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sasa-gay-yo · 4 years ago

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Just Us (Chapter Seven: Calculating)

← Chapter Six

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“So… um, it’s the Spring Equinox and all. We usually do something. You know, you, me, some friends; like we always do. Are you… are you going to come this year?” I turned to Jonas who was leaning on a box of flour. How could he so easily forget moments like that? He confessed to me and then the next day seemed to completely forget. Months later when it seemed he had an in, he didn’t even go for it. Talk about being uncompetitive.

“Will there be as much drinking as there was last year?” It was monotone and I glanced over to the corner spot. Garrison. Last year, the girl Jonas was interested in and I had to drag back him and his three friends from outside Wall Sina and they slept on the floor of the bakery while I offered her my couch. During the process of wrestling them inside, Jonas had somehow stripped naked and his friends were trying to follow suit. I try to keep that memory suppressed.

“Probably yeah. You know the spring wine is the best… but you’re still kinda sic-” I nodded and help up my hand to stop his excuses.

“You’ll probably have to drag me home this year. I’m in.” He smiled, but it was bittersweet, knowing I wasn’t going to hang out with everyone and socialize. I’d probably just sit under a tree and drink my sorrows away.

“Eva, you-” The sounds of horses outside broke him from his sentence. Some people went out and others just turned back to their food. The Scouts were slowly dwindling in number as they were waiting for the new recruits to come in from training. No one was enthused that they were coming in and out and those who would go and watch them come back were sadists. I turned my back and went to busy myself with some invisible work at the back table.

“You know, if he did something to you to-” I grasped the table. He says this almost every time they march outside of my café.

“If who did something, Jonas?” He felt the venom in my tone and decided not to push forward. I coughed for what felt like the hundredth time and it broke the tension.

“So, uh, next week. I’ll come to get you when we leave. Should be after five. We’ll all get dinner and take it out.” He took the money off the counter and went out of the store, probably to go glare at the Scouts who were walking by.

If he didn’t come this Saturday that marks three months. It also marks the point where I get the message and I’ll forget about him all together. I had forgiven him the first month. He didn’t know how to deal with emotions so he needed some time and maybe needed to kill some titans. The second month came, and an extended break for weather conditions, but yet he didn’t come anywhere near Trost. I even went through one cold and caught another one just waiting for his ass. I wanted him to reject me already so I wasn’t getting let down on the daily.

Here comes my surprise when Saturday one rolls around, I’m still coughing and sneezing, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Even the old ladies stopped coming. I guess they were more wiser on when to give up.

Damn. That was something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Giving up hope. Even he said that he’s afraid I’d give up hope because of him. Well, here we seem to be.

I shouldn’t let a shorty who doesn’t know how to process emotion take away my hope.

The bells rang above the door and two nightshift Garrison members walked in. My least favorite people, always coming 30 minutes before closing asking me to serve them fresh coffee to keep them awake. They never failed to make my mood worse and this oncoming headache wasn’t going to go away with their shouts. Last month, I had to kick out a few of them because they were talking so nastily about the Scouts. I couldn't bear it and neither could my head. I still had hope in the Scouts as a whole, especially hearing they were getting new recruits, and one person wasn’t going to ruin that. Hopefully, the fresh meat would propel them like it did last year. Hm, maybe fresh meat was not a good way to describe the cadets.

The bell above the door rang again and I looked up to be face to face with the Wings of Freedom. At least one Scout was using their day off, a tall one at that. A contrast to shorty. She had rectangular glasses strapped to her face and auburn hair in a ponytail. She came in smiling crazily too. A big contrast.

“Are you Eva with the peppermint tea?” I had to do a double take and even blinked a few times before answering her. I sneezed again before answering.

“Um, yes. I think that would be me. Who’s asking?” She sharply reached out her hand and I shook it. Ouch, she had a hard grip.

“I’m Hange Zoë, a squad leader for the Scouts Regiment. I’m here to escort you to the Scout HQ. Do you have the peppermint tea?” I blinked again, not moving. She wanted to take me where? The last place I wanted to go, that’s where.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” She laughed out loud, not caring if anyone looked at her. Yeah, she really wasn’t at all like the Scouts I meet on a daily basis.

“No, no. Not at all. In fact, I almost have no idea why I’m taking you there. Well, a little bit more of an idea than you have. Personally,” she leaned in and whispered behind her hand, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you since I saw you at the festival, but shorty wouldn’t crack.” It wasn’t a whisper and I’m sure if anyone was at the first few tables, they would have heard it.

“A-and if I don’t come with you?” She shrugged and crossed her arms.

“I’ll drug you and drag you myself.” I stepped back from the counter and she roared with laughter, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Do I look like someone who would do that? Well, maybe... but If you don’t come, I’ll have to deal with an even more upset Captain and I don’t want to do that!” Captain? He ordered her here?

“Did the Captain send you to get me?” She pushed her glasses up and leaned one arm on the counter.

“I guess I should’ve led with that. Levi said, ‘Eva with the peppermint tea,’” she imitated his voice and facial expression, “I had to go to three coffee shops in Trost to find an Eva. Two streets down is a Freud and about a half mile behind you in a cute old couple. I didn’t think the Captain would want them that badly. So when I walked in and remembered seeing Captain talk to you at the festival, I knew I hit the jackpot.” She snapped at the end making a point to her adventure to find me. The Garrison members were now staring at her, too. They probably knew about her better than I did.

“Why does he want me to come to HQ?” She shrugged again, but this time without a death threat after.

“I don’t know, but shorty is very adamant about it. I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream, but that made him even madder. Anyways, I was hoping you’d come and bring the tea and a...” she looked down at ink on her hand, “ a tea set. Captain Levi broke his on the first day of the year. How unlucky is that?” He was adamant that I come? That’s stupid. How adamant can he be when he’s had three months to do it. He probably just wanted to make it easy for someone to drag me away from him when he rejected me. Either way, I was intrigued.

The Garrison members groaned when I shoved them out the door to lock up a few minutes early.

I shouldn’t have gone really, but I had no excuse. Maybe I just wanted him to reject me like I said and then have a sad ride back to the café. However, Hange coming in and saying all those things made me much more concerned about his mental wellbeing than what he was going to say to crush me. And if he was making me come all the way there, was he going to give me bad news? I don’t think he’d be that mean, but I have never faced the real Captain Levi before.

Hange had given me another cape, and some tissues for my nose, saying that it would be easy to have me come in unnoticed because the new cadets had just showed up. She just hoped I didn’t get caught sneaking around by Erwin and thrown into combat training. This woman was saying stuff that was making me scared the whole ride there. I was on a horse too, so that made my anxiety worse.

The Scout HQ was a huge ass castle and I didn’t think it would look at all like this. The barracks in the capital were just a big square building with some pillars. This place was gigantic. Hange made it a point to name every section of the castle so I somehow knew right away where I was going. I was going to the Officer’s Wings.

