to finally do what I’ve always wanted.” He smiles.

“What is that?”

“The States.”

My mouth shuts. My lips pursed and I want to cry.

“The States? You’re leaving too?”

First Ollie and now him. No, no, no, there’s no way Marie and I are going to overcome this. They can’t leave; he can’t leave. I need him. My pulse accelerates. I never thought I was going to be losing my best friends so fast. He smirks and nods his head.

“I need it, Indie. I didn’t go because of David and he… He treated me like shit throughout the entire relationship and I didn’t lose you guys because you are fucking angels from another planet but I think I just need to go away for some time, figure myself out, do what I want for a change.”

I take a deep breath. I really need to stop being so selfish. I don’t even know how long for he’s planning on leaving but the least thing I can do as a decent friend is to support him not matter what. I’ll miss him, sure, but I won’t lose him just because he goes to another continent. He’d have to change his name and go to a secret location for me to lose him.

“If that’s what you want and what you think you need, I’m all in.” I smile. “I’m gonna fucking miss you but I’m happy that you’re doing your thing. I hope you know, even when you were with David, you never changed the person you really are and I think that says a lot about you. What happened to you was not your fault, it was his, and it could have happened to anyone. God knows we both know how they find the way to get into your mind. but you’ve always been more than what happened to you.”

He frowns despite his smile and I can tell that’s his way to try and hold back the tears. He wipes the ones that scape out before he holds my hand.

“I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And you call me dramatic but look at what speech you gave for three months that I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving for three months?” I frown and he laughs. “Then why would you say it like that? I thought you were leaving for good.”

He laughs.

“And miss your wedding and your pregnancy with Harry’s babies? Never.”

“Hey, hop off the horse!” We both chuckle.

“Just be honest with him, Indie.” He tilts his neck. “You’ve got him here” he flexes his fingers to gesture a handful and taps a finger on it “and here” he taps a finger on his chest where his heart is and I smile. “Now, why don’t you get some sexy ass lingerie for him?” He wriggles his eyebrows. “The straight guy in me can help you decide.”

“You’re on.” I smile.

I try on about five of them. The girls are the judges but they all know I’ll end up choosing whatever I like. I never listen to advices when it comes about clothes. I know what I like and what I don’t and that’s that.

I do have a thing for underwear. It’s the only thing I actually enjoy buying so most of my underwear is cute and lace or silk or nice soft cotton but I do get excited at the idea of surprising Harry with something sexier than usual.

Maybe high stockings would do, I could wear a skirt and underneath it some high stockings hooked up to the waist of a lace bodysuit or something like that. I find a black lace one almost see through except from some parts strategically covered with the black flowery pattern, the cut between my legs and my nipples. The straps are silk and from the one around my waist, the two clasps for the stockings fall on my thighs. I love it.

After getting our underwear and going go with JJ to the male section of Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent, we finally sit down on a terrace surrounded by bags and have a drink. I order a Martini because I guess I’m feeling fancy after all and my friends order a sort of fancy cocktail each, except from Coco that goes with a beer. Her and Ollie are the ones who look fancier by far, Marie does too but in a way that lets you know she’s the good girl in the family, whereas Ollie looks like the one who’s always late to family meetings and Coco looks straight out of a magazine and yet there she is with a beer on her hand not caring about the contrast one bit.

In front of the terrace, there’s an Italian restaurant where there are two guys at the door, opening them for the clients. I have caught them staring at me more than once but every time I look the look away. I’m afraid I even have a boob out with all the staring but when I look down I realize I don’t. Jason’s sitting next to me and I wonder whether he’s noticed too or I’m just being paranoid. I look up at them and one of them look to the floor. Jason laughs.

“Geez, they could get a photo.” Jason says.

Alright, I’m not crazy.

“You’ve noticed too?”

“They haven’t taken their eyes off you since you sat down.” He chuckles. “And I’m sitting right here, I could be your boyfriend for all they know.”

Olivia tilts her neck and turns her head around being the blatant bitch she is before she gives me a smile.

“Well, they can keep trying, they’re trying to get in the place of an Armani underwear model.”

I roll my eyes and so does Marie. My eyes drift to her.

“You’re so exaggerated.”

“He could be one.” I defend him.

My friends and sister giggle and I blush but join in. It’s true, he could really be one and I miss him and want to see him.

Ollie’s call coincides with the moment Jason gets up from our table to go to the toilet and Marie gives my sister a smile.

“Coco, how are things with Guido? Are you happy?”

“Oh, I’m very happy.” She smiles. “I’ve never had this before, you know? Knowing my feelings are reciprocated. It just feels great.”

“Oh, I’m happy to hear that. You deserve someone like that.”

“So do you.” I tell Marie. “How’s everything with Adam?”

“He’s a dream.” Marie shakes her head. “I do worry that everything is too good.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s so gentle and loving and caring… I keep thinking when it is going to end.”

“Why would it end? I mean, obviously there’s always like the first few months where everything is just perfect and all that and after that there’s more comfort and less romanticism but… Don’t worry about that. It’ll come naturally.”

“See? But that’s what I don’t want! I don’t want him to walk in the bathroom while I’m peeing or for him to see me with my hair on a towel and a face mask on.”

Coco giggles.

“Well, maybe not now, but it’ll eventually happen if you guys stay together for long enough.”

She looks away from us and takes a deep breath before she speaks.

“The other day he told me to leave some things at his place.” She all but whispers as if it was some sort of secret. “Well, he got micellar water even though he didn’t know what that was because I told him once that I couldn’t stay over at his house because I didn’t have my micellar water to wash my face.”

“Aw.” Coco rests a hand on her chest and Marie’s lips pursed.

I giggle.

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing.” She shakes her head. “It’s just… Are we not moving too fast?”

“I mean he asked you to leave stuff at his house because you need stuff. It’s not like he asked you to move in. I stay over at Harry’s all the time.”

“Don’t you think I’ll freak him out when he realizes I’m a high maintenance girl?”

“I mean, Marie” Coco’s sweet tone makes my friend look at her “I think he might have an idea already?”

“I mean” I giggle “he’s been to your house.”

“Yeah, but my skincare is all carefully kept in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Well” I smile “I don’t think that’ll be a deal breaker.”

She sighs.

“Maybe some day you can let him in the bathroom while you do your skincare routine. I do not think he’s gonna be faced by that.”

Her brown, good-girl’s eyes investigate mine whilst she considers my idea. I can’t believe she actually think that would be a problem. Adam is crazy about him. I don’t think there’s anything she can say that would make him not want her.

Jason comes back before Ollie does but it doesn’t take her long to stand next to our table.

“Guys, this was a very lovely day” she starts “but I won’t lie to you. Mario just called me, he said he had a hard day at the hospital today and I want to cheer him up with incredible sex and cuddles so-”

“We did not need to know about the incredible sex.” Marie tells her but Ollie just smiles.

“And of course you can leave to be with your lover, Ollie, no need to explain anything to us.”

“Right.” She smiles. “Then see you, guys.”

With that she picks up her uncountable bags and leaves and Marie bites her bottom lip.

“I think I’m gonna leave too, guys. I have a skincare routine to share with someone special.” She smiles at Coco and me and we both laugh.

“What?” Jason chuckles looking at both Coco and me. “I’m kind of tired too, girls. Your shopping gave me a headache.”

“I’m pretty sure you bought more stuff than me.” I reprimand him but he just rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I love you all. See you.”

Coco and I walk together to her car and on the way there we both chat about how the group has changed in just a few months. It’s like we’ve grown up more in this year than we have in the last five. Jason went out of a terrible relationship and came out being stronger and more confident than ever and he’s going to the States for that internship he wanted; Ollie’s finally moved on from Jack and her inner crisis and seems to be done with being insecure and afraid of love; lovely Marie found her knight in shinning armour and is living the dream; and even Coco and me left the past behind and meet someone great.

I might miss the way things used to be because they’ve been like that for a long time but… I think they’re only getting better.

I dare to do it, if Marie’s going to show her skincare routine to Adam and Mario called Olivia because he had a hard day and needed comfort, I can tell him.

Indie: Miss you x

I rest my phone on my thigh and look out the window trying not to torture myself if he doesn’t answer straight away. He might be busy, he might be asleep even or he might be with his family.

Harry: Fuck, I miss you too

I grin like a kid on Christmas morning. Harry’s typing…

Harry: Are you done with your friends?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Can I see you?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Bien

I giggle like a teenager and Coco tilts her neck to give me an amused look. She’s not used to it.

“Do I drive you home or directly to Harry’s?”

“Do you have plans?”

“I wanna go home to shower but I’m going out with Guido afterwards.”

“Are you taking the car?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind dropping me at Harry’s then? So I can shower and stuff before too.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Awesome. Thank you.”

Harry: Did you have dinner?

Indie: Yes.

Indie: Are you at home?

Harry: Yes, I am. Are you coming?

Indie: Are you inviting me?

Harry: You’re always invited, love.

Indie: Then how about I visit you in an hour?

Harry: Can’t wait xxx

After the shower, I butter my body with my strawberry and vanilla body lotion and put on my new lingerie set before I put on some lip balm and mascara. I put on a terracotta colour soft woollen sweater and a high waist black denim mini skirt that covers my stocking so they look like normal tights.

I’m excited to see Harry but on the way to his apartment while Coco drives and tells me about some of Guido’s jokes that had her laughing last time they saw each other, the excitement turns into nervousness.

Will he think this is too much? Will he find it funny? Because I would be mortified if he does and after all, this is not a special occasion. It’s just a random Friday night. Oh, God, he might think I’m crazy.

As I stand on the lift to his apartment, my sister’s compliment on my outfit gives me some nerve. I mean it’s just Harry. If he finds it funny or thinks it’s too much, I can always play it cool and pretend it was a joke all along.

He’s waiting by the door with a big smile when the lift doors opened and I make my way towards him keeping both hands on my brown jacket. He takes it and places it on the couch before we make our way towards his living room.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He offers.

“Um, maybe a cup of tea?”

He smiles amused.

“I was thinking you were going to say something alcoholic because it’s a Friday after all but you always surprise me, Blue.”

I chuckle.

“How was your day?”

“Good.” He nods his head as he turns the kettle on and takes two cups from the cupboard. “I had lunch with my mum. She asked me about you.” He gives me a smile that melts me. “How was yours?”

“Good too. We had coffee and then went shopping until we were hungry so we had a dinner and then a drink.”

“Sounds like torture to me.”

I laugh at his comment.

“That is not true. I’ve seen your closet, you’re into fashion.”

He smiles dimply because he knows I’ve caught him. God, I have seen him smile countless times in the last five months but still it makes my heart skips a beat. I approach him when he’s giving me his back checking on the water in the kettle and when he turns his head for he noticed my presence, I’m inches away from him. He wraps his arms around me and understands what I want so he leans down and kisses me. I let my tongue tell him how much I missed him and he hums as it pushes between his lips and caresses his. His hands find my ass and I moan against his mouth but the kiss is sweet and tender and we only pull apart when the kettle whistles.

We sit down on the couch and have our cups of tea as he tells me more about his lunch with his mum and I tell him more about my day. He also tells me about his congress and about an interesting case he had this week and I realize then how easy it is to talk to him. I didn’t realize there were these many things I wanted to tell him until I had him in front of me.

He’s been very handsy too and I’m sure so have I even if I don’t notice, but his hands have never left my legs and I’ve been a little nervous that he might move them a little higher and realize what I’m wearing but so far, he’s just been respectfully caressing my knee or calves.

“How is Jason doing?” He asks.

I find it so sweet that he asks about my friends.

