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hlizr50 · 3 years ago

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Labor Day Bonus Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Nothing like a holiday giving me an excuse to post the next chapter early. It's one of my absolute favorites.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

Gwyn yawned, her entire form stretching and tightening. She knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed by Nesta and Emerie, but she just smiled serenely. She had needed this – time to talk and laugh and enjoy good food with her two closest friends in the world. The fae lights were dim, casting the private library in dusky shadow. Book spines were barely visible on the shelves, but she was content to sit and enjoy the conversation. She sighed before turning her focus to her Valkyrie sisters sitting on the floor, finding Nesta with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“What?”

The eldest Archeron patted her hand on a tufted woolen floor pillow, green like a spring meadow. “Sit, Gwyneth. We need to talk.” Unease coiled in her stomach, but she slid down from the couch, clutching another throw pillow to her chest.

“What do we need to talk about?” Gwyn’s voice was tinier than she’d intended, and she knew the question was ridiculous as soon as she asked it.

“You’re tired. You’re sad. Nesta knocked you on your ass today,” Emerie answered, concern glowing in her dark gaze.

“That doesn’t mean something is wrong with me,” Gwyn giggled, but she knew her mirth was unconvincing. “You both are skilled fighters. Maybe Nesta has just gotten better than me.”

“I haven’t and you know it.”

Gwyn turned her attention to a very interesting tassel on the pillow she held. She could feel the pressure stinging her eyes and tried so hard to push down the tears that had so quickly threatened. She felt gentle fingers at her chin, pulling her gaze until she met Nesta’s gray stare.

“Gwyn. Talk to us. You are our sister. We love you. We’re worried about you.”

Her sisters. The knowledge that she had Nesta and Emerie had kept her going these past weeks, kept her stubborn heart and eyes from giving up. And now it was that care and comfort that unraveled her. She felt the hot trickle down her cheeks as Nesta’s calloused fingers brushed tendrils of hair away from her face. But she couldn’t say the words. She wasn’t one of those females that needed a male to be happy and thrive. She was a powerful warrior, strong and skilled.

“Is it Azriel, Gwyn?” The voice came from her other side, along with a feather-light brush of fingertips down her back. Emerie. Gwyn blinked and took three steadying breaths, allowing the patience and care from her sisters wash over her. It took a few moments before she felt she could form the words she needed.

“He started avoiding me, after the necklace,” her face cooled when Nesta removed her hands and reached down to grasp one of her own. “I let it go on for a few days, but I missed him. We were friends, and he… he helped me when I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes we would talk, most times we would train. After we found out about the necklace he stopped coming out to the ring at night. He would come to the door, and when he saw I was there he would leave. So I cornered him one day after training. It was all so stupid and I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

“What did you say to him?” Emerie asked, her voice soft as velvet.

“I told him that the necklace was a stupid thing to do, but we all do stupid things. I said that Elain and I had both deserved better, but I knew he would be better. I told him that I missed him, that all was forgiven, and then I asked if things could go back to normal.” Gwyn looked back up to Nesta, then turned to Emerie. “He said we were friends, and that everything would go back to normal.” She took a shuddering breath, earning a squeeze on her hand.

“And then he just… disappeared.”

She felt the burning return to her eyes and her throat, recalling that night in the rain when she had desperately wished he would come to her.

“That’s when you started zoning out at training. And punching the post until you were bruised and bleeding,” the Illyrian female realized.

“I knew it was bad when Cassian made you stop,” Nesta mused.

“Twice,” Gwyn confirmed, tears welling again. “I trained hard during the day, harder at night. The effort and pain helped distract me from the loss of his friendship… and from the nightmares.” She stared down at their interlace hands, noting how the low light made Nesta’s and Emerie’s skin contrast so deeply to hers and letting the tears fall in earnest.

“I thought they were better, Gwyn.” The worry lacing Nesta’s voice was thick, and suddenly the priestess felt guilty for keeping it from her… from them. She couldn’t look at them, but clutched their hands.

“They were, but now�� it’s been really bad these last few days.” Gwyn sniffled and pulled her hands away from the comfort of her chosen family, opting instead to clutch the tasseled pillow to her chest again. She needed that grip, as if it were the only thing that could hold her together. “Almost a week ago I was in the training ring at night. It had been a difficult day, my hands were throbbing, Merrill was being… well, Merrill. It was raining when I walked out the door, but I needed time and space so I went out and sat in the middle and just let the rain wash everything away. Azriel came to the doorway, the first time since I’d cornered him that day. And… he barely spoke to me. I even said I’d had nightmares almost every day. And… and he told me I should go inside and then he just left.”

Gwyn tucked her knees up to the pillow against her chest and covered her face with her hands. Her body shook, much like it had that night when he’d left her – when something had shifted. Her throat felt so tight around her words. “It’s like something broke then. I stopped going to the training ring, and started working extra to distract myself. And the nightmares,“ she sobbed. She wasn’t ready to admit the terror of her changing dreams, but she was also desperate to tell someone how she had been suffering. “I have the same one every night – of that day at Sangravah. But… but when the general is done, when he tells the other males to continue taking from me…” Her breath sawed in and out of her and she could feel herself tremble. She could barely make her voice work as she uttered the terrible turn that her dreams had taken.

“He doesn’t come for me,” she whispered. The air was so still that she could feel Nesta’s sharp gasp stealing it from the space. “That moment when Azriel slaughtered them – when he saved me – no longer exists. And I have to face the terror of knowing what is coming. The fear and the pain and the horror and the desperation… it all feels just as real as it did that day.”

A pair of strong arms crushed her, and then a second embrace. Gwyn let go of the pain and the fear of those nights alone, afraid of sleep and unable to seek comfort from the only person who had helped keep those dreams at bay. Fingers combed through her hair, stroked up and down her back, soothing her as she cried.

That was all there was, for how long she didn’t know. She just knew heat in her cheeks, trembling, comforting hands at her shoulders, on her back, and in her hair. Then fingers gripped her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. She was sure her skin was red and splotchy, but she looked up to find Nesta’s own watery gaze.

“Gwyn, we will always come for you. All of us, including Azriel. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” the priestess answered with a nod.

“Good. As for the rest of this,” Nesta wiped her eyes and donned an expression not so unlike the days when she was brimming with the power of death. “Azriel is a fucking idiot.” Emerie burst out laughing, causing Gwyn to join with a chuckle of her own.

“I’m so glad I don’t prefer males.” The winged Valkyrie’s eyes glittered with mirth and concern, earning a nose-crinkling smile. Nesta pulled Gwyn’s attention back, pushing her jaw with a finger.

“Azriel is an idiot, but he cares for you. I’m certain of that. I haven’t known him too terribly long, but Cassian has. He’s different with you.”

“Maybe that isn’t a good thing.” Gwyn shrugged. She had thought so, too. But now he seemed to treat her with the same brooding aloofness that he reserved for practical strangers.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Nesta insisted, reaching up to brush the wetness away from her cheeks. “Cassian and I have had this conversation more times than I can even count. ‘Berdara made Az laugh today’. ‘He couldn’t stop grinning today’. ‘I’ve never heard him banter like that’.”

“Why do you have so many conversations about that?” Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh at the strangeness of that thought, that Nesta and the general would be so invested in her interactions with the spymaster.

“That’s not even the point, Gwyneth,” Nesta huffed. Gwyn stuck her tongue out, still feeling Emerie’s hands softly at her back. “I’m going to kick Azriel’s ass back into line, but…” The priestess could see that Nesta was trying to choose her words, lips pursing and eyes staring above her. Then those icy eyes came back, full of determination.

“Do you care for him, Gwyn? Or, I suppose, how do you care for him?”

She just stared into Nesta’s eyes for a long moment, trying to find the right things to say. How to express what was churning in her heart. “Of course I care for him. He has become a dear friend.” Her friend’s gaze didn’t falter, daring her to say what she hadn’t admitted to anyone, not even to herself.

“And?”

Gwyn jerked her head, surprised that Emerie also seemed to know that there was more. The Illyrian’s countenance held that same caring determination, waiting with barely concealed expectation. Gwyn could only sigh.

“I… I don’t know. I trust him. Implicitly. He’s the only male I’ve never feared. And he’s beautiful, of course.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” Nesta sighed wistfully. Gwyn giggled and swatted her friend playfully on the shoulder.

“I feel… drawn to him, like we understand each other’s darkness. I should be terrified of him, theoretically, but I can’t be. And if… I don’t know what romance is supposed to be, what a relationship looks like. But I think, if he wanted to try, I would say yes. Without hesitation. Even after what happened at Sangravah,” she admitted. “But first and foremost… I just want his friendship. If that’s the only thing I can have then I’ll be happy.” And that was the truth. She would have him in her life, in whatever capacity. His absence was far too difficult to bear.

An enormous yawn pushed out of her lungs and she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Nesta and Emerie laughed, Nesta pushing herself to her feet before offering her hands to Gwyn.

“You need to sleep. Hopefully tonight will be more restful,” she said as she pulled Gwyn to her feet and swiftly gathered her into a hug. She felt Emerie at her back, enveloping her as well. Gwyn could only smile and release a contented sigh, reveling in the love of her chosen sisters. She felt lighter, relieved to have shared the struggles she’d been facing. But then she yawned again, the exhaustion in her bones suddenly the only thing she could feel. Her eyelids drooped and she felt herself losing her battle with sleep even as she stood there, still wrapped in that Valkyrie embrace. As her body became heavy, yet weightless, she couldn’t comprehend the words she heard.

