#david strengthened himself

[dwuerch-blog]

Being a Self Leader

Being a Self Leader

Remember the Golden Rule? “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Matthew 7:12) We ARE our greatest cheerleader or at least we should be. Self-leadership causes us to first strive for being a good leader to ourselves. It means introspection and awareness of how we think and how we react. It is having a sense of being a stellar influencer of ourselves and then to others. Here’s an…

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Ladies, if you are being penetrated by him, he must know himself as a God. Even if your lover (no matter the gender) does not say those words or refer to themselves as such, you will be able to sense it in their daily actions. When I speak about masculine energy, that God energy, I'm not speaking about the performance like how a person's postures themselves or their overall banter. When I speak about masculine energy, I am speaking about tactile external structures like what are your lover's main focuses in life? How does your lover treat their body? Is your lover on social media all the time? What is their attention focused on? How does your lover manage resources including their money and "free time" like are they only playing video games, watching TV or sitting around in other ways when not working? I think of someone like Nipsey Hussle, who practiced semen retention, an archetype of human power who didn’t just carry masculine bravado, but organized and directed energy into a practice that procured success, those masters of our time who lived in more elevated ways. Other masculine archetypes I connect to are David Goggins, Joe Dispenza, Bruce Lee, Sun Ra, and many female and male athletes like Angel Reese and Deion Sanders. Too many woman have dead men/masculine energy hanging around their root, which means that they have very weak masculine energy entering their bodies and lives. Weak masculine energy makes you broke and tired because it makes no space for your actual feminine energy to shine and thrive. Weak masculine energy negatively affects your physical structure and taxes you financially and emotionally, like the lack of confidence or willpower you will have to move through discomfort or hard times. You must find ways to exalt the masculine energy within you if you want to excel in the this 3D energy. It is masculine energy that helps you to not only say the thing, but the become the thing. It is this energy that makes you completely comfortable with being the villian in another person’s story and not need to please everyone. This was one of my biggest coming-into-maturity lessons of all time. Goddess energy is lovely, the subtle and internal are deeply essential, but they are only truthful when God energy has been integrated. How can you raise the God in you? This is one major reason that I have been weightlifting nearly every week over the last 20 years. Even when I travel, I also grace the local gym as part of my traveling adventure. It’s the God in me that allowed me to confidently workout at Lee Haney’s gym on Ponce de Leon in Atlanta back in the day in the part of the weightlifting area where mostly big burly muscular men went as they stared at my ass while I squatted. It was a little icky and annoying at times but it was that God in me that mandated me to not tiptoe around or shrink like a little girl and only leave this area of the gym when I was done with what I came to do. Getting stronger not only helped my mental health and made me more confident, it is helped to dissolve a lot of the recurring low-grade depressive energy that was often part of my life. Strengthening my belly, my solar plexus, my sense of self, has been my discipline, one way I exalt the God, H.I.M., the masculine, within me. I never consciously realized that I tend to go into a gym feeling like a God until this morning--like "I can do this; I'm ready,” especially mustering this energy up on days when I don't really want to go, when going to the gym feels hard. Ultimately you can only attract God when you know yourself as a God, not intellectually because you read the Bible (many people who only read the Bible all the time stay broke and broken), but the God living in your own body and treat yourself accordingly. You can’t receive what you haven’t given to yourself. It's simple math. 1+1=2. -India Ame'ye, Author

[fluentmoviequoter]

Confessions of a SWAT Team

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon fell in love with each other, but didn't tell anyone. When officers closer to your age begin flirting with you, Deacon grows distant and won't tell you why.

Warnings: angst, fluff, age gap (not specific but I imagined ~15-20 years, so reader would be late 20s?), Deacon is protective, some arguing, mentions of insecurity, reader is somewhat shy, I used the term "suicide bomber" once in passing. Luca, Street, and Hondo meddle. I think that's all!

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Requested Here!

Picture from Pinterest

Falling in love with Deacon Kay was easy. Telling anyone, including the man himself, is not so easy.

Deacon Kay never considered the idea of skydiving to be scary… until he found himself falling head over heels for you, the newest recruit. When you walked in on your first day, confident of your skills yet willing to learn your place in the team and receive feedback, he felt something new. You were quiet and reserved, willing to learn, and each time he complimented your skills or offered an idea to make something easier or for improvement, you opened up a bit more. More than attraction, there was a deep need to get to know you, to protect you, to stay close to you, and, later, to hide his biggest secret from you and everyone else. Deacon Kay was falling in love but knew it was wrong.

At the end of your probationary period, you and Deacon have a deep connection, secrets and all. His need to stay close and protect you has only strengthened with time, but every time he looks at you, sees your youth, and pictures the bright future you could have, he tries to silence his heart and listen to his mind. You’re too young and could do so much better, he thinks.

Two months into working with 20 David, you were trapped face-to-face with a suicide bomber. With no protection and no escape route, you maintained a brave act while hoping, praying, that your gear would keep you alive. With three seconds left on the detonator countdown, you feel someone wrap their arms around you as their shoulder blocks your face. The force of the explosion knocks you backward, twisting in your savior’s arms to land on top of Deacon. You feel the pressure build in your eyes as you yell at him never to do that again. He can never know, but his protectiveness scares you because it puts him directly in harm’s way.

After the bombing incident, Deacon gets closer. He puts himself between you and gunfire, taking several shots to his Kevlar while leading you to safety. During a raid with narcotics, a cartel leader jumps on top of you, and you struggle for the upper hand until Deacon hauls him off of you, finishing the fight on your behalf. After Deacon protects you, he always takes you back to the station, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leads you somewhere private. He tends to your wounds and reminds you that he’s always there if you need to talk.

You want to talk to him more than anything, but Deacon is a Sergeant II, and he’s older than you, and, most importantly, he likely frowns upon inter-team relationships. So, you bottle everything up. Forever.

“You think he’ll ever tell her?” Street asks as Deacon walks out, close enough to you that your hands brush with every step.

“He hasn’t even told us,” Luca points out.

“Maybe we should do something.”

“Their relationship is theirs, guys,” Hondo interjects. “We shouldn’t interfere. Yet.”

Street and Luca smile at the thought of intervening in the future and seeing their teammates happy. They know Deacon is single-handedly responsible for breaking you out of your shell, but they’d like to see it go one step further.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She’s gorgeous,” someone says.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he hears voices grow louder. He tries to focus on the computer before him, looking for blueprints for an entry raid.

“Care for a friendly bet?” a second voice asks.

Several young officers dressed in street clothes stop beside the door where Deacon is working. He can see them, but they haven’t noticed him yet. His focus wavers when he thinks he hears your name.

“Of course, we’re still talking about her,” the first guy answers.

Deacon’s focus shifts completely, turning to face them. They’re close to your age and attractive, but what bothers him most is how easily they discuss their attraction to you.

“If you suggest a ‘first one to get a date with her’ bet, I’m out.”

“I was thinking more we see whose pickup line lands better, then we let her choose. She’s not a prize, she’s a person.”

Yet you’re planning to use her as an object in a bet, Deacon thinks.

“Were you at the range yesterday afternoon? She was there. I can’t believe how good she is. 20 David is lucky.”

“For more reasons than one.”

Deacon clenches his jaw as they walk away, still comparing what they've seen of your shooting and fighting skills. He watches you in awe, too, but they have a shot to get close to you.

“Focus,” he whispers to himself, facing the computer.

“Hey, Deac,” you call as you enter. “Hondo wanted to know if you found the property record? Although, I’m still arguing that this is a waste of your talents.”

You stop beside him, leaning against the desk and smiling at him.

“Uh, yeah,” Deacon answers, trying to look anywhere but at your beautiful eyes. “I got it.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Let’s go.”

You nod slowly before following him out. Two men call your name, and you look over, tilting your head as they beckon you over.

“I’ll be right there, Deac,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder twice.

He nods, watching silently as you walk to them. They smile as they say something quiet enough that he can’t hear. There’s a small smile on your face, and Deacon thinks you’re introducing yourself.

Pointless, he thinks, they know more about you than they should. Not as much as me, though.

The thought catches Deacon off guard, and when he looks back up, the taller officer is openly flirting with you. You laugh and push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Deacon missed his chance. He walks away while you continue smiling at them, seemingly enjoying their flirtations.

���✯✯✯✯

You’re uncomfortable; these officers are 1) flirting with you while you’re still working and 2) way too young and immature for you. Forcing a laugh and moving your hand to your hair nervously, you glance over and only see Deacon’s back as he leaves.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” you blurt out, interrupting the worst pickup line you’ve ever heard, “but it was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. We’ll see you around?” one asks.

“I’m sure we will, we work in the same building,” you answer before realizing that it sounds a little too much like an invitation to come talk to you again.

Rushing to follow Deacon, you enter an office behind him, and Hondo immediately starts talking. You stand by Deacon, but he doesn’t look over and roll his eyes at Hondo’s bad analogies like usual. Fiddling with your fingers, you try to focus but wonder what happened. He could have a lot on his mind, or maybe you did something wrong. You decide to give it some time and hope that it passes.

20 David spends the afternoon training, and when you get in the ring with Deacon, you expect it to go as usual. Typically, you throw a few punches and have to beg Deacon to fight back and make it fair. However, today, Deacon has no problem immediately giving you a full-force hit. You step back and catch yourself before returning the hit. You lose the sparring round, and Deacon climbs out without a glance in your direction.

When you see him later while preparing to go home for the night, you stay quiet. Part of you hopes he’ll yell at you or something - anything to acknowledge you, but nothing happens.

“Goodnight,” you say as Deacon leaves the locker room.

He nods without looking at you. Your heart feels like it’s in pieces on the locker room floor, and you take a deep breath before gathering your things to go home.

“Heading out?” Luca asks as he walks in. You nod, and he adds, “We’re going out for a little bit, want to come?”

“No thanks,” you say quietly, closing your locker gently. “See you tomorrow.”

Street opens the door from the other side and holds it, his smile falling as you duck your head and rush past him.

“What happened?” he asks Luca.

“Deacon,” he answers.

“Want to tell me why Deacon is slamming doors?” Hondo asks when Luca and Street exit.

“Is it just Deacon?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Should we do something now? That distance isn’t safe in the field and if she’s nervous around him…” Street trails off.

“We may have to. She’s not the only emotional one, though. Deac looked a little green on his way out,” Hondo responds.

“What now?”

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes. We have the gala tomorrow night, so something needs to happen. And soon.”

✯✯✯✯✯

 Sitting on your couch, you replay every event of the day. Obviously, you did something wrong, which is why Deacon is so eager for space between you. The only ‘bad’ thing that happened before he changed was the officers flirting with you, but you were still on time, so you didn’t do anything wrong.

If Deacon wants space, you’ll give it to him. It’s the least you can do.

The garment bag in your bathroom catches your attention, and you cross your fingers that the gala is enjoyable and not an evening spent avoiding and being avoided by the one man you’d like to dance with.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, brother, you clean up nice,” Hondo taunts as Deacon approaches.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Deacon replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. He glances around but doesn’t find what, or who, he’s looking for.

“She’s not here yet,” Street says.

“What?”

Hondo shakes his head, and Street takes his cue, excusing himself to let Hondo and Deacon talk.

“What happened between you two?” he inquires.

“Me and Street?”

Hondo rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Deacon. “You’re jealous.”

Deacon’s eyes stray from Hondo, locking on something behind him. Turning his head, Hondo laughs when he sees what is more worthy of his friend’s attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

Stepping into the large ballroom, you barely have time for a full breath before the officers from earlier sidle up to you and begin talking. You smile politely and nod, not listening to what they’re saying, as you scan the venue for Deacon. When you find him, he’s standing beside Hondo. Hondo steps away, and Deacon’s eyes lock on yours, his brown eyes wide as his jaw clenches. The eye contact doesn’t last long; Deacon turns his back to you and disappears into the crowd. Your heart and smile fall, so the men surrounding you switch tactics, openly complimenting you, though most of it doesn’t affect you in the slightest.

“Excuse me,” you mutter quietly, pushing between them to follow Deacon.

You deserve an explanation, and you’re going to get one. It takes a few minutes, but you find Deacon standing in front of a fireplace in what appears to be a private office off the back hallway.

“Deac?” you ask, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach.

Deacon doesn’t turn around, but he can see you in his mind (not that you ever leave), with your hair styled beautifully, an outfit that flatters you in every way, and glassy eyes and glossy lips. No matter what you’re wearing, street clothes, your uniform, or formal wear for a police gala, you always look perfect to Deacon. Tonight, though, you’re practically begging to be kissed breathless, to be adored, and if he looks at you, he won’t be able to restrain himself.

“What did I do?”

The question presents your insecurity and shyness, which take Deacon back to your first month when you could barely look him in the eye, and your answers had a five-word maximum. He rubs his hand down his face, hearing you shift behind him.

“Please tell me what I did to make you do this,” you plead.

“You didn’t do anything, I’m just working through some things,” he answers carefully, his back to you. “No big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal then why am I losing you over it?” you snap, your growing anger overpowering your sadness and nervousness.

“You’re not losing me,” Deacon says, sighing.

“It sure feels like it, David.”

You never use his first name, and the moment Deacon hears it, he turns around. He sees you and loses some of his jealousy and anger but says what he needs to anyway.

“I just needed some space to think,” he replies. “Is that wrong?”

“Needing space to think and avoiding me are two different things.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you-“

“Then why did you leave? Why haven’t you said more than fifteen words to me in the last two days?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at first?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. He regrets the question immediately but can’t apologize before you speak again.

“If this is what talking to you is going to be like from now on, maybe I never should have started,” you admit, dropping your head as tears gather at your waterline.

“You don’t mean that,” Deacon says quietly.

“Just tell me why. Tell me the truth.”

Deacon doesn’t say anything, and you bite your bottom lip as you think. Deacon wants nothing more than to grab your face, tug your lip free, and kiss you until you don’t talk to him, not because he created a rift between you but because he steals your breath. You’re all he’s ever wanted and more, but the idea still terrifies him. The rejection alone could kill him, but having to see you at work would be worse.

“If you want me to join another team or something, tell me,” you demand. “But I deserve to know why you decided I wasn’t worth the lack of space.”

Deacon’s eyes race to find yours. “This is not about your worth,” he answers, anger spilling through. Not at you, though; at himself, at the situation he put you in, and at those officers who have a chance at what he craves most.

“Then why are you acting like you hate being near me?”

“Because I cannot lose another person I love!” he yells.

You freeze, unable to form a reply. Deacon takes a deep breath when he realizes what he confessed. Your silence is worse than yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“I love you too,” you whisper, a single tear breaking free when you smile. “I’m in love with you.”