“It’s a shame though. We’re leaving this place soon for a new one the government issued. It’s not as nice, but it’s smaller because they don’t think we need such a big place… Well, it’s true, but… they didn’t have to say it like that, you know! I’ll have to move my whole lab!”

The hallways were also tall on the inside. It was an actual abandoned castle. I wondered who had lived in here before the government got ahold of it. She even stopped by to show me the throne room that they had converted into the mess hall. It’s like I was on a field trip, but at the end of it was the school leader’s office. Why was I being summoned by him? Was he not good enough to come to the civilian’s café anymore? Annoying prick.

“Here is Captain Levi’s quarters. We just transferred him back today, but he’s still a bit sore from not moving around much. I hope that once he gets his peppermint tea that he’s moaning about, he won’t be so rude to everyone anymore.” I balanced the tea set and bag of tea in my hands as she opened the door for me.

“Transferred?” She waved her hand like it was nothing as shut the door on me. It was like she threw me into the wolves. She didn’t even want to be. I didn’t know she was just going to leave me like that because my nerves just skyrocketed.

His office was like he described. Half the size of the capital, but still with big windows in the back. This time, they were turned to the way of the sun. There was a single, full bookshelf against the wall on the left with another chair in front. This time the chair didn’t seem as uncomfortable as the ones in the capital. He wasn’t sitting at his desk where I thought he’d be. As soon as I saw the crack in the door and dim light peaking through, I knew he was in his bedroom. Why?

We just transferred him back today. Well where had he been?

I decided to sneak up to the little cut out in the wall which held a singular hot plate. If I could make tea, I could prolong the time I didn’t have to talk to him. Why did I even come here in the first place? It’s not like I like this guy anymore or would bend over at his will. Just a rejection, yeah, that’s what I came for.

Taking a single, short step, I tested the floors, hoping they didn’t squeak. Once I was in the clear, I slowly started to tiptoe towards the opening. If I went fast near his door, he wouldn’t even see it.

Achoo!

I held the tea set, but it rattled mercilessly in the box. Oh fu-

“Hange?!” Oh, yeah, he was definitely in the bedroom. Now, I’d just stand here with my eyes closed and hope I didn’t look too bad when he opened the door.

Who am I kidding, I literally hopped on a horse to get here on a whim. I’m bending so far over for this man it’s ridiculous.

“Hange, I told you it was the sixth café down off of the turn we make on the main drag. It’s hard to,” there was a wheeze, “h-hard to miss.” I stood there for a while, but he didn’t come out or open the door. In fact, there was no movement coming from his room at all.

“Hello?!” It was harsh and was followed by another sharp intake of air. It dawned on me then. Transferred. Was he injured?!

“Um, hello?” I finally answered and looked again to see if he would open the door now. Still no movement and now no answer. Maybe Hange messed up and he didn’t want me he-

“Did you bring the tea?” I was not expecting that. His voice was instantly softer than before and after months of not hearing it, it made me melt.

“Oh, um, uh, yes, yes I did. And the set, and the set.” I coughed into my arm, masking my cold. If he knew I was sick, he might send me back just because of germs.

“C-come in. M-My room. I already have hot water...” Come in? To his room? His bedroom? Where he’s laying? He hasn’t even come into my bedroom before.

“Um, are you sure you want me in there?” There was a loud groan, probably so I could hear his annoyance too.

“Just get in here, brat.” There was something about him calling me that that made me annoyed and walk slowly into his room. Was it the urge to bicker again?

I opened the door and peaked in, instantly locking eyes with him. I screamed at my heart because just like the first day, it started beating fast again. Shut up. He’s going to reject you then you’re going to go back home and put the tarts in the oven to prebake.

He looked pitiful. There were bandages wrapped all the way around his torso and he was shirtless, but it didn’t look like it. His head had one bandage around it too, but that one seemed pretty useless. More of a headband if anything. It had also been a while since he’s bathed, marked by the incomplete stubble scattered around his mouth and chin. He just laid there, blanket up to his waistband, staring at me. What had happened and for how long was he like this?

My anger and inhibition to come inside subsided and I set the tea set down on the floor. There was no chair for me to sit on, so I just stood. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, my heart still beating out of my chest. He was the first one to break the silence.

“C-Can you make me tea?” It almost came out like a whine coupled with his lack of breath. I crouched down and took the tea set out, looking at the makeshift water kettle he had on his nightside table. This bedroom was so small; there was no room for a desk. His bed was up against the wall only leaving a few feet towards the door and enough room for a dresser and walking space at his feet. No windows.

“You can,” he caught his breath and was silence for a few moments before continuing, “You can sit here, Eva.” He tapped the space next to him on his bed. I was hesitant at first, but the way he said Eva made me almost forget all his wrong doings. How badly did I want to see him again that I was acting like this? So weak for a single man. I sat down on the bed, back to him, trying to ignore his heated stare.

It was the same feeling the night I kissed him. I made him tea, he stared at me from behind, but I couldn’t get close to him this time. That was going to be the difference. I wouldn’t let myself have such a weak will like last time. Go in, make the tea, get out.

“What did you do?” Goddamnit Eva. You weren’t supposed to make conversation like this.

“A newer cadet ran into me while I was trying to finish off an abnormal titan. The titan got a hold of me and squeezed pretty hard before I cut it’s fingers off. The cadet gave me the concussion, and the titan fractured most of my ribs. This was the beginning of February.” Of course he gave me a date. If I went back to that time, I said I was going to let it slide, too. I had given him January off and if he got hurt in February that means even if he wanted to come to the café, maybe he couldn’t… No, Eva, if he wanted to he’d send Hange earlier.

I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream.

“Oh,” I went back to work, taking out the set he left when he stormed out of the café and the new peppermint tea he has yet to drink. No one but him comes in to drink mint tea. Usually it’s just green or black, so the stock I buy is just for him. Imagine me staring at the tea leaves sitting under the counter for hours next to the tea set box willing him to walk into the café. If he wasn’t going to come back, maybe I should just give it to him so he doesn’t force me here again.

“I’m almost healed completely. There’s just one rib that’s bothering me enough to not be able to go back in the field.” It was interesting to hear him talk so much, even when injured. Our roles had reversed. Maybe he felt pressured to talk more than usual. I hope guilt was pushing him.

“That’s good.” I just sat there, watching the tea leaves swirl in the water, and hoping I’d had enough strength to turn back away from him when I gave him his cup.

“What have you been d-doing?”

“The usual.” I picked at my skirt, noticing it was the one I’d worn the last time I’d seen him. When only owning about five, there were heavy odds that would happen. Sadly, this meant the odds were stacked against me. I only won a few bits of luck back when I was, in fact, able to turn back around when I gave him his tea. I didn’t even look in his eyes either.