“Ready to crash boys night, Em? I might actually kill him.”

~~~

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys lounged in the study, each nursing crystal glasses with varying amounts of amber liquid. Azriel studied the cut angles in his glass, the firelight reflecting kaleidoscopes of brightness off the liquor. He’d already had more to drink than usual, not typically one to lose his wits from alcohol. But tonight he had partaken in a bit extra, perhaps in the vain hope that the libations would settle his mind. The roaring thoughts still stormed through him from earlier in the day – guilt, stubbornness, anger, shame.

Of course, the alcohol staunched none of it.

“You seem particularly broody tonight, Az.” Cassian’s amused voice broke through that cyclone and Azriel fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. His brother just smirked victoriously at him, knowing the truth in his observation. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that sleepover at the house, would it?”

“Sleepover at the house?” Rhys turned his starlit gaze toward the shadowsinger, but Azriel didn’t have any intention of answering. Cassian, however, so enjoyed irritating him.

“A certain redhead priestess has been acting strangely and Nesta is determined to figure it out,” he drawled, pointed amber gaze fixed on the spymaster. “I think it has something to do with our tall, dark, and brooding brother here.”

“Gwyneth Berdara?” Azriel flicked his eyes toward the High Lord whose brows were arched in surprise. “Why would that have anything to do with you?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Azriel groaned when Cassian began to answer, sinking deeper into the velvet tufts of the oversized armchair, “that the two of them want to be friendlier than friends.”

“Gwyn and I have a professional, platonic relationship. Nothing more,” Azriel growled. He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to deal with Cassian’s ribbing, or to explain it away to Rhys. He looked up to find the Illyrian general had set down his glass and was leaning back casually, crossing his arms.

“Is that so?” Azriel wanted to slap that smug grin off his face. “Is that why you can never keep your eyes off her at training? Is that what’s happening when you grin at her when she gives your shit right back to you? When she makes you throw your head back and laugh?” He could feel the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Laugh? Out loud?” The High Lord balked and Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I laugh, thank you very much.”

“Not like that, you don’t,” Cassian countered. Azriel just shook his head as his brother turned to Rhys. “You should see it, Rhys. I never thought I’d see the day – “

“WHERE IS HE?!” A female voice echoed from down the hall.

“Nesta?” Rhys wondered aloud.

“Where is that idiotic overgrown bat? I swear on the Cauldron I’m going to kill him.”

“Yup, that’s Nesta,” Cassian confirmed with a groan. “What the fuck did I do now? I wasn’t even at the house –“

The study doors burst open as Nesta pushed through, gray eyes shimmering with rage. Azriel leaned forward as her gaze fell on him.

“YOU.”

“Me?”

“Him?” Cassian gawked, but then grinned wickedly. “Oh, this is a nice change. I could get used to this.”

“Keep your mouth shut or you’re next,” Nesta snapped as she strode in front of Azriel’s chair. “Azriel, would you care to tell me why I just spent an hour comforting one Gwyneth Berdara while she sobbed in my arms? Any ideas?” His eyes grew wide and his face went slack, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening.

“Nothing to contribute, Shadowsinger? How fucking convenient. Maybe you could tell me why you avoided her even after you told her that things would go back to normal and that you were friends? Or perhaps you could explain why you left her alone in the rain the one time you did actually talk to her, even after she told you her nightmares were bad again?”

“I –“ He didn’t get a chance. Nesta stepped closer.

“Not done, Az. Not even close. Maybe you have an explanation for her working herself into exhaustion at the library to avoid time alone? Or the reason she doesn’t go to the training ring at night anymore?” Azriel just stared, dumbfounded at what she was saying. He pressed himself back into the chair as the honey-haired female placed her hands on the armrests and leaned in so far they breathed the same air.

“Tell me, Azriel,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion and ice, “why every night for the last week she has dreamed of Sangravah. And in that nightmare when that general is finished hurting her, she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.” And Nesta pulled a hand back and slapped him.

Azriel knew his eyes were wide as saucers as the breath punched out of him. He barely registered the tingle of pain in his cheek, absorbing what she had told him. Gwyn’s nightmares. Every night. And they had twisted into something even more horrifying.

How could any part of her think that he wouldn’t come for her?

He looked back to Nesta who had backed away. Cassian had risen to comfort her, brushing tears away from her cheeks and murmuring into her ear. Azriel got to his feet and took a measured step toward them.

“Nesta, I –“

“You care for her, don’t you?”

Azriel knew they could see the wetness in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been wrong to leave her, wrong about so many things. And he was done denying.

“Of course I do, Nesta. More than I think I can explain right now.”

“Then fix this.” Her voice was colder than his could ever be, a warning that he wouldn’t like what would happen if he didn’t make it right. But he had every intention to.

He was miserable without her.

Azriel gave Nesta a curt nod, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the study. He kept his surprise masked as he passed Emerie, who was leaning in the doorway, also wearing that expression – promising violence for hurting one of their own. He nodded to her, too, acknowledging his part in all of this. Then he practically ran down the hall and through the entrance of the river house, only taking three steps in the night air before taking to the sky.

Straight to the House of Wind.

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#gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #fanfiction #AO3 #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction

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strwbryshortcake · 4 years ago

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Classroom 1-4 (tsukki kei)

a;n ⇶ hello ! it’s my first time writing abt HQ and also my first time posting something on here. also, tell me if you see any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language and even tho i consider myself to be good enough to write in english, i’m still not perfect lol tell me what you think if someone happens to read this ? it would help a lot, thank you and enjoy i guess!!!

pairing ⇶ tsukishima kei x gn!reader

genre ⇶ highschool, slight angst to fluff, one shot

w;c ⇶ 938

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

You didn’t know what possessed you when you grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him towards your face. His eyebrows shot up just a tiny bit but it was enough for you to know he was surprised by your reaction.

« I’m not going to repeat myself, you hissed, leave me the fuck alone. »

You released him and took a step back as you exhaled the air stuck in your lungs for what seemed to be an eternity. You were glad you two were alone in the classroom you were assigned to clean.

It wasn’t your habit to act like this but you had enough of his snarky comments and childish behavior. You wanted to stop feeling his eyes on your back as you were facing the board. And God knows you were sick and tired of him kicking your chair to get your attention. Tsukishima Kei had became a nuisance and you wanted nothing more than to erase he stupid smirk he always had on his lips. At the beginning of the year, your first thought was that he was exactly your type : tall, lean, muscles peeking through the material of his shirt, and… he had big hands. There was nothing you loved more than hands. And his were perfect. Veins rolling under his pale skin, nails trimmed short, calloused palms and you couldn’t help but imagine them against yours, how they would swallow them, making you look even tinier that you were. Truth is, you had a crush on him the moment you saw him walking to his seat, which happened to be behind you. At first, you were excited, tiny little butterflies starting to grow in your stomach but once he opened his mouth to talk, you knew he was going to get on your nerves :

« Do you mind brushing your hair sometime ? It’s so bushy I can hardly see the board, you turned to face him.

- Oh please, you’re like 7 feet tall. »

He didn’t answer, just glared at you.

« What? You got a problem? you said as you rolled your eyes, he still didn’t say anything, yeah that’s what i tought. »

If you knew that it was going to be beginning of the war between the two of you, you wouldn’t have said anything.

« Alright, he just said, looking away from your eyes. »

You stared at him and his tall figure, drinking the sight of his body and sighed. You wished he would’ve been nicer to you, because in all honesty, you were still attracted to him and it broke your heart to think that he obviously didn’t feel the same.

« I can’t believe I used to have crush on you, you scoffed, taking the broom to swipe the floor.

- What? He finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing at what you said.

- You heard me. I used to think you were the hottest guy in the whole school… well, that said, that was before you started annoying me everyday.

- Used to? »

You finally looked up at him, nodding. He had the weirdest look in his eyes.

« Why? Yes, used to, you’re such a pain in the ass I can’t possibly still be crushing on you !

- Well, I have a crush on you.

- What? »

He took a step further and put his hand on the desk behind you, leaning forward so his face was just above yours.

« I have a crush on you.

- Y-You have to be kidding, Tsukishima…, you stammered.

- Am not. I think you’re cute.

- Then why were you being so insufferable? your voice was a whisper as you felt his breath on your face, why didn’t you say anything?

He didn’t answer and kept staring at you, his eyes locked on yours. Silence took place for a moment before he opened his mouth again.

« I don’t know… I guess I’m not good with words.

- Then show me. »

He gauged you for a few seconds, his eyelids fluttering as he finally looked at your mouth.

« Can I kiss you? he asked »

You grabbed him by the collar for the second time today and closed the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing onto his. You were taken aback by the softeness of his mouth, you didn’t know why but you always imagined it to be chapped. One your hand snaked its way into his hair while the one that was pulling him tightened around the fabric of his shirt. You could smell the detergent he used on it and a small hint of almost long gone perfume. You became really aware of what you were doing when the hands you fantasized so often about settled themselves on your cheeks, stroking them lightly as he pulled away, out of breath. You looked at each other before tilting your heads back the way they were a few seconds before, kissing again. His tongue caressed yours gently. He pulled away again, the corner of his lips slightly raised.

« Come on, we still have to clean this room.

- Then you have to get to practice right?

- Mmh, I’m going to tell them I’m sick. I want to walk you home. You know, not be a pain in the ass as you, oh so, gracefully said, his face was blank of any expression, but his tone was playful.

- Alright, big boy, as you wish. »

You loved the sound that came out of his mouth as he ruffled your hair, this time a real smile on his lips. As you got to work, you couldn’t help but think Why do boys think it’s okay to act like dicks around the person they like?

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukki x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #tsukki #tsukki fluff #tsukki angst #hq angst #hq fluff #tsukishima hq #tsukki haikyuu

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

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Hallow : ch VII - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 7 / ?? - In which there are new and powerful dynamics in play.

The first day that Emma didn't come racing back in realization of her folly, Killian did not worry. She was stubborn, plucky, and absolutely, intolerably obstinate. She would return, he was certain of it, and he stoked the fire smugly while the Darkness coiled in him, winding tighter with each tick of the clock.

It was no mistake that the voice of the Darkness mimicked the voice of his crocodile-skinned previous master. They both delighted in feats of evil and hated to wait for anything, impatient in every dastardly moment. The days passing made the Darkness break him in ways he hadn't faced since before his imprisonment, with nothing for it to take its anger out on besides him and the body that they shared.

On the fourth day, it shrieked non-stop with no throat to make raw or lungs that needed to draw air, just a steady shriek within his head that rarely switched octaves. When an eardrum burst, it would heal enough to warble tinny scratches before jolting back into shrieking until it burst again in a terrible cycle. Killian could no longer stoke the fire as heavy summer rain poured from the sky and rolled into his abused ears, his hair sticking to him as he sat in the deluge.

On the sixth day it broke his fingers in sections, further mutilating his already swollen and weeping hand that had been scratched by the Dagger, the skin tearing open anew and pouring forth foul smelling gunk. He wrapped it in an old shirt padded with some herbal salve Emma had made and left behind, absently wondering if she left it on purpose for him, or had simply forgotten it. Maybe she would return for it?

Hopeful? You're hopeful she will return? What do you not understand about how hapless and nugatory you are? How futile your stupid hope is? She is not coming back, you insignificant barnacle. This all could have been avoided if you had just listened to me, if you had taken the deal Nil gave you!

"So what do we do?"

The Darkness did not answer, and his head cleared to an eerily sinister silence.

"What do I do?"

Again, no answer came except for the wind moaning through the trees. For another three days, he suffered more of the Darkness' cruelty before he gave in and realized Emma truly was not returning. Or…

A barely there whisper in his mind broke through, a small stab of worry in a distant corner. What if she could not return? What if something had happened, what if something was wrong? Emma had no idea about the outside world, about the customs or cultures her parents had abandoned in the creation of the United Realms.

Moving with a manic frenzy, Killian tore down the camp with a single goal in sight. He was going to find Emma and save her, then chastise her to high hell -

Or, at least get the Dagger piece from whoever had her in their grasp -

And he knew where to start: tracking the two women who took her, Alice and Cheshire, from their ill-fated meeting at Never-Wonder Land. Transporting himself there took more energy than he cared for with the Darkness as loud as it was. Focusing on it not overwhelming his already muddled state of being, he pushed past the yellow tape partitions put up by mortal detectives to enter into the ruins of the club.

"Looking for a souvenir, Killian? Maybe some recommendations on where to get a good gyro?" Tink's voice rang out from the shadows.

"You're still here? You're free Tink, why -"

"We may be free, but that doesn't mean we have anywhere else to go," Tink called down, a heavy sadness in her statement. There was a rumble and a low purr before he caught a shadowy glimpse of the Sphinx stretching on a broken wall out of the corner of his eye. He turned back to Tink. Tink sighed, and he could hear the shrug in her voice. "It's home."

Killian kicked at a broken light that was covered in mirror pieces. It still glowed slightly in the dim room, shooting out shards of light.

"The Light One is not with him." Wendy's voice echoed from behind him. "How odd. Why have you returned here, Dark One?"

"I need to find Emma. I believe she is in trouble," Killian called into the dusty gloom. Bricks crumbled nearby, the sound catching his attention before a large paw pinned him down.

"Half truth. There's some honesty you have left out. Puzzling." Wendy's eyes flicked with golden light, her claws digging through his shirt and trousers as she pushed down on him. Her tail flicked back and forth; Killian couldn’t reply, his lungs crushed and impossible to make noise with. Wendy's eyes widened, her pupils growing as if she could magnify her sight. "Oh. Oh, I -"

She stepped back, staring at a space near a broken beam. Tink's voice called down to her. "What is it? What's the truth he would not say?"

Wendy hesitated, but removed her paw. "He's scared of being alone with the thing inside his head. He's scared that it will take over or drive him mad without - " Killian protested loudly, and the Darkness giggled in a jeer he could almost see. Wendy's tail swished agitatedly. "Not important. He wants to find Alice and Robyn, but has no idea where to find them."

"Why should we trust him?" Tink asked, moving to an easier perch to spectate from. "He seems to be in terrible shape. I bet you a meat pie that the princess found a new boyfriend."

Wendy flapped once, the force of her wing beat sending him rolling and forcing his noise of disgust back down his throat. She laid her large head on Tink’s lap, making Tink look even tinier.

"I told you, they weren't together. There was something, but it was not yet romantic. Truth. And I won't take that bet; it's most likely the truth the princess abandoned him in some capacity.” Wendy wrinkled her nose. “He reeks of Darkness. Also a truth. I say we lock him in with the Tweedles, but as a permanent snack. Delicious truth."

"Please," Killian moaned, voice more wheeze than request. His spleen reconnected and reorganized itself, his innards processing their crushing.

Tink's eyes went wide. "What was that? Say again."

Killian licked his lips, the Darkness trying to heal him, and let out a groaned rasp.

"Please?"

Tink pushed off Wendy's head, and landed on the floor gracefully as Killian coughed and his ribs knitted back together.

"The Dark One never asks for help, and never begs." The Darkness sharply jammed another rib into place in agreement. "Why did you ask us for help, and not anyone else?"

"I was hoping our previous… experiences with each other might lend me favor." Crawling to stand and moving into Tink's space, he rocked on his heels, smiling with what he hoped was a smolder. “We could even discuss a few things like last time - "

"Liar," Wendy purred, and Killian debated briefly if he should stuff and mount the beast. "He's seeking physical distraction from the Darkness and his fears for the Light One, but he does not really want it, even in the form of forni -"

"I've got the idea Wendy," Tink hissed. "So you're trying to distract yourself from Emma. No way are we ever going to be - no. Just… no. You were practically possessed when we - I mean just dark and angry. I'm not that desperate anymore, and have absolutely no idea what I was thinking. It was awful. No."

Wendy let out a snort, and a slow, mewling, "Truth."

"Wendy, for the Goddess’ sake!" Tink yelled, and the Sphinx made a hissing noise in annoyance, her tail swinging. Pointing at Killian and jabbing him roughly in the chest with her finger, Tink hissed. "Killian. Tell me the truth."

Killian paused, clenching his fist, the other too swollen to close. "I'm worried for Emma. If she's hurt, I cannot be free… And I don't want her to die."

Tink glanced up at Wendy, who gave an affirmative nod. Leveling a gaze at him, she stepped back to put space between him and herself, smiling curtly. "Fine. We will help you. I have a few guesses where they may have gone, but the top tier - They could have gone to Ursula, but if they did there's no way we could help."

Killian wheezed harder. " The Ursula? The witch who defied her father and Triton in order to save the Selkies from -"

"Yes," Tink said gravely.

"But she's dead, Triton killed her. I saw it when I -"

"She was cursed. She is still cursed. We won't be able to reach her without a guide." Tink sighed. "According to our sources, the Goblin Prince is using Triton this very instant to wreak havoc on the water, presumably looking for your princess. Ursula is hidden very well, and will have added more defenses, whether she has the princess or not."

Landing next to Tink with a thump, Wendy grimly stared Killian down, her tail curled up into a loose twitch back and forth. Tink scratched her chin affectionately as Wendy made a small chirp. "We could… We could ask Marta. I know her truth and she would -"

"That's brilliant, yes, I'm sure she doesn't know about Triton’s capture. If she did, we would know."

Killian cleared his throat. "So, that means…?"

Wendy smirked. "We're all going to Iceland to get Marta, who will get you in to see Ursula. This can work. It will ."

Tink grinned her sharp toothed grin. "And if it doesn't, at least Marta can finally get closure."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Riding Wendy was stomach turning, even with Killian’s experiences of mishaps with gravity. Tink seemed to have the better seat in Wendy's mane of hair. This combined with the fact that she had frail wings that she would use occasionally gave her a leg up on him, and obviously allowed her to enjoy a more pleasant ride. He, on the other hand, found himself spending most of the trip wishing it was over.

They had at least filled him in on who Marta was, and he had raised an eyebrow at that: a neutral party, one of the last holdouts between the Merfolk and Anisapi schism that made up one part of the war. She was a mistress of Triton's who happened to be some sort of Selkie royalty, another dirty secret left buried in the old world when the Fae realms were divided.

Ursula had taken a firm stance on the Selkies being included in the new realms, free of their lesser status and free of the degradation they received from other Fae deeming them 'animals' or Anisapi deeming them too 'Fae' or 'Hume'. The latter was practically a slur in the Anisapi culture. The loss of the Selkie colony was still a division in Mermaid culture, and the Seafolk did not associate with the Anisapi, or vice versa.

As part of the rebellion, many Seafolk who sided with the Anisapi shed their traditional tails in favor of different choices. Ursula earned the title of Sea Witch for her skill in brewing potions to help the Seafolk do so. She herself chose the gauche form of a sleek, jet-black octopus, spitting in the face of her brother, Triton. His banishment of her, and her own magic creating her secret hideaway of Pacifica for her following, were taboo war stories that the United Realms ignored with gusto - but not Tink or Wendy.

"When you live in the world of the left behind or exiled, the stories they ignore become your culture," Tink said with a shrug. "The royals and all those rules… I hated Pann, don't get me wrong, but I can understand how someone could go crazy. All that stuffy, pretentious bullshit. It's why people are rallying around the Goblin Prince here, even if he's lying straight to their faces - they are desperate for a change. The princess and you working together and her freeing those in Pann's clutches is giving him a run for his jewels, though. She's becoming quite the folk hero."

Killian rolled his eyes. "Both are terrible choices. Good to see that politics never seem to change."

Wendy grunted. "There is cynical truth to that. Now prepare yourselves, we are almost there."

The clouds parted, and the rocky coastline of Iceland appeared as they approached Reykjavik.

Marta lived in a simple home in the countryside on the beach, the dark sand leading right up to her porch. Killian could see right away that she was a Selkie, even without her pelt. Silver gray hair was elegantly pulled into an arrangement over her sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, and rounded face. Her grimace made her look starkly angular, teeth far too sharp to be a human’s, fingers tightening on the black shawl she wore over a navy blue dress.

She spoke in a gravelly and heavily accented voice as they approached, Wendy breaking away to chase the waves with the delight of a kitten.

"What brings you to my door, Tinkerbell, part Siren of the waters near Oikos and part Fairy of the Olive Groves? What companions do you ask me to invite over my threshold? What news reaches me on this shore?" The woman's gaze was eagle-like, her dark tawny eyes lit with gold. Up close she looked regal, and far less tattered.

"I am afraid I bring bad tidings to your door, Marta, and grim news. I wish I came with good fortune, but what I have to tell you would break your heart. It is better I tell you than leave you in ignorance."