“He’s better. Yeah, I think he’s doing good. He’s going to the States though.” My hand finds its bicep as I try to catch his undivided attention even though I already have it.

“What do you mean he’s going to the States?”

“Well, it’s only for three months.” I turn the drama off a little. “It’s this internship he got while he was with David Dick, he said no because David wanted him to stay but apparently he’s gotten a second chance and he said yes this time.”

“Wow, that’s great. Your friends are as nerdy as you.” He giggles.

“I’m not going anywhere though.”

“Yeah, thank God.”

He grins and his hands find my hips before he pulls me closer until I’m straddling him. He captures my lips with his in a long peck. Still, somehow, he hasn’t seen my stockings. I peck his lips again.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I would be very happy for you if you were going abroad for an internship or something too. You know that, right?”

I nod my head.

“I would miss you a lot though.” I confess and he grins.

“I would miss you too.”

I kiss him again and he kisses me back in a long, loving kiss until I pull away.

“I haven’t asked you: what did you get today?”

I lick my lips and feel my cheeks heating up. I’m sure when women wear these things, they don’t feel so shy. Plus, I have no reasons to feel shy when all Harry’s done is worship my body. I don’t know why I’m even doubting myself. He’s going to love it.

“I can show you.” I whisper.

I can feel his heartbeat accelerating under my hand and smile. Every doubt I’ve ever had flees my mind as I grab a handful of my sweater over my belly and pull from it so as to get it out of the hem of my skirt. His green eyes drop to my hand and his hands adjust to my hips over him. He swallows.

When my sweater springs free from my skirt, I just pull it up so he can see my lingerie bodysuit over my belly and his fingers sink of my hips as his lips part.

“Fuck me.” He whispers.

My lips curl up into a grin as his eyes search mine.

“You perfectly know what you do to me.”

His hand squeezes my hip once and I almost moan but then he takes his hands off me and rests them on the couch next to his hips.

“Well, do you want to see it or not?” I whisper.

He nods his head but doesn’t say a word. His eyes challenge me.

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

His green eyes, playful and filled on lust, narrow and this time it’s my pulse that accelerates. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I rest my weight on him as I get up from his lap and find my phone still on my purse. I go on Spotify and play Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet and hand him the phone so he can hear the song better. His grin turns nervous.

I have never done this before and I have no idea of how to dance for an striptease but here goes nothing. I sway my hips slowly much like I do when I’m fucking him because I already know he likes it from the times we have danced together. His eyes are set on me but instead of feeling nervous, I feel sexy and hot and lucky that he’s looking at me like that.

I turn around and give him my back before I bend over sticking my ass in the air to get my shoes off. Barefoot, I turn around and unbutton and unzip my skirt pushing it down my legs and letting him see my mid-thigh stockings. The corners of his lips curl up and he silently mouths fuck me.

Funny, I’m thinking the same thing. I caress myself like I’d like him to do, starting with the sides of my thighs and my hips and then my belly and my flanks, pulling my sweater up. I cup my own breasts under the sweater and don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows. Still swaying slowly to the music, I grab the hem of my sweater and take it off dropping it on the floor.

I stand before him on my lingerie and feel fire burning inside me as his eyes roam my body up and down. He’s shifted his position on the couch but I can intuit the bulge between his legs.

“Do you want me to go on?” I whisper.

He shakes his head.

“Come here.”

I do as I’m told and his touch cuts my breathing halfway. His hand sticks to the exposed skin on my thigh and lustfully moves up to my hip where he squeezes.

“You must be fake.” He almost chuckles and I do.

“I’m real” I rest one knee on the couch next to his thigh and resting my hands on his shoulders, I straddle him “and yours.”

“Fuck.”

His fingertips press on the back of my neck and our mouths find each other with greed. The way he’s looked at me and the way he’s touched me and how hard I can now feel him against the inner side of my thigh drives me crazy and I push my tongue inside his mouth hungrily. My eagerness takes him by surprise but he’s just as eager as I am judging by the strength of his tongue against mine and the squeezes of his hands on my flesh. He pulls away but my mouth follows his blindly.

“Calm down, love” he chuckles against my lips “we’ve got all night. Let me enjoy you.”

I pout but instead of getting another kiss, he grins. I can’t say I’m disappointed with the outcome of my pouting. I love that he still looks like a child when he grins even when he’s acting so much like a man, full of lust and need.

“How did I do?”

Grinning, he takes my hand and lets me feel his hard on. It excites me to the point that my walls clench. He’s so hard and so hot… I want him inside me now. No, I don’t want him, I need him.

“I had never done that before.” I confess.

“Are you serious?”

I nod timidly and he sighs.

“You’re a natural then. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen and this thing…” His fingers caress my bodysuit “fucking hell, Blue, I’m gonna be dreaming about this.”

I laugh.

“Now you have to show me what I get for it.”

He grins and licks his lips as he tilts his neck.

“Well, when did the show end? You did ask me if I wanted you to go on.”

“And you said no.” I frown.

“Because I don’t want you to take this off just yet.” His tongue licks my lips like a cat. “But… If you want, I would love to watch you first.”

“Watch me?” I frown. “Doing what?”

He grins. He takes my hand in his and brings them both to my sex making me cup my dripping lips myself. I breathe in through my nose. He’s so close to me and he’s smiling in the way that turns my insides into jelly and I’m so wet and so needy… I need some relief now.

“I want you to touch yourself for me, baby.”

“You mean… Right here on top of you?”

He nods slowly but his fingers move over mine and make me caress myself. He does that a few more times before he removes his hand and lets me work alone. I keep doing what he was doing before and press circles on my clit as my eyes set on him. His hands hold my hips to give me more balance and I slip my fingers underneath the soaked fabric. His eyes move from the place I’m touching to my eyes and stop at my breasts.

“Fuck…” He whispers. “How does it feel, baby?”

I slip a single finger inside before I get another one.

“It feels better when you do it.” I confess.

He squeezes my hips and pecks my lips.

“I can show you how I do it.” His lips press on the exposed skin over my bra and I feel a current of electricity on my body. “D’you want me to?”

I keep touching myself with lips part, enjoying his kisses and his whispers. I love how his voice turns deeper and raspier when we’re having sex. It drives me crazy.

“Why do you want me to touch myself instead of you?” I whisper.

“Because having you pleasuring yourself on top of me… Fuck, baby… You don’t know how sexy you are.”

I bite on my bottom lip but his thumb pulls from it liberating it. I look into his eyes.

“If you do that, I’m gonna burst.” He smirks. “Do you not touch yourself?”

“Yes, I do.” I move my fingers slowly against my clit because I’d cum already if the rhythm was any faster. “I guess it’s just… I’m nervous.”

“Why? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” I gasp. “I do, I just… I want you.”

He grins and cups my breast on one hand making me moan.

“I’m right here, love. I just want you to cum like this first and then we can do whatever you want. Only if you want though.”

“I do want.” I stop him. “Just show me how you do it.”

He slips his own fingers the fabric of my bodysuit and guides mine.

“You have to start here” he covers the upper side to my clit, the part closer to my belly and presses slow circles “slowly, yeah, like that and don’t be nervous, baby. If you don’t cum on your own, I’ll help you.”

I half laugh half moan and he chuckles. I keep moving my fingers like he told me to do until I find a spot that sends electricity through my body. I start rubbing faster and the feeling is so good I almost don’t notice he removed his fingers.

“That’s right, baby, faster, faster.”

I feel the lower part of my belly tensing up and my nipples hardening and I moan as I relax my neck and throw my head back.

“Now stop.” Harry’s hand covers mine and stops my movement and I frown and give him a death glare that only makes him laugh. “And do it slowly again.”

I let him guide me and move my fingers against my clit watching him watch me. His eyes are fixed on my hand and my pussy and he’s biting his lip. God, this is so hot. I’m horny as hell.

One of his hands move from my hips to my inner thigh and he slips his fingers under the fabric again, slipping two fingers inside me and making me moan out loud.

“Fuck, I just wanted to see how wet you are.”

He moves his fingers slowly in and out of me and between that and my own stimulation on my clit I am afraid I might faint. I bite on my bottom lip again and he pulls from it with his thumb.

“What did I say?” He whispers as his fingers keep moving in and out of me so I bit my lip again so as not to scream. “You’re not really as good of a student as I thought.” He chuckles.

He gets his fingers out of me and I whimper making him chuckle again.

“You do it, baby.”

I curl two fingers inside of me and move them with the rhythm he was using and one of Harry’s hands squeeze my hip. I shut my eyes and gasp.

“Imagine it’s me, love.”

“Oh, God.”

When I open my eyes, I see he’s stroking himself over his jeans and my eyes drop to his bulge.

“You don’t know how much you’re turning me on, baby.”

No, he has no idea how much this is turning me on. I thought this was something only done in porn but this is fucking hot. Having him right here as I pleasure myself, hearing his voice thick with lust and knowing how much watching me is turning him on drives me crazy.

“You’re always so good with me.” He captures my earlobe between his teeth and pulls from it and I moan.

“Touch yourself, H.”

“D’you want me to?” His voice comes out strangled then and I feel the power he gives me burning my skin.

“Yes, like I’m doing.”

I hear his zipper going down and feel him lifting his hips from the couch to take his pants off. My eyes set on his hard length, already leaking precum, shinning and tight, and his fingers wrap around himself.

I try to take this time to focus on what he does to himself so I know how to touch him better next time so I slow the rhythm of my fingers for otherwise I’d finish already. Harry’s mouth attacks the side of my neck so I can no longer see him because my neck tilts back without my consent to grant him better access and he keeps kissing my skin.

“I’m not going to last long watching you, baby.” He whispers.

“Oh, God, I’m very close already, Harry… I fucking… This is so exciting.” I moan.

“Fuck me, keep talking.”

“Oh, Harry… I want you to cum so I can cum too but…” I can tell his pumping accelerates and so do my fingers. “It’s such a shame you’re not on my mouth like last time… You taste so good.”

A guttural sound cuts his breathing halfway and I feel a hot liquid spurt on my thigh. That sends me into overdrive and I moan until my throat stings. Harry’s hands hold my hips as I sigh and try to catch my breath and then I smile at him.

“Stop that or I won’t be able to stop fucking you.”

I laugh softly.

“Then don’t stop.”

He smiles mischievously at me and I know he was hoping to hear that.

“I can’t decide whether I want this off or not.”

He says staring down at my bodysuit and I laugh.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just smiles before he leans in to capture my lips with his. We kiss intimately for a while and then his hands pull my hips down and he penetrates me slowly. He swallows my moans as he keeps kissing me lustfully but slowly, almost calmly.

His hands hold my ass and he lifts me and sinks me back down so he’s fully controlling the rhythm, a very slow, torturous one that lets me feel every inch of him as he stretches me on his way inside. I feel him so deep too, I don’t think he’s every filled me like this but I love it and I let him known, with moans and bites on his bottom lip.

“You like it slow, baby?”

I hum and nod my head and we kiss each other as if we were the only people in the world. Right now, he is to me.

“Spread your hips wider apart.” He whispers.

I do as I’m told and replace my knees further away from him. His hands hold me in place as he slowly pushes back in and I feel him paving his way through my channel inch by inch until our pubic bones touch and we both gasp.

“Oh, God.”

And we repeat again. He pulls out almost entirely and then sinks in again. He kisses me passionately and I press my body against his as if we could get closer. He captures my bottom lip with his teeth and pulls from it like I normally do with his and when my lip sets free from his prison, we both smile at each other. He fills me again and, in this kiss,, it’s me who pulls from his bottom lip. I have never felt more filled of him and of feelings for him, lust and love bubble and mix together inside my belly and burst in every kiss.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re amazing.”