Deacon steps forward, closing the physical and emotional gap. Taking your left hand, he raises his to wipe your tears. His hand lingers by your face as you smile up at him.

“I was jealous,” he explains. “Those cops were flirting with you yesterday and you looked happy. They’re closer to your age and you have more in common. It made sense for you to go for them, not me.”

“Deacon, I was uncomfortable, not happy. I turned around to find you and you were gone and then you just kept getting further away. I want you, Deacon Kay. No one else.”

“Care to dance with me?” he asks quietly.

“I’d love to. I’ve been wanting to all week,” you answer.

His smile grows, drawing your attention to his eyes as he leads you back to the ballroom. You don’t see any members of your team as you walk onto the dance floor. Deacon leads, letting you lean on him again, something you missed in the short time it was gone. The song ends, and you straighten, preparing to pull away.

“I want you too,” Deacon says. “But I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you encourage, smiling as you tap his hand twice.

Deacon smiles and pulls his hands from yours, cupping your face and kissing you without hesitation. You slide your hands up his chest to rest under his lapel. Deacon feels your heart race, his thumb against the pulse point below your jaw, but his beats steadily below your hand. With each of Deacon’s movements, more of your breath, more of your life, more of you becomes his.

“Aye, Deac!” Luca yells from the crowd. “Way to go!”

“About time!” Street adds, leading a round of applause from the entire LAPD.

Deacon pulls back from you, smiling when you hide your face against his neck. He sees the flirty cops from earlier awkwardly clapping with the crowd. His hand rubs up and down your back, glad that everyone, you included, knows that you’re his and he is yours.

“Told you,” Hondo teases as he walks to Deacon’s side. “Green ain’t your color.”

“He only means figuratively, you look good in everything,” you mumble against his skin.

“Want to get out of here?” Deacon asks, his hands still on your back as he holds you against him.

“Please,” you reply, tapping his chest twice.

He leads you out, stopping you after you’re outside.

“Why do you tap me twice?” Deacon asks gently, his arm around your waist and his jacket over your shoulders.

“It’s the only way I could tell you without actually saying it,” you say with a shrug.

“Say what?”

“That I love you.”

Deacon smiles, tapping your waist twice as he moves you to stand closer to him.

His lips meet yours again, and when your hands reach his jaw, you’re not sure where you end or Deacon begins, and it’s perfect. Deacon Kay was easy to fall in love with, easy to be in love with, and he was absolutely worth the wait.

[luboy7rt]

How Team GHOST Would React To You Being Brainwashed (Headcanons) (GN reader) (Elias, Hesh, Logan, Merrick, Keegan and Kick and Riley)

(Note: This is just what I (My headcanons), enjoy reading!)(Could be seen as Platonic, Romantic?)

(Reader is in the infirmary after the Federation brainwashed you, after months of not seeing you, how would characters react to you being so different)

Elias Walker:

- Elias went silent as he sat in your infirmary room, his arms crossed firmly. Elias is a hit..  saddened, he knew Rorke before he got brainwashed.. he never wanted it to happen to someone he knew so well, someone he cherished.

- Elias stares into your dull eyes as he sat next to you, his jaw subtly clenched as he would force himself to give you a reassuring smile.

- Elias would talk, talk a lot despite the fact he never talked much, he would catch you up on everything and anything, telling you stories about the memories You have shared together that you might have been brainwashed to forget.

- Elias would simply spend time with you, your body chained down due to your Brainwashed state, but.. Elias wasn't able to ‘get over’ it, like he did with Rorke, He wasn't able to not visit you. He had a chance to help you, he was willing to spend his time doing so. He never got the chance to help Rorke, he regretted not trying more to save the man in the past… But the past was the past and you were his future, you were more important and the current, he decided to focus on the present.

- Elias would pull up your covers if you weren't able to or didn't/couldn't move due to your brainwashed state. Elias would personally care for you, and when he couldn't he ensured it was a trusted friend, teammate or medic to care for you.

- Elias would give you headpats, he gently murmurs when you flinch back due to the trauma you have experienced by being Brainwashed and tortured by the Federation. Elias would respect your space but also wants to gently get used to his touch again.

- He would read You stories, his voice is great for it. (If you are his child, or if he raised you it's because he wants to remember the good times… and make you remember that he's here. or He would hum a soft song he hummed to you when you were very young or maybe humming a song Ms Walker would always hum before she passed) Elias would even read out loud or hum gently even if you are sleeping, he saves the stories about Team Ghosts and stories about you, or the others for when you are awake and ‘listening’.

- Elias would be there for physical therapy, every moment, whenever you needed help but couldn't voice it. Elias would be there, and he gets really good at just guessing what you needed.

- Elias wants to be the first person you see in the day, not a medic, despite the fact he knows you have false memories, or your memories were messed with, he wanted that trust you once had for him, he wants you to understand you were safe with him.

- Elias gives you a forehead kiss when he arrives to your side and one before he leaves, just to make a habit form so you can expect affection from him or if you're not that close he would pat your head instead.

David ‘Hesh’ Walker:

- Hesh falls asleep on the infirmary bed next to you every night, emotionally exhausted as you were the first experience of someone he knew so well being brainwashed. Hesh would refuse to leave your side, willing to stay put until he knows you are aware again.

- He does cry when he gets frustrated, knowing you were in pain, knowing he couldn't help.. knowing your memories were messed with, he tries to hide it, but his hand is tightly holding yours. He's on his knees by your infirmary bed, his face buried into the mattress as he murmurs ‘I got you’, ‘you'll be alright’ multiple times over and over again.

- Hesh tries to encourage you, to get up.. to move about a tiny bit.. to strengthen your limbs once again. Hesh takes you walking around the base when you are mentally aware enough to not attack him or others.

- His hands gently clasped around yours, after days of ‘waiting’ for something.. anything from you. Hesh began speaking to you, rambling on about any topic he could think of. Trying to comfort you so he talks about any topic that you had brought up to him before you went missing, it could be about a hobby you were telling him about or a story, or anything. He remembers, and will remember for you until you could hold onto the memories again.

- Hesh usually re-does your bandages, ensuring your wounds are disinfected and bandaged in clean bandages. He asked a medic to show him the ‘right way’, (he knew how to do this already, but asked the medic anyway to ensure he did it right). Hesh does this so you can get used to his touch once again, he flinches when you flinch at his touch because he isn't used to you flinching because of him.

- Hesh sneaks in your favorite snacks for you, despite the fact you weren't supposed to eat it, but he did sneak it in for a bed-time snack, trying to coax you with your favorite snack, so maybe it would trigger the memories of all the nice times you both have shared over snacks.

- He watches movies with you, Hesh didn't really care he was uncomfortably curled up in the chair next to your infirmary bed, ends up with Riley on his lap so you three could watch movies together while you recover.

- He tends to get frustrated and cry, but only a tiny bit, a few tears slipping from his eyes when he watches you, his heart hurt for you. Of course, he has seen a lot in his time as a soldier, he lost many friends, but he hadn't ‘lost’ someone like this before. He wanted to protect You but he couldn't figure out how.

Logan Walker:

- Logan didn't react much physically to the news you were back at base, back in the infirmary. He was told what had happened to you.. But he didn't visit at first, letting the rest of the Ghosts members visit you.

- He did visit at night though, when there wasn't supposed to be visitors, he snuck in. Silently sitting on the edge of your infirmary back, staring back at your dull eyes. At first he was surprised you were awake but he simply sat there.. so you wouldn't have to be alone again.

- Logan would stay the whole night, tapping your arm.. He ignored if you flinched, he understood what happened to those who have been brainwashed by the Federation. He tries to respect your space, doing just soft taps to let you know he was there every once in a while.

- Logan formed a habit to spend every night in your infirmary room, as if he was ‘guarding’ it for you. Ensuring no one came in, no matter how many times Elias tells him to allow you to sleep.. He does, but he's going to be around while you do.

- Logan simply wants to protect you, ensuring the Federation couldn't get you again, even though there is a slim chance of anyone getting into HQ, he likes to think it eases your mind, even if you couldn't or didn't voice it. 

- He'd sit there for hours, moving to sit next to you.. sometimes he would lay his head on your forearm, to sleep near you. Sometimes he would shift his head onto your chest to simply hear your heartbeat to ensure you were alive.

- Mentally Logan is breaking down, unable to handle the fact you were no longer the you he knew well. Not taking well to the fact your memories were messed with, so he tries to make you remember, using the rare photos he has of you and the team to try and show you.

Keegan P. Russ:

- Keegan broke in the moment he got word of your return, scaring all the medics as he kicked down the door (he didn't have to, it was unlocked, but he didn't realize It) as he stormed in. He would say your name, as he walked over to you. He sorta aggressively grabbed your shirt, to check your now bandaged wounds, just simply checking you over himself to just see you were alright, his gloved hands firmly checking over each of your now bandaged wounds.

- After a bit, he would grumble and sigh as grab the chair to the side, dragging it, the noise being loud, if you flinch he would place his hand on over your collarbones as if to keep you down, murmuring a soft shush as he did so.

- His hand would hold yours, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles as he would ensure no one else was around before being a bit affectionate with you. “You better be fuckin’ alright” Keegan would mutter under his breath.

- His hand stays firmly on your body, your chest, your arm. Your hand, he doesn’t care if you're brainwashed, he silently cares that you're alive. He’s willing to put up with you, he didn’t need you to remember (despite the fact, that he silently wishes for you to), he just needs you to be aware he’s there. Silently holding you, protecting you. He won’t admit it out loud, but all his actions while being around you are to protect you from further harm.

- He stays with you for a few hours every day. Leaving for missions when he needs to but he always usually returns to your side to inform you about his day. Aggressively challenges you, pissing you off with his snide comments, riling you up to do something.. anything. That's all he wanted, to get you back to your usual self.

- He would.. be a bit more patient than usual, sighing as he settles in the chair next to you. Ends up with his legs kicked up on your bed, his hand tightly holding yours, murmuring insults under his breath at the world.

- He would end up putting your favorite shows on, informing you of anything you couldn't remember, he knows it all. You're favorite character, favorite moment, anything you question about yourself, he probably knows it. 

- He plays music too, any music you like. As if trying to subconsciously make you remember anything. He would mutter the lyrics under his breath, having learned any songs you used to like in the time you weren't around. 

- His hand rests on your chest, feeling your heartbeat. He silently counts along to it, to ensure you were alive, well, and your heartbeat was beating at a decent pace.

- Keegan was willing to get you revenge as well, working his body to its limits on every mission to get rid of any Federation soldier in his path, he cared for his teammates a lot, and knowing what you went through, he would make them regret it

- Keegan is angry, angry at the world, the Federation.. Maybe a bit at you, despite knowing it was stupid. It wasn’t your fault you were captured, maybe he was also angry at himself, but he simply kept that anger for himself and any Federation soldiers he comes across in the future.

Thomas A. Merrick

- Merrick is surprisingly gentle, his hand resting on your shoulder as he sits on the chair next to your infirmary bed. He shifted the binders of work he needed to do on the floor by his seat as he checks up on you. 

- He tends to just quietly work by your side. It was a win-win for him, he gets to stay by your side while also finishing up on work. Sometimes he would talk when you are awake. Sometimes just telling you about things you had missed while gone for the months you were tortured and brainwashed.

- He would also apologize for all that you went through, he feels bad. He understands he couldn't control what happened but he regretted not moving fast enough to save you.

- Merrick would check up on you as well, checking your bandages, it's not that he didn't trust the medics, he did. But he felt like sometimes he just had to see for himself you were okay.

- He would be there, he would call himself stupid if he wasn't, he liked just talking to you, it reminded him of what your relationship was like before you were brainwashed..  or just talking to you. He didn't need you to speak back if you didn't feel like it, or couldn't.

- He would take you on walks, leading the way, or showing you around HQ again, even if you couldn't remember the way around. Merrick gladly will show you around, as many times as you need. He would also remind you of funny stories, and explain where it took place to try and get you to remember.

- Merrick is saddened and pissed off, but he understands, he couldn’t be sad forever. Yes, he will grieve the past version of you that he knew very well. But he simply kept that quiet and helped you recover. Merrick knew he would like the you, you are despite you being brainwashed, and he will continue to support you through it all. But on the field? Suddenly he gets more scary, yelling a lot more, and aggressively taking out Federation soldiers.

Kick:

- Kick is there, by your side while he has a break in his work, his hand firmly holding your forearm as if to ensure he doesn't ‘lose’ you again. He doesn't talk the first few days of your return, he glances away when your dull eyes meet his.

- He would also pick up one of your hobbies, even if you forgot all about it, if it was a video game, he would play the game and remind you all about it, what you liked, which characters you liked, show you your account and make his own. If you liked drawing, he would attempt to get into it. Basically just picks up any hobbies you had, to try and re-teach you, wanting to see the passion/love you had for it return.

- He’s a bit overbearing, wanting to see everything, every injury, every one who enters your room, he just wants to ensure you are okay.

- He uses a military drone to ‘entertain’ you, even if you don't react much and just watch, he's happy, talking you through his own hobbies for hours at a time. He just is trying to spend time with you, he almost lost you, and he wouldn't take his time for granted anymore.

- His hand is usually resting on you, your shoulder, forearm, knee anywhere you feel comfortable with. 

- He would sometimes tell you about his day, or something stupid Logan and Hesh have done as of late. 

- He would sneak in food, whatever you liked before getting brainwashed, he would cook it himself for you, the cost doesn't matter, if you liked it, he buys or cooks it. Leaves a note that he did indeed bring you food for the medics incase they needed to know but he does it before he leaves so the he doesn't have to face the medics.

- He also brings you your stuff, things you liked or like to do, will bring you books, papers, yarn anything really you want or can do. 

- He frowns when you don't react to the things he brings, as he sees you don't have the passion for any thing you used to like. He doesn't like seeing you.. Brainwashed, doesn't like that you don't respond, and only respond to orders. He will be here while you heal, understanding you would never be the same person he once knew.

- He tries to hype you up, oh you sat up for the first time since getting back? He's hyping you up, you talk for the first time since being tortured, you got this! He's hyping you up every step of the way on your journey to heal.

- He’ll do something stupid just to see you smile, he would make Logan and Hesh do something stupider to just see you smile, encourages stupid shit to Logan and Hesh, saying that yeah.. that would make you smile. But ends up just laughing at the two, and using them as his own amusement while ensuring he would be by your side the whole time.

Riley: (Honorary Dog mention) 

- Riley is sat by the side of your bed when he isn't with Hesh, firmly sat there to protect You.