Marta sighed, and waved a hand for them to follow her. "I'll make some coffee, and get your Sphinx a bowl of cream. Because you speak the truth, Tinkerbell, I will also give you a potion for her to look Hume if she so chooses."

"Marta," Tink let her eyes widen as they entered the shabby kitchen. "Don't use that -"

"I've been considering reclaiming the word 'Hume' from the slur it has become; especially for those of us who are left and have faced what it means to be looked down upon one way or another. If it offends you, truly, I will refrain." Marta poured coffee into mismatched mugs, and emptied a carton of cream into a patterned bowl. She returned to the deck, setting the bowl on the edge as they sat in deck chairs.

Killian shrugged, and Tink squirmed slightly.

Marta turned her to intense stare at him, looking him up and down. She placed her mug on a table and steepled her fingers. "You stink of Darkness, guilt, and broken promises. What are you?"

And you smell of old fish and briney tea, you awful -

"I'm the Dark One, but my given name is Killian Jones. My family name is -"

"Blackwater." Marta nodded, cocking her head in thought. "I knew your mother and father. Your father was a terrible bastard, and I am sorry for the way he must have treated you boys."

Killian tensed, and the Darkness swirled in anger and betrayal at the old memories. "That was a long time ago."

"Your feelings give you away, but that is not something I am willing to unpack - why have you come?"

Tink gave a heaving sigh, and squared her shoulders as she put down her tea.

"Triton has been captured. He's currently being tortured." Marta dropped her tea cup, her hands shaking. "The Goblins are using his magic to search for Ursula."

Marta let out a noise of despair. "No. No, he - "

"I'm sorry," Tink said quietly, gently rubbing Marta's shoulder. The Selkie looked stricken with panic. "You need to go to Ursula, and that's why I brought the Dark One. He has business with Ursula, and you know the way. Take him, and Ursula can help you both."

"That's… I can do that. He will need a tail or two, but I will do it. Goddess be good, my Triton, oh my heart. Do you believe Ursula can help free him?" Marta trailed off, clutched her chest, rubbing in small circles.

Gain their attention, vessel, we have better things to do than watch this pitiful display of emotions.

"I'm right here, so I can hear this conversation," Killian said dryly. "I just need -"

Tink ignored him. "That's who they pitted him against by trying to storm into Ursula's lair, which… Poor decision on their part, but that's Goblins for you."

"Alright. Are you coming?" Marta asked Tink, and Killian threw up his hands with an exasperated huff.

Tink shook her head. "No. I need to get Wendy to her brothers, and we have a lead to where we can find work."

"You're going to leave me with - " Killian tried to interject, but both women were standing, Marta guiding Tink to the door.

"Be safe. I will see you sooner than later, I hope? Your sisters pop by occasionally when they get a chance. Would you like me to pass on anything?"

"No. They haven't known where I’ve been, and I can't begin that conversation right now. Especially between Roselia and Fawn. It'd be too much." Tink sighed, and Killian moved to the doorway, trying to gain their attention, but became distracted by the sight of Wendy with cream dripping down her face. The Sphinx belched, and Tink let out a laugh, mounting her back. Marta shook her head, and waved as they left, leaving Killian alone to figure out this Marta woman.

"Well." Marta turned to him, with a look of grim determination on her face. "We should hurry, it's a long ways off to get to any of the entrances to Ursula's. You are not able to breathe underwater comfortably, yes?"

No drowning works for you, does it? Not in rum, self hatred, pity, foolhardy attempts at destroying yourself -

Killian ignored the hiss of the Darkness, following her back into her cottage, frustrated by the entire ordeal. "No. Not particularly."

Marta eyed him thoughtfully. Gesturing to a wall of vials and small bottles, she smiled warmly. "How do you feel about an eel tail to go with that dreadful gloom of yours? I have lovely draughts for a Muraenidae that I mixed with a Torpedo marmorata to make a real electric eel. None of those ridiculously muddy knife fish variants, along with a pinch of Myctophid for style. They give you the most lovely glow if you end up in the dark."

"I refuse. I know the risks of messing with these potions - "

"I forget how old and out of touch you are. The risks of these are no longer as threatening, and they really never were." Marta gritted her teeth, taking a breath. Letting it out in a heavy exhale, she traced a finger over the labels. "It was a lie by the Merfolk to keep bloodlines pure. Looking back now, it seems silly to think that these terrible risks only happened to Merfolk, Nymphs, Naiad, Sirens - never to the already mixed kin or those who chose to stay in an animal form."

"That sounds -"

"Like something that the rulers would do? Imagine my surprise at still having to correct Merfolk, Fae, humans, and even my own kind that we don't have to wear a skin completely - that we can be partially female or male Fae. Personally, I wear my seal skin up to my breasts - not because I am modest or opposed to nudity, but because scratching your bosom on the crags is a good way to gather sharks and catch an infection. It also simply hurts like a bitch." Looking at him with humor in her smile, she gave a wink. "Not that you would know. Now, for you I think… Eel or a deep sea shark. Something murky, so you can hide in the gloom, but secretly flashy and with too much ego. I have octopus and squid, but getting the hand of, er, well, eight more hands - it’s not great for beginners. The shark tail is good for speed, but less great for tight maneuvers..."

"I really don't care, as long as it gets us there."

"Well, well, look at you. You are very worried about this princess you care nothing for." Killian froze, stiffening. Marta pressed a bottle of shimmering white liquid into his good palm, the throb under the bandage on the other hand particularly sharp. "I can smell her on your thoughts. To think, Darkness chasing Light. It's kind of romantic - "

Disgusting. After this is over, I believe that her pelt will make nice slippers.

"No. There's nothing like that at all, I just don't want her to be dead. She's a naive woman, with no idea how infuriating her demeanor is. It's easier having her as a Master or Mistress because she doesn't - "

"Sure, it's fine." Marta smiled, pulling gray material up over her body, wearing it like a dress. It clung off her shoulders, but her arms and hands were free, even as she dipped a seal tail into the water where her legs had once been. "Come along, then. It's a long swim."

Killian took a deep breath through his gritted teeth, closing his eyes. Taking a small sip of the vial, the Darkness let out a purr of pleasure at the magic binding to them - not white like Emma's, but darker, almost more black than gray, old and esoteric as it forced its vessel to its knees. Killian tried to hold on, his fingernails scraping gouges into the rockscape of the coast as he changed. Shedding his clothing with quick flicks of magic, and slipping into the cool water, he felt relief finally from the potion’s effects. His long eel body felt like pure muscle, dark and striped coiling strength that propelled him with ease by just a flex in the muscles below the navel.

"Looks good on you," Marta commented, quietly. "And, although we shouldn't, it will scare any merfolk that we come across in the opposite direction. Eel kind aren't welcome in the United Realms without surgery or magic."

"They really went all out to keep themselves as traditional merfolk. That's disgusting," Killian hissed, bubbles rising. His tail pulsed slightly with an electric charge.

"Just another example of blood magic and strength, but in a different way. They fear that they will be lesser by diluting pure traits." Marta's smooth movements were pure grace, schools of fish scattering around her like silver coins. "They don't realize that accepting new blood, new ideas, new growth makes us stronger."

He hummed in agreement, and they let themselves be pulled into the strong southern current, speeding down the coast.

"Why does Nil seem to know where Ursula is if no one can get to her? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of her safety? If he can use Triton to just blow her off the map -"

"Ursula is the only one that can let people in or out with her blessing. That's her curse, and what punishment Triton himself put upon her for her disobedience. Not only did she refuse her tail, but she married a half Fae Warlock, Merlin, who gave them both Anisapi bodies. He was a prolific brewer of potions, better even than Morgana. Ursula still blames herself for his punishment. It was far worse and more cruel than hers by far."

“Are you sure Ursula will welcome us with open, er, arms?”

“I used to be the Selkie princess. I introduced Merlin to Morgana, and she introduced him to Ursula. I am free to come and go as I please. Especially since I visit Merlin in his prison.”

The Darkness gave a strange quiver at the sound of the sorcerer's name. “He’s still alive?”

“He was cursed by Snow Margueryte. ' A Mortal who wants to experience the elements they use for their own gain, straying from natural law, shall be granted their wish tenfold ,'" she recited, lazily back stroking with the current. "He is cursed to be an oak tree, his earth magic forcing him to grow roots. He used to be able to speak but his voice has been almost completely swallowed by the bark."

How fitting of a cage, it seems we were not the only ones kept under royal lock and key.

"Bloody hell."

"I've tried to free him, but my guess is that the curse can only be undone by either Ursula reuniting with him, or Queen Snow reversing it herself. Both are unlikely." Marta paused thoughtfully. "Do you think your Light One could help? She has powerful magic - "

"She's not mine, and I don't know. Emma - the princess, I mean, she is too willing to help and throw herself at sympathetic tasks. While she would probably say yes, it would be reckless for her to do so. I doubt she even could."

"Well, you must have a relationship with her to be so defensive. You smell of Darkness, guilt, and this almost cloying pining - "

"Why don't we just swim in silence, yeah? I don't need some sea mongrel telling me about the notes of my bouquet," he snapped, agitated.

Marta looked at him curiously, but to her credit stayed mum for the remainder of their long journey. It was strange to feel muscles burn that he did not truly have and to experience the raw strength of what he could do in this form. While the eel's body was not meant for these long voyages, he could definitely see its use as they moved closer to the hidden portal that would lead them to Ursula's gates.

Marta had broken the silence that stretched between them to warn him of the tight path they would need to take. Both of them wriggled through an impossible series of tunneling caves, sometimes against currents or in almost pitch black darkness. As far as Killian could tell, the only way Marta could find her way was as a full seal, for at some point she had slipped her cowl completely over her upper half to transform completely. Eventually, they came to a small cylindrical chamber that led down to a shimmering portal at the deep bottom, like a well. Killian went to zip downward, but Marta nipped him, slowly removing her cowl and releasing her head and arms again.

"Stay quiet. Move slow. Just drift down gently with the current. You don't want to hit it too fast or the current on the other side will rip you to shreds…" She slowly pointed to small flickering orbs of pink that had begun to light up around the upper edges of where they had come in. "And you'll upset the Reaper Shrimp."

Killian blinked, almost laughing at the thought but listened, staying still while letting himself float slowly downward. A rock fell from above, most likely jostled by their entrance into the space, and Killian watched it push through the on and off glow of the shrimp. The rock wasn't small, the size of a large orange when it began - it passed a few of the pink creatures and broke, the small monstrosities shearing it to dust loud enough for him to hear the grind.

Killian could suddenly understand why Nil had not found an entry into Ursula's protected waters.

The entry into the portal was strange, his tail hitting first and dragging him in; one minute he was in slow motion and the next was being ripped into a suction-like current, unable to see as it jettisoned him through a path lined by stalagmites. He moved slightly, and the current responded to the sudden resistance by shoving him against one, cleanly slicing the flesh of his shoulder. He hissed, but did not move again.

After what felt like hours, the current roughly deposited them onto a sandy cave floor, a steady path that led to a cavern just visible ahead. Relaxing his tense body, he swam up for air. The water lapped at the soft rock shore, and he slid out of the water to lie on the cold stone, actually tired. There was a loud cough, and he snapped back to attention to see a large face frowning at him.

"I'd say look what the cat dragged in, but Marty, you aren't a cat and damn it if you didn't get pulled by this bastard nine tenths of the way here."

Marta laughed, pulling herself out of the water, and towards the giant woman in front of them. "Hey, Sully."

"Mmmmhmmm. Don't you ' Hey Sully ' me when you drop this cretin in my midst. Dark One, what business do you have with me, in my realm? And remember, you're talking to Ursula the Sea Witch here. I will tear you apart just to watch you knit back together."

Ursula had aged since he last saw her, no longer a young woman, but not old either. Her brown skin was wrinkled at the corners of her eyes, and her forehead showed a pinch where her frown pulled her brows in confusion at their arrival. Her size was still the same as it was when she had fought in battle during the war, the enchantment locking her into a gargantuan form. Tentacles colored in shades of wine, maroon, and nearly pitch black writhed from mottled skin under her navel, suction cups as large as a man's hand stretching along a length of fifteen feet. She moved gracefully around the large chamber, even at her full height that dwarfed Marta and his own many times over as she reached to add ingredients from a carved shelf to a large shell reservoir.

The biggest change was her braids. Once a lustrous and dark shining ebony, many - if not all - were now a silvery violet or white. It made the veins from the magic in her skin that held her in the cursed form she wore stick out, lightning like, glowing dark purple that pulsed lavender over her temples and arms.

"Marta, why have you brought this creature into my safe hold?" Ursula boomed, not looking up from her potion making to acknowledge their entrance, as they stood on the edge of the rocky outcrop. Marta slipped off her seal skin, and bowed low, but Killian spoke before she could utter a word.

"Ursula, Mistress of the Sea and Queen of the magic that holds its secrets. It has been ages since our last meeting." He tried a low bow, but the eel tail that he wore was unstable, coiling on the ground. Marta smacked a hand over her forehead.

Turning, Ursula lowered her gaze to stare with malevolence at Killian, her pupils a bright violet. "Yes, Dark One. That was intentional," she said dryly.

"I have come to see if you are holding a prisoner here, one who is in grave -"

"Oh, you dear, naive, stupid boy. You really have not changed since we last met, have you? I admit that in the past I've been nasty, but you'll find that nowadays I've mended all my ways. I've repented, seen the light, and made a switch." Ursula tutted, bringing her body completely around to face him. He could see now there were bones, shells, and bleached driftwood twisted around the ends of her braids like beads, some vaguely humanoid. Her chest was scarred and lined on both sides of her ribcage with lightning like pulses of magic. She leaned forward, laying her head on a long arm. Her head was easily the same height as his entire body as she gave him a poke with her thick, tree branch-like finger tipped with long black nails. "What is all your idle babble for? Intimidating me? You think that you can scare me here? That I'll give up a prize just because you march - or slither as it were - your cute little butt in here?"

"I - what?"

"I said, you haven't learned shit from when you were under the thumb of the Darkness completely, spreading its poison through my waters and killing innocent Fae. Even wrapped in this scrumptious little hors d'oeuvre of a package, you still spread death, Dark One. How hard that must be for you. Pretty face, that lays everything to waste. Even without hearing that dark leech, your body language alone speaks nothing but lies. I'm unfortunately taken, though, so a nibble is out of the question."

"I don't know what you're bloody well talking about. I'm here to find the Princess of the damned United Realms -"

"So is the Goblin prince, his sentries, and many others who have come to my door. Yet, you're the only one who has made it past my portal, I'll admit. The person you seek may be here, or they may not. If they were, they'd be either under my protection, or my prisoner. Either way, I wouldn't let you within a tentacle’s length of them." Ursula poked hard with her nail, stabbing against his sternum. She grinned widely, teeth flashing white. "Describe her to me, and maybe I'll remember which she is, a prisoner or a political refugee. I get many Fae flocking to my cauldron. You may have heard that I know a little magic, a talent that I always have possessed. Who knows who all the Merfolk alone I've helped? Some princess is just another day on the books for me."

"No. This isn't a game and I'll - "

"Then leave! Do you think I don't have better things to do? I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day! The position of annoying, death-spreading, evil, dark magic-using man-child has already been filled by Nil, who is wreaking havoc on the ecosystems with his magic. So, what the hell are you doing still standing here?" Ursula boomed, eyes flashing with a malicious gleam. A thick tentacle gripped and lifted him, making to throw him against the rocky cave current.

"Wait!" Marta yelled, and his eel body did what it was built to do, writhing in her slipping grip as electric shock poured off him. Ursula dropped him hard to the ground, Marta wincing with a flinch. "Sorry, I should have warned you. He's an electric eel, Sully, my own formula."

"You and your gods-be-damned potions, Marta. Congrats . I should rake you across the coals for hurting my good tentacle like that," Ursula spat sarcastically, bringing the shocked tentacle up to her face to examine it.

"You want a description of her? Alright." Killian coughed slightly, dazed as he felt the electrical current fade away like pinpricks. Marta shook her head, but he ignored her pleading for him to stop.

"She's pretty, I guess, if you like blonde and aristocracy. Classical beauty, her skin is almost all cream with a touch of sun," he began, licking his lips. His brain felt short circuited and he tried to picture her in his mind’s eye. It felt like it had been too long since he saw her, and while the Darkness was silent in its own daze, a quiet voice whispered gently that yes, it had been too long. It had been too long, and he owed her an apology - so many apologies.

"She's kind, too much for her own good really, well read, funny, bitingly sarcastic with so much wit. Brilliantly smart, but never overbearing, and where there isn't grace in her movement there is purpose instead. She's incredibly strong, so powerful. It's unbelievable that she doesn't know just how much so, or how much she affects others simply by her presence - " The Darkness roared back, and he swallowed bile that rose. "But just as with her family and so many Fae, her 'beauty' and 'purity' is as false as calling a speck of dirt a diamond - she's a vain, shrill, over glorified, annoying, whiny, preening, narcissistic, high born, undeserving, and obstinate brat worth only the crown that will grace her fat head someday. So if you do have her, regardless of whether she's a prisoner or political refugee, let's cut a deal for her to get her off each other's hands, hmm?"

Ursula shook her head, clicking her tongue, while Marta looked on with her hand over her mouth in shock. Someone had brought the Selkie a robe, and a few other women sat with her now, watching him with clear unease.

Ursula spoke coldly. "You have no idea what a pompous, arrogant, assuming fool you look like chasing the princess down here. She's right, you are absolutely oblivious - "

"She's - Emma's alright then? You have her? She's an absolute idiot who needs constant supervision - "

"Says the man who is scandalizing most of my court," Ursula cackled spitefully. He looked to see that the eel potion had worn off, and he was standing nude before the Sea Witch. Against his will, he could feel his ears going red. He waved a hand and his clothes appeared back on his form, just as a chime sounded somewhere down the adjoining corridor.

Ursula sighed, looking tired again. She leveled a harsh stare at Killian.

"Don't you ever get tired of being the villain in these tales? Don't you think you should take a look and see if you can set the story right, especially after all this time? Or are you just a dumbass who has a nice jawline and magic that can destroy an armada?" Ursula gave him a half smirk, and flipped her braids behind her shoulders. Inwardly, Killian flinched at the accusation and how much he didn't want to remember.

But you do remember, don't you? You remember what you did, how good it felt, and how you didn't care about ending your family name as long as you could get revenge. Every part of you that fights it is a liar. There is no happy ending for the Dark One - for you. No, that's not an option for this coward, this milk sop who can't even find a hapless princess who has run away -

Emma's voice filled the chamber, startling him as he tried to determine if it was a trick by the Darkness itself, but no, she was real. She walked in with a red headed woman, both of them drying their hair with linen towels while they wore the standard silken robe that the Selkie seemed to prefer. When she saw him she looked as if she had been struck, rearing back. Somewhere far off, he felt his shoulders go slightly less tense, his relief a tiny sound.

"What is he doing here?" Emma hissed, pointing at him like he was a ghost. He probably looked like some ghoul, he realized, wet hair sticking in all directions and his face unshaven. "Who brought him here?"

"I did. I seek Triton and his freedom; the Dark One seeks his own ends," Marta said, speaking up and standing. Emma took a step back, putting herself behind one of Ursula's thick tentacles. "We both need answers - "

The red head spoke up, in a haughty tone of voice that made Killian immediately believe she was a royal. "And who are you? You're not from this colony. What business do you have with my father?"

Marta looked pained. "We should discuss that in private -"

"No! What business do you have with the King of Atlantica, Selkie?" The red headed woman flushed and stomped her foot.

"I… Oh Ariel, please. I don't want to cause you distress. Just - "

"How do you know my name?"

"Your father and I, we were… We were close. He and I… It's complicated. Look, I heard he was in trouble and I want to help. Please." Marta's pleading tone only further seemed to infuriate Ariel.

"That's not a good enough answer, especially when you travel with the Dark One," Emma hissed, refusing to look at Killian, seemingly trying to compose herself. "The Dark One tried to sell me off to the Goblins, the same ones that hold Triton captive."

"Emma, I -" Killian started, but Emma cut him off, eyes snapping up to look at his face. Her eyes were tired, but fiercely focused in her rage. She looked older, and unlike her companion, was stiffly solemn in her fury.

"You do not have any right to address me so informally, or to speak to me at all!" she yelled. Killian startled slightly, seeing her as if she was stronger, different than when they parted.

"So please excuse Ariel and I for not believing a lying, traitorous pig and his newfound companion,” Emma continued, the defiant coldness in her voice settling over him as he processed her change in demeanor. “Do not address me like we're friends either; that informality has died - is gone. How many days were you alone before you realized that the company you provide is toxic?"

"Please, Swan, hear me out. I came here to -"

"To sell me to a different bidder? Do not call me that, do not come here and act like you have any right to call me Swan. You do not have the right to grovel at my feet. How dare you. Why on earth would -"

"To apologize!" His shouted reply rung through the caves, but Emma simply scoffed at him, looking livid. "Em - Princess, I needed to apologize for my part in the quarrel we had. I was out of line, and I am sorry. Please forgive me."

"You're forgiven. Now, leave."

"No, Emma - That's not what I meant - please talk to me, I -"