I hear him giggling.

“Don’t laugh.”

He slaps my ass cheek and I jump a little.

“I’ll laugh if I want to.” He grins.

I smile too.

“You’re right. Don’t stop laughing. I love it when you do” I gasp as he fills me again, he rolls out “And I love your smile, you’re so handsome when you smile” when he fills me again, I tangle my fingers on his hair and pull from it “and your hair, I love your hair and your eyes, when you look at me…”

He shuts me up with a passionate kiss and I hope he understands how I feel about him through this intimate encounter.

“Blue…”

I wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything even though his hips don’t stop moving against mine.

“What?” I press him.

“Nothing.”

I would have insisted but his hips attack mine hard and it cuts my breath halfway. I cling onto his shoulders and he keeps thrusting inside me hard and fast. I pull from his hair and listen to our skins clapping together and the wet sounds of our intimate encounter. His hand cups and squeezes my breast and I arch my back and tense up as I cum again.

His thrusts become faster and sloppier until he cums himself and before I have time to react, he’s standing up and carrying me on his hips to his bed. He lies me on my back and smiles as he stares at me.

He spreads my legs opened and gets on his knees between them and his hands hold my ankle and place it on his shoulder before he unclasps my stockings and put them down my leg. He does the exact same thing with my other leg and caresses my entire body before he takes off my bodysuit.

He then hovers me and pecks my lips a few times before he pecks my nose and my cheeks and then my neck and my collarbones and he leaves kisses in every inch of my skin. I almost giggle when he kisses the spots that tickle and I feel a different type of excitement on my belly at his attention for these kisses aren’t even lustful, even though we’re both now naked. I feel adored and I feel cared for and wanted and I feel my heart about to explode with love for him.

He kisses my legs and from the inner side of my thighs he moves back to my belly, kissing my skin there again before he smiles at me.

“What do you want from me, Harry?”

“Everything.” He smiles as his face reaches the level of mine and he pecks my lips again. “I want everything from you.”

My breath catches on my throat. I want him, no, more, I love him. I love him. I swallow and play with his hair as I stare into his eyes.

“Careful what you wish for” I whisper “If you play with fire, you’ll end up burned.”

“I’m already burned.” He smirks. “And here I am.”

I smile but the smiles turns into an o as he thrusts inside me again. God, this man is insatiable, but I can’t get enough either. He fucks me slowly again and he keeps biting my lips and squeezing my flesh as we both gasp and moan.

I sink my nails on his back as he licks and sucks on my nipples and I moan his name once and again whilst his hips keep drilling me to his bed. I wish we could stay like this forever. When the delicious torture on my breasts is done, he grants me again with the heavenly image of his face and that’s all I can see as he rests his forehead against mine and keeps on moving in and out of me. I feel his breath on my face and swallow his grunts and moans.

I am not sure he feels the same way I do. I don’t know if he loves me but I don’t think I could feel any of this if he didn’t. I don’t think he would make love to me like this if he didn’t love me. I think he wouldn’t touch me like he does, I think he wouldn’t squeeze my flesh so gently if he didn’t. I think his kisses wouldn’t feel like this if he didn’t love me too.

“You feel so good, baby.”

I feel my pulse on my skin and I feel the knot on my belly about to untie and with another push of his, I lose track of space and time and my head sinks of the pillow. I can’t even breathe for some seconds until I moan out loud and feel my throat raspy and becoming inflamed. He lets go too, groaning in my ear and shivering on my arms.

It takes him a few seconds to roll out of me, but he stays laying on top of me and I hug him to my chest as we both fight to catch our breaths. I don’t know what any of this was but he filled me in every level and I still feel my heart pumping proudly at the newly found sentiment.

Harry’s breathing pattern changes and becomes calm and deep. Carefully, I pull back just enough to look into his eyes but they’re close and his expression is peaceful. I kiss his forehead.

“You’re falling asleep on me.” I whisper.

“No…” He frowns but his eyes are still closed.

I smile and try my best to pull from the duvet so I can cover us both but I’m not strong enough.

“I just need help to cover us up.”

“I’ll warm you up.” He mumbles.

“You’ll freeze too, come on.”

With one hand he lifts my back from the bed and with the other he pulls from the duvet and rolls us both under the duvet before he hugs me again. This time he rests his back against the mattress and pulls me to him so I’m the one resting my head on his chest. I trace senseless figures with my fingertips on his bare chest.

“Blue”

“Yes?”

“Give me a goodnight kiss.”

I chuckle before I lift my head and peck his lips. His eyes are still closed but he frowns.

“Kiss me well.” He complains.

I press my lips against his again, not quite knowing what he wants, and lick my way inside his mouth, getting a lazy response from his tongue. When I think I did well, I pull apart and peck his lips as closure but he opens his eyes and the intense green in them paralyzes me.

“I want one of your kisses.”

Still impressed by his gaze, I press my lips against his again and I put all the affection I have for him on the kiss until my belly erupts in a fist of butterflies and my chest feels funny and warm. We kiss one another with love, it can only be love, and when I feel like my pulse has reached my brain, I pull away and Harry skims my nose with his.

I rest my cheek against his chest before he opens his eyes and realizes I’m blushing and I hear his heartbeat against my temple. His breathing slows down just like the movement of his fingertips on the low of my back and he sighs.

“Blue…”

I hum.

“I love you.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles and reader #harry styles news #harry styles

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saphyhowl · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter one: Encounter

Here it is. I know it’s not very long but I will continue tomorrow for part two. The fic I asked your thoughts about. Hope you like it. Again sorry for the long wait.

Edit: I added part two

“And on your right, you may admire the work of Jacques-Louis David, “the Coronation of Napoleon” painted in 1807. It took the artist two years to finish the painting. It is not only imposing because of its size but also by the…”

A young woman in a formal suit guided a group of visitors through the gallery in the Denon part of the Louvre museum. While the visitors admired the painting, the guide waved discreetly at a young man standing on the sidelines. He looked visibly bored but managed a timid smile as the woman waved at him. He strode towards her, his boredom noticeable even in the way he walked.

“I’ll be done in a few hours, why don’t you grab something to eat or maybe take a stroll outside. I know museums are not the funniest thing to see for a 19-year-old,” the woman said with a chuckle.

“No worries sis, I’ll grab something to eat at the “Paul” bakery. Text me when you’re done?” the young man answered.

The sister nodded and went on to describe the other paintings to her group. She glanced one last time at her brother’s figure among the visitors. The young man put his headphones on as he strode towards the exit. He scrolled through his phone to find the playlist that would suit his mood and nearly bumped into an elegant-looking man.

“Sorry,” he mouthed at the elegant man and continued walking.

A moment later he sat on a bench munching on a sandwich. Someone sat next to him but he paid them no mind. A tap on his arm. He looked up. It was the elegant man from before.

“Well, we meet again,” said the elegant man.

The brother smiled politely and took another bite from his sandwich.

“You can call me Comte,” the gentleman added as he stretched out his hand.

“Louis,” answered the young man as he stared at Comte’s outstretched hand, visibly refusing to shake it.

“What is your favorite painting in the Louvre museum?” Comte asked.

“None. I don’t like museums,” Louis answered as he immediately took another bite from his sandwich. Hopefully, that way the weird man would stop talking to him.

“I thought so. A pity. Paintings are a heritage, they have many stories to tell us,” Comte commented.

“I am sure they do sir,” Louis said as he looked away in annoyance.

“Le Sacre de Napoleon is a masterpiece. However, you must visit the Musée d’Orsay as well. The paintings there are filled with life,”

“I will,” Louis said with a loud sigh.

“Make sure to go with a knowledgeable guide, otherwise you might miss a few gems,” Comte added.

Louis nodded and continued to munch on his sandwich.

“Well, then Louis. I bid you farewell. Take in my beautiful city of Paris, she has yet to offer you plenty of treasures,” Comte nodded his head and walked away.

“What a freak,” Louis mumbled to himself.

He was about to reach for his soda bottle as he noticed a leather wallet next to him. Louis cursed under his breath as he knew what he was about to do.

A few hours later.

“Are you sure he never left the Denon area?” a young woman asked the security guard as he replayed the security footage.

“No Mademoiselle Sophie,” the security guard answered.

Sophie saw the footage for the fifth time. There was her brother passing through the gates leading to the Denon area at 1:32 pm. She held her head in her hand.

“This cannot be happening,” she whispered.

“It’s been past closing time Mademoiselle. Have you tried his cellphone again?” the security guard inquired.

She nodded and took out her phone. She tapped on her brother’s contact and held her phone to her ear.

“Come on. Come on. Answer idiot…”

She heard the familiar beeping that announced her call had gone straight to voicemail.

“Maybe he went already home Sophie?” suggested someone behind her. It was Alicia, one of Sophie’s colleagues.

“Maybe you are right Alicia. I will go check and if not then I will go straight to the police. He knows nothing about Paris and it’s getting late,” Sophie decided as she went to grab her bag and coat.

Sophie watched the city lights pass by the window as she sat in the subway. The closer she got to her stop the more nervously her knees jumped up and down. She practically ran towards her tiny apartment. She dropped her keys a few times because her hands trembled with anticipation. She opened the door and shouted her brother’s name. She shouted again as she entered her apartment. The apartment was dark and was exactly as she had left it before heading to work this morning. She shouted her brother’s name again storming into each room. No one.

Sophie crouched down and called her brother’s phone one more time. Voicemail. She looked at her phone and selected another contact. The sharp light from her phone hurt her eyes or maybe the tears she held back started to sting her eyes.

“Hello?” a voice came out of the speaker.

“Mom? I-I lost Louis,” Sophie managed to say before bursting into tears.

A few hours later, Sophie sat in front of a police officer, telling the middle-aged officer what had occurred. Sophie tried her best to recall any detail that could be decisive for the investigation. Another officer handed her a paper cup with what seemed to be coffee. She gave them a faint smile. The middle-aged officer spoke with Sophie it took her a moment to understand their explanations. All of this seemed surreal. The busy police station even at night, the neon lights. The office was busy with people doing paperwork. Sophie was sitting there filing a missing person report for her younger brother just like in any trailer movie. However, the heavy truth was nowhere comparable to what any series could transmit. She had lost her brother for whom she had always looked out for. Sophie felt as if part of herself went missing for good that day as well.

The police officer gave her a business card with a number on it.

“If you need to talk, we have a few people here who are specialized in helping families cope with the situation,” the officer explained.

Sophie took the business card and thanked the police officer.

“We will be at the Louvre tomorrow to investigate possible leads. We will let you know if we find something,” the other officer added.

Sophie managed to blurt out a few words of gratitude and exited the station. She caught sight of a familiar man leaning against a car.

“Antoine,” Sophie whispered and smiled.

The man named Antoine held out his hands to take hers. She rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“This is a nightmare,” she said as series of sobs took over.

Antoine held her in his arms until she had calmed down a little.

“It is not your fault. He will show up again, ok? Let’s go back to your place and get some rest,” Antoine suggested as he opened the door of his car.

The next day, at the police station.

“Our colleagues have scanned every profile of the visitors and staff on that day and none of them match with the man we see here,” explained the policewoman to his lieutenant as she circled the zoomed face of an elegant-looking man.

The lieutenant gazed at the different screenshots from the security footage showing the missing Louis with an unidentified man.

“How could anyone pass the heavy security of the Museum?” the lieutenant wondered.

“We found something else,” the policewoman showed him another screenshot.

The lieutenant looked closer and recognized Louis. The young man was following the suspect through a door.

“Where does that door lead?”

The policewoman turned pale.

“Now now Marie, it cannot be that bad,” the lieutenant encouraged the policewoman.