- Barks for medics when you ‘need’ it, swiftly learns that when your hand brushes against his tail, he needs to bark loudly for a medic to check up on you.

- He waits for you to be ‘better’ so he could get you to play fetch with him, but for now.. until you heal, he is willing to wait by your side. 

- After a few months of your healing journey, Riley sets up to lay on the bottom of your bed instead of on the floor.. flops his head by your handcuffed hand so you can pet him.

- Riley is very loyal, staying put for hours at a time, when he wakes up, his eyes glance at you. To ensure you were alive, awake, and aware. If you sleep too long he chomps (lightly) on your hand to wake you up.. if you don't, Riley goes running off to the first Ghosts member he could find to drag them over to you.

[maria-from-ga]

I can't believe Teen Titans is officially 20 years old today. My favorite animated show and one of the best imo. It got me through a lot of shit & means the world to me

Starfire- the Heart

My favorite character on Teen Titans, and still my favorite hero.

A joyful person who loved the world around despite its cruelty. An immigrant who loved her culture yet always struggled w/ her sense of place and being an outsider like me. Her journey becoming more sure of herself & her place & an advocate for other outsiders like Red Star is beautiful one.

Cyborg- The Lynchpin

A extroverted, disabled black hero who had a deep internal struggle to accept that his disability doesn't contradict, but strengthens his humanity

His main arc on what it means to be a 'man' - that he doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone but instead be sure of himself. As a black hero, his defiance being rewarded, not shamed, resulting in victory in the end is still one of my favorites TT03 arcs

Raven- The Inspiration

When I was younger, I was embarrassed to admit how much I was like Raven bc I hated feeling like a closed-off outcast.

But now understanding Raven as a closed-off person who hid her emotions in spite of how she cared (which was the most out of anyone) to protect everyone. Who constantly fought for good despite being deemed a curse bc she hoped for better- Raven is an inspiration

Her journey to accept her emotions & forge her own destiny and not give into despair is one of the best arcs in all animation

Beast Boy, the Wild Card

To be honest, I despise his immaturity when I was younger.

Now I know he was just a kid trying to be happy despite his hardships (like terrible parentals & Terra).

His season of growing up, learning to let go, and building a team of underrated/inexperienced heroes like himself to defeat Brotherhood of Evil against all odds when all hope was lost was peak

Robin- the Leader

Finally, the Boy Wonder, what else is there to say?

A character so flawed, struggling w/ anger, darkness, and obsessiveness, but will go to war for his friends, & sacrifice all for those he loved.

Learning to let people in and that he can be more than hero. Best Robin adaptation we have seen.

Not just the core 5, but the entire Titans family was amazing. Characters who left an impact despite limited screentime. Más y Menos, Thunder and Lightning, Titans East, Speedy, Hotspot, Kole, and too many to name. With the best Bumblebee we have ever had in any media.

Thank you so much to Glen Murakami, David Slack, Amy Wolfram, Sam Register, Derrick Wyatt (RIP), Scott Menville, Hynden Walch, Khary Payton, Tara Strong, Greg Cipes, and so many countless others in the cast & crew for giving this to me and so many others.

Forever grateful for the Titans' stories & memories & for Robin, Cyborg, Starfire, Raven, and Beast Boy

[hellostickycollectionpeanutfan]

CHAP2EP12 SPOILERS

"teruko clocked david"

teruko's point was wholly based on david only knowing xander for a couple of days, which david himself "debunked" by flippantly bringing up him remembering pre-game/school-year???/famous activist xander. david is VERY convinced that he knows xander('s heart) super well so clearly those memories must have been so fricking strong and real that they were enough to move david and strengthen his faith in xander.

"hu humbled david"

she told him that he could kill himself but could not bring everyone else down with him. this was david's reaction:

that is not the face of a man who's been humbled. that's the expression of a deeply determined individual who no longer recognizes any obstacle. he will try to end the killing game no matter what and he will most likely die trying.

i love all of these characters. insane cast. incredibly entertaining. teruko and hu have been the modest pillars of this series for me as i believe they tidy things up really nicely and have some good outbursts but i also find the viewers' reactions to their rants against david really funny. it's only "clocking" if you're being read for filth. it's only "humbling" if you're being put in your place in a way that matters to you. no one has truly ended david yet. can't wait to see who finally does it

[hanausaberry]

Golden Dawn Headcanons

(because i wish they had more growth with yunos character)

i've always felt a bit disappointed with how wrong tabata did the Golden Dawn, since I felt like they should've gotten some spotlight at one point because Yuno is literally the deuteragonist in Black Clover. like maybe get to know some of the characters like how he did with asta and the black bulls?? there isn't much about them so im just sooo curious ..

anyways off w the headcanons!

(starting off with some angst first i guess..?)

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

♧ i'm guessing they had around 30-50 members at most, and after the massacre the golden dawn was probably left with 25 members. and, after what happened, and after the battle with the dark triad, some of the surviving members left the golden dawn due to the traumatic event that happened to them. (either joining another squad if allowed too or just starting a new career.)

♧ after the whole massacre thing many of the squad's members were left with scars , emotionally and physically . it definitely took a while for the whole group to come together again. the loss of half of their squad members took a very serious toll on their heart. specifically mimosa. after hearing about what happened, she probably had a breakdown because she wasn't there to protect her squad.

♧ days after william was taken away, yuno couldn't sleep at ALL. (his eyes looked so exhausted in the manga..) he would visit his injured squadmates almost everyday.

♧ to add up to that last headcanon, yuno would train and train until he was onto the brink of passing out just so he could defeat zenon. he definitely overworked himself.

♧ david was also guilty as well, practically all of the members were. he cursed to himself that he should've been stronger during that unfortunate event. letoile was heart-broken, almost planning to quit being a magic knight, but the disappearance of her captain gave her hope to not give up, because she and other members of her Squad wanted to save Vangeance. They HAD to.

♧ alecdora is known for his stern personality, but after he failed to save his captain, he was distraught. like yuno, he could barely get any sleep.

♧ when langris asked yuno if he could train with him to defeat the dark triad (zenon specifically) , klaus, letoile, and david most definitely joined. they desired to strengthen their abilitiee so they could save their captain. (even though patry was the one to save william, it makes sense though..)

♧ klaus noticed yuno's drowsiness, so he would force him to get some rest out of worriness. but yuno always declined, responding to him that "rest isn't important right now. it's defeating zenon and the dark triad."

♧ after the battle was over, william tried to stay strong for the rest of the Golden Dawn members, however he ended up falling to his knees at their newly rebuilt refectory and sobbing, letting his bottled up emotions spill. this resulted in their members to quickly try and help him get up, but because of the grief dwelling within the squad, they also ended up crying with him. this lasted for about 20 minutes..

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

( those were long ass headcanons so lets move on to the chaotic and happy ones.)

♧ the golden dawn is known for their high prestige and nobility, the most "powerful" squad among the other magic knight brigades. but what the citizens of clover don't know is how secretly chaotic the golden dawn is. their basically the black bulls, just more sophisticated.

♧ i headcanon that when david first joined the golden dawn the base was in shambles because he kept playing pranks on the other members with his 🎲 magic..

♧ the members got so annoyed, especially alecdora. this resulted in them to asking william into strapping the boy down with his tree magic. (he declined duh, he just told david to stop and he listened 😭)

♧ david was basically the blue print of the chaoticness in the golden dawn. once he almost gambled his grimoire away until letoile stopped him. (he still lost it anyway the next day after because his stupid ahh thought that if he did he'll get an infinite amount of oranges. idc what anyone says. hes obsessed with oranges.)

♧ then there was basically a goose chase known as, "the disappearance of david swallowtail's grimoire." and it took two days for the squad to capture the person who got david's grimoire and get it back.

♧ the squad's definitely split into two sides of seriousness and cheerfulness 😭. this would lead into a lot of arguments especially when their eating.

♧ every member of the squad would have to have a secret stack of food with them because of hamon. im telling u if hamon sees or atleast smells food he's SNATCHING IT.

♧ their squad would always be packed with missions so it's hard for all of them to get together, so some of the members don't actually know each other much then they'd like too.

♧ you know that garden or field they have in their base? they definitely hangout there during their free days. it would give a sense of home and comfortness.

♧ every once in a while the golden dawn squad does these fashion shows (I CALL IT!) , and yuno, mimosa, or letoile would always end up winning. everyone votes david for last place because he never takes the themes seriously 😭

♧ one of the female members in the squad probably set up a trap spell along the girl's dormitories like what vanessa did with her thread magic because of a specific SOMEONE. (Ahem david. he's always sneaking into every room and drawing beards on their faces.. maybe with hamon too..)

♧ you guys know that red haired golden dawn member who has a crush on yuno? (to be honest, it's kinda more implied on the anime since i never saw the crush thing pop up in the manga, but lets forget thatt..) her squad mates would definitely tease her for it despite some of the other girls in her squad also having a crush on him.

♧ once david annoyed her too much about yuno and she ended up beating him up 😰.

this is her ^ v ^! she's so pretty i wish tabata gave her a name.. anyways thats all im WAY too lazy for this.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Guy Parsons

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 17, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 18, 2024

In a new rule released yesterday, the Federal Trade Commission requires sellers to make it as easy to cancel a subscription to a gym or a service as it is to sign up for one. In a statement, FTC chair Lina Khan explained the reasoning behind the “click-to-cancel” rule: “Too often, businesses make people jump through endless hoops just to cancel a subscription,” she said. “Nobody should be stuck paying for a service they no longer want.” Although most of the new requirements won’t take effect for about six months, David Dayen of The American Prospect noted that the stock price of Planet Fitness fell 8% after the announcement. 

When he took office in January 2021, with democracy under siege from autocratic governments abroad and an authoritarian movement at home, President Joe Biden set out to prove that democracy could deliver for the ordinary people who had lost faith in it. The click-to-cancel rule is an illustration of an obvious and long-overdue protection, but it is only one of many ways—$35 insulin, new bridges, loan forgiveness, higher wages, good jobs—in which policies designed to benefit ordinary people have demonstrated that a democratic government can improve lives.

When Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen spoke to the Council on Foreign Relations yesterday, she noted that the administration “has driven a historic economic recovery” with strong growth, very low unemployment rates, and inflation returning to normal. Now it is focused on lowering costs for families and expanding the economy while reducing inequality. That strong economy at home is helping to power the global economy, Yellen noted, and the U.S. has been working to strengthen that economy by reinforcing global policies, investments, and institutions that reinforce economic stability. 

“Over the past four years, the world has been through a lot,” Yellen said, “from a once-in-a-century pandemic, to the largest land war in Europe since World War II, to increasingly frequent and severe climate disasters. This has only underlined that we are all in it together. America’s economic well-being depends on the world’s, and America’s economic leadership is key to global prosperity and security.” She warned against isolationism that would undermine such prosperity both at home and abroad.

The numbers behind the proven experience that government protection of ordinary people is good for economic growth got the blessing of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences on Monday, when it awarded the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences to Daron Acemoglu and Simon Johnson, both of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and to James Robinson of the University of Chicago. Their research explains why “[s]ocieties with a poor rule of law and institutions that exploit the population do not generate growth or change for the better,” while democracies do.   

Although democracy has been delivering for Americans, Donald Trump and MAGAs rose to power by convincing those left behind by 40 years of supply-side economics that their problem was not the people in charge of the government, but rather the government itself. 

Trump wants to get rid of the current government so that he can enrich himself, do whatever he wants to his enemies, and avoid answering to the law. The Christian nationalists who wrote Project 2025 want to destroy the federal government so they can put in place an authoritarian who will force Americans to live under religious rule. Tech elites like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel want to get rid of the federal government so they can control the future without having to worry about regulations. 

In place of what they insist is a democratic system that has failed, they are offering a strongman who, they claim, will take care of people more efficiently than a democratic government can. The focus on masculinity and portrayals of Trump as a muscled hero‚ much as Russian president Vladimir Putin portrays himself, fit the mold of an authoritarian leader.

But the argument that Americans need a strongman depends on the argument that democracy does not work. In the last three-and-a-half years, Biden, Vice President Kamala Harris, and the Democrats have proved that it can, so long as it operates with the best interests of ordinary people in mind. Trump and Vance’s outlandish lies about the federal response to Hurricane Helene are designed to override the reality of a competent administration addressing a crisis with all the tools it has. In its place, the lies provide a false narrative of federal officials ignoring people and trying to steal their property.  

Their attack on democracy has another problem, as well. In addition to the reality that democracy has been delivering for Americans for more than three years now—and pretty dramatically—Trump is no longer a strongman. Vice President Kamala Harris is outperforming  him in the theater of political dominance. And as she does so, his image is crumbling.

In an article in US News and World Report yesterday, NBC’s former chief marketer John D. Miller apologized to America for helping to “create a monster.” Miller led the team that marketed The Apprentice, the reality TV show that made Trump a household name. “To sell the show,” Miller wrote, “we created the narrative that Trump was a super-successful businessman who lived like royalty.” But the truth was that he declared bankruptcy six times, and “[t]he imposing board room where he famously fired contestants was a set, because his real boardroom was too old and shabby for TV,” Miller wrote. While Trump loved the attention the show provided, “more successful CEOs were too busy to get involved in reality TV.” 

Miller says they “promoted the show relentlessly,” blanketing the country with a “highly exaggerated” image of Trump as a successful businessman “like a heavy snowstorm.” “[W]e…did irreparable harm by creating the false image of Trump as a successful leader,” Miller wrote. “I deeply regret that. And I regret that it has taken me so long to go public.” 

Speaking as a “born-and-bred Republican,” Miller warned: “If you believe that Trump will be better for you or better for the country, that is an illusion, much like The Apprentice was.” He strongly urged people to vote for Kamala Harris. “The country will be better off and so will you.” 

A new video shown last night on Jimmy Kimmel Live even more powerfully illustrated the collapse of Trump’s tough guy image. Written by Jesse Joyce of Comedy Central, the two-minute video featured actor and retired professional wrestler Dave Bautista dominating his sparring partner in a boxing ring and then telling those who think Trump is “some sort of tough guy” that “he’s not.” 

Working out in a gym, Bautista insults Trump’s heavy makeup, out-of-shape body, draft dodging, and physical weakness, and notes that “he sells imaginary baseball cards pretending to be a cowboy fireman” when “he’s barely strong enough to hold an umbrella.” Bautista says Trump’s two-handed method of drinking water looks “like a little pink chickadee,” and goes on to make a raunchy observation about Trump’s stage dancing. “He’s moody, he pouts, he throws tantrums,” Bautista goes on. “He’s cattier on social media than a middle-school mean girl.”