"There's nothing to talk about, Dark One. Begone. I don't like looking at you. I don't like hearing you, especially my name said in your voice. I don't like - no, I hate that you are here, and I don't feel safe because of your presence. I hate that you think that you have the right to just walk up to me and demand that things be like - for there to be no walls. Walls you made me build! You can't - you don't ask that of people."

"I'm sorry, but who was left in the middle of a forest without any chance of freedom? I didn't make you do anything. You built your own damned fortress because you are afraid of grief, not because - "

"Leave. I am not afraid of grief, and the hypocrisy of that statement is… Just leave. I can't do this, and I can't stand you. I am glad I left you there. I only wish I had never met you at all."

She stormed away. As he tried to pursue her again, the thick black and burgundy tentacle was back, gripping him tightly around the waist and throwing him to the ground away from Marta. Ursula towered above him, while Marta and Ariel glared at him from their sides of the cavern.

"That poor girl," Marta tutted shaking her head. "I thought you said she would be happy to see you?"

"I thought she would be. She could barely manage on her own when we were last - "

Ursula and Ariel laughed at that, a tentacle smacking him back down as he tried to stand.

"Emma can handle herself just fine, and has been. Alice and Robyn left her here because of that, and their trust in the princess speaks volumes. We have had plenty of time for her to see that she isn't some damsel like you tried to make her out to be." Ariel shrugged, her voice icy towards him. "I don't think she needs your brand of saving anymore."

Ursula chuckled lowly. "Nope. The princess is quite formidable without you. Shame that you are the last to notice. Alice even said she saved your sorry ass at Pann's club - "

"We worked together in that instance. She - "

"Prevented you from being dinner for a Sphinx. At least, that's how half of the Fae community is telling it. The Princess is becoming quite the rallying cry here in the realm of those left behind," Ursula drawled, the tip of a tentacle delicately lifting his chin as his jaw ticked.

"She was popular in the United Realms too, and people still believe she will save them." Ariel chimed in. "My father and I believe it - we prayed to Poseidon to bless her. I know she'll help; she's taken to the water like a natural - "

"Is Triton alright? Have you heard anything about his treatment, or if he's been hurt?" Marta blurted out, wringing her hands. Ariel shot her a look that was clearly full of mistrust.

Killian glanced between the Sea Witch and Marta, unsure what to make of what was happening, even as Ursula sighed and rubbed her fingers against her temples.

"Go on Marta. The girl deserves to know."

"I deserve to know what? We don't mix with Selkie kind. You're lazy filth who refuse to worship the gods, or serve their chosen kings. There's nothing to know."

Killian bristled, and the tentacle next to him came down in a hard smash, the boom echoing throughout the caves.

"You will not use that language in my domain, little Mermaid," Ursula gritted out, half yelling at Ariel.

Selkies in both forms poked their heads in from smaller caves, watching with varying expressions. Many were angry, and he couldn't blame them for their derision at the Mermaid princess’ dismissal.

"Your mother was a lovely Mermaid, and truly kind,” Marta began. “I adored her and respected her for what she and Triton had. It was something I could never give him, even though we were very much in love before he was pushed into their marriage. Then she passed in that terrible accident, and all of you had been born. I could not bear to bring my desires to Triton while he mourned the loss with his children. I grieved for Calypso, for Triton to lose such a wonderful wife and friend, and for you girls to lose such a fierce mother. She loved you so very much. Your aunt Sully, er, Ursula was trapped here. No one had seen Morgana since the sword in the lake incident with Arthur and her exile North… With Poseidon gone on to follow his mother in death, Triton had no one left. No one but me. And I missed him.

"Your father and I reconnected. It was like falling back into a lazy current, right where we left off. He made promises that he would change the laws so we could be together, but he refused to let me meet any of you, refused to let me live in the United Realms with your kind, refused to understand why my kind will not worship your grandfather. Instead, he kept me hidden like an embarrassment, just like before when Poseidon forced us apart - but this time, my heart couldn't take that pain again. I told him to find someone who he didn't have to hide, and to stop lying to himself, to stop lying to me - and I swam as far as I could. I've lived with the humans in Iceland ever since. Your father never gave chase."

Ariel wrinkled her nose, looking at Marta with disgust. "But you're, you're a - he couldn't risk letting more of your kind disrupt our civilization, we are peaceful - "

"What have I done, what has my kind done, that would make us so disgusting in your eyes? What disservice have we brought you, when you, a Mermaid, love a human?"

Ariel sputtered, her face going as red as her hair. "That is not the same in any way, shape, or form. Humans aren't Fae or privy to Fae politics -"

Killian laughed out loud, and eyes drew to him from all corners of the cave. Rocking on his heels to regain his normal swagger, he waved a hand accusingly at Ariel. "So, because he has no idea how anything works and is ignorant to all that has happened, it's alright. Are you keeping a pet, Merprincess? Or do you actually love him?"

"Like you know anything about love, you - "

"He's right, Ariel. What do you love about this human?" Ursula asked, her eyes dark and dangerous.

"Eric is kind, funny, smart - he loves animals and the sea. He isn't like other mortals, at all. He wants to be with me even though we're different, and promised me that he would bridge the gap between our worlds in anyway he could - "

"Then he is much better than you or my idiot brother," Ursula snapped. "You treat humans better than your kin, see in them what you should see in us. Do you not know what humans do to us?"

"Eric would never -"

"I believe you," Marta said quietly. "And I think your Eric probably is all those things, because Triton is too. He spoke about your kindness, your love, and your passionate curiosity that drove him insane. He was always the most worried about you. I wanted to meet his wild daughter so badly. My hopes were higher for this meeting, Ariel."

Out of one of the caves, Killian saw Emma sit with two plump spotted seals, her eyes noticeably red-rimmed even at this distance as she watched Ariel.

"I just… what could my Father like about you? You are dignified for a Selkie, and seem more intelligent, but I just don't understand why he would risk - "

Emma booed loudly from her small cave, other Selkies following suit. Ariel shot her a glare, but Emma only shrugged with her own eyes narrowed.

"Aren't you trying to risk everything for some human?" Killian asked, and Ursula allowed him to move closer to the Mermaid. "Why is any Fae lesser than you, especially one that your kind used to share this sea with? Is there any particular reason why you have to make yourself feel superior to them?" Killian pointed to the Selkies, who clapped and cheered their approval. He heard Emma's voice among them, and glanced at her. For a moment, he thought he caught a hint of approval in the sea glass color of her eyes.

"I don't need a lecture from you of all people, the man who murdered his own kind so indiscriminately. Blood ran thicker in the current than water that day. I may be young, but my people tell their children tales of the nightmare you created, Dark One." Ariel jabbed a finger at him, jutting out her chin. "If I had not escaped the Goblin's clutches in Emma's palace, I would never have imagined in my wildest day dreams that you would try to convince anyone that you were sorry for your actions. I lend a command to Princess Emma, and henceforth demand that you leave."

Scrubbing his face, Killian pointed at Ariel with annoyance. "You can't 'lend a command'. That’s not how any court protocol works!"

"Then I'm demanding you leave, you awful bully! In case you need reminding, I'm a princess, I can do as I please without protocol!" Ariel shrieked at him, and he saw Emma drop her face into her hand, most likely in embarrassment.

"Like hell, I'm not -" Killian began to protest, but Ursula slammed a tentacle between the two of them, separating him from the Mermaid.

"The Dark One has asked for a chance to redeem himself to Princess Emma. He has failed, but I am not in a position to grant him safe passage away from their and our mutual enemy. I will allow him to stay as long as he does not make my other guests uncomfortable or unsafe, and I will have Marta chaperone him. I ask that you, Ariel, use your abilities to follow through with our accord; bring me the shipwrecks so we may face this Goblin menace head on, so I may lend you and your beloved Human help in freeing your father. As a steward of goodwill, I will house Emma in this emergency, and Killian may take one ship once we are victorious in freeing Triton. Until then, Marta and Killian will also help you with this task. Maybe even redeeming themselves, yet."

"I need some time to process this," Ariel huffed, her nose in the air. She slunk back into the water, her tail flipping with a splash.

"Make up your mind quick; you act as if I have all day to play royal mediator. I damn well better be freed of my curse after this!" Ursula yelled after her.

Killian watched Emma slip on a cuff, her body partially turning to jade, silver and gold, a tail flipping below the surface almost silently. The caves dripped, and he was left to watch her leave again while Marta discussed how they would go about bringing sunken shipwrecks into the cave. Watching the water for any sign of the princess, he tried to formulate some way to get the shard.

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Emma felt like she had been slapped hard across her face, head still reeling from seeing Killian again. He had followed her, the audacity of that bastard to have found her, to try and speak with her -

She let out another shriek into the empty water of the kelp forest, letting herself float down to the sandy bottom. Looking up, she couldn't see the surface, only the brackish depths and swaying strings of long underwater vines. Her chest ached, and she took a deep breath of the salty water, relishing the coldness of it. He had looked so disheveled, had looked at her like he was seeing a phantom too, but for an entirely different reason -

She had changed. She wasn't the princess he knew any longer, but the beginning of something completely different - more resilient, more in control, more cold and world weary, more cautious. Killian did not know her any longer. Alice and Robyn had bolstered her, emboldened her to be stronger than ever. Emma had learned to, as Alice put it, give no fucks . Watching Ariel and her antics just proved that. Ariel’s complaints about their hosts’ simplicity set Emma's teeth on edge, and that was only one of the more banal issues Emma took to heart. Ariel could be shallow, brash, impulsive, and petulant in ways Emma had never dreamed of being.

Whereas Emma's parents had raised her to work hard, to be studious, well rounded, and perfect in matters of decorum, Ariel was the youngest of seven sisters. She was a gifted musician, but skipped classes, caused mischief, disrupted others, created mayhem with her magic, refused to listen to her father's reasoning, and found no joy in any of the harder aspects of ruling a kingdom. The woman all but balked at hard work, expecting to be waited on. She seemed more content to have Emma as a source of gossip than as an ally. It was clear that Ursula was frustrated with Ariel as well, even if they were both frightened for Triton.

Ursula's idea of using the old Fae armada that currently lay in half-restored pieces near her kingdom was ingenious, as far as Emma could tell. Eric, Ariel's beau, was happily providing more ships that people were scrapping in his shipyard for the cause, and Ariel's talent of making portals through the water was working exceptionally well when they were done piecing together new parts and old like a jigsaw to make something new. Ursula had amassed three ships already that floated in a cave, waiting to be boarded. The Sea Witch had confided her hopes in Emma early on, realizing her competency.

"If this all goes right, if we free Triton and he knows that I helped, I hope he will return me to my original form so I can beseech Queen Snow to appeal Merlin's curse. It has been too long since I have hoped for any sort of redemption, but your arrival heralds in the beginning of a new era for the forgotten that lay here in wait."

"I can't say my mother will be able to give you an audience, Ursula, but I pray to the goddess that she does."

"Thank you, Princess Emma, you are too kind."

"I am nothing but a weary bearer of hindsight."

Ariel swam by, sighing in a whine.

"So. What do you think of this project Ursula has me on? I can't believe I have to work with that… that Thing , and then that Selkie who believes she can chastise me - "

"Both parts of that are worrisome but for different reasons," Emma said with her own tired sigh and a shrug that rustled the grit she lay on. "Very different reasons, actually - I am worried about you and Kil - the Dark One working together, because he's… He isn't a good person. But I'm more worried for this Marta woman, to be honest."

Ariel scoffed. "You have to be the most bleeding heart royal I've ever met to believe her Selkie sob story. I'm surprised she's not wearing a crocodile skin with the tears she was faking over Daddy. My father would never sink as low as to encourage a Selkie’s attention, let alone dally with one." Ariel floated down to lay beside Emma, and Emma moved slightly so she could rest on her side, observing Ariel critically.

"She was telling the truth, Ariel." Emma stated firmly, tail betraying her agitation with its quick flicks in the sand. "She seems like a very nice woman, and she would have to be to not get chewed up and spat out by the Darkness that permeates his presence."

"But Emma, didn't he - didn't you say that you remembered - " Ariel began, and Emma held up a hand with irritation written in her scowl.

"Yes, I might have remembered that I was stupid when I was drunk, and he got us home. A lot happened after that, so that kiss was inconsequential, and a symptom of the chaos that was our narrow survival. After that, when Elsa… He showed his true colors."

"Yeah. I wish that you had someone fighting for you like I do with Eric. I can't wait to give him that cuff back, I miss him," Ariel said dreamily, dismissing the seriousness of the conversation again. "Your talk of kissing reminded me."

Emma smiled a strained but polite grimace. Squaring her shoulders, she rose up slightly to cross her arms and change her stature to reflect her annoyance. With a hand on her hip and the other extended to gesture, she spoke.

"It's up to you, regardless, Ariel, but I will say that regardless of what you think of Marta or customs outside your own, I do not find your views befitting anyone I would have in my close confidence. You should lead by example and make your own choices from your own experiences. Talk to Marta."

Ariel stuck up her nose, sitting up with arms crossed against her chest. "By that logic, I should give the Dark One a chance as well!" she yelled as Emma turned to leave her alone to stew.

She shrugged before disappearing into the kelp, looking at Ariel with pity. "I did, and look how that turned out."

It wasn't a far swim back to the secret entrance to Ursula's lair, and then into the Selkie caves. The three main chambers were connected by tunnels that spread out to thousands of honeycomb style chambers, some with water flowing through them in little creeks that babbled musically into waterfalls that fell into the bottom pool. Ursula protected the first chamber, her fleet in a cave off of that and her cauldron near the center. The bottom was almost completely submerged with a proliferation of crystals and slabs of limestone, while a current swept along the floor that could take even an experienced diver by surprise. You could enter through that opening, but to leave the same way would cut you to ribbons, and Ursula guarded the other exit that lay at the edge near the other chambers, her own among them. The middle chamber was filled with rock platforms where trees and ferns took root in small gardens and a small waterfall fed a pond covered in lotus blooms. The greenery seemed to attract the nymphs, who giggled profusely at Emma walking past with no tail or pearl bead littered hair.

The last chamber was for socializing, dotted with tables and balconies. Different flags and banners waved in beautiful fabrics. Crystals and moss grew that lit up in the evening darkness, and changed the water color to a startling bright blue. A volcanic spring heated pools on the far side for cooking and cleaning, while the cooler pools allowed for bathing and relaxation.

Emma's room was in one of the higher areas, a small cave with a ledge for a pallet and her things. A few steps cut into the rock led down to a brook that carved its path past a slight bend and into the chamber she had met with Ursula in. A curtain covered the archway that led to where the brook turned, allowing for privacy even at this height.

A clothesline was also provided, and Emma had used it with gusto when she first arrived. It was when she discovered that both her white gown from the failed appeal so long ago and her blue dress were covered in blood: Goblin, her own, and Elsa's… Emma was thankful that the caves were set up so that very few heard her screams when the panic sporadically struck, when all she could do was hold the fabric and weep as that night played over and over in her head.

Occasionally she found sleep, but it was hard to get real rest. Since the attack, when she dreamed, visions of Nil all but ruined those completely. She had to stay strong and focused, but everything felt wrong. Even her movements felt delayed, but pride would not allow her to go to Ursula or Ariel with her complaints.

Her mind fell back to Killian, and Ursula's decision for him to stay. There was no doubt that they might run into each other, but as long as she was under Ursula's protection and good graces, it was not as if she could leave the waters. He was probably already trying to locate where she was staying in the cave system. He was an even match to her stubbornness, to her great consternation. She considered having Ursula just put him out anyway, knowing the Sea Witch would do so without a thought beyond how much of a 'poor unfortunate soul' he would be on his own; however, it left her with a mouth full of ash. She would prove to be not much more than a damsel if she could not dismiss him without a mediator.

That was one of the worst things: it felt as if she was ripping old skin away from new whenever she wanted to remember the good, and not what he was, what he did, what he said. There was no good. She had imagined it when she was drunk, high on adrenaline, confused, and exhilarated just to be alive - imagined how he felt against her like some idiot debutante that he had fled from. That in and of itself should have been enough, but he had lied about it, so blatantly even; the way he had looked at her as he acted playful in those moments before she had failed Elsa was different than before.

That was the only regret she held, and the only unspoken matter left between the two of them that Emma was willing to issue amends for. It was her fault Elsa was dead, the guilt squarely on her shoulders no matter how she dissected those moments in her mind. Every argument that could be made started with the catalyst of her arrival, and ended with her failure to dispatch the Goblin or heal Elsa. Even though the blade had clearly hit Elsa’s lung and part of her heart, Emma couldn't understand why she froze, why she didn't try to heal her friend regardless, why she didn't exhaust herself in every attempt. It haunted her; between nightmares of Nil, panic attacks, and her lack of sleep, she wondered how anyone managed to survive.

And while every part of her screamed to make amends like the diplomatic daughter of royalty she was, what good would it do for anyone? Emma curled further into herself, wishing she didn't feel all at once surrounded, smothered even, but still so alone.

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The morning of their mission to procure the rest of Ursula's armada was bright and serene. Marta was excited and anxious to spend time with Ariel and her human paramour. Killian focused his attention on simply hammering out the work and implementing a plan of action that would allow him to at least get Ariel to speak to Emma, potentially softening her to the idea of speaking with him. The sea princess was unlike Emma in many ways, and prone to falling for the pitfalls he set, or simply biting onto bait he placed to fish for more info. That was, until Emma herself joined their merry mission.

If he had thought she looked tired from afar, up close she was clearly exhausted, barely functioning as she lazily swam with Ariel, who whispered to her in a concerned manner. Killian heard snippets of their conversation, the Darkness gleefully taking in the scent of Emma's weakness.

If an accident were to happen where we could get the shard, no one would be any the wiser. Especially with how close the princess will be to a portal leading to waters outside Ursula's domain.

A pleasurable current ran up his spine, the Darkness growing more fond of his eel form every time he donned it. Killian had caught Emma staring; and even in her practically asleep state, fascination was obvious on her face as she watched his tail cut through the water or curl in fluid motions.

Not fascination, in disgust and horror. Don't think that she is not still scared of you just because she managed to raise her voice a few decibels. Focus.

Ariel opened a portal easily, swimming in quick circles with a swirl of magic that opened to the true ocean. The water was dark, much colder, and much more unruly. Killian and Marta struggled through the opening, Ariel following behind as Emma gave a wan wave while holding it steady with her own magic.

Only a few yards in, he glanced back and the small portal was barely a glow through the choppy waves. They were going to bring a boat through this?

"I know that this looks crazy, but Eric's up top on the skipper and he'll help with the extraction. We just have to attach the chains to the hull, and pull it through."

Killian looked up; he could barely make out the shape of a large boat floating above, the rusted chains slowly grazing the sea floor and sending up clouds of murky silt.

They pulled the chains over the hull of the first barely held together ship, its wrecked carcass shuddering through the portal with a groan. Emma looked pale from using her magic to widen the portal, but ushered them through easily.

The next ship was buried in a deep quagmire of sand which required Ariel and Marta both to help him, along with a few other Selkie, Nymph and Naiads. Sandy clouds billowed in thick columns from where they dug, rising and falling thick enough to make them cough. They worked for what felt like hours, scooping sand, pulling, and digging out the sediment that resettled, only to repeat again and again. The water grew progressively more rough, waves rattling and jerking the chains, causing more sand to shift. Thunder cracked from above and a green bolt of lightning illuminated the water so brightly that the seafloor looked bathed in other worldly emerald sunshine. Green coated where the bolt hit, leaving a shiny residue that seemed to boil the water before fading.

The party scattered, fleeing towards the portal desperately at the sign of magic while Ariel raced upwards towards her human lover without any worry for her own safety.

"Ariel! Look out, stop!" Marta darted after her as sea animals in groups of unnatural and dissimilar species swam towards them from the surface of the water. Killian shot upwards, shocking with electricity several seals that circled the women while pulling another's jaws away from Marta's shoulder. Red began to rise from the wound, Marta's cry of pain barely audible over the roar of the surf while the pummeling current briefly dazed him. Ariel was tearing gulls away from her as she tried to breach the surface, a great cracking noise and thunder rattling his teeth as he fought off another onslaught of seals.

"I thought seals liked and listened to Selkies?" he managed to yell, Marta throwing jets of scalding water at schools of what looked like jellyfish.

"These sea creatures are poisoned or bewitched. Jellyfish usually just float - they don't hunt like this, and we do have kinship to seals - Ariel, oh Atlantis, watch out!" Marta abandoned her attempts as she pushed Ariel aside. A piece of heavy debris hit her as the ship above gave a giant metal groan. Ariel didn't even look back as she grabbed at a piece of debris, pulling out a human man who was clearly unconscious.