“Can you help me into the bathroom?” He set the empty tea cup down next to me, making it so I didn’t have to turn around to put it on his nightstand. If I helped him, I’d have to look at him though. This was apart of some plan.

“I could get Hang-” He grabbed my wrist with a bit of force and used his strength to turn me. I also fell on top of him with how hard he whipped me around. This was the first time he had put his hands on me like that.

“Why can’t you even look at me?!” I was breathing hard, but still looking at the blankets on the bed. His hand was bandaged too. We’d traded places in that aspect. I wasn’t going to tell him, but the balm he gave me helped. HE didn’t deserve that information when he was acting like this.

I stood up, taking my knees off the bed, and pulled the blanket off of him. I made sure to fold this so he had nothing to yell at me about again. He got himself parallel to me and needed help to sit up. The was probably going to be the most painful part. You were helping someone who was in pain, there was nothing else to it. I was being a nurse to him since no one else was around to do so.

Reaching for his back, I carefully helped lift him up to a seated position. The amount of curse words that came out of his mouth made my heart squeeze at the pain I was putting him through. It was just pity; you were sad for the man who was hurt. That’s it. I shifted my position to sitting next to him and silently gasped when he put his arm around me and grabbed my opposite shoulder. Minus the time I had kissed him, this was the closest we’d ever been. My mind couldn’t help but take a delight in that.

When we stood, there were a lot less curse words, but they were still there. My gaze was directed at the floor as we walked out and directly to the right into the small bathroom. They really paid no expense to give the Scouts nothing. This was an officer’s quarters too, which meant that he had one of the best lodgings. I bet it was bunk beds and communal showers outside of this wing.

I let go of him and got behind him near the door. I had no idea what he was going to do here, but I knew I’d leave as soon as he started. Would I leave completely now that I’d given him tea? It seemed rude to someone who was in his state. What if he falls or hurts himself again? This wing was so far removed from the others. My weak will triumphs again.

“Can you take off the bandages? There’s scissors on the sink.” How much was he going to torture me before I leave? He’s hurt, just do it, Eva.

I picked up the scissors and walked over to his back, trying to be gentle so I didn’t cut the skin off of him. I put one hand on his upper back and worked from the bottom-up, cutting away at the thick, white bandages holding his ribs in place.

The speed of our breathing matched when I touched his bare skin. Was he breathing hard because of the decreased pressure? I raised one eyebrow, maybe taking that as a selfish clue, and took away the last bandage. They fell on the floor and allowed me to take in his shirtless back. There were bruises that were healing and a few minor cuts, but most importantly it seemed to be all lean, muscle. He wouldn’t care or notice if I was staring, so I took it as payback. Sweet, muscular, gorgeous pay back. If he turned he would have seen my blush.

Yeah, good luck Eva, the feelings aren’t gone.

“I’m going to shower. You can, um, there’s books? I think Hange left something to eat a few hours ago, too. Eat that...if you want.” That was his way of telling me he didn’t want me to leave.

“Okay,” I finished shortly and turned back around, closing the bathroom door. When the water went on, I took a long breath and sunk down against the door. I put a hand to my face and lightly slapped it to wake me up. My face had to be at least five shades redder after that encounter. Was he going to make me put bandages back on him? Would I get to see his front on full display? I slapped my face again and frowned at myself. He wasn’t the only shirtless man you’ve seen, quit acting like this.

I stood up and looked around at his office. There were papers scattered all over his desk, nothing seemed to be in it’s right place, and I could see a layer of dust collecting on the shelves to the right of his desk. It’s not because me cleaning would make him happy, but it’s because I had taken an interest in looking around his office. It would be a disservice to the place if I didn’t look at it in the way he intended.

Starting with the desk, I just pushed papers together and stacked them in neat piles on his desk. It was easy to find a spot because there was absolutely nothing on his desk besides a name plaque, a cup to hold pens, and a stamp that seemed to be his official marking for papers. His office was as bare as the one in the capital. I found a cloth by the burner and used that to wipe down the shelves that were equally as empty. A rusted knife, a small stack of Wings of Freedom cloth emblems, and a cracked, white teacup. I wonder what these things meant to him if he put them over here on display.

I wiped off his desk too and opened the curtains that blocked the sunlight from the windows. His office viewed the training ground as I saw cadets practicing hand-to-hand combat in full uniform. When I finished dusting everything, I sat down in his chair, taking in the full view of his office. If I had a room like this, I’d fill it with something and not leave it so empty. I bet it even echoed.

“Echo… echo,” I confirmed my suspicion. When we talked about remodeling the Scouts HQ, his office had never come into the conversation when it severely needed to.

The water shut off and my gaze snapped to the door of the bathroom. He takes quick showers for someone who was slightly incapacitated. I wonder how long they took him when he was back to normal. Showers should be savored, not rushed; that was my opinion.

The door opened and I just turned the random book of his desk open to pretend I was reading. It was something about the history of Scout maneuvers but I couldn’t understand a thing. He had to know I was lying to him.

“You cleaned?” I glanced quickly up at him and looked back down at the book. Oh gods. He was smiling. Not a smirk or a smile after he insulted me; a heartwarming, genuine smile. Another one worth ten points at least. I wanted to look back up at him. If he smiled like that again, this whole emotionless façade of mine was going to break easily.

He walked over to the small foot rest that was in front of his desk and sat down slowly to face me. I just kept staring at the pictures in the book finally discovering that the Os were Scouts and the Xs were titans.

“Interesting book?” I turned the page and nodded, lying to him. This page didn’t have a picture so I’d have to pretend to be interested in the words.

“Can you even understand what that’s saying?” I’d been caught. I acted like I had finished the page before closing the book and setting it aside. This time, I felt like I was at an appropriate distance to look at him. That was a mistake because he was still smiling at me and I felt my insides melt. He was doing it on purpose. The defensive strategy that I made while he was shower disappeared too.

“No,” I answered truthfully and took in his form. He had put the bandages on himself, thank gods, and was sitting completely straight so as to not hurt his ribs. His face was smooth again, but his hair had grown almost past the tip of his nose. Even like this, he looked so handsome. I leaned back in the chair and started twiddling my thumbs, looking down at them.

“You cut your hair?” He was observant. I coughed before answering.

“I do at the beginning of every year.”

“Are you sick?” His voice was filled with concern and not the tone of ‘If you say yes, I’ll kick you out’.

“A cold.”

“So you haven’t been taking care of yourself.” There was no tea to sip in place of answering his statement. Those words brought back a bit of anger though. The effects of his smile didn’t last long.

“If you cared, why didn’t you come back then?” He sighed and rested one leg over the other like he always does.

“I was sca-”

“Don’t say you were scared. You’ve used that excuse before. Find something original.” It was a lot easier to yell at him when I wasn’t looking at him.