Bautista ends by listing Trump’s fears of rain, dogs, windmills…and being laughed at.” “And mostly,” Bautista concludes, “he’s terrified that real, red-blooded American men will find out that he’s a weak, tubby toddler.” Calling Trump a “whiny b*tch,” Bautista walks away from the camera. 

The sketch was billed as comedy, but it was deadly serious in its takedown of the key element of Trump’s political power.

And he seems vulnerable. Forbes and Newsweek have recently questioned his mental health; yesterday the Boston Globe ran an op-ed saying, “Trump’s decline is too dangerous to ignore. We can see the decline in the former president’s ability to hold a train of thought, speak coherently, or demonstrate a command of the English language, to say nothing of policy.” 

Trump’s Fox News Channel town hall yesterday got 2.9 million viewers; Harris’s interview got 7.1 million. Today, Trump canceled yet another appearance, this one with the National Rifle Association in Savannah, Georgia, scheduled for October 22, where he was supposed to be the keynote speaker.

Meanwhile, Vice President Harris today held rallies in Milwaukee, Green Bay, and La Crosse, Wisconsin. In La Crosse, MAGA hecklers tried to interrupt her while she was speaking about the centrality of the three Trump-appointed Supreme Court justices to the overturning of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision that recognized the constitutional right to abortion. 

“Oh, you guys are at the wrong rally,” Harris called to them with a smile and a wave. As the crowd roared with approval, she added: “No, I think you meant to go to the smaller one down the street.” 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[despazito]

wish script doctor bc i feel like this movie could've been a lot stronger with some things altered. like i dont even think it needs a complete story overhaul, a handful of changes could make it much tighter imo

asha does not live so close to central rosas, but a village on the outskirts of the kingdom, and this will be her first time venturing to see the mythical king in person.

not all wishes are equal in this magic system. selfish and shallow wishes do not contain much power, but noble and selfless wishes are very strong. (also i don't see the point of forgetting your wish you made?)

the grandad was animated way too in shape for 100 years old, make him weaker and frail. hell, put him on his death bed to raise the stakes.

perhaps have asha's grandfather be an esteemed but very humble scholar or medicine healer whose dying wish is to establish a library or hospital for the local people (or something). asha believes that if she meets with king magnifico herself, she can convince him to grant her grandfathers' wish. she believes she can do this because an old childhood friend of hers now works in the castle as his aid.

asha travels to rosas and meets her friend dahlia. expecting her to be very close to the king, dahlia sheepishly admits to being a much lower ranked servant who hardly ever sees the king in person, but still sneaks asha in to show her around the castle because she's such a fan of magnifico + introduce asha to all her friends/coworkers.

have dahlia be the only primary friend, relegate the rest of the lot to the background. we don't need much time with them all, use it to strengthen other relationships.

asha attends a wish granting ceremony and magnifico does not grant grandad's wish. after the event asha uses a sneaky corridor that she just learnt to ambush magnifico and plead her case to him. away from the crowd he goes mask off and tells her to fuck off, asha narrowly escapes his guards.

defeated, she sings her I Wish song and we meet the star.

instead of the short guy, have valentino play the grouchy foil. valentino hates the star, and they have slapstick together. hell if disney wants to be meta, have him resent the star for turning him into a funny talking animal or something.

dahlia is the only one who believes asha when she tells her about meeting the wishing star. the other friends think she's some kind of lunatic from out of town until they see the star for themselves.

have queen amaya be equally self absorbed as king magnifico and together act as an evil couple like in the concept art. she enjoys the luxury of being a self-made monarch and throws lavish balls and pampers her shitty cats or something. make them evil and campy together like mink stole and david lochary in a john waters film (we've had a villain based on divine, now its their turn)

alternatively, amaya can still have a redemption, but later on in the third act. perhaps she's vain and perfectly content with a certain level of fraud until magnifico crosses a line. have magnifico explain to her long ago that he gets strength from the wishes, but he only culls the shitty wishes bad people make. amaya thinks its reasonable that he crushes the wishes of bad people and people who "deserve" it. but selfish wishes aren't as powerful, and as magnifico begins to crave more and more power, he begins taking more innocent wishes to power himself. maybe he finally crushes the wish of some sick kid or asha's grandfather and that finally snaps amaya into realizing what they're doing has become completely irredeemable. i know disney is allergic to writing romance now so have asha stay single and instead take some time to explore this romantic relationship.

asha & co. defeat magnifico with the power of friendship or whatever, maybe even have the final final part of the battle be between magnifico vs amaya as asha rushes to care for her grandfather after his wish was just crushed. or magnifico goes full magical sorcerer and explodes asha's family home or something

everyone in rosas realizes they don't need magnifico to live their dreams and together (with some pitching in from a now queen-regent amaya) asha is able to build the library/school/hospital/insert public service building her grandad always wanted. amaya hangs the magnifico mirror above her cats' litter boxes. the end

[elisysd]

The List – Maisie Peters

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So can you talk? You know I'm stacking up Until the night I'm not enough And you're just someone else I disappoint

Monaco was becoming bearable to Lyanna. She wouldn’t say that she liked the city, but she was warming up to it. There was something special in its air. In the span of three weeks, she managed to make two new friends. Charles obviously, she was starting to see him as a friend more than an acquaintance, and Kika. They instantly clicked during the dinner at Charles’. They had so many things in common. They both loved fashion, old movies that no one knew about, and random facts about animals. They were both career oriented and pretty independent. They quickly exchanged their phone numbers and promised each other to stay in touch and to organize something if they both landed to be in the same place at the same time.

As for Pierre, she didn’t have much time to get to know him. Truth be told, he was intimidating to Lyanna. He had such a big persona. The way he carried himself with such confidence was something she admired. If only she could be a little more like that. But she knew that she could learn to be his friend, at some point. After all, they had a huge common point, as they were both French. Obviously, this brought them closer.

Lyanna also admired Kika and Pierre’s relationship. They were like two sides of the same coin. They were laughing at the same things, finishing each other sentences and had the exact same look on their faces whenever they were looking at each other. It was cute. When she shared her thoughts with Kika, the young woman had admitted that it was not that easy at the beginning. She got a lot of hate because of the age gap between them. She felt alone but Pierre had never given up on her. He could have, it could have been easier. The hate was strong and she knew that it had also been a difficult time from the Frenchman. But in the end the experience had only strengthened their feelings for each other. Somehow, she was glad that it happened this way. Now it was okay, she was still receiving nasty comments from time to time, but it was easier to manage.

Naturally Kika had asked to Lyanna if she had someone special in her life, to what the actress had confessed that she didn’t have the time to date. She wanted to focus on her career, that was the most important thing to her. She had been single for three years now, and she was fine with it. She was still learning to appreciate her own company.

“My last relationship ended up with my heart shattered in pieces and a psychotherapy that is still ongoing. I don’t want to go through that again. I’m fine with me being alone. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be.”

“Yeah obviously. But still, wouldn’t you like to have someone you know you’re going home to?” asked Kika.

“I don’t even know what home is. I’m always away. I’m renting an apartment in London that I barely occupy; you know. I’m living more in my suitcases than in my place. And it’s fine, I chose it. I don’t regret it.”

“As cliché as it’s going to sound, sometime home is where the heart is.” Kika murmured, her head naturally turning to Pierre.

That night, Lyanna fell asleep with a smile on her face. It had not happened for a long time.

The days passed again. Lyanna had started filming and it was going relatively well. A little better than she had expected. David continued to behave like a total moron and some of his remarks towards Lyanna were inappropriate, but the young woman didn't pay much attention to them. She knew how to put him in his place when he needed to be put in his place, and even if this sometimes weighed on her, it did not make the atmosphere on the set intolerable. But she was wary anyway, she couldn't shake off that sick feeling in her stomach every time she met his eyes when the cameras were off. 

But after a few weeks of working almost non-stop she finally had a break. She was not needed for the next three days and she was looking forward to a good sleep and doing nothing. On her way back she met Charles who was heading back from his evening run. Naturally, she asked him if he wanted to hang out, she had become accustomed to the presence of the driver in her life.

“Since you're free tomorrow, would you like to come with me so I can show you the most beautiful view of Monaco?” He offered her.

She accepted with great pleasure. However, what the Monegasque failed to mention was that he would be knocking on her door at dawn the next day.

“I knew you would have said no if I had told you that I would wake you up at 6am but trust me you won’t regret it.” He excused himself.

“Just like you oh so conveniently forgot to mention that we would have to walk. I hate exercising Charles!”

He just laughed while she tried to find in her bags and closet something appropriate for a hike. Once ready to go they headed to the underground parking lot to take Charles’ car. When they were both ready to go, Charles took a banana, a carton of juice and a croissant out of his backpack. No way was she going to walk on an empty stomach, he told her. The last thing he wanted was to have to walk back carrying her because she had a hypoglycemic episode.

“You would deserve that Leclerc. You woke me up to make me walk I don’t know for how long; you deserve all my grumpiness.” She told him.

And indeed, how grumpy she was. She decided to complain all the way. At some point Charles suspected that it was more to annoy him and tease him than real complains. For almost two hours they walked along the small footpath. Charles was ahead of Lyanna and had to stop often to check that the young woman was following him and had not turned back. When Lyanna wasn't stopping regularly to catch her breath, she was admiring the speed and ease with which Charles was moving.

Soon enough they finally reached their destination and Lyanna’s breath was taken away.

“Welcome to La Tête de Chien, the place where you can have the best view of Monaco” murmured Charles.

From where they were, they overlooked Monaco. They could see the Marina and its yachts and the mountains in the distance. The sun was not yet high in the sky and the air was breathable, so Lyanna understood better why Charles had insisted that they go there so early. There was something peaceful about this place.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” Lyanna said in awe.

Charles smiled gently and his hands in his pockets he approached the edge of the path and sat down on the small wall, motioning Lyanna to do the same. She looked like a little kid to him, trying to see everything all at once and absorbing every little detail.

“I want to stay here forever.”

Charles felt a sense of pride but didn’t mention it. There was something really beautiful about watching Lyanna truly appreciate Monaco for the first time and he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment. Instead he took his phone out and took a picture of the view before posting it as a story on Instagram. He also took a picture of is friend while she was not looking. He wanted to keep a trace of the instant.

Lyanna decided to do the same. It was time to announce that she was shooting a new movie and what better way to do it than by showing this beautiful view. A story with a quick caption would be enough, she didn’t need to do more. The marketing team of the movie would be a better job than her but still, she liked to keep people up to date with what she was working on.

What they both did not know at the moment and did not expect was that two simple stories would make everything go downhill.

Twenty-four hours after the hike, Lyanna received an unexpected call from her agent. Sophie never called her when she was shooting a movie and when her name popped out on Lyanna’s phone, she immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Do I have to sit for what you’re about to announce me?”

“Lya, good to hear you. And no, I don’t think so. But we have a B type problem on the way.”

A B type problem meant that it was related to Lyanna’s private life and that it was still under control. It was more like rumors and it didn’t involve the press. Yet. In that case it was a A type problem and signified that Lyanna’s privacy was going to be deeply impacted and turned into a shitshow. But still, B type was not good.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Do you by any chance, know the Ferrari racing driver Charles Leclerc?”

“How did you…”

“Someone on Twitter that is following both of you on Instagram pointed out that you posted the same landscapes at almost the same time. You can easily imagine wat they are deducing.”

Lyanna gulped. She didn’t imagine that something like that could happen. It was naive from her; she knew Charles was popular and she was too. Statistically, it was bound to happen that they would have followers in common.

“We are not dating, if it’s what you’re implying. We’re friends. He’s my neighbor actually, there’s nothing going on between us.” Justified Lyanna.

“You do what you want with who you want Lyanna, my job is not to monitor you. I’m just saying that for now it’s rumors, but you how fast things can escalate, I’m not going to teach you that. You do wat you want from this information. I’m just saying that he has a huge fanbase, he draws a lot of attention from the media, I checked him online. And I know how you feel about being involved with people like that.”

Another mistake that Lyanna did was that she never checked is social media presence. She should have, she could have but she never thought about it. She was not a social media person; it never crossed her mind to search Charles on Instagram or on Twitter or anywhere to be honest. She quickly typed his name on the Instagram search bar and almost choked when she saw the number of ten million followers. That was almost as much as her with her twelve million.

“Oh shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. A huge part of her valued er relationship with Charles. It made her feel good, she felt herself with him. Not Lyanna Michel, the actress, but just Lyanna. And it had been such a long time since that happened. But another part of her, smaller but more vicious could not help but reminder what happened the last time she was involved with someone famous and how it turned her life upside down and not in the good sense of the term.

From Charles’ end, it’s his little brother Arthur who taught him the rumor by texting him.

You didn’t tell me that you were involved with Carla’s favorite actress.

What do you mean??

Check Twitter.

And Charles did. And Charles first thought was, what did he do in a past life to be involved in two dating rumors in the span of a few weeks? His second thought was directed to Lyanna. He tried to call her but he went straight on her voicemail. He insisted two, three time but no answer. He texted her but no answers as well. He then went to her place. He knocked and waited but still, no answers. He insisted on knocking louder but nothing changed. And e knew she was there, he could hear noise from inside. She was shutting him out. And it made him upset.

“Lyanna, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Still nothing but if she wanted to be stubborn, so was Charles. Two could play that game.

“I won’t leave until you open this door. I will knock and knock again until you talk to me. I know you saw Twitter. We have to talk about it Lyanna.”

Finally she opened. A little, just a crack but enough for Charles to slip through the gap left by the opening. And then she was there, observing him, not saying one thing. It was like all the progress he made with her; all the trust that took a little time be built vanished. All of his work reduced to nothing. She was acting like a scaredy cat. She didn’t say a word to him.

“We’re friends Lyanna. Don’t shut me out.” He began.

“You are more famous than what I thought.”

Charles didn’t understand what she meant by that and how it was a problem.

“I’m still Charles. Famous or not. I didn’t change between yesterday and today.”

“You’re drawing attention. People have expectations. People are talking.”

She was rambling and on the verge of a panic attack. Naturally Charles made a move toward her but was surprised when she backed down.

“Lyanna, it’s not because that we are both under the public eye that we can’t be friends. We are human and human have friends.”

“I don’t want famous ones. I want my peace and quiet. Going out with you was a mistake. Posting on social media was a beginner mistake. Now, people are making up stuff.”

“I don’t care about what people think.”

“I do care!” She yelled. “I do care about my privacy being displayed online as entertainment, I will care when the press sees that as an opportunity to twist the truth and creates a story that I have no control over.”