"Move, we have to get him through the portal, and back to the air!" Ariel shrieked, and Killian crested the surface to look above, even as waves and birds battered him. A tall, wide, patchwork metal ship glowed green in the circle of a storm, speeding towards them. Goblins . Grabbing a floating glass jar, he dove below, opening the sealed container upside down and handing it to Ariel.

"Go! Get him through the portal!" Killian shouted at Ariel, and she was gone in a flash.

The water was lit again by the ghastly green lightning, and Killian searched for Marta desperately before the light gave way to murk again. She was pinned between a large metal piece, weakly fighting off fish, and he dug to free her as she whimpered. Pulling her to him, she went limp, and he sped towards the portal. Ariel was in front of him, pulling on the chains that had fallen, her brow strained as she pulled the ship they had been working on through so they could slip past. He could hear Emma’s cries from the other side of the portal ringing out as he helped push the ship through, her calling for Ariel and Marta.

Ariel pushed Eric through the minute there was a big enough gap, straight into Emma’s arms, screaming at her to get him to air. Emma was gone in an instant as the mermaid swam in circles to keep the portal open, the ship inching along as Killian handed a Siren Marta's unconscious body through the widening gap. Ariel yelled at him, roughly elbowing him as a shark barreled towards them, its dead eyes glowing green and jaw wide with sharp teeth. Killian hit it hard with an electric charge, stunning himself with the force of the current. In the moment of dazed consciousness that came after, he heard Ariel shriek, the shark too incensed to be affected by the shock as it bit down on her tail. Killian punched it hard in the nose, willing the portal to hold, to stay open as her circles stopped. The realization dawned on him of what he'd have to do, and he braced himself.

Don't you fucking dare you -

Before the Darkness could seize up his muscles, he shoved Ariel roughly through the portal against the ship's backside, watching her wide eyed stare as it blinked into nothingness before him. The shark circled back, along with more seals, more fish, and a swarm of jellyfish. Fighting what he could, he was shocked to feel a warm hand yanking him backwards, the portal going closed in front of his eyes as he was dragged through.

He turned to see Emma, who let go of him as if she'd been burned. Red hung in the clear waters, her face pale and cast in a greenish tone. Emma panted, her eyes closed as she let her chest heave.

"Emma, are you al-"

Emma shot away from him, fleeing through the gathering crowd. The injured were being pulled back into the cove and into the caves where they presumably could be treated.

The princess is weak, now is your chance, we can break her -

He swam into the caves, only to be greeted to the sight of Marta being bandaged in fish scales, gauze, and kelp. Robes lay in piles by the upward slope, and he wrapped one around himself as he willed the magic controlling his eel form away to transform back. There was no sign of Emma, although Ursula was moving all her tentacles at once, handing out towels, gauze, fish skin bandages, poultices, potions, salves, and lotions. Ariel sat near Marta, still with a tail, cupping her humans face as he worried about the bite on her thigh and applied pressure with a cloth. The sounds of moaning and whimpering filled the cave coming from all over and echoed through the halls. The Darkness purred at the sound and his stomach turned over in disgust.

"Killian, oh Goddess' I thought -" Marta started, as she began to tear up, before suddenly wrapping him in a tight hug. He froze, awkwardly trying to pull away as she cried. "You saved us, you saved Ariel and Eric, and we left you -"

"If there's one thing I am good at, it is surviving." Freeing himself from her hold, he kicked a rock with his bare foot, and muttered under his breath, "I always survive."

Ariel looked up at him with a strange look of appraisal. "I owe you - we owe you our lives. Eric wouldn't have made it without that air, and you pushed me through while that shark -"

"Yes, I was there. I don't need to relive the buggering memory." He gritted out. "I need -"

"Name it, and I'll make it happen if I can," Ariel said, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position.

"Where's Emma?"

Ariel winced again, this time from his question. "Except for that. Leave her alone, she's - "

"Help me get back into her graces. That's my request for the debt you owe me for saving you." Killian crossed his arms, watching the flustered mermaid princess weigh her options. Pointing to her grim-faced mortal paramour, he offered his good hand. "For saving both of you. Shake on it."

"Emma does not want to see you, she's made that clear even to me," Eric began, and Killian glared at him with a crazed half smile.

"I wasn't aware that I asked you, mortal. If you're speaking for your woman, you may want to first discuss her opinions about you being an inferior species to her. In many of our views, a pet or play thing." Ariel looked horrified as the man looked at her with hurt.

"Ariel, what does he mean?" Eric asked, and Killian chuckled softly.

"Should I elucidate on who exactly deserves rights in your opinion, darling?" Killian smirked, and Ariel glared at him.

"She's in the upper east part of the caves. Follow the green turtle carvings. Please just let her be."

"Killian -" Marta began, but he shook a finger. The Darkness rose proudly in his chest.

"Oh no no no no, I'll do without the suggestions. You three owe me a debt, which I fully intend to collect. I'll expect your cooperation from now on, as I could have easily let all of you be chum. Start thinking of ideas to get Emma to trust me again while I do some work of my own."

"You're a bastard," Marta spat.

Killian laughed, turning on his heels as he magicked his clothing back on. Shooting her a cocky wink, he called over his shoulder, "And don't you forget it, love."

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Emma was sure she was breaking, her body too hot and breathing ragged as if she had eaten glass. The red in the water, the cries of pain, the portal closing around Ariel as Killian’s hands disappeared back into the dirty dark water as a shark flashed by… The stab of panic and despair made her swallow bile. She could not lose another, not another, not even if she hated him -

Opening the portal she grabbed blindly, gripping his shoulder, the feeling of a harsh electrical charge making her fingers numb. She curled them through it, wrenching him back as the shark shot towards them, dead eyes and teeth all she could see as the portal closed.

She let go of him as soon as possible, clutching her hand as it regained feeling. The world was spinning, the single minded focus of saving him giving way to realization of what she had done, to the sounds, the taste and smell of the blood in the water in her mouth. Nausea hit her roughly, a metal ball churning in her stomach, forcing her to close her eyes and steady her breathing. There was so much red, too much red -

"Emma, are you al-"

Her body reacted for her, choosing flight instead of fight. Pushing past the onslaught of Fae that were swimming out of the cave towards the sounds, Emma ripped off her cuff and threw on a robe as she ran. Twisting through tunnels and chambers, she found a path that led downwards, stumbling onto the beach's multicolored sand. Light flooded from a hole high above, tinting the still waters with the different colors of crystals that lay at the bottom.

Falling to her knees, Emma let out the first sob, digging her hands in the sand as it echoed around her.

Sbe hated this. It was weakness, her emotions in the way of her duties. She should be healing, should be composed - she needed to prove that she was no damsel in need of rescue. This wasn't resilience, this wasn't control, and this was nowhere near strength. She was failing, failing in every aspect of her change for the better. How could she ever prove to be a leader like this? Another cry shook her, her hands shaking even as she dug them further into the shore. Why? Why couldn't she control this, push it away, push it down and lay a smile over it?

Emma thought of her mom, the tired smile she gave that her eyes did not reflect. Emma had only seen her give it when she was upset or something was amiss, and she wondered if it was the same smile she gave delivering news about deaths in the same bloody water, the same red-tinged depths.

Her stomach heaved, the taste of copper on her tongue making her retch. There was nothing in her stomach apart from a few mint leaves she had chewed, her appetite far diminished, but her body tried to push anything out of her throat. Footsteps from the corridor surprised her, and she dreaded being found, curling herself into a ball. There was no one she wanted to see her like this, her old flaws laid out like a spill of ink into clear water. Peeking out as the footsteps stopped, she saw black boots against the rock hewn floor, just before the sand. There was quiet for a moment and she shut her eyes tight. Not him. Anyone else but him.

Footsteps started away from her and her stomach violently lurched with panic, even as she was glad her hands were buried so she could not reach for him. Flashes of Elsa's hand going limp mad her lungs tighten, images coming unbidden, fast and without stop. Her body and mind weren't her own anymore, these reactions getting worse, like a flood that could not be contained. Her heart beat out of her chest, and she flopped on her back shivering. This was a terrible way to suffer. Her father's bleeding skull in her mother's lap was in sudden focus as a sharp whine took over the noise around her.

She couldn't breathe, everything crushing at once, but then she was being sat up by soft hands -

"Emma. Emma it's okay, take a breath for me and focus on my voice."

Emma whined in response, opening her eyes to see a worried Robyn examining her. Alice stood behind her, moving from foot to foot, and wringing her hands.

"She's having a panic attack. He said that she hadn't looked well and fled here," Robyn commented, placing a cool rag on Emma's forehead. Emma sighed in slight relief, still shaking and numb in her fingers, toes, and legs. "Emma, have you eaten much today?"

"Nuffin'." Emma bit out, teeth chattering. Robyn's face fell, her eyebrows knitting together.

Alice knelt by her side, holding her hand. "He said she looked tired, too… Emma, babe, are you not sleeping? Are you not eating?"

Emma looked away, unwilling to meet Alice's eyes with her own. She attempted to curl her body away, but Robyn held her firm.

"You have to take care of yourself, too," Robyn said slowly, wiping at Emma's brow. "You can't keep every emotion inside and bottle everything up. You can't just ignore the pain and hope things get better, you need to talk about it, to take care of yourself and let people know if it's too much - "

"I'm scared to," Emma admitted, crying harder. Alice hugged her tightly, and they sat together as Emma lost herself in her grief. After some time, a strange catharsis set in, and they sat back together in soft conversation.

"Why are you both back? I thought you were going to Merlin to see if my magic could free him?" Emma murmured, her voice hoarse.

"Well…" Alice began, exchanging a glance with Robyn.

"He wasn't there," Robyn said slowly, with a sigh. "The tree stump is, as if it was cut down, but there's no indication of when, or by who, and if they cut it down we have no idea if he's alive or - "

Alice lightly touched Robyn on the shoulder, and she stopped. Emma nodded, chewing her lip hard enough to hurt. Another person her parents had probably destroyed.

"That's not what brought us here, though. Tink and Wendy are looking for more on Merlin, covering leads and rumors, because we - Well, someone needed us here," Alice said, her voice strange.

"Me." Emma sighed, her resignation and frustration flaring.

The two exchanged glances again, Robyn nervously adjusting her glasses while Alice twirled a blonde strand of her wildly curled hair.

"No, actually," Robyn mumbled.

Alice took Emma's hand again, examining her palm with interest. "You know, I can read palms right? Look at that love line, so rocky at first, and there's a little chip out of your li - "

"Who was it then?" Emma asked, making Alice tense.

Robyn looked Emma dead on, her face serious. "What is your relationship with the Dark One?"

#Hallow #Courtorderedcake #CSSNS #CSSNS 2019 #Captain Swan #Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

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powerstrangerdacre · 6 years ago

Text

Stupid, little game

Summary: “Hi, I’m Tom Hiddleston and this is Y/F/N Y/L/N and we’re in the hot seat to answer Ellen’s burning questions.”

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warning: none? a bit of swearing? (like... 2 cursewords)

Word Count: 2700+

Requested: YES! MY FIRST REQUEST! AHH!

AN: Thank you so much @imnotusedtobeingloved for requesting this! I had a blast while writing it!! And thanks to @theoneanna for proof-reading this for me! Love ya! Hope you all like this and thank you so much for reading! Please criticize away! Tell me what I can do to improve my writing skills! Thank you!

She sits in her chair, leg bouncing up and down as she waits for him. Tom’s late, and it only serves to make her nerves even worse.

Sure, no one would think that Y/F/N Y/L/N, an international theatre star, would get nervous because of a stupid interview, but there she was, feeling like a sinner in church, about to enter the confessional. Only, the priest wasn’t even there yet!

She looks at the cameras in front of her, seeing her expression mirrored in the lenses. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line in an attempt to not bite at her nails. She shakes her head, thinking this can’t be worse than any other interview she’d done before, which only pushes more thoughts into her head.

Of course this isn’t the first time she’d done an interview. Of course she shouldn’t be worried about what was about to happen. Only, this wasn’t just any interview. This was her first interview on the Ellen Show. She remembers how she’d dreamt about this when she first started acting, and now here she was, about to reach that point in her career.

The fact that it isn’t the actual live version of the show kind of serves to soothe her worries, but at the same time also gives her more to worry about. A live interview is scripted. She gets to know what the questions will be before she even enters the stage where the interviewer shoots them at her. She has some type of control over the situation.

Ellen’s burning questions is everything but that. Unscripted, unedited, uncensored, unnerving. So, even if it is just a YouTube special, it definitely gets her blood boiling.

The door opened, and in he walked, 15 minutes late. If she thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he had an interview right before this. Maybe traffic was being a bitch and he couldn’t make it in time no matter how hard he tried. But Y/N would not have it. Already nervous and sweating, she shook her head at her co-worker and rolled her eyes as he made his way over to his seat, saying sorry to everyone but her. God, she hated Tom.

When she first heard that she would be working with him on the new Loki series, she was ecstatic. She had dreamt about working with Marvel and this was the epitome of awesome, since she had heard about how great of an actor Tom was and she idolized the guy. But, as most of these type of encounters go, she was left disappointed.

The first time she met him was on the day where they had their chemistry read. Hellos were exchanged before they both sat down at a table with the producers and writers and casting directors for the series. It was nerve-wracking. She had never acted in anything but a theatre play before, and she knew this would be way more demanding.

So, she sat down, looked at Tom who seemed more indifferent than anyone she had ever seen in her life. He didn’t even spare her a second glance, let alone bother getting to know her.

But, she read her lines, he read his, they clicked while in character, the filming started the very next week, and now here they were promoting a series which had both their names distinguishably written in its trailer. Tom Hiddleston as Loki, the god of mischief and lies, and Y/F/N Y/L/N as Eir, a goddess and Valkyrie, who somehow managed to sneak her way into the prince’s heart.

Y/N watches as Tom takes his seat, his eyes shifting between her and the cameraman. He gives the cameraman a nod and they start rolling. She is left gob-smacked at how easily he commands the room, even without a word.

God, she hates Tom. She hates stupid, tall, handsome, British Tom. And more than anything, she hates that she can’t hate him, no matter how much of an ass he is.

“Hi, I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he says, making her turn to him, expression shocked as ever.

“And I’m Tom Hiddleston,” she says, taking the lead from him. If he was playing a game, she would definitely show him how to change the rules. “And we’re in the hot seat to answer Ellen’s burning questions.” She smiles at the camera, waiting for Tom to ask the first question as it appears on the teleprompter.

“What is the most rebellious thing you did as a teenager?” Tom asks. He looks to Y/N, the smirk on his lips a dare to her.

“I took my dad’s credit card and bought myself school supplies,” she answers easily, pressing the red button in front of her.

Tom shakes his head, the smirk on his lips never failing. “Really?” he asks.

“What?” She turns to him, only to catch him rolling his eyes. “I was a good kid, okay?” she laughs. This was the part she knew she had to play. It needed to look like they were the best of friends, otherwise some gossip show would definitely milk this for all it’s worth. “What about you, mister ‘vanilla’?”

His tongue pokes out of his mouth, going over his bottom lip as he thinks about his answer. She can’t help but stare as he takes his hand and rubs at his beard. Her heart is definitely pumping more blood than it should be. “You’re not supposed to think, just say the first thing that comes to mind,” she says, making him shake his head.

“I went skinny dipping.” He pressed the red button, changing the question on the screen.

Y/N was sure she was as red as the buttons in front of them, the image of a young, wet, naked Tom running through her head. “You’ve gotta read the next question, love,” he says, a chuckle punctuating his sentence.

“What do you wear to bed at night?” she asks, shaking her head as her palm finds her face. This would be the death of her.

“Well, if you must know. I sleep naked,” he says. “What about you, Y/N?” And there is his tongue again, out to play.

“I wear pajamas, like a normal person.” She presses the button, laughing, prompting Tom to do the same and the question changes once again.

“What is your favorite curse word?” Tom reads, leaning back into his seat, seemingly more relaxed.

“Easy, fuck me.” Y/N presses her button, turning to Tom, whose left eyebrow is raised in question. “I like to keep it all directed towards me, y’know. They say you get what you give, so I’d rather not put that energy out into the universe.” Y/N laughs, waiting for Tom to answer.

“Mine’s shit or cunt. It depends on the day.” He says, pressing the button.

The question changes and this time Y/N’s eyes widen. “What body part of your co-star do you like the most?” she reads.

“Hmm… well… this isn’t degrading at all. I’m not just a piece of meat, you know?” Tom says. He turns to look at Y/N, who’s chewing on her lip. Oh, this was something he wasn’t expecting. “I think… Your smile. I definitely like your smile.”

Tom watched as pink dusted her cheeks, her lips pulling into a tinier version of said smile.

“I like Tom’s work ethic,” she answers, pressing the button in front of her, getting ready to read the question.

Tom stops her. “Wait, wait. It says ‘body part’, I don’t think my work ethic is exactly a body part, love.” Tom smirks.

Y/N shakes her head. This was the most conversation he had ever held with her and he’s trying to make her divulge something she’s not comfortable with. “Sorry to disappoint you Tommy, but you’re a workaholic. Work ethic is etched on your face every single day.” She smirks as his expression falls. “But, if you must know, I like your eyes.”

Tom’s lips pull into a smirk, his eyes never leaving her. “Why?”

She interrupts Tom’s prying with another question. “Who was your first celebrity crush?” Y/N asks, turning to Tom who seems to be overthinking the question by the way his eyebrows are lifted.

“I think… Jennifer Love Hewitt.” Tom presses his button.

“Easy, Sean Connery,” Y/N says, quickly pressing the button.

Tom looks to her, seeing the way she gets giddier and giddier as the questions come and go. “Sean Connery?” he asks her.

Y/N trails her gaze from the teleprompter to Tom, her Y/E/C eyes meeting his. “Yes? Got a problem with that, Hiddleston?”

Tom shakes his head, chuckling, the very sound making Y/N shiver in delight. “No, love. I’d just never taken you for a girl that likes older guys. He was like what… 60 when you were born?”

“I like watching old movies. When I first saw him he was 30, that is, on the screen.” Y/N shrugged and giggled. She looked back to the teleprompter, missing the hopeful look in Tom’s eyes.

“What is the one thing you love in a man?” Tom asks, laughing at the way the question was formulated. “Well, let’s see. I like someone who is strong, who takes care of his body, has lots of money…” Tom counted on his fingers, making Y/N laugh. God, her laughter was definitely one thing he loved about her. He didn’t know why, but he just did. Maybe it was the way she could never fake her real laugh, no matter how good of an actress she was. She couldn’t mimic the way her eyes laughed as her lips pushed at her cheeks. She couldn’t mimic that melodious sound that just had him trapped, wanting to laugh along with her. It was simply and utterly entrancing and contagious.

The first time he met her, he didn’t know what to think. He watched her walking through the doors, her steps careful and calculated, but her smile more genuine than any he had ever seen. One look at her and he was definitely interested. Interested in finding out more about the girl who was so confident and at the same time, so bashful. He checked himself before he could do something stupid, since he didn’t know if he would even get the chance to know her better.

The second he heard she had been chosen as Loki’s love interest, he was over the moon. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he could get her to agree to go on a date with him. To talk about their interests and get to know each-other outside the workplace.

That dream was shattered as soon as he had learned that she was maybe just a bit too young for him. With nine years difference between them, he couldn’t imagine how she would ever say yes to him when she most definitely had better options out there. So, he ripped the band aid before he got himself hurt, and decided that it would be better if he didn’t get too close.

But now, after he had gotten a bit of insider info, he thought that maybe he had been a bit too harsh in his “not getting too close”. He had utterly avoided her, going as far as to not say hello. And even though his anxiety played part in that, he still felt awful. He had definitely been a dick.

“Tom?” Her voice snapped him out of his trance, his eyes finally focusing on the question.

“So, what about you, love? What do you like in a man?” Tom asked again.

Y/N looks to Tom, who’s obviously more interested in her answer than he should be. Her best guess: He’s messing with her. He figured out she likes him and he’s messing with her. “Well, I like someone who’s true to his feelings,” she says, staring him right in the eye. She presses the button, startling Tom as he shamefully lets his eyes fall to his own button.

“And that… was it! You guys better watch…”

“Actually, we have one more question,” Tom interrupts as Y/N’s eyes narrow.

“No we…”

“Yes, we do. I’m going to lay all my cards out on the table and say that I’d really like to take you out on a date.” Tom’s eyes don’t leave Y/N as the camera keeps rolling. He doesn’t care that the whole world will know about this. He doesn’t care, because he knows that whatever will happen after this, the world will have no say in. “So, last question: Will you go on a date with me?”

Y/N’s eyes staring deeply into his, searching for something that might tell her that he’s just playing. That this was just some type of publicity stunt to make the series more popular. But all that she could see was, honesty. Honesty and hope.

“O…kay?”

A smile pulled at Tom’s lips as he turned back to the camera. “Well, there you have it folks. This has been burning questions. Please go watch the new Loki series. Lots of mischievous love from us to you.”