“I didn’t know how to respond.” I clenched my fists. I knew that when I kissed him, but it still made me mad. He was a grown man.

“Usually when someone kisses you, you have two options. Respond back or tell them you don’t want that. You don’t run away from them.” He groaned which made my anger even worse. He didn’t know how to respond to anything I was saying and that made him frustrated too.

“C-Can you come sit next to me?” I looked up at him for the first time, my eyes hardening with emotion.

“No, I won’t.” I didn’t dare get close to him again.

“Eva,” he pleaded and I shook my head again.

“I’m not playing this game anymore, Levi. I’m not going to play pretend with you and ignore the reality of things.” He stood up again slowly.

“Look at this. At me. This is reality. I almost died out on the field because I was thinking about you and not the titans! I called you here to show you that because I don’t think you know how bad things can get.” I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms.

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration again. No, sir, I was the one who could be frustrated.

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I almost died because of one small slip up. Who knows what could happen on the next expedition? You don’t know what it’s like to be outside of the walls or to see people die to the left and right of you! I’m always next.” I glared at him.

“Maybe if we didn’t spend so much time in our pretend little world, you could’ve told me so I understand. Maybe you’d know about my life in the Underground and how you’re completely wrong about me not knowing how bad things can get. You’re the one who did this to yourself!” I hit his desk with my fist and stood up to match him. I wasn’t going to back down. His face went blank again, back into the calculating Captain Levi, not the one who seemed to blurt out things when the emotion came too much for him to know how to deal with it.

“I don’t… ”

“You’re afraid of yourself. If you let yourself really do what you want, it’ll break the little pretend world you’ve made. The one where you’re emotionless and in control of every part of yourself and the people below you. You can’t push away reality and keep playing pretend with me.” He gripped his fist.

“I’m not playing pretend.”

“Then who are you when you’re sitting on my couch?”

“Levi.”

“Levi or Captain Levi?” He shook his head like it didn’t matter the difference.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“They’re two different people. Right now, you’re being Captain Levi. You’re calculating down to your next syllable and not letting yourself say what you want. When you’re Levi, you talk freely and smile and laugh. That’s why we never talk about your life or the Scouts, because you feel you can never talk freely around me about those things. You don’t need to protect me.” He looked down at the floor again, calculating what to say next. It was so frustrating that he couldn’t just speak like he was previously. He always had to be in control.

“Scouts die everyday. There’s no guarantee that I’ll come back. And when I’m back, there’s no guarantee that I can come and see you. I have paperwork and training and duties I have to humanity first. I will always be Captain Levi before I am Levi… since you see a difference in the two.” That changed the pace I was going at. I was going to continue to yell at him, but those last works…

“I’m not going to hold myself back because I’m afraid of what could happen. I recognize there are things I can and can��t control and I live with it. No one can live like that. You would never be a Scout if you lived like that. You would never be a Captain if you hesitated on every move or order you made. Right now, you’re eating yourself up inside because you want to control everything and can’t admit it to yourself that you can’t!” I squeezed my eyes shut, not caring if my words hurt him in any way. It was the truth.

“What will you do when I die?” My eyes shot open and locked with his. That emotion was there again. The sliver of something I could never put my finger on. The soft tone of his voice matched it. When?

“I believe in you enough to know that day will never come.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer and it made him lean forward, grasping the edge of the desk hard enough to make his fingers white. He was only a few inches away from me, but my anger clouded over the want to lean in and taste him again. Did he taste like tea?

“I’ll ask you one more time. What will you do when I die?” I shook my head at him, denying his death, and this time he hit the desk with his injured fist, “Why do you have so much blind faith in people? In me?”

“I was given a second chance at life because an old man had faith in a little Underground girl with burned hands. I believe everyone should be given the same. You haven’t done anything for me to lose faith in you. I don’t go out to see you off on expeditions because I know I’ll see you when you get back.” He seemed to almost collapse down in one big breath, his head between his straight arms, hands still gripping the edge of the desk.

The air in his office was tense. No one had probably ever talked to him like I had just did and my words probably matched the internal dialogue he’s had with himself. He knows that I’m right and that he’ll break down on the inside if he keeps trying to strive for total control.

I stood there looking at the back of his head, waiting for him to speak up. His hands kept clenching and unclenching the edge of the desk like he was thinking everything over again. The fact that he couldn’t control the his emotions in this situation, no matter how hard he tried, was probably beating him to death on the inside. Was he sad because once he rejected me, he’d lose the pretend world where he can relax and there isn’t a need to strive for control? Was he angry at me for speaking to him like that?

“I think I have feelings for you. I’m just apprehensive.” My eyes widened and I looked down at him, still crouched over at the other end of the desk. That wasn’t the emotion I thought he was experiencing. My heart was beating so hard he could probably hear it too. He just… I didn’t expect this to be the outcome of the night.

“What will you do when I die? Just answer the question.” This was his apprehension. He’s had to move on constantly from people who’ve died, outside the wall or under it. He’s strong, but he didn’t know how strong I could be. I’ve watched people die too. I’ve had to say goodbye countless times. I had to make sure he knew I could deal with pain and hurt as well, and not just my own.

“I’ll give you a nice funeral, wait a year, then move on to Commander Erwin.” The tension broke and he let out a huff of air in laughter before standing up. His eyes were back to normal, but this time a lot softer than when he was walking down the street. It wasn’t indifference, it was just from being relaxed.

“I can’t abandon my duty as a Captain. If I have work to do, that comes first.”

“Understandable.”

“It might be months on end where you won’t be able to see me.”

“I guess I’ll just have to get a mistress.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. The orange light from the sun setting behind us made it so I couldn’t stop staring at him now.

“I’m being serious here, Eva.” I sat back down in his chair, crisscrossed, still struck with his face.

“So am I, Levi.”

“I require monogamy.” I think that was him trying to make a joke so I indulged.

“I guess I can live with that. The bakery keeps me busy enough. If I have orders to fill out, that comes first.” I mimicked him and a small smirk crept up onto his face. That’s how I knew he was completely back.

“Understandable, but slightly saddening you put baked goods above me.” There was a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes and went over to answer it. I made sure I was out of sight of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing disturbing my sleep, cadet? Can’t you see my state? I should make you clean the stables for waking me up.” I could hear the nervousness in the cadet’s voice when he answered.

“I-I-I’m so… sorry, Captain! I didn’t know you were sleeping! Squad leader Zoë told me to bring you this!” There seemed to be an exchange of plates and the cadet was still shaking as Levi turned back into the room/

“Dismissed. Don’t come knocking this late again.” He kicked the door closed in front of the cadet saluting him and walked to the desk with two plates of food.

“I see now where the mean rumors come from. He was just delivering food.” He set the place down in front of me, ignoring my comment.