“You can’t always control everything. You have to trust people. You have to trust me. We are both impacted here. I don’t care about the rumors; I only care about the truth and both you and I know it. And it’s enough. I won’t hide Lyanna. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want to do, no matter what people think. You should do the same, you have to. This is why you accepted to play Sally, right?”

“Well excuse me, but in the equation, I never thought to add going out with a celebrity.”

“Stop giving me that celebrity image Lyanna! I never thought of myself as such nor did I ever think of you the same way!” He snapped. “And I could have. But I didn’t because it’s not fair. I know you and…”

“That’s the thing Charles.” She cut him “You think you know me, but you don’t. We have known each other for what, three maybe four weeks. You can’t pretend to know me. Just like I can’t pretend that I know you.”

“Let me get to know you then. Let me know why you’re acting this way, let me know why you’re so scared that you don’t let me come near you! I want to Lyanna. But you don’t let me.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to! Maybe because if I told you all the twisted things I have been through, you would not understand and then you would leave me alone.”

“Don’t make this decision for me. Let me understand.”

“And for what? People leave when someone baggage is too heavy. And then what will I have left? Nothing. I won’t take that risk.”

“You’re not being fair. You have you own demons to face, I get that and I want to be there for you. But I won’t if you don’t help me understand. I can’t be a good friend then.”

“You would not understand Charles! Why are you so stubborn?”

The conversation was starting to be heated. Both of them refusing to meet halfway.

“You are scared and you’re acting as a coward Lyanna. I don’t know what you went through but you can’t let past events dictate youre life and your choices.”

“As if you knew something about hard times Charles! You grew up here, in a privileged world. You live the perfect life. You are not going to make me believe that you know something about traumas. You don’t know what it means to lose people.”

That hurt Charles more than anything. Scared to say something that he would regret and because they were not both in any state to have a real and appeased conversation, he decided to leave. He looked at her one last time before closing the door.

========

taglist - if you want to be added let me know @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: The Law of Surprise (3/3)

Summary: The Law of Surprise: a custom as old as humanity itself. The Law dictates that a man saved by another is expected to offer to his savior a boon whose nature is unknown to one or both parties. In most cases, the boon takes the form of the saved man's firstborn child, conceived or born without the father's knowledge.

A/N: This is NOT a Witcher AU. The idea for this fic WAS inspired by the show, however. I’m not sure if the Law of Surprise was a show/game creation or if it existed before. Regardless, this fic is my spin on the concept and will be posted in three parts.

Much love and thanks to the @cssns mods for keeping this event going year after year! A HUGE shout out to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the AMAZING pieces she made to accompany my fic. Go give her ALL the flails! Finally, all the hot chocolate, rum, and grilled cheese sandwiches for my amazing betas @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. LOVE YOU LADIES TO BITS!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One | Part Two

Part Three

The castle was brimming with life and gaiety. Orchestral sounds spilled over the balconies and light seeped from every window, illuminating the stone walls and bathing the gardens in an exuberant glow. If he’d had to guess, Hook would estimate the overflow from the ballroom to be in the hundreds as he made his way through the crush of courtiers, adorned in their finery as they eagerly awaited to be announced.

Dukes and earls. Ambassadors and emissaries. Military leaders and loyal sycophants. The creme de la creme of Misthaven and her allied kingdoms were all in attendance - all who had received a royal summons, that is. Hook had witnessed a number of people being turned away at the gate when they had failed to produce the invitation. The exquisitely designed edict with its filigree and gilded letters announcing the event of the century:

The Formal Betrothal Ceremony and Ball between Her Royal Highness Princess Emma of Misthaven and His Royal Highness Prince Neal, Son and Heir of the Dark One.

Not that Hook had received one himself, of course; their Majesties had learned their lesson the last time they’d attempted to share blessed news and an invitation with him. Pan had been serious when he’d meant no interference, though they had underestimated what the evil bastard considered as such until he’d enticed most of the Misthaven male youths away from their beds and nearly to their deaths over one of the kingdom’s cliffs, because the sovereigns had dared to have an envoy deliver him news of the arrival of their second child - a son. When David and Hook had confronted Pan before he could lure the boys to their deaths, the demon brat had made it clear that any communication, any interaction, any attempts to maintain or strengthen relationships between Misthaven and “his pirate” would be seen as a breach of contract and met with severe penalties. After that, Hook had once again kept his distance from Misthaven, and Misthaven had kept its distance from him. So, naturally, Hook did not fault them for failing to send him an invite to tonight’s festivities. They could not possibly have known that circumstances were different now.

A fact Tink kept nagging on about these past few months.

Months they had spent attempting to set things right in the wake of Neverland’s liberation. Months they had spent establishing authority and restoring order while dealing with uprisings from those still loyal to Pan. Months Hook had spent ferrying those who had wished to return to their homes, not knowing if one even still existed for them, as he warred with himself over the prospect of returning to his own.

It had been the news of Emma’s betrothal that had started the quarrel with Tink up again. Enjoying a pint in a dark corner of anonymity whilst patroning a tavern in Glowerhaven, they’d heard the toasts and cheers go up wishing the princess and “her prince” well. The Dark One’s son wasn’t truly royalty, of course, but none were fool enough to challenge the title.

While the other patrons had reveled in the news of the betrothal, their spirits high from the glee of gossip and tankards of toasts, Hook had sat with a weighty stone of despondency in his belly even as he’d tried to muster up some semblance of jubilation over the news.

“You must go to Misthaven,” Tink urged. “You have to tell them. Tell her. You can’t let her enter a betrothal or get married without--”

“Do you think I would interfere in her life now?” Hook replied through grit teeth. “Burden her with this… with me, when she has finally found happiness?”

“How do you know it is true happiness she has found? The Law of Surprise entrusted her to you. Gave you the responsibility and privilege of her destiny. You cannot sit by and allow her to--”

“To what?” Hook snapped. “To decide for herself? To pursue a destiny she has chosen? To fall in love and follow her heart while making alliances that will strengthen her kingdom and secure her reign? I am not her lord and master, nor am I her overseer.”

“No. You are not,” Tink said softly. “But you are fated to her. Bonded to her through the Law. Connected in a way she isn’t even aware of, because you haven’t allowed her to know. You owe her the truth before she establishes new bonds with another.”

Hook scoffed, but tapped the ring on his thumb against his tankard as he considered her words.

“At the very least,” Tink continued, “go see her. Before she is whisked off to the Dark Realm to prepare for her new life as Neal’s wife and future Queen of the Dark One’s subjects, go meet her. Make sure it is for love that she has chosen this path, and not out of a sense of duty or obligation. Slake your curiosity of who she has become and give yourself the peace of knowing that in spite of everything, she turned out well.” Hardening her gaze, she added, “And for the sake of all the gods, stop being a coward and go face your brother.”

He hated when the infernal fairy was right.

It was cowardice that had kept him from returning. Fear of having to divulge all he’d done in order to achieve his freedom, the lengths he’d had to go to and the ways in which he’d made Pan believe he’d broken him before finally being able to…

Afraid that there was no longer a place for him among society. Terrified over the prospect that, despite Neverland’s magic and the way it had kept him youthful, his life had already passed him by. Petrified to face the girl he’d been meant to watch over, daunted by the uncertainty of how she might react if he ever managed to work up the nerve to tell her the truth about him, about the Law of Surprise, about the fate’s design that had bonded them to one another before she was even born.

Tink had been right, though. He could not give in to cowardice, so he’d commissioned a new waistcoat and duster, one befitting a gentleman pirate paying court, and made port in Misthaven the evening of his princess’ betrothal ball. His lack of an invitation was no issue with the guards at the gate, he’d merely flashed them his hook and they’d allowed him entry, certifying that the king’s pardon of Hook’s crimes and promises of sanctuary within Misthaven still stood. Though Hook did feel it prudent to tuck his left arm behind his back, beneath his quilted, leather coat whilst in the receiving line, lest one of the guests glimpse it and start a fuss.

He wasn’t sure if it was the maddening wait, the stifling corridor, or the crowd of plumed and perfumed guests that began to grate on his nerves, spiking his anxiety and forcing him to withdraw from the ballroom hall. All he knew was that he’d suddenly found himself in a dark and isolated alcove around the corner from the crush, attempting to steady his breathing while muttering curses at himself for falling apart over something as simple as queuing for a ball.

“Is everything alright, good sir?”

Hook spun around, once more tucking his hook behind his back while his hand swept through his hair in an attempt to straighten his appearance. He stood in stupified silence for several skips of his heartbeat, too stunned by the gorgeous woman before him, until he finally cleared his throat and found his voice.

“Aye, lass,” he replied, unable to keep some of the awe out of his tone. “No need to concern yourself with me.”

The woman, young, blonde, with a slender form that did not fail to fill out the curves of her gown while demonstrating the strength he could detect beneath her proper posture, cocked her head to one side, her seaglass eyes narrowing at him even as a smile slightly tugged at the corners of her exquisite lips, rebutted, “A man hiding away in the shadows is a bit concerning, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” Hook conceded with a slight chuckle. Taking a step forward so she could get a better look at him, his smile broadened when her eyes widened and swept over his form with similar interest. “Truth be told,” he continued in a low timbre, “I am rather out of practice in the rules of court. It has been many years since I’ve attended a royal ball.”

Eyes snapping back up to his, she schooled her features and lifted her chin. “Have you not escorted someone to attend with you? Have you no one whose company you can rely on?”

Hook sighed wistfully. “My brother is here,” he said, attempting to keep all sense of melancholy or apprehension from his tone, “but I have not seen him in many years. My presence may come as something of a shock, and I do not wish to cast a pall on the evening. I would never wish to tarnish the memory of it for the princess.”

“The princess?” she parroted, her brows arching and achieving heights that nearly matched her voice. “You hold her in high regard then?”

“Aye. Very much.” Thoughts of his Emma, and the maelstrom of emotions they brought with them, made his voice constrict in his throat, making his next words a bit strained. “Though, I have not had the pleasure of her acquaintance since she was a child.”

The woman’s expression shifted, becoming pensive, almost far away, but as quickly as they had taken hold of her features, she shook off whatever thoughts she’d been contemplating. “Well, I highly doubt anything you do could tarnish this night for her.”

“I appreciate that vote of confidence, love.” Killian scratched behind his ear, his hips swinging with another swaggering step forward as he pressed a little too closely for decorum’s liking into her personal space. “I don’t suppose, once I’ve mustered up the courage to make my way into the ballroom, you would consider bestowing me the pleasure of a waltz?”

The corners of the woman’s lips tipped up again, and Hook wondered what it would take to encourage a full smile from her. Not that it mattered. He’d already accepted the challenge.

“Would such a consideration give you the necessary encouragement to face your brother and the court?” she asked.

Boldly, he took her hand and ran his thumb over the backs of her knuckles, murmuring, “Such consideration would give me the encouragement to do a great many things, Miss…”

Her lips parted, the response of her name on the tip of her tongue, when an attendant rounded the corner and jolted them apart with her exclamations. “Your Highness! I have been looking everywhere for you!”

Hook whipped his head from the attendant back to the woman who had snatched her hand from his and taken several steps back.

“Your Highness?” he said incredulously. “As in Her Royal Highness? Princess Emma?”

“I… I,” she stuttered. “I’m sorry, I must…”

“Excuse us, my lord,” the attendant said, encouraging her charge away from the alcove and towards the hallways that led to the royal entrance at the back of the ballroom.

Hook watched her depart, stunned by the realization that the woman with whom he’d been conversing - and was now rather taken with - was none other than the princess. His princess. His Emma. His Child of Surprise who was no longer a child.

He’d known that already of course, that she was no longer a child. More than ten years had passed since he’d last seen her, but as she was escorted down the hallway, briefly taking the opportunity to glance at him over her shoulder with an apologetic smile and a glimmer of attraction in her eyes, the reality of those years hit him full force. His princess was no longer a child, and once the betrothal ceremony was complete, she would no longer be his.

Forgoing the queue, Hook forced his way into the ballroom without being announced and found himself a vantage point where he could observe without taking on much notice. A resurgence of duty and responsibility filled him. He wanted to - no, needed to - weigh the measure of the man his princess was about to bind herself to in betrothal. Needed to know he was worthy of her.

Although, he was quite certain no man ever would be.

As the ballroom began to fill, his vantage point proved to be less than ideal. Unable to clearly see the dais, he started to shuffle his way through the throng as the prince and his father were announced, followed swiftly by Their Majesties and Princess Emma.

He was halfway across the room when the ceremony began, and the heavy weight of regret, knowing he was too late to do anything, pressed down upon him, keeping him rooted to his spot. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. He was about to lose her forever without having the chance to truly know her. He was a fool for wasting these past few months. A damned fool. All he could do now was watch as the prince and princess recited their vows while a fairy wove the betrothal bonds around them with her wand.

His heartache was quickly forgotten, however, when the final binding spell failed, leaving the betrothal void and eliciting a collective gasp from those assembled.

“I… I don’t understand,” the fairy stammered. “The magic should have worked. I… I don’t know what--”

“Clearly, you did something wrong, dearie,” the Dark One accused as he took a threatening step towards the young fairy.

“No,” Emma stated, stepping between her would-be father-in-law and the scared-out-of-her-wits fairy. “She didn’t. The magic failed to bind us, because…” Turning her attention back towards her would-be groom, Emma declared, “as I have told you numerous times, I have no intentions of marrying you. I don’t care about the deal our fathers made in order to end the war. My heart will never be yours, therefore no vows I make to love you will ever be true.”

Chaotic murmurs erupted throughout the ballroom, but Hook kept his focus on the dais.

“That matters not!” the Dark One shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Emma which made Hook’s hand itch for the hilt of his sword, unfortunately left behind on his ship. “Your feelings have no bearing and are not enough to void the betrothal spell.” Casting his ire upon King David and Queen Snow, he demanded, “Explain yourselves! We made a deal! You agreed to this betrothal on your daughter’s behalf. It is your word and your authority over her that binds that agreement, so why did it fail?”

Hook sucked in a startled breath. He knew why.

“I think I can answer that, and settle this matter,” he called out, causing all eyes to fall on him.

“And who might you be?” Prince Neal demanded.

“Captain Killian Jones,” he proclaimed, stepping forward as the crowd parted. “Though some have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker.” Raising his left arm, he displayed his hook and a hysteria of murmurs further erupted amongst the crowd that was now cowering away from him.

David and Snow’s mouths dropped open and Liam, who had been standing by off to the side of the dais, rushed forward and took his place next to his sovereigns, a look of complete elation and shock coloring his aged face. The fairy fled, leaving Emma, Prince Neal, and the Dark One alone at the center of the raised platform, each of them staring at him with a variety of expressions.