The camera stopped rolling. Y/N and Tom stood up from their seats, turning to each-other. They could feel the eyes of those in the room focused on them, waiting to see what would happen.

“We should… probably talk more in private…” Y/N says, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Yeah, we should.” Tom couldn’t believe his luck. Even though it might’ve been for the camera and for the sake of dodging a scandal, she had still said yes. And he would most likely make the best out of it.

“So, what’s this about?” Chris asks as his best friend. The screen of his phone shows Tom, who’s obviously still in bed, having just been woken up by Chris’s call.

“Wait a second, mate.”

Chris watches as Tom stands up slowly, quietly walking out of his bedroom and into his living room, closing the door behind him. “What’s what about?” Tom asks.

Chris rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed with Tom’s secret-keeping. The whole world knows and he had to find out through a YouTube video. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Tom. I know you know what I’m talking about. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Tom rubs the sleep from his eyes, making Chris’s eyebrows furrow. He was definitely surprised that Tom was still tired. If he had his math right, it should’ve been one in the afternoon in LA.

“Tell me that you’re dating Y/N!” Chris whisper-yells, not wanting anyone else to hear, just in case he’s wrong.

“Sorry, mate. I honestly thought you knew,” Tom laughed as he heard the door to the bedroom open.

“Hey, Chrisy!” Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s neck, her face appearing on the screen.

“You guys are honestly the worst friends a guy can have! How long?” Chris asks.

“How long what?” Y/N kisses Tom’s cheek as she walks into the kitchen to get started on breakfast.

“Come on! How long have you two been together?!”

Tom looks to the ceiling, honestly amused at how angry his friend seems to be. “A few months?”

“A few MONTHS?!”

Tom chest shakes with laughter. “Yeah… since that Ellen interview? Right, love?”

“Yup!” Y/N says, coming back with two cups of tea in her hands. “Three months.” She sips from her tea, sitting down next to Tom who wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He sits his head on her shoulder, smiling widely at the camera.

“I really hate you guys,” Chris says, though he can’t help but smile at the sight of his two friends, together, sexual tension definitely long gone.

“No, you really love us.” Y/N makes a weird kissy-face towards the camera, making Chris laugh and Tom frown.

“Careful there, love. You’re making your boyfriend jealous.” Chris punctuates his sentence with a chuckle. “But I’m happy for you two. Just… make sure to not send the wedding invitation three months too late, okay?”

Tom and Y/N laugh, saying goodbye to Chris then cuddling on the couch. Enjoying their down-time together.

Tom looks down on his girlfriend of three months, and he can’t believe how lucky he is. He found someone who is so down to earth and so caring, what more could he want?

Y/N looks up to him, only to find him already staring down at her. “What’s on your mind?” she asks.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.” Tom’s lips find her in a slow, lazy kiss. “And thinking that we should probably thank Ellen for her stupid, little game.”

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amnachil · 5 years ago

Text

To the Perfection Chapter 1 Part 6

I’m late and I’m sorry ! But here is part 6. Part 7 will come this weekend as planned (I hope) :x

Thomas Monday January 21

The weekend had been a two-day long disappointment for the teenager. Raphaël's departure this morning was a release. I don't have to see their idyll anymore. It was painful to watch Dan with his brother. To see them laugh, cuddle and kiss together. Thomas was itching to be at Raphaël's place, and it pissed him to be only a spectator. Consequently, this morning, he had felt relieved. But he was also more than embittered. That was probably why he arrived at school annoyed. Of course, he kept his warm smile. He looked happy to everyone, and it was fine this way. But inside, he was seething.

"Hey, look what Jessica texted me yesterday." told him Joël.

The message was a compliment about his great personality. Such a good joke.

"Looks like I earned one point." laughed the cocky lad. "Maybe she has a secret crush on me ?"

"Sure. Keep dreaming man." ironised Thomas.

Joël snorted. Next to them, Ilhan was finishing his history's assignment. He didn't start the second semester pretty well.

"Dudes, I don't know how I will manage science." he complained. "Thomy, could you help me ?"

Hell no. Why me ? Sure, he was the best student of their promotion, but he had others things to do than help this boots-licker.

"Sorry." he smiled. "But I'm busy enough with all the stuff we have to do. Besides, I'm sure you'll manage pretty well."

Ilhan nodded, half convinced. They entered in class, but Cody held the ginger back. He waited a moment, until their friends were far enough. What ? The young millionaire had always been smarter than the others. Two years ago, he had reproached Thomas for being distant and not really involved in their friendship. But my smile convinced him of the contrary, right ?

"Why you didn't tell us your mother has left you to move in England ?" he asked curiously. "We could have support you."

"How do you know that ?"

Thomas realised it was a stupid question. He already knew the answer.

"Raphaël told me." revealed Cody. "He said you were feeling sad, but you wouldn't admit it. Man, Joël and I are your friends since kindergarden. You should have tell us."

He did that on purpose. Maybe the ginger was seing evil all around, but he thought Raphaël wanted to tear Dan and him apart.

"My brother is wrong." he said with a cheerful smile. "I'm perfectly fine. I mean, yeah she left and I've felt lonely, but it's okay now. I reckonned it was useless to alarm you for nothing."

Cody stared at him a moment. You can't read me. Thomas knew he had a warm face and inscrutable eyes.

"If you say so..." finally mumbled Cody.

And they went to class.

When he arrived at home this evening, Thomas shivered. He sensed Raphaël's presence everywhere. Even my so-called friends are his pawns. His brother engulfed his life. It was so infuriating.

"Thomy ? What is going on ?"

He suddenly realised he was showing his feelings, and quickly put up a front. Dan looked at him, perplexed.

"I'm fine." smiled the ginger lad. "I'm going to cook something amazing tonight."

"I thought we could order something." suggested Dan, much to his surprise. "Spend the evening playing videogames together ? I mean, only if you already did your homework ?"

Thomas nodded slowly. It was hard to not rush in his friend's arms and express his feelings. Resist to him is so hard. Not only Dan was cuter each day, but he also seemed more and more attentive. Of course, it was only as a friend, but the teenager didn't see it that way.

Pizza arrived half an hour later. They started a new game Thomas got from his mother. It was kind of fascinating, and time passed rapidly. But the young lad wasn't focused on the screen at all. He was watching Dan as his friend wolfed down the first pizza. And the second. His stomach was getting rounder which each slice. Once he finished, the junior rubbed it, causing a soft blech.

"That was good." he sighed, satisfied.

Then, he went back to the game. I should too. But... I can't let things like this. Seing Dan taut belly turned him on. Since his friend was always shirtless, he could note even the tinier details. His tummy button getting slighly deeper. His bulging lovehandles. Nothing could escape from Thomas's stare. Dan suddenly handed him an orange juice.

"Here." he said. "Fresh and with low-sugar rate, as you like it. We're close to the hardest level, so better be refreshed."

He knows me so well, this is insane. Thomas let his fantasy got the best of him.

"Thanks." he smiled. "I'll go grab some foods we could snack on."

He brought more than enough. The pie leftover, cakes, his secret box of cookies, some donuts from Mrs. Liliano's bakery... But Dan didn't notice it, or he didn't say. He only took a big morsel of pie, and gobbled it.

For two hours, it continued like this. They lost the level several time, because Thomas was way too distracted. His friend's middlesection was growing larger. He was getting very bloated from all the food and the beer he was consuming. The way his belly pushed his sweatpants made the ginger hard as rock. Each burp made him shiver with pleasure. And Dan continued to eat, barely taking the time to rub his overstuffed stomach. Finally, when he finished the pop-corn Thomas just brought, he grunted. He leaned back to find a more comfortable position. His belly gurgled, way too full.

"It's... burp... so hot in here." moaned Dan.

Thomas didn't answer. He was frozen, unable to do anything but stare. Feed someone and see him overfed was already his turn-on. Seing Dan in this state was more than that. His dick was sore. His lust prevented him to think clearly. Only the fear of Dan's reaction stopped him to do the worst mistake of his life. His friend groaned, his two hands rubbing his distended belly.

"No wonder I'm... burp... growing fat." he said. "I can't control myself around food, can I ? Sorry for... burp... that. You shouldn't see me like... that."

"Like the glutton you are ?" asked Thomas before thinking.

Dan looked at him and smiled.

"Yeah, something like that."

The ginger lad hesistated. What the hell am I doing ? He wanted to rub Dan's belly, who was obviously in pain. He wanted to put him at ease. To soflty kiss him. To fuck him. No way. This is a terrible idea. Thomas stood up, hiding his erection as best as he could.

"Imma going to sleep." he declared. "Tonight was awesome Dan, thank you. And don't worry, I don't mind if you indulge a bit. I think it's nice."

And he went to his bedroom in order to masturbate.

Dan Thursday January 24 – Friday January 25

When he entered in the sheriff office, Dan sighed. He adjusted his too-tight belt. I shouldn't wear it anymore, it pinch me. Gregory noticed him and came closer.

"Hi Dan." he greeted. "Here to pick up your criminal sister ?"

It was dark humor. Since she gratuated from highschool, Shirley was often in troubles. Nothing too bad, but she ended up several times at the police station. His brother, maybe because he was naive, maybe because he was too kind, was having her back. He had been lying to their parents all the time for her.

"What did she do this time ?" he asked.

"Well, she entered illegally in a private property. The owner reported her, but he hasn't sued her."

Dan sighed again. Why she turned like this ? During highschool, she had been a top student. Good grades, good in sport, she had had a nice boyfriend. She had even managed to make Raphaël genuinely smile once, which was rarer than snow in summer. Well, she had been in troubles during 11th grade because she was suspected to be homophobic... Since then, she never had made up with their parents. Or him, to be honest. They weren't close at all since she tried to hurt Raphaël. His boyfriend had forgiven her, but Dan had some difficulties to do the same. He only helped because he thought he didn't have a choice.

"The sheriff will be there soon." announced Gregory. "You can wait him here. Donuts ?"

Dan looked at the pastry, but declined politely. He had to save room for Thomas's diner. And he was already gaining weight fast enough. Not even one month, and all his clothes were already snug.

Eventually, Mr. Davos arrived, and after a talk, Dan's sister was free. She looked at him with a smile.

"Sorry big bro." she said. "I promise it'll never happen again."

He wasn't that stupid. It the fourth time in less than a year.

"What were you thinking ?" he asked, irritated. "You know how much troubles you could have been in ?"

She shrugged, detached. She was wearing a dirty speckled pullover, with holed jeans and shoes. She had left their parent's home last july. She had crashed in her boyfriend's home during one month. There, she started to be on a slippery slope. She did pickpocketing, but luckily the victim didn't press charge against her. Then, she tried to resell drugs from the local dealer. Without any real evidence, the sheriff had to let her go. Eventually, around november, Sam had dumped her, and Dan couldn't honestly reproach him for that. She had been a real pain for him, always demanding more and more. I don't know why she became like this. I don't know how to help.

"Shirley, where are you living now ?" he wondered. "And how are you eating ? You should go back home, or come live with me in the worst case."

"No way." she answered. "I'm free, totally free. I'm not going to see mom or dad ever again. And I don't want to live with you."

She looked at him, mocking.

"I wouldn't be able to hold myself... You're so hot."

"That's gross." he mumbled. "Just... Don't do anything stupid again please."

He felt powerless. What can I do ? Maybe he should let the sheriff lock her up. Maybe he should talk with his parents ? He was so hesitant that in the end, he did nothing. He let her go on her own. I'm not the brother of the year...

On the next day morning, Dan was cosily munching cookies when he got a call from Mrs. Muller. She told him the school had contacted her about Thomas, because he and his friends caused a little blast during science lesson, apparently on purpose. What does that mean ? He would never do that. Anyway, he got suspended, which worried his mother. Dan took the time to reassure her. When he hung up, he was very concerned. Thomas's friends probably had done a mistake, and they were all grounded. But still, it wasn't the ginger's type to get suspended. Wait, science class... Does that mean it's Darren who punished them ? Well, Dan's bestfriend was new in town, he probably wasn't affected by Thomas's natural charm. So this explained that. Dan decided to text him, but Raphaël suddenly called.

"This is improper." he said straight. "We can't tolerate this."

I guess he's talking about Thomas... His apathetic tone warned Dan. He was angry.

"I asked you to be nice with him, and this is how he behaves ?" continued Raphaël. "There are limits he can't cross."

The junior didn't answer yet. He knew how to act when his boyfriend was annoyed.

"There's no way I could let such a bad behaviour unpunished. I understand he's sad and he feels abandonned, but this is no excuse to be suspended from science class. I'll call him straight this evening."

"Honey, can you let me handle this ?" suggested Dan.

It was the good moment to step in.

"I'll talk to him, and we'll see what happened. You know it is possible he did nothing wrong. Maybe he just helped his friends ?"

A cold blank followed. Nice, he's thinking. He's always overreacting when it comes to his little brother.

"Fine." eventually agreed Raphaël. "But make sure he perfectly understands. I don't want mom to tell me things like that ever again."

"Sure thing love. Just... try to calm down, there is nothing to be worried about. I got this."

Now I can relate to Mrs. Muller. It must have been very difficult to raise these two boys. Raphaël was already quite a phenomenon. But Thomas had his own difficult character. Dan knew it as soon as he arrived at home this evening.

"Are you gonna lecture me ? Because my teacher already did." he said as an introduction.

The young teenager was smiling. His most genuine, most cheerful smile. I see right through this mask.

"It depend." he answered prudently. "What did you do exactly ?"

"Nothing. Ilhan got the formula wrong and he made a blast. I laughed. Our teacher thought we did it on purpose... I don't like him."

Oh good. So... I guess I'll make the presentations later...

"Look, I'm not your father, and I trust you." Dan stated. "Just be careful next time okay ? We don't want your mother to come back here only to yell at you, right ?"

Thomas lowered his eyes, seemingly ashamed.

"Yes." he said. "Sorry Dan. I didn't intend to put you in trouble."

"No problem buddy."

"To make it up to you, let me cook an amazing diner." suggested the teenager.

And that was how the junior knew he was gonna end the day completely full.

To be continued

Shirley was the main character in the High School Game. She’s a strong and indepedent young women, but who as a tendancy to find troubles. She doesn’t has a major impact in this story, but she’ll be there.

Also, The College Society is coming back next week with chapter 3 !

#to the perfection #TP #Thomas #Dan #stuffing #weight gain #Dan loves food a lot #Dan's a glutton #Raphaël #chapter 1 #part 6

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angrypixie-sarisa · 5 years ago

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The tapestry

Piedras Rodantes Pt.7

Okay, so, I wanted to write another fanfic and since nobody pays attention to me on tumblr, the situation it’s just perfect, It’s a Supernatural fic. Now here’s the deal. It’s a polyamorous situation. I know, shush.

Sam x Mexican!Fem!Witch!reader x Dean

Warnings: Throughout the fic there are gonna be lines in Spanish. Nothing to fancy for google traductor, i hope. “Suggestions” of spanish songs i love. Swearing in both spanish and english. And the usual, mentions of blood, violence, smut and other varieties. It’s supernatural, really we don’t expect something else. Spoilers?(if you haven’t watch spn of course, or if you are just getting started with it) Also, SLOWBURN. Also, some chapters are short, some are long, depends on my mood.

Descriptionof the whole fic in general: So, remember when Sam took a break of hunting because he thought he was a danger for everyone? Season 5, i think? That’s where the fic starts. Reader and Sam met at the bar where he worked at, developed a friendship and a crush on one and the other. Then Sam has to leave because of all the shit that goes down throghout the season and the horseman and the fight between the archangels. But promises the reader that somehow, he’ll come back. Then, he goes to hell. That’s when reader meets Dean. And yeah, things aren’t as smooth with them in the begining. Reader befriends Lisa and Ben first, which raises Dean’s suspicions. He just wants to keep them save and all. After some stuff they become friends and the Sam comes back. So yeah…

What to do when feeling down

Things to do to cheer up

How to deal with a bad day

Good movies

Why?????????????

That was what your google research looked like. It had only been two days and you were nowhere near to carry on with your day. This usually didn’t happen to you. Normally you would see the signs and you’d end things before it got worse. But something about Sam just told you to keep going and you never feared where things were headed until it dawn to you. Well, shit. I’m a witch and he’s hunter. What could possibly go wrong? It’s not like you were in a coven or something like that. You weren’t satanic. You never even listened to the taunts of demons. You weren’t even sure if you were a witch. You only were certain that normal you were not. You had powers and gifts and your intuition was better than the others. Yet, these things had always been a part of you. And you knew your family well; they would’ve never dare to give in to the bullshit pact of a demon. Please, your mom would’ve even scolded the demon or threatened it with the, oh, so powerful chancla. Your dad didn’t believe in these things and your grandma always carried her Rosario with her.

Throughout the years, witch always felt the right word to describe you. Nobody had a bad reaction to it in México, so why was it that in the US everyone was ready to burn you alive?

You sighed and shrugged. There was only one thing you hadn’t tried yet. Well, two. And those were getting chocolate ice cream and painting.

Yes, you liked to paint and draw. You liked art in all its glorified representations and interpretations. You took out your supplies, a big white sheet you always intended on converting it in something else, all kinds of color acrylic paintings, a spoon and the ice cream. Brushes? What were those? You needn’t such things when you had fingers, the best brushes of the world.

You looked at your tin can filled with old and new brushes of all kinds. You stared and stared, as if the can itself had eyes and it was contesting against you.

“Fine, I’m sorry. I do love you guys, I just want to paint with my fingers today.” And it seemed that they understood. They always did.

It did the trick, you blasted some music, ate ice cream from the container (staining the spoon just a smidge) and painted the sheet. You had not and specific image. You just ran your fingers through it with blue and then orange and then pink and then green; making a whole beautiful mess of it.

You were almost finished with it when a loud banging at the door disturbed you from your artsy mood.

“Hijo de su pinche madre. ¿Quién toca tan pinche feo?” You whispered out loud. You got up from the floor, pausing the music, and cautiously approached your front door. You looked through the window and saw a far too familiar tall figure standing in front of your door. His eyes caught you staring and he sheepishly waved his hand hi. You rolled your eyes.

As you opened your door, you leant on the door frame, not inviting him to come inside and not telling him to go away either.

“You owe my door an apology.” Sam knitted his eyebrows together and scoffed a laugh.

You raised your eyebrows and your chin. You pursed your lips and stared him down.

“Seriously, you want me to apologize to a door?” You nodded, he sighed.

“I’m sorry, dear Door, it wasn’t intentional. I will never do it again or to any of your door friends.” He looked at you, waiting for your approval. Trying to hide your smile, you bit your lip and only nodded once.

Sam took in the sight of you. Your hair was braided and away from your face. Your yaw had a little bit of blue paint. Your hands were a mess, all the colors seemed to merge in them, frankly it seemed as if that was your actual skin color, spots of pink and red and blue and orange and purple… It felt right, for some reason. You were wearing your “to paint” t-shirt; an oversized white old t-shirt which had hints of your many years painting.

His eyes, then, landed in your bare legs. And he knew, you were only wearing the t-shirt.

Sam cleared his throat and forced his eyes to go back to yours. You weren’t glaring anymore, you would’ve been, but it wasn’t the first time you had caught him looking.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey.” Your eyes followed his hand as he scratched the back of his neck. He’s nervous.

“Can I… May I come in?” You took a deep breath.

“Are you going to capture me and burn me alive?” He shook his head.

“No. I… I want to talk.”

“Did you bring something?” Sam laughed as your eyes traveled towards the brown bag behind him.

“Ice cream, chocolate and red wine, the cheapest red wine.” “As it should be”, he heard you whisper. It was then when the sound of your laugh filled his ears, he had missed it. You took a step inside and opened your arms wide.

“Come in.”

“So…” You said as you took two spoons out of the drawer. You opened the ice cream, but saved the wine for later. If Sam started asking questions, you might need it.

“I… I have questions.” He said. Oh boy, no. You sighed and opened the bottle.

“I figured. Shoot.” You poured yourself some wine and asked him if he wanted. He shook his head.

“Well, for how long?”

“Long as I can remember.” You took a sip and glued your eyes to the table.

“Well, what exactly can you do? Maybe you’re cursed or something similar. You don’t have to be a witch.” You silently laughed.

“Maybe you’re right but Sam you have to understand that I haven’t met someone, something or a whole definition for what I do.”

“Maybe I can help you with that.” He was wearing his worried face, with those puppy eyes looking at you. He wanted to help and correct the situation between you.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” You exhaled dramatically and brushed your hair with your fingers.

“Let’s start big, am, I can teleport, I see the future, I can sense people’s auras and sometimes even read their minds, although the last one’s rare. It only happens when the emotions of the person are very strong.” You looked at him through your glass of wine as you took another sip. He nodded for you to continue.

“I excel at divination, I can talk to animals but it’s the same situation as reading minds. I can heal myself and others in different levels…” Flashbacks started to flood Sam’s head. There was one time where he was preparing a coctel and as he was cutting the lime he had cut his finger. It wasn’t something big. You had already spent some time together and when he went back to talk to you at your place in the bar, you had indeed brushed your fingers lightly to the tips of his. By the time he saw his finger the cut was tinier than a papercut. Of course, when he questioned it out loud, you suggested it been the lime juice, you claimed it had scaring properties.

“You mentioned teleporting.” Sam started. You stopped talking and nodded, emptying the last of your wine in your mouth.

“How can you exactly teleport?”

“Not like demons. I can’t just banish in midair and reappear where I’d like.”