“Not Erwin.” He pulled the ottoman over so he could eat at his desk too. I smiled spooning some curry.

“Why not? I’m trying to climb the ranks.” He shook his head again.

“If you think I’m too calculated, then you’d hate him. That book you were pretending to read, he’s probably gone through that six or seven times. He stays up till dawn thinking about where a single person should ride in our formation to maximize titan spotting. He’ll have no time for you.” I pulled a face and he lightly laughed. Actually laughed.

“I guess I’m just stuck with you, Captain.”

Chapter Eight →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Now, we’ll start getting into actually AOT plot. Did you all watch the new ep today? Only got to see a part of our King’s face :(

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #aot levi #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi heichou #levi headcanons #original character

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kitkat404 · 3 years ago

Note

For a prompt idea, I would love to see a Kate and Eva wedding

I’m just gonna pull this out if my drafts because I’m kinda proud of it, so enjoy!!

...

They get married in the fall, and more than once, Annleigh has to carefully blot away tears before her makeup can run. Kate and Eva both made the executive decision to wear suits for the ceremony, and Annleigh nearly starts bawling at the sight of them.

“Dresses are so hard to move in,” Kate had explained, “and they’re all either too form fitting or too poofy.”

“Besides, we both look good in suits,” Eva had smirked with that statement, “and they’re so much more comfortable.”

In the end, Annleigh thinks, it was the right call to make. Kate and Eva face each other at the altar, nicely-tailored suits making them both stand tall and confident.

“I, Eva Sydney Sanchez, take you, Katie,”

That receives a few laughs from the crowd, including Kate, though it’s very watery.

“Katelyn Rose Dalton, as my lawfully wedded wife, to love and to Cherish, to embrace, and to set free. You took a tired, lost soul, and you made her whole and happy again. And each day, I will be grateful, I am grateful, for everything you’ve given to me.”

As Eva speaks through her vows, Annleigh rests her hand on the edge of the empty seat next to her. She doesn't know who's choice it was to leave seats open in their row for Clark, Farrah, and Chess, but she's grateful for it.

When she glances over, for a moment, she can see a flash of an image. Chess, in a stylish navy blue jumpsuit, trying to subtly wipe tears from her eyes without looking away from her best friend. Farrah, wearing a purple, flower print dress, leaning back in her chair and trying to pretend she doesn't care despite the way her lips twitch with a barely concealed smile. And Clark, looking dapper in a light blue button-down and dark slacks, an easy smile gracing his lips as Eva gazes at Kate with such adoring fondness. He turns his head toward her, and for a moment, their eyes lock. His smile turns sad, Annleigh feels a cold brush against her fingers, and then he's gone, taking Farrah and Chess with him.

“So now I take you, my friend, my best friend, my teammate, and the love of my life, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for now, for always, for the rest of our lives.”

Annleigh turns back to the wedding, smiling as Kate has to dab at a few tears before she begins her own vows.

“I don’t really know how to follow that, and I’m not really good at preparing things in advance, I guess I’m winging this,” Kate chuckles, garnering some laughs, Eva gives her a soft smile.

“So, here I am, looking at you. And this is what I know: I have loved you since the moment I saw you. Loved you an feared you, well, not you, but this. I have been so terrified to love this profoundly. I never thought I was deserving of it, that I would always be left behind and forgotten. But not anymore. For good and for bad, for great and for hard, for the tough calls and the choices that just seem second nature. I am here, I am yours. Eva Sanchez, I choose you. I promise to honor you and cherish you, and while I will not obey you, per se,”

Again, she’s met with quiet laughter, and Eva shakes her head fondly, knowing full well that Kate’s free spirit will never let her be held down.

“I will always hear you, and I will keep loving you, one moment after another, one day at a time.”

They’re both sniffling now, tears barely kept at bay by blinding smiles. Annleigh sees more than a few people surreptitiously pulling out tissues.

Taking that as her cue, Cairo stands from her seat and passes Eva the rings, which have been kept safe in the pocket of her dress until this moment.

With soft, loving eye contact, Eva carefully slips one of the silver bands onto Kate’s finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

“Thank you,” Kate giggles, “but I think you have the wrong ring.”

Eva glances down and, sure enough, the ring she’s holding is just a bit too big for Kate’s smaller hand.

They both laugh, along with many others, As Eva switches the rings so she’s holding the correct one.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

This time, the ring slips over Kate’s finger and stays there, and Kate grins as she plucks the remaining band from Eva’s open palm.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Annleigh stands and cheers with everyone else as the couple locks lips, giving Cairo a small jab in the ribs and a teasing smirk as she wipes away a tear. Her former captain rolls her eyes, never losing her proud smile.

As she watches Kate and Eva dancing later that night, Annleigh takes a moment to reflect on how far they've all come. Sure, they all still have some bad days, but in the years following everything that happened, Annleigh has slowly gotten better. She's not perfect, she never will be, but it's so much easier to pull herself out of bed than it was a few years ago.

Mattie waves to her from where she and Reese are doing a very jazzed-up version of the Macarena, and Annleigh smiles a little bigger. She drops a flower beside the three candles that have been lit near the door to the outside gardens and joins the rest of her team on the dance floor.

...

Why is it from Annleigh’s perspective? That’s a whole different story XD Sorry it took me so long to answer this, writing vows is hard, but I’m really proud of how it turned out and I hope y’all like it as much as I do.

#we are the tigers #my writing #kate we are the tigers #eva we are the tigers #kateva #annleigh we are the tigers #cairo we are the tigers #reese we are the tigers #mattie we are the tigers #chess we are the tigers #clark we are the tigers #farrah we are the tigers

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

Text

But Once a Year (5/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

————

Rating: T Word Count: 10K — canon had to catch up, and stuff had to happen, and happily ever after requires some adjectives AN: Guys! This is a completed story! One I had absolutely no intention whatsoever of writing. For that am even more grateful than usual that you all clicked and read and said very nice things. It’s always an absolute joy to write about these two idiots falling in love. I hope your holidays were fantastic, and January is very kind to you, and I am taking suggestions as to what I should write in 2021. (Or: if I should just post a bunch of fic I’ve already written, there’s so much fic already written)

Ao3 links in the reblog, because Tumblr’s tagging system is something of a colossal joke.

————

She’s got no idea where Killian went.

Especially impressive since they haven’t left the house yet, but the house is also fairly massive and there are a lot of people and some of them have magic, and most of them have weapons, and one of Emma’s knees cracks when she crouches in front of Hope.

Who is wearing pajamas that match Lucy’s, and holding a stuffed animal whose right arm appears to be holding on by a quite literal thread, and has absolutely no idea what’s going on.

It’s a strangely positive thing.