“Nothing,” she answered.

“What do you mean exactly with nothing?” the lieutenant asked.

“A storage room for flyers and whatnot. There are no windows, no shafts, nothing that could lead them out, except the same door they went through,” Marie explained.

The lieutenant sat back in his chair. He had seen a lot of cases in his lengthy career. However, this one was fairly new and slightly worrying.

“I’ll make a call. This, dear Marie, is bigger than I anticipated,” the lieutenant added before getting up to make a call. This case was out of his hands.

#Trouverlouis

Paris was on fire. At least the social network was. The social media of every Parisian was showing and sharing one hashtag, a plea for help from a desperate sister. Sophie was in the kitchen, her phone on the table could not stop buzzing ever since she had followed her friends' advice. She had placed her faith in the algorithms of Instagram and every other network that might help to obtain hints on her brother’s whereabouts. However, after a month, the shares and posts resulted in lots of public empathy but few leads.

Sophie sat on a chair and stared at a picture hanging on her fridge door. The unidentified man who took away her brother Louis. She remembered the day she went to the police station with her mother this time. After they had told them another unit had taken over the case because of the lack of leads, her mother had thrown a tantrum. She insulted every policeman with every imaginable name. However, all the commotion dulled out as she saw the portrait one police officer had handed to her, explaining that she was allowed to use it to see if anyone in her circle could identify him. Ironically, no one recognized him.

Sophie looked at the portrait, eyes filled with pure hate. The pure-hearted, art and history passionate Sophie had made a vow to personally strangle the life out of this man. She grabbed her purse and went to the Louvre as she did every day for work. However, this time she went to stand for the umpteenth time in front of the door through which her brother never came back.

The door looked insignificant as usual, noted Sophie. She was alone in the area, it was yet too early for the storm of visitors to invade the halls of the Louvre Museum. Sophie sighed. The police had explained that it was a mere storage room of two square feet. She had looked at it many times during the past weeks. She lazily put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door, she knew what to expect.

Sophie let out a scream. The stack of cardboard from yesterday was gone, the pile of flyers and maps as well. The storage room looked more like an old corridor from the Louvre with a velvet rug, old paintings on each side of the walls.

“Mademoiselle Sophie,” a voice whispered. It came from the far end of the corridor.

Sophie fumbled with her purse and took out her phone to take a picture.

“Mademoiselle Sophie,” the voice repeated.

Sophie searched through her phone and was about to leave a voice message to her boyfriend Antoine.

“Sophie” another voice whispered.

Sophie shuddered; she knew that voice very well. It belonged to Louis.

“Antoine, I think I found a lead. I’ll send you a picture,” Sophie whispered on her phone, her voice a mix of fear and joy.

She released her finger from the recording button. She was about to tap onto the picture she had just taken to send it to Antoine. Something or someone pushed her into the corridor causing her to drop her phone. The door slammed behind her and Sophie was drawn towards the other end.

“No no no no. Let me out! Let me go! Please let me go! Alicia! Anyone! Get me out of here, please!”

On the other side of the storage door, Sophie’s phone rested on the floor. The screen shifted as a call entered, the name “ANTOINE” appeared on the screen. The phone buzzed in the still empty museum.

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #ikevamp fics #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp sebastian #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire le comte #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire dazai #ikemen vampire jean

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mrsseverussnape · 3 years ago

Text

Love Is You - chapter 10

David Bowie concert in the last week was the best day Scarlett had in a while. Severus has offered her to have dinner in London before the concert and she has gladly accepted it. Before they left Hogwarts, Carina has insisted to take a photo of them because they have worn matching outfits without talking to each other and in Carina’s opinion they looked so cool. Her mother was wearing a long black tule skirt with a black jacket combined with a leather beret and long leather boots, her red hair was curled and her makeup was just a simple red lipstick and black smoky eyes. Professor Snape was wearing black trousers and a black turtleneck with a long leather jacket and he has put his hair in a messy bun. Carina has never seen him like that before but she was quite impressed by it. Then Severus and Scarlett apparated to London and their first destination was an Italian restaurant they used to go a lot. After having their dinner, they arrived at the concert hall. Severus has bought front row tickets and Scarlett couldn’t be happier. The moment David Bowie came up to stage, Severus realized Scarlett still didn’t have any self-control for Bowie but he was happy since Scarlett was having time of her life and actually losing herself in the moment and thinking nothing else but the music. After the concert they had a walk around the area and Scarlett insisted to treat Severus with a dessert as a thank you gift when she saw an open patisserie after the midnight. Severus had no choice but to accept it because Scarlett couldn’t take her eyes off the glass where they were showing the desserts. It was such a fun and needed night for both of them in the end of the day.

This week would be Scarlett’s moving week; she was ready to move into her old house after living with Carina at Hogwarts for over a month by now. Carina wasn't willing to let her go yet but Scarlett needed her own place and privacy since she always loved to be alone, also she didn’t want to be a burden for Carina anymore. Furthermore she wasn't feeling much depressed anymore so she was trusting herself about not doing stupid things like over drinking or trying to kill herself...

Scarlett has left their family house to Sirius even though she loved it so much but the last memories she had there erased all the good memories that the house held over the years. So she was moving the house that her parents bought her as a graduation present when she was 18. It was a Victorian style small duplex house with light blue and white exterior. The house had a small front garden where she has planted nothing else but roses. Scarlett has lived here with Severus for a year and with Sirius for 2 years until they got married. The house was already furnished, and she wasn't planning to change it at all except the bedroom. Also she has gotten her personal stuff from the family house and needed to place them too.

Leo and Scarlett have gone to shopping for bedroom in weekdays and today; Saturday, Carina joined them too to decorate the house. Scarlett was decorating the bedroom all over again while Carina was taking care of the kitchen and Leo was emptying the boxes which Scarlett brought from the family house in the living room. Then he found a rather big, fancy trunk; It was emerald green and there was a snake wrapped around a rose design carved on the centre of the lid. Leo has never seen it in his life before but since his mum brought it here it must have been important to her. He couldn't help but wonder what was in it so he tried to open but it was locked as he has suspected.

"Carina, come here for a sec." he called out for his twin.

"Yes?" She walked into the living room and she saw the trunk in front of Leo. "What's that?" She questioned curiously, it was such a pretty looking thing.

"I was hoping you would know..."

She sat down the floor next to him and examined the trunk. "That carving looks familiar to me but i dunno from where..."

"Alohomora." Leo whispered suddenly but the spell didn't work on the emerald trunk. "Well, now i am even more curious..."

"Leo! Maybe she has very personal things in it. We can simply ask her and not try to open it secretly."

"We've never seen it and it's locked with a strong charm apparently. Do you really think that mum will "simply" say what's inside the trunk?"

"Then maybe we shouldn't unlock it! What she could possibly put inside it, anyways?"

"That's the point. Don't you wonder what's mum hiding!?"

"Maybe i do, a little..."

"Do you have any idea about where the key is?"

Carina thought for a while. "You know she keeps the bank vaults’ keys and some other important ones in the same keychain. Maybe it is also there?"

"I think the keychain is still in her bag because we went to Gringotts yesterday. So the plan is you will go upstairs to distract mum from coming down here and i will try the keys on the lock. She has left the bag in the doorway."

"Okay fine but if you can manage to unlock it, call me for help or something and i will come to see. But don’t be suspicious."

"Okay, let the mission begin!"

Carina made her way to the upstairs when Leo went to the doorway to check the bag. It wasn't hard to find the keys in the bag. There were 5 keys in the keychain; 2 of them were for the bank, 1 was for her own vault which she keeps in the house that Leo knew. So there was 2 other keys left. Leo tried to first one but it didn't even fit the lock. The last one was smaller than the previous one, he still kept his hopes high and tried the last possible key. And then he heard the click when he put it inside the lock. He carefully turned it and the trunk unlocked itself. Leo snickered to himself and opened it slowly. There were many kinds of things in the trunk but the big purple photo album with velvet cover caught his eyes the most. He took it out carefully, he was trying not to move anything in the trunk that she could notice later, then before took a look inside the album he called his twin as he promised. Carina came down running excitedly after couple of seconds.

"Mum is not coming anytime soon, she is so lost with the clothes right now." She whispered and sat next to him.

"There are so many things in it! It is like a memory box but bigger version. Probably the presents dad got her when they were dating or such because there are some jewellery boxes." Then he showed the photo album he took out. "Are you ready to take a look inside?"

She was looking unsure and having second thoughts. "I don't feel very comfortable about doing this behind her back to be honest..."

"Oh c'mon Carina, we made it this far and i saw how excited you were while coming here! Some mischievousness won't hurt anyone, be daddy's girl for once!"

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Fine fine, open it!"

"NO WAY!"

"Is this...?"

"YES! MERLIN’S BEARD!"

"Be quiet Leo!" Carina slapped his arm.

They looked through the photos in silence and shock for a while until Carina broke it.

"I have told you that there is something between them, i felt it from the very first moment I saw them in the same room!"

"You did but i wasn't expecting THAT. Some big love is happening here! Professor Snape and mum… I would never imagine this pair in my wildest dreams, bloody hell!"

"I wonder why she never mentioned it before, we talked about relationships countless of times and she was like dad was the first and the last. Mum literally acted like she doesn't know Professor Snape for years!"

"Maybe the breakup wasn't smooth. But I remember whenever you talked about Professor Snape which you did frequently; dad was always annoyed and mum was avoiding talking. I bet there is some drama here. " Leo put the photo album back in the trunk. "I am locking it, this shock is enough for today and apparently it is very personal..."

She nodded. "I will learn their story soon."

"How will you do that exactly?"

"Leave the job to the professional and don't worry about the rest." A mischievous smirk appeared on Carina’s lips.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

#severus snape #pro snape #snape #sirius black #fanfiction #fanfic #severus snape x oc #sirius black x oc #severus snape/oc #sirius black/oc #severus snape fluff #mrs.severussnape #moodboard by mrsseverussnape #mrsseverussnapefanfic #fluff fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #oc #original charater #original characters

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bellakitse · 4 years ago

Text

Master post - 30 days of Tarlos

30 Tarlos One-shots - Master Post

{thanks to @insidious-intent for the gif. ❤}

Complete Series on AO3

Day 1 - I’ll be here for you - 1.5K

“I can’t believe you came here instead of going home,” TK whispers when the kiss ends, his green eyes shining bright with affection and a little amusement. “You really didn’t have to.”

When TK can't sleep, Carlos comes to be with him at the firehouse.

Day 2 - Sunshine Smile Today - 1.3K

Marjan lets out a giggle that she tries to cover with her hand, it’s high-pitched and adorable and makes TK grin. He turns his head to look back at the boys still in the middle of their challenge; his smile grows when he catches Carlos’ eyes, grinning at him as he pulls himself up again.

“He’s gorgeous,” Marjan continues, agreeing with him. “But what’s really great about him is how happy he makes you. It’s such a difference.”

Marjan notices how happy TK is compared to before.

Day 3 - The Last of the Romantics - 1.5K

Michelle has a history of setting Carlos up with the worse guys possible, she swears this time it's different.

* “Tell me about him,” he says resigned, knowing he’s been played by the way Michelle instantly perks up.

“He’s one of the new members at the 126,” she starts with a grin. “And Carlos, he’s so pretty.”

Day 4 - A Witness to their Love - 1.7K

Owen doesn’t call attention to himself for a moment as TK and Carlos get lost in each other. His heart squeezes tight as he watches. His son looks happier than he can remember in the longest time.

Owen is a witness to his son falling in love.

Day 5 - lost in every inch of you - 2.3K

“What, baby?” Carlos questions when he stops. “What do you need?”