“Then how?” You gave him a small smile. You stood up and as easily as before the whole mess, took his hand in yours. As if it were the first time, he blushed intensely. It surprised him how used to your touch he was and how with only two days of not being around you it felt weird not to hold your hand in his.

You conducted him to the nearest closed door, that been the one of your supplies closet. You opened the door and showed him, well, your closet.

“What am I supposed to see?”

“Ordinary, isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded. You closed the door again and when your hand went to touch the handle again, he thought he had seen it shine orange as the sunset. When you opened the door the sight in front of him was different.

It was a sunset in front of his eyes, a beach and a calm waving ocean; so near and real. He had never gone to the beach, ever. In the hunter life there wasn’t much space for vacations, let alone a vacation in a tropical destination.

“What? Is this real?” Sam turned to look at you. A warm feeling spread across your chest. Oh, his stupid face, so adorable and lighted and full of surprise and wonder.

“You want to go? The portal won’t close unless I close it. So we can walk in the beach if we want to.” He scoffed and started taking off his shoes and socks. You did the same.

“How does this work?”

“Well, there’s like a veil between the places. The veil helps the people or animals at the other side not see our side of the portal. They only see what they should be seeing.”

“So, we just have to step through the veil?” You nodded.

Sam took your hand in his. Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t often that he took the initiative, however through the past weeks; he seemed as if he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was always the small of your back, your elbow, knee, head, shoulder or back of your neck that was in touch of his palm. But when it came to holding hands, you were the one that usually started it.

“Ready?” You asked him. He didn’t answer. He just walked ahead of you, for the doorway wasn’t big enough.

You were already used to it. Being in one place and then being in another. The change of scenery didn’t affect you. Then, you looked at Sam, his eyes were closed. He was walking then stood still as he took in the feeling of soft sand beneath his feet.

He exhaled a shocked breath.

You giggled and contemplated the idea of kissing his cheek, his cheek or lips. A sad smile was drawn in your face. Even after all of this, you might still end up without him.

You gulped the knot in your throat, so your voice will sound smooth again.

“Open your eyes, Sammy.”

He did. If you thought his last expression was priceless, then the one in front of your eyes made the aching in your chest grew bigger. The sort of ache you have when you see something so beautiful it hurts. The sort of ache that you had both experienced at the sight of each other under the orange, golden light of the sunset.

He felt his hand leave yours as his arm slowly snaked his way around your waist. He drew you closer to him, chests pressed together. With his other hand, he cupped your face. You debated yourself whether you wanted to close your eyes or stare into his. Your hands placed themselves on his shoulders, but when he hugged you closer you clasped them at the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what you are Y/N and I don’t care anymore.” Sam whispered. He dipped his head more until you noses touched.

“I could be many things, corazón. But I know evil I am not.” He loved it when you called him that. That little pet name you had for him.

“Y/N, I really want to kiss you, so you better not tease me again.” You giggled and he closed the distance between you.

You both sighed in content. You had waited so long for this kiss. Such a tender yet desperate kiss. A kiss that could last forever and yet slip away. Like time or ether, touch or heartbeats. You both wanted it to last forever, if only your breaths had the same will as your lips.

When your lungs cried for air, you separated and stayed closed. Contradictory but existing.

“How was that tease, pretty boy?”

“You call that teasing?” In his eyes there was a promise, he’ll show you what it truly was teasing.

#sam winchester #sam x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #fluff #angst #smut #piedras rodantes

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armltagehux · 7 years ago

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yep so I wanted some dad!Ben fluff so here we go.

(set in the same verse as All That I Have but you don’t need to read it to understand this little ficlet)

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Rey hangs back by the doorway, gazing at her husband. The room is still covered in a hushed silence, the sleepy sounds of morning as the sun rises over the horizon outside their bedroom windows. He sits in a rocking chair, tiny bundle of blankets in his arms. Their daughter, Padmé. She’d awakened when Rey climbed out of bed, her tiny little senses attuned to her mother, waking with her and sleeping with her, like they shared a part of each other. Ben found it intriguing and beautiful.

He nods, no words needed. It’s taken him weeks, but he’s finally gotten used to the idea that he wasn’t going to break her, that his large hands and strong arms wouldn’t crush her. He loved her too much. He was going to use that strength and size to support her, boost her up, give her a life he could only dream of when he was a child.

Padmé snoozes against his chest, her gentle breath a soothing noise in his ear. His hand splays across her entire back, and she’s warm against him. Content.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Rey whispers.

Ben knows why she needs to go; she’s needed to help the Galactic Alliance, to work with Holdo and Leia and other senators to really push their efforts forward. Rey needs to represent the Resistance, those opposed to the First Order, and she needs to start enacting change.

It’s the first time he’ll be completely alone with their daughter for more than a few minutes.

Now, he’ll be alone with her for a full week.

Leaving is difficult for Rey for the same reason it’s terrifying for Ben; she’s never been away from her daughter for so long. She’s filled with terror, that something will happen and she’ll never come back and Padmé will wonder why her mother never came home. Rey cried the first day she realized she’d have to be away, that her daughter could potentially feel that cold sting of abandonment.

But Ben had held Rey and reassured her, promised that nothing would go wrong, that Rey would come back and Padmé would be none the wiser that she’d left for a week.

“We promised she’d never be lonely,” Ben had whispered into Rey’s hair, brushing her tears from her cheek as Padmé slept peacefully the next room over. “It will be okay.”

Rey walks across the room again and leans over to press a soft kiss to the back of Padmé’s head, taking care not to wake her. “I’ll miss you, darling,” she whispers to her.

When she looks up at Ben, he sees the fear, the worry in her eyes. The unshed tears. The ache in her chest at having to leave the comfort of their home, their family, for the first time in weeks. “I’ll miss you, too,” she whispers.

“Everything will be fine,” he reassures her, even though they both know that he’s got fear welling in his chest at the thought of caring for Padmé without Rey or his mother to call on if things got difficult. “We’ll miss you, but we’ll be right here when you get back.”

Rey presses her lips to Ben’s and lingers there, reveling in the gentle weight of his hand on her waist. In such a short amount of time, she’s grown so attached to him, the two of them working in tandem so perfectly to care for their daughter. It’s odd to fathom even a week without him. In the long run, it’s nothing, but in the moment it’s a terrifying thought.

When she breaks the kiss, she turns and leaves the room without looking back; she knows that if she does, she’ll never leave.

As soon as the door clicks shut and Rey walks away from their little cottage, Padmé starts to fuss. “Shh, it’s alright,” Ben whispers. He presses a kiss to her forehead as she flails her little limbs. She’s still so tiny, but she’s fierce as she kicks her tiny feet against his chest.

He rubs her back and bounces her a little, trying to soothe her, but it doesn’t work.

All the other times this happens, Rey swoops in to help.

Rey isn’t here to help, now.

Recalling all the times he’s watched her soothe Padmé, Ben stands. He bounces a little in his knees, seeing if that will help, and she quiets but just slightly. When he begins to walk across the room, though, her little head starts to press at his hand. Padmé looks around the room with big eyes, watching as the world slowly passes her by. Her little fist grabs hold of his shirt and she looks around in awe as they walk.

“Okay,” Ben mutters, mostly to himself. “We’ll walk then.”

He eyes Rey’s stupid sling thing she got to carry Padmé in - “why use that when you could just use your hands?” he’d asked - but he doesn’t need it. He refuses to use it. He can carry his daughter without strapping her to his chest with the help of some fabric. Definitely. That’s what dads do… right?

Ben wanders the cottage, the tiny space seeming much tinier now after doing his twelfth lap around the place. But every time he tries to stop and sit down, Padmé fusses again. After the eighth time, he’d just sat and tried to calm her with toys or a lullaby, but she’d just whimpered and cried some more.

He knows deep down that if he wants to make sure she’s not too spoiled, he needs to just teach her to deal with it. But Ben also knows that she’s probably a little disconcerted by the absence of her mother, so he can probably make an exception.

Chandrila is especially beautiful that day, the bright sun shining down, sparking on the lake, the leaves on the trees blowing in a gentle breeze. The weather is temperate - not too hot, not too cold - it’s probably the perfect day for a walk now that the sun has risen and the day has truly begun.

He looks down at Padmé, and then back up at the window.

If he goes out with her, takes a walk - they could be seen. He’s still not used to people on the planet, people who used to know him as Kylo Ren, seeing him as a father. They always stare at him - and not in a good way.

But if it will make Padmé happy?

His mind is made up. Ben reaches for the door handle, balancing Padmé in his other hand, and he swears he can hear Rey admonishing him for being stubborn and not thinking of Padmé before his own pride.

Ben looks back at the nursery and rolls his eyes, hard.

---

Padmé coos happily as Ben trudges along the path along the sea, sunlight sparkling off the surface of the water. He wears a plain black shirt and trousers, his boots thumping hard on the wood of the boardwalk. Padme is held securely to his chest, the stupid baby sling holding her carefully in place as he holds a mug of caf in one hand and pats her back with the other.

They’ve been seen by a few people, Finn and Poe included, and Ben has gotten his fair share of surprised looks.

Padmé is happy, though. She’s content, cooing and blowing little spit bubbles as she looks around at the green, the blue, all the colors that her little eyes are just getting used to. And if he’s got to look a fool in front of people he doesn’t know, he’ll do it.

For Padmé, he’d do everything.

(And Rey never needs to know that he actually used the baby sling. Never. Ever.)

#kid fic #kylo ren #rey #reylo #reylo baby #my writing

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this-book-has-been-loved · 7 years ago

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A Gremlin In Glasses Swoops In To Save The Day

For @platonicvldweek Day 7: Alternate Reality

A Percy Jackson AU, cowritten by myself and @kabber

Read it on Ao3 | Read it on FFN

“He’s on his phone again.”

Lance and Hunk sat in the back row of their classroom. Professor Montgomery was droning on an on about torque—whoever that was—and Lance was bored out of his skull.

Hunk, on the other hand, was intently paying attention, taking rigorous notes. “What?” he whispered.

“Marcus,” Lance hissed. “He’s on his phone again.”

The person in question was sitting a few rows in front of them, off to the right. He was a new student, having only transferred to their school about a week prior, but had already made teachers’ pet in nearly every class. Seemingly in opposition to that fact, Marcus was slouched in his seat, tapping away at the smartphone in his lap. Lance wasn’t sure how he was getting away with it. If he had pulled out his phone, the professor would be on him in an instant.

“He’s being so obvious about it!” Lance continued in a hushed tone. “How is no one noticing?”

Hunk shook his head. “It’s fine, man. Just focus. Don’t get too hung up on this.”

Professor Montgomery’s gaze fell on the two of them in the back, hardening in distaste, and Lance only hunched further in his seat.

Professor Montgomery resumed her lecture, and Lance resisted the urge to bang his forehead against his desk.

“I just don’t get it,” he continued. “I mean, who the fuck is torque?”

Hunk glanced at him in mild shock. “Lance, torque is a what, not a who. And we studied that weeks ago, we’re on the next chapter now.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Yes?” Lance’s attention shifted when the professor’s tone of voice changed. Montgomery was looking towards the far left end of the third row, a slightly pained smile on her face.

“Well, technically, centrifugal force isn’t actually a force.” The speaker was someone Lance recognized immediately—the precocious nerd kid who made most teachers’ lives a living hell. They were wearing an oversized green shirt that made them look even tinier than they were; and they were already pretty small to begin with, having skipped a few grades and being younger than everyone else in class. “It’s merely the reaction to the centripetal force on the object in question, resulting in the tendency of an object following a curved path to fly away from the center of curvature.”

Lance bit back a groan.

If it was possible, Professor Montgomery’s smile only tightened. “Yes, thank you, I was getting to that.”

“I hate this class,” Lance muttered, resting his chin on his desk. “I hate this.”

“Just a bit longer till the bell,” Hunk reassured him.

Marcus raised his hand, and Lance’s grip on himself got even more tenuous. “Though not a real force,” he said, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t actually been called on, “the centrifugal force is an inertial force. Newton described it as the pseudo-force directed away from the axis of rotation that appears to act on all objects when viewed in a rotating frame of reference.”

The know-it-all in the front rolled their eyes. “Well, yeah, everyone knows that. But it’s still just an effect of the inertia of motion, rather than its own force.”

Professor Montgomery opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, the bell rang. The classroom full of students began to pack up, and Lance let out an audible sigh of relief as he grabbed his backpack off the floor. “And we’re out of here!” he said happily. “Weekend, here we come!” He turned back to Hunk, who was still putting away his notebook. “Ready to hit the town, my man?”

Hunk rolled his eyes in exasperated fondness. “Yeah, yeah. Just gotta stop at my locker first.”

“I swear,” Lance muttered, “sometimes I’m pretty sure that guy’s not human.” He was leaning against the wall of lockers, speaking energetically with his hands. Beside him, Hunk had his locker door open, digging through it.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Hunk agreed absently.

“Like. No one is that perfect!”

“I hear you, man.”

“Fucking Marcus.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Him and his stupid iPhones.”

“Yep.”

“Thinks he’s so much better than everyone else, just cuz he uses Apple products.” Lance pulled out his own phone—a perfectly serviceable Samsung Galaxy Note 7, thank you very much. “Shit. You almost good to go? I don’t wanna be late for the movie.”

“Yeah,” Hunk said, closing his locker door. “Ready.”

“Perfect.” Lance took off down the hallway as Hunk followed “Let’s cut through the gym,” he suggested. “That’ll take us out closer to 2nd street.”

When they got to the gym, they were shocked to see that it wasn’t as empty as they thought it would be, and Lance’s irritation returned full force when he saw it’s occupant. “Oh, it’s Marcus.”

“Hey guys,” Marcus replied, just as chipper as always, a bright smile on his face. “Just got the new iPhone XLV.”

Hunk narrowed his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s not a thing.”

“I get all the newest iPhones before they’re released to the public,” he said with a smile. “This is the newest one! So new you’ve never even heard of it, I’ll bet.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Get outta the way, I’ve got places to be.”

Marcus made no indication that he had heard him. “These phones keep getting more incredible every day! There’s so many cool new features that you humans could only dream of!”

“Us humans?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like, look at this app I downloaded,” he continued, not taking his eyes off the screen. “It’s so useful. Really helped me out when tracking you two down!”

They looked at each other and simultaneously took a step back.

“Wait, tracking us?” Hunk asked.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about,” he said flatly.

Marcus finally looked up at them, still smiling. “But I don’t need an app for what I’m going to do to you next!”

Right before their eyes, Marcus started to change. His arms and legs thickened to the size of logs, his shoulders widened dramatically as he began to grow taller and taller…

His face shifted, two eyes becoming one giant one in the middle of his forehead. His smile went from friendly and charming to a sneer full of crooked, darkened teeth.

The monster rose to his full height slowly, grinning widely down at them.

“Welp,” Hunk said. “We’re screwed.”

“Shut u—no, you’re right, we’re janked.”

The newly monsterized Marcus threw his head back and laughed, before raising his giant fist, the one not holding an iPhone, above his head, ready to pound them into tiny pancakes. The boys were frozen in place as he brought his fist down on top of them.

Right before they were crushed to smithereens, something small and green launched itself, screaming angrily, right at the cyclop’s massive one-eyed head.

The giant grunted in surprise, trying to get a glimpse of the thing currently riding on his neck. “Wha—Get off of me!”

“Wait a second…” Lance said, narrowing his eyes. “Isn't that the weird nerdy know-it-all kid in our physics class?”

“Oh, yeah, hold on.” He snapped his fingers a few times, his brow furrowing. “Shoot, what was their name…starts with a K, right?”

“Pidge,” the newcomer shouted down at them, hanging on for dear life. “I mean, yes, you’re right. But I prefer to go by Pidge.” They held on tighter as the cyclops tried to dislodge them. “Now get out of here!” They wielded a strange weapon- like a cross between a dagger and brass knuckles, which they were currently trying to slash across the monster’s neck.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Hunk said, already halfway to the door.

“Hunk, wait! We can’t just leave him!”

“What?! Are we looking at the same giant monster thing here?”

“I said,” Pidge growled through gritted teeth. “Get out of here, you stupid morta- Whoooa!”

The monster had finally gotten a hold of Pidge, ripping them away from his neck and halfway across the gym.

“Shiiiiit,” Pidge said as they landed with a loud crash on a pile of gym equipment.

The monster turned his steely gaze on the boys.

“Just for the record,” Hunk said matter-of-factly, “this is your fault.”

They turned and ran towards the door.

“It’s locked!” Lance shouted, pulling desperately at the door handle. Now they really did have no choice but to help. It was either that or cowering in the corner. The latter was starting to seem more appealing.

They didn’t get a chance to decide, because at that moment, Pidge emerged from the pile of old, smelly gym stuff.

“Catch!” they shouted. The two of them turned around just in time to catch two… hockey sticks?

“A hockey stick,” Lance muttered. He sent a glare towards his tiny classmate. “You couldn’t have thrown us something more useful?”

“We’re in the middle of our hockey unit, we don’t exactly have a whole lot of options here!” And with that, they whirled back on the giant, weird blade thing at the ready.

“I don’t know about this, bro,” Hunk muttered.

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s do this shit.” He rushed at the cyclops while yelling, waving his hockey stick wildly in front of him. Hunk followed behind him, also yelling, though it was definitely more out of fear than determination.

They whacked uselessly at the giant’s knees. The monster laughed. “You really think those cheap plastic things will do anything against me?”

“No, but this will!” Pidge pounced on the giant, swinging their arm like a street fighter suckerpunching his opponent. The blade in their hand sliced into the monster, sending the iPhone in his hand flying across the air and against the wall, showering them in a spectacular explosion of glass.

“No! That was my last backup phone!” Marcus roared.

“Oh, just wait three months for the new one to come out,” Pidge scoffed. They drew their blade across the back of the cyclop’s calves as they rushed past him, causing him to fall to his knees.

“You little shit!” He swiped at them, but they were too fast, dancing just out of his reach.

They ran up the monster’s arm as he pounded the ground just next to them. “Fuck you! And your overly-priced phones!”

The cyclops twisted his body trying to get rid of the unwanted pest.

“Looks like you need a new service provider,” they said intensely.

“Wow,” said Hunk. “That was kind of…”

“Really cool?” Lance suggested.

Pidge drew their knife across the cyclop’s throat, deep enough that his head hung off his shoulders for a moment, before exploding into dust, quite literally.

The force was enough to knock Lance and Hunk back several feet.

When the dust cleared, Pidge stood at the center of the room, covered in dust but looking quite satisfied with themself.

“Well,” Hunk started. “That was. That was a thing.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Pidge muttered.

“So,” Lance said. “Pidge? Um, yeah, quick question. What the hell just happened?!”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Pidge replied cooly, wiping their strange dagger against their shirt. “Well. I’ll see you in class.”

“Hold up!” Lance cried, chasing after them and grabbing them by the shoulder. “You can’t just leave. What was that?!”

“Yeah, man,” Hunk agreed. “A giant cyclops or something just attacked us, and you’re trying to brush it off—”

“Wait.” Pidge paused, turning to glance at the two boys. “You…could see all of that?”

“Uh, yeah?” Lance replied, looking at Pidge in confusion. “What kind of a question is that? Of course we could see it!”

They were silent for a moment, looking between Hunk and Lance in shock. They took a step back, eyes falling to stare at the floor, their brow furrowing. “It must have sensed you,” Pidge murmured to themself. They looked up sharply, meeting the startled eyes of their companions. “What exactly were you doing before that thing attacked?”

Surprised at their vehemence, Lance stepped back. “Um. I dunno. We were just gonna cut through the gym to use the far exit.”

“He said something about tracking us?” Hunk offered. “Something on his phone.”

Pidge’s expression changed to one of annoyance. “Of course.” They raised an eyebrow, smirking at Lance. “Lemme guess. Too many selfies?”

“No!” Lance sputtered. “And even if that was it, there’s nothing wrong with selfies! They’re a great way to capture the moment—”

“Yeah, not for demigods,” Pidge interrupted.

Hunk frowned. “Demi what?”

Pidge bit their lip, looking around them anxiously. “We need to get out of here,” they decided. “Don’t wanna be here when the police show up.”

Hunk paled. “Police?!”

“Just follow me!” Pidge called, headed towards a side exit. “I’ll explain once we’ve reached a more secure location.”

‘A more secure location’, as it turned out, meant the alley a few blocks down the road. The three of them crouched behind a dumpster, Pidge periodically checking the street for any intruders.

“Alright, know-it-all,” Lance demanded. “We’re at your ‘secure location’. Now talk.”

Pidge sighed. “Okay. You saw that, right? You saw what Marcus turned into?”

“Y-yeah,” Hunk replied nervously.

“You’re lucky I was there to help.”

“That begs the question,” Lance began. “How exactly did you know to come to the gym just then?”

Pidge crossed their arms. “I’ve been tailing that guy for days,” they confessed. “Just waiting for him to reveal himself. I just didn’t expect him to go after you guys instead of me.”

“It looked like a cyclops…” Hunk added. “But that’s impossible.” He frowned. “Right?”

“Did it look impossible when you were whacking at it with plastic sticks?” Pidge asked.

“Uh…”