“You’re going to be ok,” Emma tells her daughter, which she hopes isn’t the lie it feels like. “Everything’s going to be ok. We’re just—we’ll be back soon, alright?” That’s not really a lie, either. Depending on how the next ten minutes or so, go. And part of Emma expects impatience — from the other adults nearby, magical or otherwise, but a quick glance over her shoulder only shows Mary Margaret wiping away tears, and Regina’s lips have all but disappeared behind her teeth, and the overall tightness of David’s jaw cannot possibly good for any of his teeth.

Taking a deep breath is an exceptional challenge.

“For presents?” Hope asks, and it takes Emma a moment to understand the question. Nodding hurts her neck. And, like, her heart.

No one turns off their Christmas tree in this future, it seems. Colors splash across one of Hope’s cheeks, what feels like several thousand emotions and at least a dozen internal organs twisting in Emma’s center and she barely manages to rasp out, “yeah, of course,” before there’s moisture in her eyes and her vision is going blurry and at the very least it’s comforting to know that one of the steps in her parent’s house creaks too.

“Emma,” Regina murmurs, and she’s nodding again. Hair brushes the hand that’s landed on her shoulder, as warm as ever, but there’s tension in the move as well and Killian’s lips don’t shift when Emma tilts her head up.

Something’s going on. More than the obvious. And she wants to ask, she does — but the worry churning in her gut moves to the center of her throat, and makes it impossible to voice questions or demand anything more than what he’s already given, and they’ve got no idea how to get her back. Except for—

Killian’s eyebrows lift. Ever so slightly, barely enough movement that it should even count, but Emma’s become something of an expert on his face in the last few days, and she can’t blink away the tears fast enough. Mourning something that’s happened and hasn’t, and absolutely needs to.

She can’t ruin this.

Plastering a wholly unnatural smile on her face, Ruby lets out a huff of air as she marches forward and scoops Hope into her arms. “For presents,” she repeats, “Mom wouldn’t miss that, would she?” Emma shakes her head. Seriously, every inch of her aches. With those pesky emotions and magic, and she cannot fathom how she manages to stand back up without falling over, but then there are fingers tangled up with hers and she’s brushing strands of hair away from Hope’s eyes, and leaning forward to kiss the bridge of her nose and—

“I love you.”

Whispers flood her ears, soft enough that for a second Emma truly believes she imagines them, but none of this has been the dream she’d convinced herself it had to be, and the sound isn’t as terrifying as it should be. Is like the excitement borne of picturesque Christmas mornings, and a ridiculous number of cookies, and magically-maintained snowmen.

Killian’s eyes widen, ever so slightly. Part two.

“Dor and I’ll stay here,” Ruby says, seemingly unconcerned with whatever’s happening between Emma’s ears, but Killian’s staring again and Emma’s barely breathing and she probably nods if the movement of her hair is any indication.

More instructions are doled out, plans Emma only half listens to while also trying to stay conscious and it’s only after the screen door slams behind them that she realize she doesn’t actually have a weapon. She’s fairly certain she won’t need it.

Because she’s absolutely positive this is going to work.

Well, she hopes at least.

“Don’t let go, ok?” she mumbles, mostly into Killian’s shirt and he kisses her hair. More than once, like he’s trying to reach a quota and that’s only kind of depressing, but then there’s magic stretching around them and inching up the back of Emma’s calves and she hopes she hears what she thinks she hears.

When he mutters “never” in her ear.

If there were any doubts that they were dealing with the disintegrating fabric of reality, they’re all immediately dismissed as soon as Emma opens her eyes. Trees bend in the middle of their trunks, broken branches littering the ground as what feels like genuine electricity crackles in the air, sending sparks that occasionally rain down like they believe they’re drops of water and allowed to do that.

Clouds that look suspiciously familiar, but lack that hint of magically-induced purple, blot out any sort of light in the sky. They’re puffier than they should be — the clouds, and also Emma’s eyes because she might be crying again, and she’s not particularly knowledgeable about meteorology. Still, she’s seen more than one curse broken and this isn’t quite the same. The lack of color dries out her mouth, although that may also be because she suddenly can’t catch her breath.

Magic tugs at her brain and her muscles, rising up in defense and something that isn’t really bravery. More like fear, at what the clouds can do and what they’ve already done, and the soft whoosh of Killian’s sword leaving its scabbard is far more comforting than it should be.

Wearing those pants with the sword belt is something Emma doesn’t want to forget. “Kinda looks like they’re eating everything in their way, doesn’t it?” she breathes. “Like, it’s—pulling everything up out of the ground, wrecking it at the foundation.”

“Not exactly ideal, is it?”

“You’re making jokes.” “If I don’t know, I’m fairly certain I’ll fall over.”

Scoffing, Emma licks her lips, and that doesn’t do anything except momentarily wet her lips, but her heart’s also trying to explode and the pop of Regina’s teleporting ability is loud enough to make both of them flinch.

“Oh shit,” Henry mutters, wielding his own sword. Both of those things are going to take Emma some time to get used to. Which she doesn’t have.

Not when tiny whirlwinds explode around her ankles, caking her jeans with leaves and dirt-filled snow, and she briefly wonders if that’s because of her or just bad timing on their arrival. Feels like an insult all the same.

“So, uh,” David says slowly, “what do we do about this, then?” Rolling her whole head seems like an entirely excessive response, but Emma supposes Regina’s never been one for subtlety and it is still kind of impressive when she does the flame thing. Fire jumps between her fingers, like one of those bouncing balls on sing-along VHS tapes, and really the answer is pretty simple. “Emma needs to leave. Weeks ago, if we’re being frank, but—” “—We’re not being frank, are we, Your Majesty?” Killian interrupts, low and a little more pirate than he’s been since Emma woke up here. Regina tilts her head. Her neck muscles don’t appear to be dealing with the same limitations Emma’s are.

“How do we do that, though?” Ella asks. “We’ve—I mean, we’ve tried just about everything haven’t we? Zelena’s spell didn’t work.” Regina hums. Looks a little smug, but with a hint of worry that’s also oddly comforting in a slightly vindictive way and there’s no warning before Tinker Bell appears in front of them. Smaller than usual, with wings that move as quickly as a hummingbirds and Emma’s eyes widen so quickly they manage to water even more and it’s easier to hear Killian’s soft laugh when he pulls her against his side.

What looks like sparkles, but may actually be pixie dust floats in the air, Regina’s sigh of impatience barely passing her lips before Tinker Bell is a full-sized person again and that full-sized person looks as terrified as the situation demands and— “Wonderland’s gone too,” she announces. “I only just got out.” Emma’s eyes are going to fall out of her face. It will be gross and undoubtedly uncomfortable. “Out. What does—what does that mean, exactly?” “What it sounds like. It was—” Shuddering, Tinker Bell wraps both arms around her middle, as if she’s trying to ensure she doesn’t fall apart either, and guilt appears to be the prevailing emotion threatening to sever Emma’s spleen at the moment. She’s only partially confident as to where her spleen even is. “Those,” Tinker Bell continues, pointing up at the clouds advancing on them, “they’re…cannibalized versions of magic.” “Oh,” Henry says, “gross.” Mary Margaret sniffles before she kisses him on the cheek. He’s holding Ella’s hand very tightly.