“Hook!” Prince Neal exclaimed, before catching the eye of the many guards stationed along the walls. “Seize him!”

When none of the guards acquiesced to the command, an incensed and clearly alarmed Prince Neal sputtered, “W-Why are you all just s-standing there! Arrest him!”

“Oh, you must not be aware,” Hook said, swaggering his way towards the dais and stopping short of its steps. “You see, I have pardon in this land.”

Turning his incredulity and ire towards the King, Prince Neal opened his mouth, but was silenced by the quiet yet dangerous tone of the Dark One’s question.

“How, pray tell, do you plan to settle this matter, Captain?”

“By claiming that which was owed me the day I saved King David’s life and he vowed to honor me with a boon, dictated by the Law of Surprise.”

“A boon? What boon?” Emma demanded.

With confident, measured steps Hook made his way up to the top of the platform and stood in front of his princess, his body strategically placed between her and his new adversaries. His eyes captured hers and he knew they were crinkling in the corners as he smiled down at her.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” he murmured softly. “It’s you.”

Confusion and outrage flashed within her seaglass eyes and displayed themselves through each feature of her exquisite face. Though her reaction, not being what he’d hoped for, sliced through him, he could do nothing about that now, not when a fresh round of threats was being issued by the Dark One and his spawn.

“We had a deal!” the Dark One bellowed. “Your daughter’s hand in marriage to my son in exchange for me ending your war with George! You made a deal--”

“Which they have kept in good faith!” Hook roared, rounding on the imp and causing his son to stumble backwards. “They have prepared and presented the princess for betrothal, and Emma herself recited the vows, even as it went against everything she wished for herself. It is not their fault the fates did not bind the agreement. If you wish to lay declarations of war at anyone’s feet, then let it be mine, but I warn you…” Stepping closer, Hook loomed over the Dark One and in a timbre of hushed menace, he advised, “do so at your own peril.”

The Dark One’s eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing something about the man who stood before him that he had not registered before. Beside him, Prince Neal scoffed.

“Are we to be threatened by the likes of you? You are nothing but a filthy pirate.”

Hook grinned darkly and rocked back on his heels, tucking his thumb in his belt. “A few months ago I was nothing but a filthy pirate, but today,” hardening his expression, he declared, “I am Neverland’s King, and you do not want Neverland as your enemy.”

The Dark One visibly started, but the Prince merely snorted. “Neverland has no king.”

Keeping a calculating eye on the Dark One, Hook shrugged and addressed Neal with a casual air. “True. I never understood, with all his theatrics, why Pan had never outright declared himself king, but make no mistake…” The hard edge returned to his tone and countenance, “Pan ruled that island as a dictator king with an iron scepter and a crown of cruelty not even George could have dreamed of matching. Now that Pan’s dead,” the Dark One’s head snapped towards him, seemingly pulled from his thoughts with a number of questions swirling behind his dark gaze, “Neverland is under my rule. The island, its inhabitants, and…” Hook flicked his wrist and the entirety of the ballroom gasped when a jar of glittering dust appeared in his hand, “its magic. They all serve me now, so I say again. You do not want me as an enemy.”

Shrewdly, the Dark One scrutinized the jar in Hook’s hand, then inquired, “What, then, do you propose we do? The terms of the deal have not been met. I ended the war with King George. A debt is still owed.”

“Indeed,” Hook replied, holding out the jar towards the Dark One. “And I believe this canister of pixie dust is more than sufficient in settling that debt.” Hook pulled the jar back when the prince made an attempt to take it. “So long as you promise that accepting it means no further repercussions. Misthaven is safe from any further threats or acts of retaliation from you, and Emma is free to find love and happiness with whomever she chooses. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Papa, no!” Prince Neal protested. “You can’t just--”

“I can, and I have,” the Dark One clipped in a tone of censure before snatching the jar from Hook’s hand. Addressing the King and Queen, he confirmed, “Our deal has been satisfied. My son and I will now take our leave, but heed this… do not call upon me for aid ever again.”

“We won’t,” King David assured him. His eyes cut to Hook’s, relief and gratitude swimming within their depths, but before he could make any further statements another round of gasps rippled through the ballroom as the Dark One and Prince Neal were enveloped in a plume of dark smoke and vanished.

A heavy exhale fell over Hook’s lips and he stood, frozen, in the gazes of his friends, his sovereigns, his brother, and… his Emma.

“It’s you,” she said, her expression and voice void of any inflection he could identify as her eyes seemed to look past him to that far off place he’d seen her subconscious go when they were alone before. “You’re… him. We’ve… we’ve met before.”

“Aye, Your Highness,” he hedged. Her demeanor and lack of response to all that had just transpired made him hesitant to push her too far, too fast. “Moments ago in the corridor--”

“No… no, that’s not. I mean…” Her eyes refocused on him with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something that hadn’t quite made its way to the surface yet swirling through their verdant beauty as she whispered, “It’s you, isn’t it? The man from my… you’re him.”

“Him… who?”

“My pirate,” she exhaled, stunning Hook to his core as she lifted a chain that had been concealed beneath the high neck of her white gown. Dangling from the delicate links was a familiar looking pendant. The seashell he had gifted her - after she’d plucked it from his desk, the little thief - he realized. The far off look returned as she murmured, “Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you.”

His heart swelling, Hook elated, “Good,” and took a step towards her. The action, like all his actions since he’d revealed himself, was not met with the response he’d been hoping for.

Taking several steps back from him, Emma rounded on her parents and shouted, “You lied to me! You made me think it was all in my head! You knew! You knew why I felt so… wrong, so deficient. So… broken. My entire life I’ve… You knew about him all this time and you never--”

“You mustn’t blame them, love,” Hook insisted. “It’s not their fault. I made your mother promise never to tell--”

“Perhaps we should take this discussion elsewhere,” Snow said, making them all acutely aware of their audience. The societal vultures practically circling in anticipation of the feast such morsels of scandal might provide.

“That won’t be necessary,” Emma seethed. “There won’t be any more discussion, because I’m not interested in anything any of you have to say!”

Hook gaped when she raised her hand, calling forth magic to transport her from the ballroom in a plume of white smoke.

“She has magic?”

“She’s the product of True Love. Of course she has magic,” the Blue Fairy replied with a terse and exasperated tone, having made her way onto the dais to address her sovereigns and offer her assistance. “Your Majesties, perhaps it would be best for you to withdraw with the… captain, whilst the other fairies and I tend to your guests?”

“Yes,” Snow agreed. “Thank you, Blue.”

Hook followed his sovereigns and brother to an adjoining room where they could converse and continue their reunion in private, though none of them seemed to know where to begin.

“I think I ought to go and check on Em--”

“No,” Hook said, cutting off Snow. “Leave her be. She’s had a terrible shock and no doubt needs some time to work out all that’s…”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment more until reality set in. They were here, together, reunited at last, and in a synchronized heartbeat they suddenly found themselves in a united embrace, laughing and crying tears of joy and relief at finally having the nightmare of separation behind them.

“Admit it,” Hook demanded of David, wiping the vestiges of his emotional release from his eyes. “You were hedging your bets when you made that deal with the Dark One. You suspected The Law of Surprise would void it when the time came, didn’t you?” Turning towards his brother, Hook surmised, “That’s why you wouldn’t let me relinquish my claim and bestow it upon you.”

Sheepishly, Snow admitted, “Blue was the one who suggested the idea. We could not be sure, though, given your… uncertain future under Pan’s rule.”

“Speaking of,” Liam chimed in. “However did you manage to defeat the little bastard?”

“It’s a bit of a sordid tale,” Hook told them. “And one I do not wish to relive in detail. Suffice it to say, I managed to gain a certain amount of trust with Pan, which allowed me close access to him. Revealing some of his weaknesses. One of them being… squid ink.”

Liam led them over to the settees and they all sat down as he remarked, “Squid ink is no easy substance to obtain.”

“Aye,” Hook affirmed. “Fortunately, whilst on one of my missions for Pan, I ran into a mermaid who wished to leave her life in the sea behind. In exchange for safe passage, and because she felt bad for nearly crashing my ship upon rocky shoals when she enchanted me with her siren song, she gave me the squid ink she’d stolen from her father’s vault. Tink and I used the ink to subdue Pan.” Fiddling with his hook, he cast his eyes towards the floor as he confessed, “My hook did the rest.”

“And Pan’s death gave you… magic?”

“Not exactly.” Hook pulled back the sleeve of his right arm, exposing the cuff secured to his wrist. “This does,” he said, tapping it with the side of his hook. “It was Pan’s. He was never without it. I learned that it tethered the Shadow to him, acting as a conduit to the island’s power which he could then bend to his will. At first, I had no desire for it, but its use became necessary in order for me to begin to set things right.”

Hook told them how he and Tink had spent the past few months: squashing rebellions from those on the island still loyal to Pan, learning about the island’s magic while working with the Shadow to restore balance to her shores, and returning those he’d brought there under Pan’s order against their will.

“There is still much to be done, but when I heard about Emma’s betrothal, I…” Not wishing to tell anymore half-truths, or admit that the news of her betrothal had not been enough without Tink’s prompting, he let his words trail off. He hadn’t shared with them his misgivings in returning, allowing them to believe these other distractions had been the reason for his delay, causing guilt to churn in his gut as he sat amongst them.

“Where is Tinkerbell?” Snow asked, perhaps sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“She remained behind in Neverland,” Hook replied. “Awaiting further orders.”

“Further orders?” David parroted. “What more could you ask of her?”

“Not from me,” Hook assured. “From Blue.” Glancing down at the cuff on his wrist, he imparted, “The island should go to the fairies. They are the only ones who can truly wield and balance its power. I have no wish to be its sovereign forever, but...”

“But?”

Hook sighed. “All magic comes with a price, and the price of using this cuff is that it cannot be removed unless both the wearer and the island agree to its removal.” A wry smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he cheekily added, “or unless the wearer is dead and no longer has a say in the matter.”

“I don’t…” Liam floundered. “I don’t understand what you--”

“The island won’t let me relinquish my connection with its magic,” Hook said. “After Pan, I believe it finds me preferable and won’t risk falling into the wrong sort of hands again. My hope is that the fairies might be able to convince the island to free me of the obligation, which is one of the reasons Tink remained there. To continue working towards that end until reinforcements arrive.”

“Well,” Snow said, standing and causing the men to follow suit. “That is something we can certainly discuss in greater detail tomorrow. For now,” she turned to her husband and with a firm, yet regal, look, declared, “we really must return to our guests and assure them that all is well.”

“Of course,” David agreed. “You’re right. The gossip mill is no doubt having a field day and our allies deserve whatever reassurances we can give them.”

“My apologies for creating a spectacle.” Hook gave his sovereigns a chagrined and contrite look, but they quickly waved off his self-condemnation.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Snow assured him.

“Snow is right,” David asserted. “Without you, we’d likely be preparing for war with the Dark One. You saved us… again.”

Hook grinned and nonchalantly scratched behind his ear. “I imagine another boon might be in order then?”

David shot him a less than amused look. “I’m not granting you another Law of Surprise, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Though we do not plan to have any more children, I agree with Charming,” Snow said, a hint of amusement coloring her words. “Once was more than enough.”

Hook sobered at the reminder of his Emma, and the mess he’d made of things between them.

“You owe me nothing,” he said. “It isn’t as though I’ve lived up to the last--”

“Enough of that,” Snow admonished. “I know things may not have gone as you’d hoped with Emma, but tomorrow is a new day. Let me have a room made up for you, and tomorrow we can all--”

“Thank you, Snow, but I think I’d rather return to my ship.” When Liam opened his mouth to protest, Hook assured him. “I’ll remain in port. I won’t leave without discussing the matter with you first, I just… I need…”

“Much has changed for you, too, little brother,” Liam acknowledged.

“Aye,” Hook admitted. “Freedom is not something I’ve had much practice with, and I’m still getting my bearings. Still trying to decide what I want to do with my life.”

“You know you always have a home here, right?” David said, placing a heavy hand upon his shoulder. “A place to belong.”

“I appreciate that, Your Majesty,” Hook said, hoping his eyes reflected just how much that fact meant to him. “But do you honestly think things can go back to how they would have been if you’d never sent us to Neverland? Or if we’d all managed to return from the accursed mission?”

David flinched and his features twisted into an expression of guilt and regret.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Hook said, now placing his own hand on his sovereign's shoulder. “I do not blame you. I have never blamed you, but let’s not pretend I can just take my place within your navy and serve as captain of one of your ships. For one, I am no longer a man who takes orders from others willingly, and two… what crew would wish to serve under the likes of me? A pirate. A blackguard.”

“No one is suggesting we pretend the past twenty years did not happen,” Liam said. “There is much to work out, much to resolve and decide upon. For you… and for Emma.”

David’s expression shifted and he now regarded Hook in a way the pirate had never experienced before. Not as his sovereign, nor as his friend, but as a father. A rather protective father. A protective father who might have just registered the charged interactions the pirate and his daughter had shared in the ballroom.

“Indeed,” the man said with a slightly hardened edge on his words. “Perhaps we should have a talk about your intentions with my daughter.”

“Charming,” Snow scolded, saving Hook from having to respond. “Now is not the time.” Squaring her shoulders and taking up her regal posture, the queen declared, “While these matters are all important and worthy of our time and thoughtful consideration, the more pressing issue awaits us in the ballroom.” Fixing her eyes on Liam, she continued, “David and I will need your diplomacy in dealing with our allies. You and the fairies are our ambassadors for the duration of the event.” Shifting her attention to Hook, she offered, “You are welcome to stay, however, it may be best if--”

“If it is all the same to you, Your Majesty,” Hook interrupted, “I think I’d prefer to take my leave for the evening and return to my ship.”

Giving him an acquiescing nod, Snow replied, “Very well. Let us all get through this evening and get ourselves as restful of a night’s sleep as we can. We will then reconvene tomorrow.”

“And Emma?” Hook inquired.

Snow and David shared a quick look of solidarity, then confirmed with a glance towards Liam before affirming, “We will leave her be, for now. As you requested.”

Their silent recognition and acceptance of his sovereignty in Emma’s life both relieved and disquieted him. He’d meant what he’d said to Tink about not being her lord and master, but he would not hesitate to advocate for her if he felt those around her were not acting in her best interest. She needed time. They both did.

“Then I shall bid you all a good night,” Hook said, not waiting for them to reciprocate before transporting himself back to the Jolly Roger in a swirl of crimson, in dire need of a refuge where he himself could process all that had come to pass this evening.