“You?” he says in a question, licking his lips.

TK comes home after a long shift, needing to touch his boyfriend.

Day 6 - A Change in Title - 1.2K

“You just called me your boyfriend,” he says as he starts to smile.

TK’s eyes widen, his words seem just now to be catching up with him, and there is the start of a pretty blush on his face. “Uh ��“

While out with Carlos, TK hides from someone he rescued, it starts a conversation and ends in a change of status between them.

Day 7 - of chicken flautas and intimidating mothers - 1.8K

“I know we saw each other just last night, but I already missed you.”

Carlos' heart flutters at TK’s words and touch, but he can’t forget the tiny force to be reckoned with, not forty feet away. “That’s really sweet, and I feel exactly the same way,” he continues. “But my mom is here, and she’s watching us – no, don’t look around!”

It’s the annual first responders’ cookout and Carlos is about to introduce his boyfriend to his mother.

Day 8 - Let's Start with Breakfast - 2.1K

“Hi, you must be TK,” he says, turning around to face him fully, and TK doesn’t know where to look – that beautiful face with a head full of curls he wants to sink his hands into, or the perfectly chiseled chest that reminds TK of studying about Michelangelo’s David in his art studies course. “I’m Carlos.”

TK wakes up in his friend's apartment and meets his new roommate, Carlos.

Day 9 - Midnight Talk about Boys - 1.8K

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

When Marjan can't sleep, she finds TK in the common area talking lovingly to someone on the phone.

Day 10 - Let's Go to the Mall - 2.4K

While at the mall, TK finds a little girl crying because she can't find her mother and uncle. Imagine TK's surprise when her uncle turns out to be his boyfriend.

Day 11 - The Forever Tamales - 4.0K

“Marriage Tamales?” he asks, confused, his heart ticking upward as the sisters nod and smirk at him and Carlos.

They start to explain the significance of the special dish. Every word they utter makes his heart race as he tries to come to terms with the fact that Carlos made him a dish so important to his family.

* A companion piece to 'The Marriage Tamales' from TK's POV

Day 12 - Stumbling a Step - 2.2K

The drive to work is quiet, out of the corner of his eye he sees Carlos grip the steering wheel a little harder as the car comes to a stop in front of the firehouse.

“I have a long shift today,” he says, his tone stiff. “I won’t be home until after midnight.”

TK looks over at his boyfriend; it’s the first thing Carlos has said since their shout out the night before.

A fight with Carlos leaves TK in a foul mood. Judd sets him straight.

Day 13 - chicken soup and mashed potatoes - 1.4K

Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache as his alarm goes off. The tickle in his throat he had the night before now feels like knives; it hurts to swallow.

When Carlos is sick, TK is there to take care of him.

Day 14 - Cuervo Confessions - 1.2K

“What’s so pretty about TK, Carlos?” she asks, her blue eyes twinkling when Carlos lights up at the question.

Drunk Carlos is adorably in love with his boyfriend and has no filter.

Day 15 - Pancakes and Coffee Syrup - 2.1K

Opening the bathroom door again, he stops, freezing like a deer caught in the headlights when he finds his boyfriend’s father standing just outside the bathroom. From the way he’s dressed, it’s obvious he’s just come home from the overnight TK told him he was on.

“Good morning, Carlos,” he greets him calmly. Like this is a regular occurrence for them to run into each other outside his bathroom, and instead, not the first time ever that Carlos has spent the night in his house.

Carlos spends the night at the Strand household, Owen makes him breakfast in the morning.

Day 16 - We begin on a Tuesday - 1.8K - Part 1 of Days that Matter series

When the 126 have a spot to fill in their crew, Judd recommends his buddy Carlos Reyes from the 121.

Firefighter Carlos AU!

Day 17 - on Wednesday we fell - 2.1K - Part 2 of Days that Matter series

Carlos has been part of the 126 for three months now, every day TK falls for him a little more. After a nightmare, TK can't hold back his feelings anymore.

Day 18 - I was born Thursday's Child - 2.5K - Part 3 of Days that Matter series

“It’s Carlos, sir,” Judd gets out quickly, and TK feels an ice-cold fear run up his spine at the urgency he hears in his friend’s voice. “He was a step behind me, the floor caved, and he went through into the basement.”

Carlos gets hurt on a call.

Day 19 - Friday, I'm in Love - 1.1K - Part 4 of Days that Matter series

Eight months after Carlos' accident, TK and he are more in love than ever. They also have some news for their family.

Day 20 - Meddle, meddle, meddle - 1.8K

Carlos is having a few drinks with his sisters when the conversation turns to his love life. When they dare him to pick up someone at the bar, Carlos knows exactly who to go for.

* “Fine,” he says, already standing up, he points at the man at the bar. “I’ll play your game, not only am I getting his number, I’m not coming back to the table, I’m going home with him.”

Day 21 - That Green Colored Thing - 1.8K

TK Strand is not jealous.

Just because Carlos has been across the bar for the last fifteen minutes, talking to some handsome idiot who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space and is so close to Carlos, they might as well be glued together doesn’t mean he’s jealous.

Day 22 - Midnight Solace - 1.3K

When not being able to sleep triggers a panic attack, Carlos is there to help TK through it.

Day 23 - We were meant for one another, come a little closer - 3.0K

TK stares at him, mouth open, and Carlos can’t help but stare back as his heart pounds loudly in his ears. He feels naked, like every feeling he’s been hiding from TK for so long is now on the surface for him to see.

Carlos and TK are best friends and roommates. When TK comes home from a failed date, it reveals long-time hidden feelings.

Day 24 - Worth it - 1.0K

They get called to a standoff situation in a laboratory building downtown. TK is in the middle of helping create a perimeter with Paul when he hears a familiar voice over the radio and realizes with a sense of dread that it’s not just Austin Police that is inside, but it’s also his boyfriend of five months, Carlos.

When Carlos is in a dangerous situation TK can't hold back.

Day 25 - Sealed with a Kiss - 2.3K

Carlos is in the middle of finishing the last of his daily reports when the first text comes in, followed quickly by a second.

‘What time are you coming home, baby?’

‘I miss you.’

'I’m waiting in bed…for you.’

TK is a menace, Carlos loves him anyway.

Day 26 - Super Papa - 1.5K

Luca looks at him with wide eyes. “Papa a hero?” he asks, probably remembering what the reporter had called his father.

“Papa is a big hero,” he answers his boy.

TK watches Carlos on the news with their son.

Day 27 - Stating Intentions - 1.5K

“TK, if you don’t stop fidgeting, I am going to tie you to the flag pole and leave you there.”

TK worries in the kitchen of the firehouse while Carlos and his dad talk in his office, it distracts Paul from his cooking with his fidgeting.

Day 28 - One for the Pro column - 1.7K

While at the gym, TK runs into Carlos, the officer he danced with two weeks ago and hasn't been able to stop thinking about since.

Day 29 - Future Tamales - 1.9K

TK visits Carlos' mom to ask her a very important question and to ask for a special recipe.

The final part to 'The Marriage Tamales'

Day 30 - TK’s perfect and simple morning - 1.3K

TK Strand-Reyes wakes up to his bed slightly shaking, and soft little boy giggles followed by an amused ‘shhh’ from his husband.

Luca and Carlos make TK breakfast after he had an accident at work.

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #30 days of tarlos #fic masterpost #my writing #fic rec

133 notes · View notes

wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

The Eternal and Unseen (3 of 4)

SO yeah. The chapter count has grown. There’s a lot going on here. David has a backstory. Emma and Killian have a mission. IT’S A LOT and it needs more words.

CW: This chapter contains minor (and canon compliant) character death and a potentially distressing scene involving the accidental death of a child. It’s not graphic but it is emotional so be prepared.

As ever, thanks to @ohmightydevviepuu for plotting with me and @thisonesatellite and @katie-dub for general amazingness and @optomisticgirl and @spartanguard for the prompts and the always-enthusiastic responses 😘

And @carpedzem for another absolutely stunning drawing. SEE BELOW.

SUMMARY: Misthaven University is an ancient place, and as all ancient places do it guards some secrets. Secrets such as Emma Swan and Killian Jones, a fae princess and her royal guardian, whose true identities are well concealed behind the guise of average college students—if not quite well enough to foil the plot their enemies have hatched against them. Now their friends will have to come together, putting their own differences aside to battle an enemy that threatens them all—fae and vampire and werewolf together… plus one very baffled human named David.

For @cssns

AO3 | tumblr part one | tumblr part two

(I MEAN. WHAT. SO PERFECT.)

PART THREE:

They returned to Andersen just as twilight was creeping across the sky and the moon rising into it, heavy and dark gold as it crested the forest trees. Emma watched it through the window of her room, where she and Killian and David had retreated to rest a bit and collect themselves before deciding on their next move. The others had also gone to their rooms rest and prepare, and now David sat on Emma’s bed with his hands clasped in his lap and his shoulders tight as Killian made Emma a cup of tea and she frowned at the moon.

David watched in silence as Killian approached Emma and offered her a steaming cup. She accepted it with a smile and a cheek turned up to meet the kiss he dropped on it, in a gesture so comfortable and natural it gave David’s heart a little twinge. He wondered how he could ever have thought they weren’t right for each other when the depth and intensity of their love was so very, very obvious.

But then he was becoming aware that there were in fact a great many obvious things in this world that he hadn’t been able to see. It was not a comfortable thought.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “I get that you’ve both got a lot of thinking to do right now. But could you—is there time for you just to explain a few things first? Like exactly what the hell is going on? I feel like everyone knows what’s happening here but me.”

“That shouldn’t be a new feeling for you,” remarked Killian with a smirk. David sighed.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair. I’m not sure how I missed so much of what was happening around me, but I see it now and I’d like to understand it.”

Emma and Killian exchanged a glance.

“What exactly have you seen?” Emma asked.

“Visions?” David said uncertainly. “Of the past? Killian made me drink something purple and then I started seeing things.”

“Something purple?” Emma frowned.

“Yeah. He put some grey powder and a crushed up leaf into a beaker full of something Victor gave him, and it turned purple. And started to smoke,” said David.

“You gave him purple willow bark?” Emma turned to Killian in alarm.

“Aye,” Killian replied. “Along with the sap from one of Jane’s leaves.”

“Oh.” Emma relaxed. “Well, that was the right choice of leaf at least.”

“I do listen when you talk about the plants, love.”

“Hmmm,” said Emma. “And how did you feel afterwards?” she asked David.

“I—kind of passed out.”

Emma nodded. “I’m not surprised. Purple willow packs a punch. Normally we blend a few herbs into the emulsifier to soften its effects, but there’s no way Killian could have known the correct ones. He did the best he could in the circumstances.” She gave Killian a smile that tried hard to be sardonic. “This time, though, I’ll give you the gentler version.”

David started. “This time?”

“Well, yeah,” said Emma. “It’s the easiest way to give you the information you need. We could explain, I suppose, but it’s really best if you see it for yourself. Especially if you want to know your own history.”

“My… own history?”

Emma nodded, her expression sorrowful and soft with sympathy. “Yeah. You’ve seen the history of the fae and the Guardians, now you need to understand where you fit into that.”

“Killian—” David cleared his throat. “Killian said I’m a—a Guardian? Like he is?”

“Yeah you are. But as you’ve probably guessed there’s more to it than that. Are you ready to See?”