“It is,” Tinker Bell agrees, “because it’s all wrong. Broken, even. The opposite of what you’ve created here. Anything unified is gone, shattered from the inside out and—” “—That won’t stop, will it?” Emma asks, already knowing the answer. It’s been the same since the start, but it was so easy to fall into this start and live this life and she’s hardly noticed Regina. Lifting her hands towards the clouds like she could fight them, or stop them and her electricity metaphor had been almost accurate before.

Lightning explodes from Regina’s palms, feet a bit wider than usual while a muscle jumps in her temple, and the first brush of Killian’s thumb against Emma’s wrist makes her flinch again.

The clouds pause. For a moment.

Seem to shudder against the force of Regina’s power and strength, but there’s another crack and a branch that slams into the ground with an alarming speed, shaking the ground under yet a different pair of Emma’s boots, and, well—

That’s that, as they say.

Only they don’t ever mention the shadow-type vines that also explode from the ground. And for a breath, Emma’s not there. She’s sitting on different ground, in an entirely different realm, while her sword half hangs from the makeshift belt on her back and lights dance in front of her eyes. Blinking doesn’t do anything. Breathing heavily only makes the sound echo in her ears and air heave out of her lungs, and Emma can’t get her bearings. Is being twisted and torn until she’s certain she’ll be ripped apart. Right there, in the in-between, and—

No.

Giving in isn’t an option. She’s got people to save, and a kid to get back and a life to live. And the hand squeezing hers is tight enough to pull her back from a variety of edges. In any version of reality, she’s sure.

Head falling forward, Emma slams into something solid and that’s probably not another metaphor. Blades flash at the edge of her vision, both David and Henry moving quicker than she’s ever seen, while Mary Margaret slings arrow after arrow at something that isn’t entirely substantial and Killian’s hook moves under Emma’s chin.

At one point she might have thought that was a threat. She’s the world’s biggest idiot, obviously.

“No,” Tinker Bell replies, far later than is conversationally acceptable, honestly. “It won’t. Nothing will last if you don’t go back, Emma. It all hinges on you. That’s why Pan did this in the first place. He knew what you meant, to the whole world.” She groans. Like a goddamn hero.

“That might be a little heavy, Tink,” Killian mutters, and Emma makes another noise. Disbelief and charmed and wholly endeared, plus that other thing that she knows will make all the difference and at least eight of her knuckles crack. When she curls them into his shirt.

Patterned, naturally.

“Are you quoting things?” He nods. “You think it’s very cute.” “I’m not sure you could ever really be cute.”

“Is this honestly happening right now?” Regina snarls, sweat dotting her brow and Emma barely notices. Can’t really pull her eyes away from Killian when he’s smirking at her like that. “Flirting at the end of the world?” “Seems as good a time as any, doesn’t it?” Emma challenges. More pixie dust falls on the forest floor, shining brightly for a few prolonged seconds. That’s something of a confidence boost.

For Emma. And her feelings. And her plan, half-cocked as it may be.

“Expand on that for me,” Killian grins.

Keeping her head lifted is one of Emma’s more major successes. At least recently, and while her muscles don’t entirely appreciate it, the jut of her chin makes it easier for Killian’s fingers to ghost over the edge of her mouth and push into her hair and—

“Your eyelashes are unnaturally long,” she says, and the grin widens. “It drives me nuts.” “Does it just?” “Yeah, from like—the get, really. At first I thought it was a fairytale thing, y’know…have to be painfully attractive to be part of the story, but—” “—You end up in the book eventually.”

Heart explosion is not nearly as painful as Emma assumed it would be. If anything, it just makes her feel like she’s floating a bit and her magic gives her a buoyancy that leaves her lighter and softer and she turns into the palm cupping her cheek. “Spoilers,” she chides. “What do you—what do you think happens?” “When you go back, you mean?” Emma nods. Doesn’t really want the answer. Might actually be terrified of the answer, because the timeline is as knotted as it’s ever been and time travel is way more trouble than it’s worth. She’ll probably kick Peter Pan too, just to cover all her bases. “Will you,” she whispers, and holding Killian’s gaze is something of a rather disappointing miracle, “will you all—” “—I don’t think so.” “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

One side of his mouth tilts up, eyeing her with passing amusement and that other emotion and his fingers trail towards the chain hanging around her neck. “Between the vaguely twisted compliments and the actual insults, I’m not entirely sure this is going to work, love.” “What isn’t going to work?” Henry asks sharply, swinging his sword through a shadow.

Grunting, one of Regina’s knees buckles as she continues to fight against the cloud and Ella’s back pressed against hers only just manages to keep her standing. “Get on with it, already,” she hisses. “Or at least try it.”

Nerves explode under Emma’s skin, racing up her arms and threatening to drown out the magic that’s as strong as it’s ever been because the magic is clearly smarter than her, and it’s unreasonable to think she’d be able to deal with that exact shade of blue in Killian’s eyes.

“You make sure I’m alright.”

He blinks. Fair, honestly. Words keep tumbling out of Emma without much thought, but she needs him to know this and this might be the crux of everything else and she’s nodding again. “Over and over,” she continues, “when we’re on the Jolly, and I’m—” “—In the crew’s quarters doing pull-ups.” “You remember that?”

“I’m rather attracted to you, you know that right?”

Laughing with tears in her eyes is as patently absurd as it is nice, and the shadows inch closer. “Could probably do with some reminding every now and then,” Emma admits, “but I, uh—that’s what happened before, too. Sitting outside the Echo Caves and you were supposed to be asleep. Showed up anyway, to make sure I was alright. You always do that.” “Something of a habit.” “So you’ve mentioned.” Humming, there’s not really any way for Killian to get closer to her, but he certainly tries and Emma hopes she doesn’t forget that either. She’s not entirely sure how her memories will deal with everything they’ve been through in the last few weeks. And, like—her life, but that sounds kind of melodramatic. “You don’t need me to take care of you,” Killian says softly, “but it’s—making sure you’re alright is like…making sure we’re following the right course.” “Am I the star in this analogy?” “Several times over,” he replies, “and it’s easy to follow.” “Oh, what was that about backhanded insults?”