~/~

Hook’s jaw cracked from the wide yawn he released early the next morning, his body stiff and feeling its true age as he went about his normal routine, shuffling through his cabin in naught but his skin. He’d managed to pull on his leather pants, leaving them loosely tied around his waist, when he heard a voice drifting towards him from the dock.

“Ahoy! Captain, are you there?” a woman’s voice softly called out. From the tentative tone and reserved volume, he could tell she was trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. It mattered not, though. He’d know that voice anywhere.

Hastily, Hook pulled on his shirt, a few of the buttons he kept fastened in the front slipped free from their closures, leaving his chest completely exposed. Forgoing his boots or even bothering to check the state of his hair, he rushed from his quarters and onto the deck, stopping short at the sight of his Emma standing atop the gangplank, just shy of the deck. The morning sun bathed her in an ethereal glow, silhouetting her form, which was adorned in her riding apparel, hugging her curves and highlighting her shapely legs in a way that had Hook glad he’d left his trousers loose.

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Hook continued to approach her, only now taking in her observations of him. Rather wide-eyed and pinked cheeked observations, he noted with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Princess?” he said, pulling her from her own thoughts, his breath catching at the way she wet her lips before clearing her throat.

“I apologize for arriving so early and unannounced,” she said, straightening her posture before inquiring, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

Hook grinned and closed the space between them with swaggering steps, holding out his hand to assist her. “Permission granted, Your Highness.”

When her feet hit the boards of the deck they stood there for a long moment, her hand still tucked in his as she took in the sight of his ship. When her gaze lifted to the mainsail a shudder ran down her spine. Though he was unsure how much she remembered from that night long ago when she last stood there, Hook was certain he knew what had caused her response.

“I sent him back,” he assured her, his voice low and soft.

“Who?”

“The Shadow. He’s the reason the sail is typically black, but I won’t need him until it is time for me to return to…”

Sensing this topic made her uneasy, his words trailed off and she pulled her hand from his. Noises from further up the dock grabbed their attention momentarily and Hook caught sight of her horse hitched at one of the posts, alone.

“Did you come here unaccompanied?”

“Yes,” she replied, uneasiness once again taking hold of her tone and demeanor. “I hadn’t planned it. I was out for my morning ride, clearing my head when…” Looking about she asked, “Is there somewhere we could go? Somewhere more private where we might converse?”

“Of course,” he said, not faulting her for not wanting to be seen fraternizing with him. “Follow me, Your Highness.”

He led her to his quarters and stopped at the threshold, allowing her entrance as he hung back. A soft gasp fell from her lips.

“It’s… it’s just as I remembered,” she whispered under her breath, taking in every detail of his cabin. “I thought you were a dream,” she confessed, though he wasn’t certain she was actually talking to him, her gaze far away and her words almost murmured to herself.

“I thought the whole thing was a nightmare.” Her hands skimmed over the top of his desk, pausing at his hook which he’d failed to secure in his brace before going on deck. “The shadow that kidnapped me, the dark island, the glass cage, the boy…” Her eyes flicked up, meeting his as she continued in a whisper, “The pirate.” Wetting her lips, her gaze never wavered even if his did briefly drop down to her mouth. “You’re real. You were real all this time.”

“Aye.”

Picking up his hook, she turned it over in her hands. “This is the hook you used to attach yourself to the barrel? The one my mother later gifted you?”

“How did you know--”

Setting it down she leaned back against his desk and let out a heavy breath. “I talked with them last night,” she told him. “My parents. After the ball, I demanded they tell me everything.” Her gaze dropped for a moment, then her eyes snapped up to his, determination shining from their depths. His princess was on a mission for the truth. “Did you really not know of my existence until Pan had…”

“No,” he confirmed. “I had no idea the King and Queen had a child, nor that the child was the fulfillment of the Surprise your father had granted me until Pan kidnapped you.”

Nodding her head in acceptance of his word her demeanor shifted slightly, her shoulders relaxing and her gaze softening.

“I want to apologize for the way I behaved last night,” she said. “How I reacted when you…” Her contrite expression gave way to one tinged with anger as she continued. “The morning after Neverland, when I woke up, everyone acted as though it hadn’t happened. My being kidnapped. My parents insisted I had dreamt the whole thing, even Blue made me think I’d…” Her hands gripped the edge of his desk, her knuckles turning white as she continued to lean against it for support, and it took everything within him to not go to her and offer himself as an anchor for her feelings of hurt and betrayal. “My whole life I have been sheltered, not allowed to make decisions for myself, feeling as though something… vital was missing from my life, yet unable to seek it out. Made to feel as though I were mad, because of this dream that would not leave me.”

Swallowing hard, she glanced around his cabin once more before her eyes fell shut. A deep breath filled her chest, followed by a cleansing exhale. When she opened her eyes the anger was gone, but a sadness lingered. Hook would do anything to alleviate it, but he knew she was not finished. There was still so much she needed to work through, to process, to accept, and he would give her the space to do all of it.

“Last night,” she carried on, “when the betrothal bond failed, I truly thought it was because my vows had been a lie. I thought I was standing up to Neal and his father, taking control of my destiny for the first time in my life, only to discover my future was never my own to control, because of another agreement my father made before I was even born.”

Hook winced. “I am sorry, Princess. Truly.” Pushing off from the doorway where he’d been leaning against the jamb, Hook took a few steps into the cabin, stopping at the corner of his bunk. “It was never my intention to leave you feeling powerless or alone. If I could go back, I’d--”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, her voice sincere and her eyes full of forgiveness. “You had no way of knowing what the Surprise would be, and with what George did to my mother, who would have ever guessed? I don’t blame you for how my life--”

“You shouldn’t blame your father either, Your Highness,” Hook said in defense of his sovereign. “He had no way of knowing either, otherwise you would never have become my Surprise.”

“True.” She crossed her hands over her chest, a hardened expression once more tightening her features. “The blame belongs to Blue and my mother.”

“What?” Hook balked.

Meeting his gaze, she informed him, “Blue knew about the barrel. She saw it listed on the inventory that was taken when the Jewel made it back with the survivors. They must have put it in the hold when they fished it and you from the sea. Blue could not be sure it had not been corrupted, so she gave the water to my mother without her knowing. It wasn’t until weeks later, when my mother came to Blue worried that something was terribly wrong with her, that Blue confessed what she’d done. She told my mother it was still too early to know for certain and that she should wait to tell my father until she was further along, then later that very same day…”

“He granted me the Law of Surprise.”

“My mother knew he intended to reward you for your bravery and sacrifice, but said she had no idea it would be… Father said it hadn’t even occurred to him to grant it to you until the moment before he declared it. So, no. I do not blame my father.”

Stepping forward, Hook closed the gap between them and took her hand in his. “I will not tell you how you ought to feel, Princess. I just urge you to not let anger and blame linger in your heart for too long. I know what it is like to let such emotions fester, letting darkness creep in and take root in your spirit, giving it a foothold in your soul. Learn from my mistakes, love. Resist it.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

Running his thumb over the back of her knuckles, he softly imparted, “For many years during my first deal with Pan, I didn’t think I had anything to live for. The demon made me a pirate and I became a villain, unworthy of association with people like your parents or my brother. I had resigned myself to a life of exile and wasn’t certain I’d even return to Misthaven, until…”

“Until… what?”

“Until I met you.” How he wished he still had his other hand so he could take both of hers in his grasp, instead, he settled for threading their fingers together. “I wanted to be a better man for you, Princess. I knew Pan would still require a villain, but I was determined to defeat him by any means necessary so that I could take back my own power and control my own destiny.”

“So… what now?” she asked, a soft tremble quaking through her words.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she wet her lips, trying her best to hide her trepidations. “Your expectations. You said you returned in order to claim that which--”

“I said all that in an attempt to stop a war from brewing, and so you might be freed from a deal you never wished to be a part of,” he quickly assured her. “I know all too well the perils of making deals with demons, and it is a fate I would not wish upon anyone, least of all you.” Hook lifted their hands and cradled hers against his chest. “I have no expectations of you, love. I only wish to… to try and make up for lost time. To get to know you and have you get to know me. Fate may very well have its own plan, but as far as I’m concerned, whatever we become to one another is as much up to you as it is to me.”

A smile curled at the corners of her lips. “I’d hoped I hadn’t made that up about you,” she said. “I am glad to know you are, indeed, a man of honor and good form… just as I remembered you to be.”

Hook cocked his head to one side, his brows furrowed as he asked, “If you’ve always remembered the kidnapping, then why did you not recognize me in the alcove last night?”

“My memories weren’t… detailed,” she told him. “More like fragments. Impressions.” Looking past him, she began to call forth some of those memories. “I remembered you were a pirate. I remembered the silver fastenings of your waistcoat and the fact that you had dark hair, and I remembered… your eyes. They were probably the most vivid thing about you that I remembered.” Flicking her gaze up to his, she went on to say, “The truth of a person can always be found in their eyes.” Dipping her head, she demurred, “I’ve always been pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me. It’s always in the eyes. I knew, from the moment I looked into yours, that I could trust you. That you were telling the truth about taking me home. Your eyes told me I’d be safe with you.” Locking her eyes with his, she wistfully admitted, “I’ve thought about your eyes so many times over the years.”

Her cheeks reddened and she suddenly could not meet his gaze. Hook wondered what other thoughts she might have had about her dream pirate as she grew older, but held back from making a saucy quip, allowing her to move past him towards his bookcase. Truth be told, he could do with a bit of space between them as well.

“My parents tell me that though you are finally free of Pan, there are still loose ends for you to tie up in Neverland.” Distracting herself she focused her attention on the contents of his shelves, picking through the books and lifting the lids on a few of the boxes. “Once that is done, what do you intend to do with your newfound freedom?”

“Honestly?” Hook exhaled heavily. “I’m not sure.” A tinkling melody filled the room when she lifted the top of what turned out to be a music box, hastily letting it fall shut before turning apologetic eyes towards him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, running her hands down the front of her riding jacket before clasping them in front of herself. “You were saying?”

Hook chuckled, then sobered a bit when he remembered what he was about to reveal. “I was saying, I’m not sure what I’ll do once my duty to Neverland is complete. I would like to return to Misthaven, I just… I’m not certain I have a place here any longer.” Fiddling with a few of the items on his desk, he added, “Of course, there are people here whom I wish to build relationships with.”

“Like your brother?”

“Aye,” he replied, lifting his gaze towards her. “Among others.” He paused, hoping she knew she was at the top of those considerations. “I have missed so much, and while I realize he is now old enough to be mistaken as my father, Liam is the only family I have left.” They both shared a quick laugh over that observation before he declared, “I do not want to miss any more of his life, or anyone else’s of importance to me.

Emma hummed, her eyes cast down towards her feet, perhaps unable to meet his gaze because of the intensity of it. “I’d imagine you’d want the chance to get to know his wife and your nephews as well.”

Her words rocked Hook to his core. “What?”

Emma’s head snapped up, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping from the realization. “I’m so sorry! I thought… I thought you knew!”

Hook slumped down on the edge of his bed, a new sense of melancholy and injustice washing over him as he ran his hand through his hair and pulled at the strands in the back. “How long has he… how old are his… why did he not…”

“They’ve been married almost ten years, and have two sons. Her name is Belle and she’s…”

Emma paused when Hook buried his face in his hand. So much time wasted. The toll of the years Pan had stolen from him never seemed to cease in its increase.

The sound of the music box filled his cabin once more, prompting Hook to look up from his sorrows. Tentatively, Emma approached.

“I wish there was something I could do about the time that was taken from you and your brother. I wish I had words of wisdom or answers that might guide you towards what’s next, but I don’t. All I can do in this moment is… make good on a promise I gave you last night.”

Confused, Hook could only stare at her, until she clarified, “I believe I owe you a waltz?”

Hook huffed out an amused breath. Reaching up he pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear and confessed, “I know I instigated that, but truth be told… I haven’t danced a waltz in over twenty years.”

“Well,” she replied, clearly not letting him off the proverbial hook. “Good thing for you there is only one rule.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet before wrapping his braced arm around her waist. Taking his hand in hers she flicked up her gaze and murmured, “Pick a partner who knows what they’re doing.”

She took the lead until muscle memory returned, then Hook glided them around his cabin, holding her close and marveling at how she’d been able to pull him from his sulliness with such a simple act of kindness.

His Emma was a marvel, to be sure.

“Do you, Princess?” he asked, causing her brows to pinch together as her head tilted to one side. “Do you know what you’re doing?” he clarified, his voice low and hushed, wanting to keep the moment tender despite the question burning at the back of his throat. “What you are going to do now that the threat of Pan and your obligation to marry Prince Neal has been lifted?”

Chewing her lip, she gave the inquiry her considerations before drawing closer to him. Moving her hand from his shoulder to toy with the back of his neck, she sent a cascade of shivers down his spine as she addressed his question with one of her own.

“Did you know that other than the night I was taken to Neverland, this is the furthest I have even been from the castle?”

That piece of information shocked him, though he knew it should not have. Her existence had been kept a secret for the first half of her life because of George, and the threat of Pan had kept her parents cautious for the past decade. Fear had made his sovereigns hypervigilant with their greatest treasure, so no, it should not have surprised him that they’d kept her close to home, safe behind the castle walls, never straying from the grounds.

“I have never left these shores. Never seen the beauty or experienced the culture of other realms, or met anyone who wasn’t thoroughly vetted by my parents.” Wetting her lips, her eyes fell to the charms hanging around his neck, but Hook knew her gaze was far away once again. “I know I have a duty and obligation to my kingdom, my people, and my parents, but…”

“But?”

Glancing back up with a slight expression of guilt pulling at her features, she murmured, “I can't help but wonder if my brother, Leo, was the fates way of allowing me to… That is… I know I should not wish to burden him unnecessarily, it’s just that--”

“Where would you go first?” Hook asked, still swirling them around his cabin, maneuvering their bodies with the same ease in which he attempted to change the course of their conversation. “If you had the means to go anywhere, where would you go first?”

“Neverland.”

Her quick and unexpected reply had him stopping them in their tracks. “Neverland? Why?”

Once again, she worried her lip, her breath hitching shallowly in her chest. “As much as I long to see the world, the memory of the one time I left Misthaven still haunts me,” she said, her voice a tad unsure at first, though it gained a sense of certainty and resolve as she continued on. “I want to go back so I can face it. So I can put the fear it has held over my life behind me, once and for all.”

When she flicked her gaze up to his, something new stirred within those seaglass depths and the effect of it seemed to hum between them, electrifying the atmosphere of his cabin.

“I want to see what sort of place it is now. With Pan gone. I want to know how it has fared under your rule. How it’s changed due to your influence and direction.” Swaying closer to one another, she was practically a hair’s breadth away when she murmured, “I want to see it for myself in the hopes that…”

“That what?”