David swallowed hard. Part of him still wanted to say no, to deny all of this and run, back to yesterday when things had made sense. But a bigger part of him knew he needed to know, and to understand why all these crazy things that were happening to him seemed less and less crazy the more he thought about them. The more he thought.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”

It’s less abrupt this time, smoother, as though he’s drifting in a boat on a misty sea. The mist clears and the sea recedes and he is standing at the edge of a wood, with fields at his back and before him trees that reach up to the sky, tall and straight as in the forest of the fae council, only now they frame not an ancient round stone but a house. It’s a nice house if rather a small one, humble but homey, made of wood and fronted by a well-kept garden with a creek running through it. Something about the house tickles at David’s memory—though no, not his memory exactly, more a feeling… the sense that he has been here before.

He blinks and finds himself inside the house, in a cramped bedroom where a woman lies back against rumpled pillows, exhausted, cradling a tiny newborn baby in her arms. Slowly she traces the curve of the baby’s cheek with the tip of her finger, her eyes alight with wonder.

“James,” she whispers. “Your name is James.”

“And who is this one?” asks a voice. David turns to see another woman, plain and sturdy and with kind eyes, holding up another tiny bundle. This second bundle she places gently in the crook of the woman’s other arm.

“David,” says the woman on the bed. “This one is David.”

David gasps and his eyes fly to the woman, but before he can get a good look at her the scene is shifting and he sees the babies—himself and his brother—his brother—now toddlers, running through the woods behind the house. He knows, somehow, which is himself and which is James—though their faces are identical, James’s wears an expression of recklessness and mischief as he runs as fast as his young legs can take him to the edge of the creek that comes out from the woods to cut across the corner of their garden. Young David follows, his tiny face crumpling as he calls out to his brother, and David now can feel the terror of his younger self as he sees James slip on the slick rocks that border the creek, hears his brother’s cry, abruptly silenced as his head hits the stones… David sees his own young legs move as fast as they can—faster than they should—but still far too slowly. He hears a heartrending scream, feels the flurry of movement as his mother runs from the garden—she turned her back for the briefest moment—and David looks away. His toddler self is bawling and he cannot watch it, cannot listen to his mother’s broken sobs… this, he thinks, this must be why she never told him that he had a twin. Her cries are unearthly as she cradles James’s tiny form, and they echo in David’s aching chest as he squeezes his eyes shut and wills the scene to change.

It does, and when he looks again he’s back inside the house where it is clear that time has passed—though it cannot be much; David’s younger self is older now but by a few months or so, no more. He is in the bedroom again, where a man with a very familiar square chin and blond hair arms himself for battle, while David’s mother sits on the bed and pleads for him to stay.

“You know that I can’t, Ruth,” the man says, “The call has come, and my duty—”

“Oh, your duty!” Ruth cries. “You’re not even the chosen Guardian!”

“But I am a guardian,” he insists. “I must go to battle when called. And David—”

“David is a child!”

“A child with a bounden duty, the same as my own. You knew this when you married me.”

“I know. I know I did but I can’t bear it now,” sobs Ruth. “I can’t, Robert. Not so soon after James.”

Robert takes her face gently in his hands and kisses her. “I will return,” he says softly. “I promise, my love.”

But David knows, even without being shown by the vision, that he never did.

The scene shifts again. Very little time has passed, David can tell, but the change in his mother is heartbreaking. She is wan, gaunt, lying listlessly on the sofa with no expression in her eyes, and David can feel the worry of his toddler self as he makes a show of playing quietly on the floor, but with far more attention on his mother than his toys. She is weakened by despair and fragile from her losses, and young though he is, David is afraid for her.

There is a knock at the door but his mother makes move to answer or even acknowledge it. It’s David who toddles over and cries “Come in!”

The door opens to admit a woman, pale and blonde and green-eyed. Her face resembles Emma’s though considerably older, and she lacks the determined chin, the stubborn glint in the eye that Emma has.

His mother’s eyes flit briefly to the woman then away, and she makes no move to rise. “Princess Angharad,” she says flatly.

“Ruth,” replies the woman, coming to stand next to the sofa. Her stern expression softens in sympathy and, David thinks, a hint of pity. “I’m so very sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” sneers Ruth. “You lost a fine warrior, after all.”

David gapes—never in his life has he heard his mother speak so rudely. Angharad’s expression does not change.

“Your sacrifice has been great—” she begins, but Ruth interrupts her.

“Yes it has,” she says sharply. “And it won’t be any greater. I’m taking David and I am leaving this place.”

Angharad’s eyebrows rise then snap together in a frown. “Leaving!” she exclaims.

“Yes.”

“But—you know that David has been chosen as the Guardian for my granddaughter, Emma.”

“Yes I do.”

“His selection was a great honour.”

“Yes it was. And I refuse it. You can’t have him.”

“Ruth—”

“No!” There’s fire in Ruth’s eyes now, sparking dangerously as she sits up straight to glare at the princess. “You’ve taken my husband. I’ve lost my son. David is all I have left, you will not take him from me too!”

“But the Guardian—”

“Choose another.”

Angharad steps backwards and nearly stumbles into the armchair next to the sofa. She twists her hands together in her lap. “It is your right, as you know, to make this refusal on behalf of your minor child,” she says. “But I would urge you, strongly urge you to reconsider.”

“I won’t.” Ruth’s jaw is set. “My mind is made up.”

The princess’s own jaw is tight, her eyes troubled. “There is another who might do,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “Closer in age to Emma than we generally prefer and with certain… troubling portents, but if you are truly adamant…” She darts a glance at Ruth.

“I am,” Ruth confirms. Angharad nods. She looks up again and this time holds Ruth’s gaze.

“And what is your intention, when you leave us?” she asks. “Where will you go?”

“Into the human world. I’m going to raise my son among his own kind, humans who have no obligation to the fae or any knowledge of darkness or covenants. He’ll grow up as far away from magic as I can get him.”

Angharad’s face is sorrowful now. “I cannot agree with this decision, as much as I sympathise with why you have taken it. This recent battle has brought great losses to many of our human allies. For that I am boundlessly sorry.”

“I don’t accept your apology,” says Ruth stiffly. “Although I do acknowledge it.”

“That is fair.” Angharad nods. She straightens her shoulders and looks at Ruth again. “Before I go and with your permission, I would bestow on you one final gift.”

Ruth’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “What sort of gift?”

Angharad looks at young David, still playing on the floor and listening, older David is certain, to every word. “The human world is not like ours but there is still magic there, and David with his heritage and the distinction that should have been his will find himself drawn to it,” she explains. “I can—close his mind, as it were, to the perception of that magic, make it far more difficult for him to see and easier to rationalise if he does see it.”

“You want to mess with my son’s head,” says Ruth flatly.

“In a manner of speaking,” Angharad concedes. “It’s not normally something I would do especially to a child so young, but understand me well, Ruth—underestimating the pull of his heritage, of two hundred generations of Guardians, would be a grave mistake. Even with this spell upon him he may still find himself drawn by magic. You cannot keep him from it by your will alone.”

“Fine,” Ruth spits. “Do what you like.”

Angharad approaches young David with a kind smile and kneels beside him.

“What’s that you’re playing with?” she asks.

“Lego!” he exclaims. “It’s a castle!”

“And a very fine one too,” Angharad murmurs, with such sadness in her eyes David’s heart aches. She brushes the hair from his forehead then lets her hand rest there as she murmurs a few words. David feels his younger mind blur and shift and resettle. The toddler’s eyes go hazy and he blinks them slowly, and when the princess removes her hand he returns to his toys, blithely building his castle as though she were not even there.

Angharad rises to her feet. “I shall take the sword now,” she says briskly.

Ruth gets up from the sofa and disappears through the bedroom door. When she returns she is carrying a long sword—the same sword David last saw belted around his father’s waist. The one that is now in his own possession.

“What will you do with it?” Ruth asks, thrusting the sword at Angharad.

“Keep it safe,” she replies. “It rightfully belongs to your son, and to his descendants. One day perhaps one of them might wish to claim it.”

“I hope not,” says Ruth. “With every fibre of my being I hope it.”

“That is your right, and your prerogative,” replies Angharad. “As it is mine to hope that despite everything that has come to pass, one day David may take it up again, and find his way back to us.”

Emma sat in her armchair with her legs curled beneath her and a cup of tea steaming gently in her hand, watching the images flickering in her scrying mirror. David was lying in her bed, his eyes moving frantically beneath closed lids and his limbs twitching as he re-lived his history. Killian and Harriet both sat at his beside, ready to react should anything go wrong. Emma cast a glance at them, smiling fondly at the sight of one of Harriet’s fronds curled gently around Killian’s neck, stroking the nape of it as Emma herself liked to do. Killian gave a little hum at the tickling caress but did not look up from the book that lay open in his lap.

Emma turned her attention back to the mirror. The images it revealed confirmed her suspicions, but something about the whole business still troubled her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She frowned as she went back over some of the images, playing them again, willing herself to see what she was missing.

Harriet unfurled one of her vines—not the one standing ready to protect David or the one fondling Killian (Harriet was an excellent multi-tasker) and with the closest thing to a long-suffering sigh a plant can muster tapped the tip of a leaf against one of the posters Emma had blu-tacked to the wall. The one that outlined the lunar cycles of the year 2020. Another leaf gestured emphatically at the window, where the golden moon was still rising in the sky.

“Of course,” breathed Emma. “That’s it.”

Killian looked up from his book. “That’s what, love?”

“I’ve just figured out what’s been bothering me about this whole thing,” Emma exclaimed. Harriet huffed and folded her vine as a person might fold their arms across their chest. “Okay, okay,” laughed Emma, “it was Harriet who figured it out.”

“Naturally.” Killian gave Harriet a little scratch behind her leaf.

“But it all makes sense now,” Emma continued. “Things I couldn’t find a good explanation for, like why those women would kidnap me and why my instincts would tell me they were deadly dangerous when every other sign indicates that they’re really, really not.” She set her teacup down on her desk and leapt to her feet, dropping an absent kiss on Killian’s cheek as she headed for the door. “You stay here until David wakes up, okay? It should only be a few more minutes. I need to go talk to Belle.”

Angharad’s final words echo in his ears as the scene shifts around her, and though her face appears unchanged David senses she is now some years older. This seems confirmed by the young woman seated in front of her, a blonde and green-eyed fae that is, finally, Emma.

She’s so young, David thinks, with a small twinge beneath his heart, though this cannot be more than a few years in the past. Emma’s face is rounder and her hair less styled, though he can see the seeds of the woman he knows in the stubborn set to her girlish jaw and the wilful spark in her eyes. She’s dressed in a long split skirt and a fitted leather jerkin in her trademark red, which even with his limited knowledge from these visions David recognises as a traditional fae style, updated for the modern world, and he is not surprised that this is something young Emma might choose to wear. She sits on a wide, cushioned seat in a large room where the walls appear to be formed of tightly twisted tree branches with tall windows and a wooden door set into them. David reflects for a moment how a mere twenty-four hours ago such decor would have astonished him, then returns his attention to Angharad and to Emma.

“Now that you are about to come of age,” the elder fae is saying, “it’s high time you met your Guardian.”

“Ugh. Do I have to?”

Emma manages not to whine but David can tell it’s a near thing. She crosses her arms over her chest and it’s plain to see her lower lip wants badly to pout.

“Don’t you want to?” Angharad looks shocked.

“No, actually,” Emma retorts. “I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“He is not a man, he’s your Guardian,” her grandmother scolds, “and his job is not to ‘take care of you.’ It is to protect you.”

“I don’t need that either!”

Angharad’s expression says plainly that she is holding tight to her patience. “Emma, the most recent battles are within your lifetime—”

“Barely,” Emma mutters.

“—and despite your gifts for scrying you cannot predict with certainty when there might be another. After the loss of both your parents and so many of our kind we simply cannot afford to be without our Guardians should we find ourselves again under attack. Without their aid fae kind would have been lost thousands of years ago, and indeed as the covenants say—”

“All right, all right,” groans Emma. “For the love of the goddess, don’t start quoting the covenants. I’ll accept this Guardian and do what is required of me. But you canNOT make me need him!”