“But yes, to normal people, it would seem impossible. So impossible, in fact, they wouldn’t have been able to see it the way it really was. But obviously we’re not.”

“Normal people?”

“Yeah.” Pidge crossed their arms and tilted their head. “Well, I mean, some mortals can see through the Mist. But the odds of running into two at once—”

“Whoa, whoa, back up. Why did you say…normal people? Mortals? As if…as if we’re not?”

Pidge looked at them for a long time. “Yes,” they said after a while. “You’re not. And neither am I.”

Hunk’s eyes widened in horror. “If we’re not human,” he fretted, “then what are we?! Are we aliens?!?!”

“Relax, Hunk, none of us are aliens,” Lance said. “Aliens aren’t real.”

Hunk breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re still human,” Pidge assured him. “Or, half.”

Lanced narrowed his eyes. “…what’s the other half?”

Pidge crossed their arms. “You’re in my history class,” they stated matter-of-factly. “With Mr Harris, right? Do you remember what unit we were studying last month?”

“Um.” Lance blinked. “Maybe?”

“Ancient civilizations,” Pidge answered. “Egyptian, Norse, Roman….” They raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Greek.”

“Greek,” Lance repeated dumbly.

“Greek god, Lance. One of your parents was a Greek god.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Lance abruptly stood up, turning to walk away. “Okay. Good talk. Nice meeting you. I’m going back home, where things make sense.”

“Yeah, where the police are out looking for the kids who just trashed the school gym?”

“But—” Hunk protested, “we didn’t do that! That was Marcus!”

“Remember what I said about normal people not being able to see that kind of stuff?” Pidge asked, raising an eyebrow. “This falls under that category. I can guarantee that when they watch back that security footage, they’re just gonna see the three of us, tearing apart the gym. No Marcus to be seen.”

Lance had frozen a few feet away, mid step. He and Hunk were silent for a moment, processing.

Pidge sighed. “I’ve been here before,” they said softly. “I know how this is. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve had to transfer schools. My brother too.”

“So….” Hunk still looked completely freaked out, as though he didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. “What do we do now?”

“Listen,” Pidge told the two of them gently. “Now that you know, things are gonna start getting more dangerous for you.”

“I’m not a fan of the word ‘dangerous’,” Hunk said.

“I need to get you someplace safe.” They stood up, brushing the dirt off their cargo shorts. “Come on. I know a place we can go.”

“A place?” Lance echoed warily.

“Mm-hmm,” Pidge said, flashing them a sly grin. “You guys ever been to New York?”

#platonicvldweek #Voltron: Legendary Defender #Voltron Legendary Defender #Voltron #vld #Voltron fanfiction #Voltron fanfic #pjo #pjo fanfiction #Lance MacClain #Hunk Garrett #Pidge Gunderson #Katie Holt #mine #my writing #i'm a writer #YES SEIFERT AND I DO PLAN ON CONTINUING THIS

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onkey-bedtime-stories · 7 years ago

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EUNOIA - chapter 3

Chapter 2

—————-

Though it is summer, the sky’s drawn saturated this morning. Away from coast-crowded situation and glowing skin under sunny day, someone’s already occupied in the kitchen. It’s not even seven in the morning more to surprise.

And what makes the whole scene is more surreal for Junghee when she got on the wooden floor of the living room is her eyes caught Kibum messing around between the stove and her favorite kitchen island. To reassure herself she’s one hundred percent awake and everything before her is not merely random mirage in her life, she checked the clock once again and the urge of pinching herself is undeniable.

Six fifty. Who woke up at six fifty?

Walking to the kitchen silently, she can’t help but gasp when colorful plates full of waffle chicken strips, and bacon lay on a checkered table cloth she just bought last week. Kibum is struggling squeezing some oranges near the sink when she darted her eyes in disbelief.

“Let me do that.”

She doesn’t need to observe too much when Kibum lifted his head. Definitely not even a minute he got to sleep the night before, those bloody eyes and dried skin tell everything. Without saying anything, Kibuk stepped aside, wiped his hand while Junghee easily got all the juice out with single hand.

Before the things became more awkward in the stillness of the air, he moved to the coffee maker to prepare some shot.

“I’m sorry.”

Kibum pretends he didn’t hear anything and chose to follow every single drip of the dark liquid in front of him.

“I just.. you know, very worried and overwhelmed with everything.”

He turned to his side after a deep breath. She looks even tinier with such level of anxiety all over her skin. At the end, his heart’s softened, simple arch formed on his tired face.

“I apologize for yelling to you, too.”

“She’s been through a lot and the fact I wasn’t there at the very second she needed me.. It broke my heart. Now she’s here, suddenly I just wanted to protect her with all my might. It scared me to death when I couldn’t reach her yesterday. All of the thoughts.. Her brother concerns.. for the sui—suicidal.. possibility.. I—I went cr—crazy right away.. I—“

Kibum’s unable to catch the rest since Junghee grabbed the edge of the counter, knuckles almost white, mewling as if someone kill her parents.

“Ssshh..” Kibum embraced her and let her leaned on him for consolation, “I know.. I told you I understand, right? And I’m sorry I’m supposed to text you anyway that Eunsook’s with me. Guess I’ve been selfish..”

“I’m the selfish one. I never asked her what she need because I’m afraid I’d hurt her more by mentioning something close to that topic and just doing whatever I thought the best for her without even care if she’s comfortable with that,” she peeled herself from Kibum, wiping her slightly swollen eyes with the back of her fore arms, “So, are we cool now?”

“We never not cool, Kim Junghee, you know that,” he messed with his friend hair which she replied with hugging Kibum torso in return, “But, you’d kill me if you’re like this.”

He acts like having difficulty in breathing but instead released him, she tighten her grip more as if she really wanted to choke him, “I will really kill you if you dare hurting my best friend, Kim Kibum.”

“I promise you I won’t.”

“Don’t ever think this is your pass! If this is an intersection, the red light is still on.”

He chuckles and gives her pats on the head, “Alright, Shorty! I told you before you’re kind of scary when you’re mad.”

“I told you not to flirt more than one girl under the same roof, Kim Kibum! This is second warning..”

Minho teased both of them while running down stairs, he feels contented with the view of make-up-friends greets him in the morning after last night he spent almost three hours listening slash consoling Junghee because half of the time she’s not only pissed off and ranted but also sobbed liked she was in her own funeral.

“Wait. What did you just said?”

The tall guy realized he slipped something he shouldn’t so he stretched awkwardly, “Good morning, baby.”

Minho kisses his wife passionately, what a view for sore eyes, Kibum mumbles something inaudibly, completely not pleased with them.

“Let’s have breakfast, people. I don’t like cold food. Choi Minho, enough snogging and bring the coffee,” Kibum tried to escape the crime scene as soon as possible before Junghee exploded again.

“Uh-oh! Not that quick, Choi Minho. Stop right there!”

Junghee entailed right behind Minho who just kept walking to join Kibum because at this moment some waffles would be super helpful.

“What exactly do you mean by flirt only at one? You’re kidding, right?”

“Eat, honey, you need it after the whole rounds we had last night,” he ended the morning drama with a wink.

Kibum rolled his eyes again then massaged his temple to ease his rage. But Junghee just cannot let it go after she smelled the big fish jumped out the can. She chewed the chicken strips furiously and gulped it down with tall glass of orange juice.

“Baby, I love you very much so let’s be honest. You knew this after all?”

“Knew what?”

It’s actually hard for Minho to act clueless with Junghee’s eyes caught drilling a hole through him from the corner of his own.

“That this idiot has a crush with Eunsook? With my best friend?”

Junghee put more strength on each syllables.

“Hmmm.. Kind of?”

Kibum quickly removed the knife from Junghee’s plate sensing his life is in a big threat.

“Kind of?! What the hell is kind of?!”

“Wow.. wow.. slow down, Junghee! It’s seven in the morning!”

“Shut up, you’re next!” she pointed her fork to Kibum which the latter instantly raised both his hands to the air then returned back to her husband, “Okay, tell me, what kind of ‘kind of’ is that? Since when?”

Minho purposely takes time to finish a bite of waffle, “Since the first time they met?”

“Excuse me?!”

Kibum slapped his forehead and glanced to the door of Eunsook’s room hoping Junghee’s loud voices not waking her up even if he’s pretty sure her voice can be heard up until the next two houses.

“You know that and you didn’t tell me? At all? Not even hint?!”

“Well, in my defense, honey, I’m still not sure back then but you know.. you got this hunch you cannot sleep on..”

She put down her fork when her consciousness told her to calm a little bit, “And you’re sure right now?”

“I was pretty sure when you rant last night about how Kibum took her here and there and didn’t text you or call you. By that, my dear wife, I will say, yes, he has a crush on our Lady Eunsook. Now can I get a peaceful breakfast I haven’t got since last week?”

“Lower your voice, will you?!”

Suddenly Kibum feels his seat is burning, it’s so hard to stay composed while he’s anxious as hell, because he knew his friends really well and they’re not that good at being quiet.

“I can’t believe it! You all team up behind my back so this jock over here can make his dirty move to my Eunsook?!”

“For the love of God, there’s nothing so called dirty with having a good talk in a café and shopping for some camera’s stuffs. Do you know that you sound like Mother Gothel now?” Kibum ignores Junghee’s unforgiving glare and took another round of piles of bacon, “Speaking of your beloved Rapunzel.. where is Eunsook? You should wake her up to have some breakfast, you evil host!”

“She’s not home.”

“Nonsense! She was there last night talking to me.”

Feeling annoyed Junghee grabbed her phone and shook it on the air, “She texted me she went for a run.”

“Run? When?”

“I don’t know.. around five?”

She went out at five while I’ve been awake the whole night in my room? Stupid headphones!!!

“Why? Why she went for a run?”

“What do you care? She can go running whenever she wants! Especially after she felt suffocated and almost had a heart attack when she woke up in the dark! Who’s the Mother Gothel now?!”

“What?!”

“Stop shouting at me!”

“No, argh, I’m sorry,” he gulped some coffee to tone him down, “Kim Junghee, what did you just say about this suffocated and dark?”

“Gosh, I cannot believe I said this to you.. Eunsook is a bit claustrophobic, that’s why she..”

“..kept the light on at night.”

Her ears suddenly perked up with what he said even though Kibum sounded like he murmured for himself, “How did you know?!”

“Shit shit shit!!! You’re an idiot, Kim Kibum!”

“Kim Kibum, look at me. How did you know?”

Kibum bites his lower lip, looking at Minho for any moral support but his best friend just put a cool expression also waiting for him to spill the bean. He’s contemplating whether he should tell her he turned off her light or just keep it in secret until he faced his death. Because once again, angry Kim Junghee is scarier than any slaughter house and no one under this roof want to deal with that.

“Good morning!”

Kibum about to open his mouth when a beautiful voice‘s chirping from the front door followed by glowing face popped out the front door. Both Junghee and Kibum immediately turned pale.

“Good morning! Right on time, Eunsook-ah! Come join breakfast!”

Minho who senses something is wrong took the lead to greet Eunsook. She smiled so wide, almost blinding in Kibum’s opinion, walked to the other three while still wiping the sweat dripping on her forehead.

“Wow! What a feast!” she received the orange juice from Minho and naturally took the empty chair next to Kibum, “Thank you!”

“Do you like waffles? Kibum made this!”

“Really?! That’s why the chicken strips look so beautiful! Tell me what you cannot do, Kibum!”

She rested her hand on his shoulder unexpectedly. Frenzy pink, Kibum jolted from his chair snatching the coffee pitcher, “We need more coffee!”

“Gosh, I don’t know it’s because I’m starving or he put something here, but this waffle is bomb! Let alone the chicken strips!”

Eunsook looks like someone just had been saved from an apocalyptic bunker and saw real food for the first time, she cannot stop picking the pieces from the plates.

“Well, just so you know, my friend over there had a great cooking skill since middle school.”

“Ah, no wonder. You should make me dinner sometimes!”

“Ugh, yeah, I will..,” then he saw the look at Junghee eyes, “If I have time. I will!”

“That would be so amazing!” she scoops more chicken strips and moved it to her plate, “What’s the point of working out if I ate like a monster? I think this is what I need, Junghee-ah! A man who can cook! What a perfect life, no? Choi Minho! You should start learning to cook! I told you, women love you more if you know how to move in the kitchen!”

Minho just laughs out loud knowing what she said might kill two birds at a time. On the other hand, Kibum wants to grab the nearest knife and stab himself on the chest.

***

“What?! Did you steal some weeds when I’m not around?” when the scent of Eunsook’s perfume brushed his respiratory system lightly, Kibum realized he’s too closed with the woman and quickly stepped back, elbow painfully bumped into the door knob, “The infinity room is the best!”

Eunsook put her shoes quickly and grabbed the slippers in a blink of an eye started feeling suffocated in the limited space of the foyer, plus Kibum is kind of trapped with her making it harder for her to control her breathe.

“I know. But don’t you think the part when we’re laying around on the net, almost twenty feet above the ground is amazing?”

He shook his head so hard when he pushed the next door, “Excuse me, Miss, no one messing around with Kusama.”

“Just saying, you know.. She is amazing, no doubt, but still..”

“Still the best charm in the museum. Period.”

“Is Kibum being stubborn again?”

They forgot they reached the living room already. The sight in front of them is Kibum’s usual view on the other night, Minho’s chilling on the couch after work, beer on the table, and some football on the huge screen on the wall.

“I just found out today,” Eunsook shrugged and dropped herself on the couch next to Minho while Kibum went straight to the kitchen.

“Welcome to the family, Lee Eunsook. He has a huge tendency to be a bit pushy sometimes.”

“Well, at least I’m not handsy like that guy who tried to grope Eunsook’s tight when we’re waiting on the line on the food truck festival.”

He handed the beer to Eunsook while the latter turned pink while she put the pouty mouth, instantly sending goosebumps along Kibum’s spine.

“Really? Did he mana—“

“Nope,” Kibum lifted his legs to the table proudly, “I kicked his shin before those filthy hands landed on her.”

“What a news. Wait until Junghee heard about this. I think she would definitely make up some curfew for the rest of your life.”

“Speaking of the devil, where’s my favorite witch?”

“That witch you’re talking about is my best friend, you know!”

“And my wife!”

“Well, doesn’t change the fact that she might do a spell of unbreakable curse on us or turn us into an ugly frog if we didn’t please her.”

“Good point.”

Minho and Eunsook said and unison, they laughed right away the next second then followed with a beautiful clink when their bottles met for a celebratory buddy-toast.

“I haven’t thanked you enough for that.”

“What are you saying? Anyone should do that whenever they saw some shit about to happen. It’s called common sense.”

“Got a good reflex. He almost joined the baseball team if he’s not collapsed on the field after only two rounds of running track.”

“Shut the front door, Choi Minho!”

“Oh, that attitude! Is this supposed to make my heart flutter?”

Eunsook teased him and Minho almost spurt the beer inside his mouth for laughing hard before he covered it. On the other side, Kibum regret whatever he had said earlier.

“But come on, really. Is that what’s supposed to? Because, let me tell you gentlemen, it wo—“

Her words hanging on the air when she felt her phone vibrates furiously on her purse. She bites her lip after quick glance to its screen.

“Sorry, I need to take this.”

Kibum can’t take his eyes off of her until her silhouette disappeared behind her room door. He tried to ignore Minho who’s clearly waiting for him to say something. After downed his beer, he casually turned his head to his right, unfortunately only to find his best friend immersed back to the game already.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Could be his brother.”

“She didn’t need to hide inside her room if it said so,” now it’s Minho’s turn to cock his head, “Taemin called during lunch and she talked to him comfortably in front of me.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I don’t know.. maybe trying to convince myself not to dive deeper than I’m allowed? Or waiting for you to lecture me about stuff?”

“You know that I’m not my wife, right?”

“Hmmm.”

Sound of the commentator indicates the game is getting interesting but Minho is not amused anymore. Ten years of friendship shows him that when Kibum started to peel the bottle label it means he’s in big trouble. Like now.

However, he doesn’t feel to say more for he’s afraid of interfering his personal space.

“Looks like we don’t need to wait for her to be back right?” Kibum grabbed his bag and unzipped the front pocket, “I forgot to give this to her. Can you do that for me? I better hit the bed now or I’ll miss the first train tomorrow morning.”

Minho looked at the Polaroid pictures landed on the cushion near his knee and sighed.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

The latter kept his mouth shut until he safely slides under the blanket.

***

“I don’t know.. I haven’t bought my return ticket yet..,” she opened the window as the room’s temperature seemed raised since they began talking.

“But you’re going back to Paris right?”

“Of course.. who will take care my stuffs then?”

“Wow.. wow, easy there, tiger!”

“Hahaha! You know I’m sensitive when it came for my belonging.”

“I know. I know it too well. I still remember when Taemin broke your bag. It’s not that visible, though I found it necessary to take you eating ice cream for two hours to calm down your nerves.”

“Who will teach him a lesson if it’s not his own sister? It’s a rule, you have to return things you borrowed in the same condition.”

“Anyone barely can see it. Would it make different when only one thread a bit loose on the strap?”

Eunsook just chuckled when she remember how outrageous she was when Taemin gave her rucksack back after two weeks road trip. It was quite silly actually but that bag was first month anniversary gift from Jungsoo after she mentioned she likes it when they saw it on the window display they passed.

It’s not about the anniversary gift she cared about. It’s the fact that Park Jungsoo, the most ignorance human being she knew, remembered her unconscious random comment about the design of the bag.

“You haven’t thrown it out, have you?”

“Are you being serious right now? How can I throw away something important? I keep it safe and sound in my wardrobe in Paris.”

“Glad to know that I’m still considered important.”

An invisible fist stuck in Eunsook’s throat, blocking the airway she became speechless in no time.

“Are you okay, Sookie?”

“Ugh, yeah.. why not? For your information, it’s the bag that’s important.”

Jungsoo bursts into huge laughter in the other line, sending comforting breeze to Eunsook who naturally close her eyes.

Ah, those sound.

Eunsook kept her sentiment sealed, not any single soul out there knows how much she missed all of those, the giggles, the suppressed laughter when he’s not supposed to laugh, the rhythm of his breath. Anything she can hear clearly through the phone that convinced her he is real, not only an imaginary figure she created to fix her hectic life.

“Go get some rest. You must be exhausted.”

No. I don’t care. I’ll trade all the time I have in the world to sleep for ten more minutes talking to you if it’s even make sense.

But deep in her heart she knows she is quite crazy to even think about that.

“Not really, but if you’re tired listen to me rambling about how colder here compare to the weather in Paris or Italy, it’s okay. You can hang up.”

“That’s the thing I’m billion percent sure it’s not going to happen in my existence.”

“Park Jungsoo, my favorite sweet talker, everyone.”

“Your favorite?”

Her heart skipped a bit by the simple question, “Yeah. Haven’t you heard about that?”

“Lee Eunsook, my favorite tease, everyone.”

“Don’t copy me.”

“I didn’t.”

“And what did you just do?”

“Telling you some fact?”

“Ugh, how lame.”

“You know I would be lame just for you?”

The words ‘I miss you’ are hanging dangerously on the tip of Eunsook’s tongue. She clutched the nearest piece of sheet she can reach to control herself.

“How thoughtful of you.”

“I’m always, ain’t I?” he’s pretty sure he can see her tiny smile right now, “Look what you’ve done. You should have gone to bed five minutes ago.”

“I told you I don’t mind.”

“And that’s how thoughtful of you. Go shower, get some rest. Let me know when you’re back to Paris, okay?”

“Stop telling me what to do, I’m not a baby, Park Jungsoo.”

“You’re always my baby, Lee Eunsook.”

At this rate, she wants to scream her lungs out and cry at the same time because she can tell it would be nothing but memories by the second their conversation ended.

“We’re only four years apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact of the first clause.”

“This is why I hate you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you right.”

She tossed her phone aside after Jungsoo bid his farewell. Something weighed her down inside her chest.

It feels alright. It feels like the other day. But why I don’t feel good?

She turned to the left, looking forlornly to her phone, hoping it would ring once again. Nevertheless, Taemin’s voice is banging uncontrollably on her ear drums, instead.

‘You know yourself better than anyone. I really wanted say I know you better, but there’s a chance you’d slap me hard on the back of my head so, no. If you know your heart is not that ready to forget him, then don’t. People sometimes had mistaken letting go for forgetting. It’s forgiving, honey. And forgiving is way more liberating than trying so hard to bury all those you’ve been called memories.’

Her lips went dried when bunch of memory explosion appear like a long wild commercial before the movie started. She’s almost grateful for the conversation between her and Jungsoo not that changed so much. It did seem like nothing happened, like they never call it quits. But what’s so great figuring you grew sort of false hope in your yard of feeling? Like all the efforts would be in vain at the end once the flower is withered day by day as a replacement for blooming?

“Oh. Where’s Kibum?”

Minho already changed the channel into some old movie while the present of Kibum is changed with Junghee cuddled close to her husband.

“He went to his room already,” Minho bends to the table a little bit making annoyed face appeared on Junghee who already half in dreamland, “He wanted to give this to you.”

Am I that sad?

It’s a candid Kibum took of her while she’s daydreaming again for the hundred times. Her eyes are somewhere else, searching for something she can hold for dear life. The next one captured her silly face when he out of the blue said to her to look pretty behind his camera. Subtle warmth enveloped her heart when she saw herself on the last one, laughing like there’s no tomorrow for the first time since her breakup.

“I think he’s already in slumber. Got an early train tomorrow, he said.”

Minho calm words stopped her in the middle of her way to his doorstep. She looked Junghee’s eyes closed already. When she moved her sight to Minho, he just smiled. Smiled like he understands her whole circumstance. Smiled like he pleading her not to involve his best friend in her heart situation.

Bucket of guilty poured down from her head to toe. She sent Minho bitter smile and quietly left to her sanctuary.

Suddenly she doesn’t feel thirsty anymore.

***

No one can help it if we engrossed too much in our pool of regrets. On the other hand, we ourselves also cannot help but to fall into those pits while busy recalling the good times and refused to be saved? But one thing we should keep in mind even though we are too exhausted to try, some moments, some things, they’re meant to be forgotten. To keep us sane. To keep us living our life. To keep us reminded how precious we are :)

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