Her eyes fell to his mouth and his pulse quickened.

“That it proves that I am… not wrong about you.”

It took his mind several skips of his heartbeat to register the feel of her lips against his, but once it did, instinct took over. His braced arm pressed into the small of her back, bringing her even closer to him, their chests nearly touching with the only obstacle between them being her hand. Her fingers curled through his chest hair, pulling a groan from the back of his throat that vibrated against her lips as his own slanted across them. Threading his fingers through her hair, he wrapped his hand around the base of her skull so he could position her head to his liking, deepening the kiss and coaxing her lips apart with his tongue.

The taste of her was captivating. He could spend the rest of his life drinking her in yet never be satisfied, always wanting more, always needing more… of her. Just her. His Emma.

However, now was not the time for more, and from the gentle, yet insistent, press of her hand against his chest, it was evident that his princess was not ready for what could come next if they continued down this path of passion.

“That was…” he whispered against her lips, chasing them without thought.

“Destiny?” She giggled, her nerves and inexperience quivering through her laugh.

Brushing his nose against hers, he loosened his hold, creating some space between them while assuring her, “As I said before, I have no expectations of you, no expectations for what might happen between us or what we might come to mean to one another. Only… only hope and a promise.”

“What promise would that be?”

“I promise to do whatever it takes to win your heart, Princess. I promise, that for as long as it pleases you, I’ll be here, at your service.” Taking her hand in his, Hook vowed, “I will take you to Neverland, and any other realm you wish to see. I will remain by your side, even if, one day, it is only to stand in support of my future queen.”

“What about Liam?” she said, clearly overjoyed by the prospects he’d laid out whilst harbouring some guilt that their fulfillment would take him away from his brother.

“My brother will be here whenever we choose to return,” he comforted. “Besides… he has his own life to live, and whether he chooses to acknowledge it or not, he’s been shouldering a duty and responsibility he was never meant to carry.”

“Are you suggesting I’ve been burdensome to your brother?” Her tone was laced with offense, but it was betrayed by the teasing expression she could not keep from her features.

“Oh, yes,” he cheeked back, winding his arms around her waist. “Quite the burden you are. How will I ever bear being bonded by the fates to Your Highness?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, running her palms up his chest then wrapping her arms around his neck. “Perhaps, you could start by calling me by my name, Captain.”

“As you wish… Emma,” he obliged on an exhale.

She graced him with a smile, then asked, “And you? How may I address you? Or do you prefer Captain?”

He wouldn’t deny the pleasure it gave him, hearing her call him Captain, and he was about to make a tawdry statement attesting to that fact when his eye caught a glimpse of his hook, still sitting atop his desk.

“Call me…” he said, his voice choked and barely able to utter the name he’d long abandoned. “Killian. Please, Emma. Call me Killian.”

“Killian.”

The sound of his name on her breath shot a thrill of wonder up his spine. His lips crashed against hers and they both surrendered to the destiny fate had planned for them long ago.

Which, honestly, should not have come as a… surprise.

Thank you all for going on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed the ride!

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[mental-health-and-jesus]

9-04-2024 | Bible App | Pray to Him

‘Later, Isaac prayed to the Lord on behalf of his wife, because she was barren. And the Lord heard his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived.’ ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭25‬:‭21‬

‘So Moses cried out to the Lord, “O God, please heal her!’ ‭‭Numbers‬ ‭12‬:‭13‬

‘Then Samson called out to the Lord: “O Lord GOD, please remember me. Strengthen me, O God, just once more, so that with one vengeful blow I may pay back the Philistines for my two eyes.’ ‭‭Judges‬ ‭16‬:‭28‬

‘And now, O Lord God, confirm forever the word You have spoken concerning Your servant and his house. Do as You have promised,’ ‭‭2 Samuel‬ ‭7‬:‭25‬

‘Then he stretched himself out over the child three times and cried out to the Lord, “O Lord my God, please let this boy’s life return to him!’ ‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭17‬:‭21‬

‘And now, O Lord, God of Israel, please confirm what You promised to Your servant David.’ ‭‭2 Chronicles‬ ‭6‬:‭17‬

‘After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his prosperity and doubled his former possessions.’ ‭‭Job‬ ‭42‬:‭10‬

‘Make haste, O God, to deliver me! Hurry, O Lord, to help me!’ ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭70‬:‭1‬

‘Then Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord,’ ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭38‬:‭2‬

‘From inside the fish, Jonah prayed to the Lord his God,’ ‭‭Jonah‬ ‭2‬:‭1‬

[distracted-and-diffused]

Things I’m sad we didn’t get to see in Dead Boy Detectives canon - Crystal Palace Edition - Part Two

In Part One of this post, I talked about how there are a bunch of things that I'm sad that we don't get to see Crystal deal with in Season Two (and beyond), and a lot of those had to do with her family and friendships.

But I'm also sad that we don't get to see the continuation and resolution of her arc with David, because her character development as part of that arc is such an important part of her:

I’m sad we don’t get to see the resolution to the arc with David the Demon and how she’s going to deal with him being buried under the tree (or, eventually, not buried under the tree). I felt like that was going to be a big thing for Crystal in next season’s arc, and was both excited and apprehensive for it.

I feel that Edwin and Charles would be upset and disappointed, ultimately, that she was hiding that from them, although the damage to her that manifests from keeping David under the tree (and I have no doubt that she would keep him there, until it started to cause serious problems) might influence the way those feelings show themselves. I think that Edwin would still have problems with her hiding the fact that she is carrying a demon, even if David is, in the scheme of things, a minor demon who is not very powerful.

Since those things echo problems that they had at the beginning of season one, I would have been very interested to see how the way the characters think about them and express themselves about them has changed by the end of season two, and I’m sad we don’t get to see that.

I’m sad that we don’t get to find out more about Crystal’s relationship with David and how it began, and whether it was opportunistic (he likes that she has power) or whether it was targeted (a deliberate and premeditated attempt to seduce her in hopes of gaining access to her power for himself, or limiting her power to keep her out of the way for someone else).

The idea that someone might have tried to suppress the power of a scion of powerful women by hiding her memories in an attempt to cut off her connection to who she is is … powerful, for me. And I was curious, as to whether this might have been that. And to how Crystal might have processed it, if it was.

I'm also curious as to how much David might have manipulated the memories that he took, and how Crystal might navigate the process of figuring that out, if he did.

I'm really sad that we didn't get to see any of this develop further, because I had confidence that the writers had planned to address it and had plans for addressing it in a way that would respect and challenge and strengthen the characters and their relationships.

These are things that I was nervous about, but was excited to see, and I'm coming to terms with part of my sadness about the show ending is that we won't get those answers and won't get to see any of that on screen.

[albertfinch]

WAITING ON THE LORD

It is essential to our spiritual health that we spend quality time in His presence, waiting upon Him. Only then, will we have the spiritual energy to face the challenges, testings, and problems of life.

"But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." Isaiah 40:31

During these times of intimate fellowship, we are brought into a closer union with Him. In the closeness of this communion, we will receive of His life and strength, and along with this, we will come into a deeper understanding of spiritual principles and an unfolding of His Word, which will draw us yet closer.

"...The times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord." Acts 3:19

"Waiting upon the Lord" is the key to a victorious, overcoming life. Throughout the Psalms, whenever David found himself in difficult circumstances, he constantly reminded himself to "wait upon the Lord."

"Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart: wait, I say, on the Lord." Psalm 27:14

It is here in His presence that we will begin to understand the mysteries of the Kingdom. There will be a realignment of our inner being, and our priorities will change from the natural to the spiritual. Our spiritual senses will be energized by His presence and restored to respond to His purposes.

 SOWING TO THE SPIRIT

As we wait upon the Lord, we will experience a genuine encounter with the Lord. Then wherever we go, the result of this "manifest presence" that we have experienced, will cut through every bondage and fear in those who are witnessing the result of our life being the expression of His life.

During these prolonged times spent in His presence, we are "sowing" to the Spirit – enlarging our capacity to flow with the Holy Spirit. It is always costly to the natural man, but this provides us with the occasion to overcome.

Many "early morning risings" may seemingly bear no spiritual experience at all, but the continued lifting up of our desire for Him, along with our worship and the obedience of seeking after Him, rather than things, will in time bring forth within us an accumulative effect that will surprisingly produce a profound spiritual result. We will have "become" a prophetic vessel that is available to Him.

These times of "waiting upon the Lord," in His presence, do not produce quick results, but rather, lasting ones. Jesus commanded us to abide in Him, adding that it will cause us to bear "fruit that remains” as we experience revelation regarding God’s purpose for our life that will advance His Kingdom.

"I love them that love Me; and those who seek Me early shall find Me... that I may cause those who love Me to inherit substance; and I will fill their treasures." Proverbs 8:17, 21

OPEN THE DOOR AND INVITE HIM IN

Indeed, the Lord is knocking on the door of our hearts and our lives. He is seeking to enter in. He is seeking a people that will respond to His knock and that will open the door and invite Him in, that they might "wait upon Him."

Come apart from all activity and sit quietly in an attitude of worship.

Sit quietly in an attitude of worship and expectancy, as if looking at a door expecting at any moment that the door will open, and a person will enter (Jesus).

Spiritual strength is renewed as you bathe in the love of Jesus that flows out from the throne into your heart and back to Him.

Maybe you have felt nothing after several minutes or hours of waiting -- but after the time of waiting, everything that you do is accomplished much better, and you notice a glow in your spirit.

Now you can say with confidence:

"...Let my Beloved come into His garden, and eat His pleasant fruits." Song of Solomon 4:16

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

[mariacallous]

The Republican online ecosystem has gone into overdrive ahead of the first US presidential debate. Lawmakers and influencers are pushing wild conspiracy theories about President Joe Biden, and instead of coming up with anything new, they are recycling tired old allegations that have already been debunked—including claims that Biden will be “jacked up” on performance-enhancing drugs.

“He’s sleeping now, because they want to get him good and strong,” former president Donald Trump said of Biden at a campaign rally over the weekend, without providing any evidence. “So a little before debate time, he gets a shot in the ass. They want to strengthen him up. I’d say he’ll come out all jacked up.”

This is an almost exact repeat of a claim Trump made at a rally in 2020, when he claimed Biden would get “a big fat shot in the ass” in order to debate “better than ever before.” Trump also made a similar claim against Hillary Clinton in 2016. Trump has also called for Biden to take a drug test before the event, which he also did in 2020.

Trump’s comments appear to be part of a wider push by the Trump campaign to control the online narrative around the debate.

Trump’s former White House physician, Ronny Jackson, posted on X: “DRUG TEST BIDEN BEFORE THE DEBATE! Will we see Sleepy Joe, who lives in the White House Basement, or will we see Jacked-Up Joe who made an appearance at the State Of The Union???”

Jackson also spoke to Fox Business’ Maria Bartiromo, who helped boost the baseless conspiracy. During the interview, Jackson went even further, speculating on why Biden and his team were hunkered down in Camp David ahead of the debate:

“Biden will have been at Camp David for a full week before the debate, and … they’re probably experimenting with getting doses right, getting him medicine before the debate,” said Jackson, who is currently running for Congress in Texas with Trump’s endorsement.

Other politicians also weighed in.

“I think Trump’s team should not underestimate Joe Biden and his team’s ability to jack him up on Mountain Dew or whatever it is,” Missouri representative Eric Burlison said in an interview on Fox Business, adding: “Look, the State of the Union this year, he had a lot of energy for about an hour or an hour and a half.”

The network of pro-Trump, right-wing influencers on X and Telegram have picked up the conspiracy en masse, sharing clips of Trump’s comments and the interviews with Jackson and Burlison.

In conspiracy channels on Telegram, influential figures are boosting even wilder allegations about the debate, including multiple different claims that Biden is about to pull out of the debate for medical reasons, and that either a new Democratic nominee will be picked or the 25th Amendment will be invoked and Vice President Kamala Harris will become president. There is no evidence to back up any of these claims.

Brenden Dilley, organizer of the Dilley Meme Team, outlined this week how his group would “hijack hashtags … and push pro-Trump content” during the debate. Dilley, who describes himself as a life coach, was recently criticized for producing a video that called for the creation of a “unified Reich.” The video was posted on Trump’s Truth Social account.

Right-wing media figures and Trump supporters are also spreading conspiracies about CNN and its alleged pro-Biden bias.

Many conspiracists on X are dredging up a conspiracy from 2020, when they claimed Biden had been given the debate questions ahead of time by CNN. The claim was repeated on Tuesday by Fox News host Jesse Watters, referring to an article written by Hillary Clinton about the debate. “Hillary is giving Biden the answers and CNN is probably giving Biden the questions.”

This particular conspiracy is inspired by a nugget of truth: In 2016, former CNN commentator Donna Brazile tipped off the Clinton campaign to an upcoming question in a primary debate. There is no evidence, however, that CNN has leaked questions to Biden’s campaign in 2020 or ahead of Thursday’s debate.

Meanwhile, perennial troll and former Trump adviser Roger Stone dredged up yet another old debate conspiracy, this time around the wearing of an earpiece. Back in 2020, Trump supporters and the Trump campaign pushed the lie that Biden had worn an earpiece and a wire during a debate, providing no evidence beyond blurry screenshots of a crease on the president’s shirt.

“No ear pieces!” Stone posted on X on Wednesday. “Trump should demand that Biden be carefully inspected to ensure that he is not wearing some deeply embedded high-tech earpiece before the beginning of the CNN debate.”

QAnon channels shared even more extreme conspiracies that, once again, are recycled.

In one channel run by a member of the JFK–QAnon offshoot—which believes Biden has been arrested and is being played by an actor—a member claims that “Biden should not only take a Drug test … he should take a DNA Test before the debate with Trump … Because in all likelihood, it may not be Joe Biden.”

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Daily Light on the Daily Path by Samuel Bagster

Daily Reading for October 22nd

Psalm 108:1 A Song, a Psalm of David. My heart is steadfast, O God; I will sing, I will sing praises, even with my soul.

Psalm 27:1 A Psalm of David. The LORD is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the defense of my life; Whom shall I dread?

Isaiah 26:3 "The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, Because he trusts in You.

Psalm 112:7,8 He will not fear evil tidings; His heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD. • His heart is upheld, he will not fear, Until he looks with satisfaction on his adversaries.

Psalm 56:3 When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.

Psalm 27:5,6 For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle; In the secret place of His tent He will hide me; He will lift me up on a rock. • And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me, And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the LORD.

1 Peter 5:10,11 After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you. • To Him be dominion forever and ever. Amen.