“I will pray that you never do,” says Angharad, now with a twinkle of humour behind her stern expression.

A knock sounds at the door, and she goes to open it. A young man enters the room, mid-twenties at David’s estimate and moving with a distinct stiffness in his right leg. “Ah, good day to you, Captain Jones,” Angharad greets him warmly. “Do come in. But where is your brother?”

“Outside looking at your horses,” says the man with a sigh. He continues to speak but David doesn’t hear his words—he has noticed Emma slip quietly from the room and he follows her. She creeps down a narrow hallway and through a door at the back of the dwelling. Once outside she darts through a sparse scattering of trees, heading for a long, low building that David gathers to be the stables. Just as she approaches the broad stable door it flies open and a boy strides through it, colliding with Emma and barely managing to catch her before she can fall.

“Oh!” she cries and the boy grunts, blinking startled blue eyes as he gazes down at her. Her own eyes widen and for a moment they stand frozen, his arms around her waist and her hands on his chest, staring at each other in helpless fascination—until the boy blinks rapidly and clears his throat as he steps back.

Killian—because of course it’s he—scratches nervously behind his ear.

“Um,” he says, “er... ah…”

“Eloquent,” teases Emma, who has by all appearance regained her composure—though David notes the bright flush in her cheeks and the breathiness of her voice. “You must be Killian Jones.”

“Aye,” he replies, collecting his wits and giving her a hesitant smile. “And you are of course the princess Emma.”

“I am.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, lass.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” retorts Emma. Killian looks first startled, then affronted, then captivated, all within a few blinks of an eye. A delighted grin spreads across his face, with just a hint of the smirk he will perfect in years to come.

Emma herself blinks at that grin, and the flush on her cheeks deepens. “You should know from the start that I don’t need a Guardian,” she declares, attempting to cover her discomfiture with a haughty glare. “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh yes,” says Killian. His gaze travels slowly down her form and back up again. “I don’t doubt that you can.”

“Oh.” Emma scowls at his easy acquiescence and also, David imagines, at the way he’s looking at her—as though she’s the most brilliant thing he’s ever seen. She shifts uncomfortably as Killian moves closer.

“But however capable you may be, Your Highness,” he says, his voice dropping lower and his expression hardening, “and regardless of whether or not you want one, you’ve got a Guardian. Me.” He leans in closer still and David can hear Emma’s breath catch. “And I intend to take my duties very, very seriously.”

“But I don’t need you!” Emma snaps. There’s frustration in her tone and temper in her eyes, though she doesn’t, David notices, back away.

“And I don’t care.”

They are so close now their noses are nearly touching and the air crackles with the tension between them. David is all too familiar with these battles of wills of theirs, having witnessed many firsthand in the dorm, but this one, the first one, is the most intense of all. He holds his own breath as he watches them take the measure of each other, notes the rapid rise and fall of their chests and the way their eyes are locked, how Killian’s hand curls around Emma’s hip and hers slides up his chest without either of them noticing. He begins to feel as though he should look away—this moment is too intimate for him to witness—but then Angharad’s voice cries “Emma!” from the direction of the house and she and Killian wrench themselves apart.

They stare at each other for a moment as they attempt to catch their breaths, then Emma gives her hair a toss.

“Well,” she huffs, “have it your way, I guess. You can follow me around if you like, I can’t stop you, but you’re going to look pretty stupid when you show up to save me and find I’ve already saved myself.”

Killian laughs, loud and bright. “I’m prepared to take that chance, princess,” he says.

The scene shimmers and resolves into two figures walking through the woods. One is Killian and the other his brother, the man whom Angharad addressed earlier as Captain Jones. His limp is more pronounced now, a halting gait caused by the stiff way he holds his right leg and his clear reluctance to put weight on it, as though the knee cannot be fully trusted. The two of them emerge from the trees and out onto a narrow road where a car is parked. David notes the way Killian moderates his own pace to match his brother’s, unconsciously, walking slowly despite the buzz of nervous energy that is rolling off him in waves.

They approach the car and Killian removes a set of keys from his pocket to unlock it, then gets behind the wheel while his brother with effort eases himself into the passenger seat. There’s a scowl on Killian’s face and his movements are jerky as he puts the car in gear; his brother has been lecturing him and he is clearly displeased. David hasn’t been listening to their words but he concentrates on them now, just in time to hear Killian snap “Bloody hell, Liam—”

“Language!”

“—I only met her today! We spoke for less than five minutes! Don’t you think it’s a bit premature to be warning me away from her!”

“I wish it were,” Liam mutters. “Sometimes five minutes is all it takes.”

Killian grips the steering wheel hard with one hand and jams the key into the ignition with the other. “What the devil are you on about?” he grumbles, though the look on his face makes David suspect that he knows full well what Liam is ‘on about’, and that it worries him too.

Liam sighs. “Look, just—just be careful, little brother.”

“When am I not careful, and it’s younger brother, if you don’t mind.”

“Killian.” Liam’s face is intensely solemn, with genuine fear behind his eyes. “You can’t fall in love with her.”

Killian shoots his brother a glare as he twists the key and the car’s engine roars to life. “I know that,” he snaps, “and I don’t intend to.”

David nearly laughs. If that’s what has Liam so concerned, his warning’s come far too late. Killian is halfway in love already, and his feelings are a tide that cannot be turned.

“Well.” Liam shifts uncomfortably in his seat and folds his arms across his chest. “See that you don’t, then.”

Killian twists the wheel and he car peels away. David doesn’t follow it. He can feel the potion thinning in his veins, the visions receding along with the car’s taillights, leaving him standing in the fading forest wondering what on earth could make the prospect of Killian and Emma falling in love strike such fear into a man like Liam Jones.

David came awake slowly, drifting back to consciousness in that boat on the misty sea. When he opened his eyes he found himself lying on Emma’s bed wrapped in some sort of blanket, warm and quite comfortable and with Killian beside him in a chair, a book open in his lap. He shut the book when he sensed David’s gaze on him, set it aside and offered a smile.

“How are you feeling, mate?” he asked.

“Good,” said David, then paused to clear the croak from his voice. “Hell of a lot better than I did after the potion you gave me.”

“Aye, I don’t doubt it.” Killian chuckled. “ I’m pretty much the furthest thing imaginable from an expert on magic. It was all I could do to remember the basic elements of the potion Angharad gave me when I accepted my Guardian duties.”

“So you—saw what I did? The visions?”

“I saw what you did the first time,” said Killian. “The fae histories and the origin of the Guardians. That knowledge is given to all of us. These latest visions, though, were for you alone.”

David moved to sit up only to discover that he couldn’t. What he had taken for a blanket turned out, upon closer examination, to be an enormous, glossy green leaf wrapped tightly around him.

“What the—” he sputtered.

“Oh, that’s Harriet,” said Killian, blithely, as though leaves the size of blankets were a thing one found oneself wrapped in as a matter of course. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly. Most of the time.”

Another leaf appeared in front of David’s face, this one far smaller and with tiny green fronds curling at its base. He could swear it was waving at him.

“Say hello,” Killian encouraged.

“Um, hello, uh, Harriet,” said David. The leaf gave a nod. “Um, what’s it—er, she doing here?”

“Keeping you safe.”

“Oh. Er. Sure. Thanks?”

The leaf nodded graciously, then curled around his face and patted him on the head.

“You see?” said Killian. “She’s a sweetheart. Just don’t get on her bad side.”

“Um. Why?”

Killian grinned. “Show him, Harriet.”

The leaf released David’s head and reappeared in front of his face. As he watched, it gave a sudden flex and thorns appeared across its surface, close-set and a good inch long, sharp as daggers. David gulped. “Oh.”

“Aye. But don’t worry, she likes you. She generally likes the people Emma likes.”

“Well that’s, um, good.”

“That it is.” Killian gave Harriet a pat. “Let him up, now, love.”

Harriet unfurled her leaf and slid it out from under him. David sat up, groaning and flexing his aching muscles. “Is it normal to feel this sore?” he asked.

“Oh yes. The visions take quite a lot out of you. But here, Emma left you this.” He held out a cup of a dark and steaming liquid. David accepted it warily, and gave it a sniff. It smelled earthy and sweet, like nothing he’d encountered before, and when he chanced a tentative sip it was delicious.

“What is this?” he asked, taking a larger drink.

“Infusion of the lesser burdock root,” said Killian.

“Oh, well that doesn’t sound too—”

“Fermented in wild boar dung.”

David choked and spat out his mouthful of liquid, wheezing and coughing as Killian laughed and clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, it’s thoroughly washed before they infuse it,” he said.

“Yea, that’s not really all that comforting.”

“Drink it up anyway, mate, it’ll soothe the muscle aches and calm your nerves. Just don’t think too hard about it.”

David squeezed his eyes shut and gulped down the brew as quickly as he could. Within moments his muscles relaxed and his heart rate slowed. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, then opened his eyes.

“Better?” inquired Killian.

“Yeah.” He paused, then added “Physically at least.”

Killian nodded, and sat back in his chair. “You have questions,” he observed.

“One or two.”

“Anything you care to ask, I’ll do my best to answer.”

David rubbed a hand over his face. There was so much to process in what he’d seen, so much about himself that he had never known. He wondered what Killian knew, wondered how the younger man had managed to identify him as a fellow Guardian. How could he possibly have known? Unless… “How much did you see of… of what I saw today?” he asked.

“I saw none of it, not in visions. I told you, that’s your history and yours alone. But I knew the basic details, about your brother and your father, and the reason your mother took you away from the tribe.”

“Angharad told you.”

“Aye.”

“Because you weren’t supposed to be Emma’s Guardian.”

Killian shook his head. “No. I wasn’t. Originally it was meant to be my brother Liam.”

David considered Captain Liam Jones, and his stiff gait. “But he was too badly injured,” he murmured.

“Yes. In the battle that killed your father.”

David looked up sharply. “But he must have been just a child!”

“He was ten.” Killian swallowed hard, and when he spoke again his voice was strained. “Too young to fight, but not to young to come under attack. Raiders invaded our house, in search of my father. When Liam told them he had fled, they attacked the both of us. I was barely a year old. Liam shielded me, he wouldn’t let me go no matter what they did to him. Even when they smashed his kneecap beyond repair.”

David recalled the tiny boy who shared his face, racing towards the creek. It seemed he and Killian had more in common then he’d known. “Why were they after you?” he asked gruffly. “And who’s they?”

“We don’t know,” said Killian wryly. “They didn’t exactly stick around to effect introductions. We only know that they were humans, enemies of the fae, trying to eliminate a Guardian and his sons.”

“Your father’s a Guardian?”

“He was,” Killian spat. “Before he ran away and abandoned us. I don’t know if he’s even alive anymore. I don’t care.” He did care though, David thought. The pain of his father’s betrayal remained sharp, even after so many years. But he said nothing, and Killian continued. “At any rate, Liam was left unable to guard the princess, and so the mantle was passed to you.”

“And when my mother took me away—”

“It came to me, aye. As the very last of last resorts.” He attempted a laugh. “But it must be said that Angharad was never entirely comfortable with me as Emma’s Guardian. She’s highly gifted with Sight and I think she must have known that there was”—he flushed a bright pink and David bit back a smirk—“the potential for deeper feelings between us. But she had, very literally, no other choice.”

“Are deeper feelings not allowed? Is that why your brother warned you not to fall in love with Emma?”

“Ah.” Killian scratched behind his ear. “You saw that, did you? Did you also see—”

“Your and Emma’s first meeting?” David did smirk this time. “Yeah.”

Killian’s flush deepened. “Aye, she, uh, mentioned she might show that to you.”

“I’m glad she did, actually,” said David. “It was sweet, really, seeing you nearly swallow your own tongue after one look at her.”

“I didn’t—” Killian began, then caught David’s sardonic expression. “Well, okay, maybe I did,” he conceded. “That’s not the reason she showed you, though.”

“It’s because you weren’t supposed to get involved with each other,” said David, just a bit smugly. “And she wanted me to understand why in spite of that, you did. Isn’t that it?”

“You know, I like you better now that you’re not so bloody dense,” Killian retorted, “but it’s also kind of annoying, you actually seeing the things right in front of your face.”

“Just answer the question, Jones.”

“Yes,” said Killian shortly. “You’re right. For a Guardian and his charge to fall in love is expressly forbidden. I could be executed for it.”

“Executed!”

Killian shrugged. “It’s happened before.”

“And yet you don’t seem very worried.”

Killian leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped. “Those histories you saw, the war against the Black Fairy and the Guardian alliances,” he said, “they happened over four thousand years ago.”

“Four thousand!”

“Indeed. So as you might imagine, a lot has changed since then. The fae population has steadily dwindled while the human one has surged. Magic is no longer widely used or even known, and much of fae history has been wiped from official records. Up to and including the original name of this very building.”

H.C. Andersen, David thinks. Teller of fairy tales. Because what better way to lessen the fear of something than to turn it into a children’s story?

“Meanwhile,” continued Killian, “the Guardians also have been whittled away to almost nothing. My brother out of commission and our father gone. Your father and brother both killed and you taken away. And that’s just in these past twenty years. Of the twelve fae tribes four have retreated entirely from human contact and refuse to have Guardians, and the eight who remain have only twenty-one active Guardians among them. A century ago there were hundreds of us. A millennium ago, thousands.”

David considered this. “But doesn’t that just make it even more reckless for you and Emma to give in to—um—”

“Our lustful desires?” Killian mocked.

“Well, er—”

“Aye, you might well imagine it would,” Killian replied, dropping the mockery with a sigh. “Except that there’s no one left to pass judgement on us. A ruling of execution would have to be proposed and carried by the Fae Council, which hasn’t been convened for centuries. I’m not sure anyone would even know how to convene it if they wanted to. The covenants that we follow are thousands of years old, made in and for a different time. They no longer suit the needs of anyone, fae or human, but of course only the Fae Council has the power to amend them.”

“Of course,” murmured David, though he found it rather comforting that fae bureaucracy was apparently as useless as the human version.

“Something has to change,” said Killian, “but no one knows exactly what or how or who is going to change it. So Emma and I decided that we would. Who better than the protector of the tywyll stone and her Guardian to make the decisions that need making? No one has more authority than we do, and we intend to use it. That’s why we’re not afraid anymore to make our relationship known. We’ll face whatever consequences may come and we’ll fight for each other. We’re prepared to do whatever is necessary to build a world where we can be together and be happy.”

He spoke so calmly and with such assurance, David thought, like there was no doubt in his mind of his feelings or of Emma’s. David thought of Snow—her face as always bright and beautiful and at the forefront of his mind—and a twisty tangle of yearning tightened in his chest.

“Well, I’m on your side,” he said. “For whatever that’s worth.”

Killian smiled. “It’s worth quite a lot, mate. For us personally but also because you’re a Guardian. That’s a heritage that can’t be erased; even though you didn’t grow up with it, it’s still yours. Your sword recognised you. You recognised Emma. And Snow, who, by the way, is also a fae princess. You know, just in case you were interested.” His eyes twinkled with mischief as David shot him a sharp look.

“Does—” David cleared his throat. “Does she have a Guardian?”

“She does. Chap by the name of Lance. Big fellow, many muscles.”

“I see. But he’s not, er, here?”

“He’s nearby,” said Killian. “Ready to respond in an instant if he’s called. Guardians don’t actually have to live so close to their charges as Emma and I do, but—well—”

“You wanted to be near each other.”

“Aye.”

David had so many more questions, dozens of them clamouring for his attention, but before he could ask any the door swung open and Emma appeared.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she said. “Everything all right?”

“Uh, yeah,” David replied. “I think so.”

“Good, because I think I know what’s going on here. Everyone’s meeting in the common room in five.”

Despite the chill of the night the common room was warm, lit by a bright and crackling fire. David sat on the wide sofa across from the hearth, with Ruby next to him and Graham on her other side. August lounged in the armchair in the corner and Killian in the one next to the fireplace, while Victor leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Emma stood in front of the fire with Belle hovering at her side, just visible in the orange light of the flames. Snow wasn’t there—she had volunteered to stay back in the forest to guard the women in their tree-branch prison. David wished she hadn’t—there were things he desperately wanted to tell her, though he knew that, as she would say, now was not the time.

Emma was silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “So as you all now know, I’m the one who has the tywyll stone,” she said finally, and everyone nodded. “It’s been in my family since the beginning, and it was my ancestor Arianrhod who locked the Black Fairy’s magic into the stone in the first place. All my life I’ve been raised knowing that I would be the stone’s protector and I never once questioned that. It was my heritage, and it was decreed by the covenants. I never questioned any of it, until recently.” She cast a glance at Killian, who gave her a smile and an encouraging nod. “I also didn’t question the instinct that told me to leave the stone behind when those women took me,” she continued. “The instinct that told me that I couldn’t allow the stone to fall into their hands. It wasn’t until I got back home this afternoon that it occurred to me to wonder why. Why would my instincts react so dramatically when those women were so easy to defeat? It troubled me, and the most troubling thing was that I couldn’t figure out why it was troubling. But now I know. It’s their timing.”

“Timing?” said Ruby. “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” Emma replied, “here’s the deal, everything I was Shown in the scrying mirror. There are three of them, a mother and two daughters. The mother, Cora, she’s human. She’s got no magic and her knowledge of it seems limited to what’s contained in the standard scrolls—the versions of the histories that are available in any human library. She wouldn’t have access to any of the actual fae histories, and if she raised her daughters among humans it’s unlikely they would either.”

“Sorry,” said David. “But what do you mean by the actual fae histories?”

“The fae store our history in trees,” explained Emma. “Like the purple willow whose bark gave you your visions. The scrolls tell the broad story, but they hold none of the details you get from seeing the events unfold yourself.”

“So—all of you have seen these visions?”

“We’ve all seen a version of them,” said Graham. “The ones involving our own ancestors. But the location of the tywyll stone needed to remain secret, so for obvious reasons we weren’t shown the part involving the trapping of the magic.”

“But then why was I shown that?”

“Guardians are all shown what you saw,” Killian replied. “We are all descended from Cynbel, the warrior who captured the Black Fairy’s wand.”

“What, all of us?”

“All of us. Cousin.” Killian smirked at him. “Cynbel’s tale is the origin of all Guardians, and so we have the right to see it.”

“So all Guardians know who has the ti—er, the stone?”

“Yes, and part of our vows include protecting the secret of its location with our lives.”

“Everything was always about keeping the stone a secret,” said Emma. “So that even if someone did figure out a way to release the Black Fairy’s magic, they wouldn’t know where to look for it.”

“But somehow this Cora and her daughters figured out where to look for it,” said Ruby.

“So it seems. But the thing is they don’t actually know what they’re looking for. They don’t even seem to know that the magic is stored in a stone. They only know it’s stored somewhere, and that I have it.”

“So then they can’t possibly know how to release it,” Ruby cried.

“Or how to control it even if they did,” Graham pointed out.

“That’s what it looks like,” agreed Emma.

“But then why?” Ruby held up her hands in frustration. “Why would she move against you when she’s so unprepared?”

“That’s exactly what was troubling me,” said Emma. “It didn’t seem to make any sense. She’s so completely unable to do what she plans and yet she’s so confident. Why? And why did my instincts tell me to do whatever I had to in order to keep the stone out of her hands?”

“Well?” Ruby prodded. “Why?”

Just then there came the sound of footsteps in the corridor. The door swung open and Snow appeared, rushing into the room followed by a young woman with long, dark hair and bloody scratches covering a face that wore a look of deep apprehension.

Emma stiffened and threw up her hands, magic sparking and crackling at her fingertips. “What is she doing here?” she snapped.

“She’s—” began Snow, but Killian was already on his feet.

“Who is she?” he demanded.

“One of the women from the forest,” said Emma, and before the words were even fully out of her mouth, the room whirled in a blur of motion. August leapt from his chair as his eyes flared red and his fangs extended. Ruby and Graham’s bodies twisted, fur sprouting from their skin and claws from their fingers, faces elongating into snouts lined with sharp and dripping teeth. Killian drew his sword so fast it was a blur to David’s eyes as he swung it at the woman, stopping a hair’s breadth from her neck. Even Victor stood tense and ready, fingering a razor-honed scalpel he’d retrieved from the goddess knew where, as madness sparked in his eyes.

“Stop it,” Snow cried, whirling around as she tried to defend against everyone at once. “She’s here as a friend.”

“She tried to kill me!” snarled Emma, and Killian pressed the edge of his sword against the woman’s skin. She gasped and blinked as a small line of blood appeared beneath it.

“I—I didn’t,” she stuttered. “I did my best to save you.”

“That’s not what it sounded like from where I was standing,” retorted Emma. “Or from where I’d been flung on the ground, to be more precise.”

“You don’t know my mother.” The woman’s tone, despite the sword at her throat and the snarling wolves and the mad scientist, the witch and the freaking vampire, was dry and heavy with irony, and David found himself impressed despite himself by her aplomb. “It’s… unwise to act directly against her,” she continued. “But she can be influenced by suggestion.”

David could see the gears begin to turn behind Emma’s eyes as she regarded the woman with a probing stare.

“Killian,” she said quietly, and with no more instruction than this her Guardian lowered his sword, though he remained, David noticed, tense and alert.

“Stand down, chaps,” he instructed.

In a flash August’s eyes were blue again and his teeth a more expected length. Ruby and August shifted back to their usual forms, and Victor—well, he still looked mad, but at least he put his scalpel away.

Emma was frowning thoughtfully at the woman. “Snow,” she said. “Why did you bring her here?”

“She’s my kin,” replied Snow. “Look.”

She pulled back the sleeve of her jacket to reveal the image of a tree brach curling around her wrist. David had seen the branch before, many times, but had always taken it for a tattoo. Now, though, he watched as it began to move, to wave as though caught in a summer’s breeze, and a bird appeared from out of nowhere to perch upon it. The woman pulled up her own sleeve to reveal the same branch and a very similar bird, and when the two women held their wrists together their branches intertwined and the birds began to sing.

“Llwyth daear,” said Emma. “Earth tribe. I suppose I should have seen that.”

“You had other things on your mind,” said Snow. “But I saw it right away. Regina is my uncle’s daughter. My uncle who left the tribe when he fell in love with a human woman. We never heard from him again.”

“He died,” said the woman—Regina—shortly.

“Oh.” Snow’s fingers reached out to curl around Regina’s. “I’m sorry.”

Regina smiled. “Thank you.”

“Well this is a touching reunion,” drawled August. “But it doesn’t explain why you brought her back here.”

“For the information, of course,” said Emma, fixing Regina with a pointed look. “She’s here to tell us all about her mother. Aren’t you, Regina.”

Regina nodded. “I am.”

—

#csssns #cssns20 #cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #magic au #supernatural beings #college au #kinda sorta #captain swan #and a whole lot of other stuff #like a whole lot more #profdanglaisstuff #the eternal and unseen #carpedzem

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