Warm air brushes her face when he exhales, nosing at the tear stains her over-abundant emotions have left behind. “I have no idea what will happen,” Killian whispers, as if he’s speaking only for Emma and she supposes that’s at least partially true. “I doubt we’ll disappear, not when it appears time’s much less of a straight line than I originally anticipated, but Her Majesty was right. Nothing’s set in stone, love. That’s half the fun.” “Sounds like a hell of a gamble too.” “Aye, but you’ve also got a pirate who’s rather willing to cheat on your behalf.” “Did you use weighted dice?” He kisses her hair. The edges of her eyes. Down the bridge of her nose and just above her mouth, which is really a very cruel tease, but if they were running out of time earlier, then they’re operating on borrowed minutes now, and Emma’s calves almost audibly object when she pushes up on her toes.

“Just sleight of hand,” he says, “it’s very impressive, I know.” “Something like that, yeah.” “This wasn’t fair to you, Swan. To—to be thrown into this, and I can’t…”

Shaking her head, she’s never actually let go of his shirt, so Emma doesn’t have an excuse for how much her fingers tremble. “No, no, no, if you apologize I will step on your foot, I swear to any God you can come up with.” “Several, actually.” “Nerd,” she insults, and it’s as far away from that as it’s possible for a four-letter word to be. Killian’s eyes have gone glossy. “This wasn’t what he thought it’d be. Pan, I mean. He—he thought he’d take me off the board, keep me locked here because I’d be so tempted to stay and I—” A tree branch falls dangerously close to her right foot. “Well, obviously I was, but…” “But?” Emma presses her lips together. Ignores the ache in her legs and the area directly around her heart, taking more pleasure than she should in the overall circumference of Killian’s eyes while her magic practically sings. Soars out of her, until the ends of her hair light and the shadows don’t retreat, but they freeze for a second and that’s all she really needs. “Seeing it all,” Emma starts, “living it, that’s why I can go back. Because I want to live it. No cheating, no advancing to Go. God, fuck—am I really making Monopoly jokes right now?”

He beams. Stares at her like she’s that star, and a few other constellations for good measure. Possibly the Sun too, but Emma’s the one who’s all too willing to orbit around the whole lot of them, and she kisses him before she can think better of it.

“You make sure I’m alright,” she repeats, “ten-thousand times over, until I end up here. And it’s just not better, babe, it’s—it’s a life, a real one. The kind I used to think was some great, big joke, but that house is so big and our kids are so good, and it’s—” Killian wipes away the tears. For the best, really. Since Emma isn’t entirely sure she can unclench her fingers. “I love it,” she breathes, “I love—”

In any other situation, she’d almost resent being interrupted. As it is, being interrupted with the press of Killian’s mouth against hers is one of the better things that’s happened to her. Like, ever. And she’s already pressed up on her toes, so really the whole thing is pretty practical.

Tilting her head, Emma’s grip threatens to rip his shirt and her spine isn’t all that pleased at the arch she’s put it in, but his hand is flat against her back, the kind of steady presence she’s sure she could build everything around. They’ve gotten better at this, she thinks — less frenzied than it was in Neverland, but somehow even better, like they’re sitting on simmer, a low heat that simply exists and isn’t as overwhelming. She’s not sweating, at least. She’s wrapped in cashmere blankets, and comfort and some other word that starts with ‘c’ because Emma’s ability to linger on the alliterative in times of heightened feeling is actually pretty impressive.

At least until Killian’s tongue swipes the seam of her mouth, and they drift a hint closer to frenzied, and somewhere in the realm of desperate and she genuinely does not notice the first band of light.

Or the second, quite frankly.

It isn’t until the colors arch over them, and several people gasp, that Emma realizes they’ve done something fairly tremendous. Beams of glistening magic curl around them, some hanging from the bend of Emma’s elbow and the curve of Killian’s hook, draping either one of their shoulders and falling off the sleeves of their respective leather jackets.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathes, fully expecting Killian’s smile and hoping for his laugh and she’s done more hoping now than she has in the first twenty-nine years of her life.

Henry clicks his tongue. “Oh you can say it, huh?” “I’m your mom, that’s how it works.” More laughter, as out of place as ever, but the light doesn’t disappear immediately and Killian’s jaw has gone slack. “Has that not happened before, then?” Emma asks him.

“You called me babe.” Regina groans again. Henry snickers, ducking his head into Ella’s shoulder, and Emma’s not sure what her parents do, but her mom is definitely crying and she’s crying and there’s something shimmering on the other side of Tinker Bell.

“Told you it’d work,” she says with a knowing smile. “She just needed to get there. And, y’know, be willing to walk away. Which doesn’t sound as romantic as it is, now that I think about it, but might be kind of in the spirit of Christmas.”

Killian rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” Emma nods, “that’s—” She cuts herself off that time, Killian’s fingers lacing through hers so he can give her hand three quick squeezes and that number was probably random. Maybe. True Love’s goddamn Kiss.

“Falling in love with you probably isn’t very easy, is it?”

The tears fall. Drop from the corners of his eyes onto cheeks, one of which has a scar on it and Emma wants to know how that happened. Wants to learn every single thing about him, and them and collective pronouns don’t quite terrify her anymore.

“Not always,” Killian agrees, another strange way of doing it, “but I do always think it’s worth it. For everything we get.” “This?” He nods. “And then some. Because you’re the single most stubborn lass I know, and Pan’s an absolute fool.” “Call me lass again, and see if I kiss you anymore.” “I’m almost confident on that front.”

Smiling doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t affect the muscles in her face, or the overall state of her heart, and that may have something to do with its exploding tendencies from earlier, but Emma’s eyes keep flickering towards that portal and everything ahead of her, and the wave of determination that crests her consciousness doesn’t take her by surprise.

She’s going to get this all back.

Like a Christmas present, waiting under the tree to be opened, and another promise and Killian squeezes her hand again. Before kissing her once more, in a way that doesn’t feel like a farewell, but has a hint of promise and expectation and Emma hugs Henry. And her parents. Glances at Regina, and goddamn Tinker Bell, and hugging Henry again simply makes sense. “Come save me, huh?” he murmurs into her hair. “That’s the plan,” Emma promises. Twisting her neck, Killian’s not more than an inch behind her, but the shadows threaten again, making it difficult to see him and eventually she’ll argue that’s why she doesn’t entirely notice when his hand moves, darting towards her pocket and back so quickly it’s not much more than a blur, and her lips barely brush his before they’re pulling away from each other.

To get back to each other.

“I’m going to love you an absolutely ridiculous amount,” Emma promises, and Killian’s eyes brighten. Brand themselves on all those memories, and even more feelings. “More than I do now, even.” “I look forward to it.”

Bumping her chin against her chest when she nods, Emma’s next inhale is shaky at best, but her steps are sure and she doesn’t feel anything when she falls backwards, or notice the way Regina’s hand shifts ever so slightly.

Her feet slam into the ground. Ground that hasn’t exploded with glowing, vaguely evil plants yet and that’s all it takes to set her plan into motion. He hadn’t remembered, after all. And Emma can only sort of remember now.

Smoke on the water, her thoughts drift through a haze that’s far more metaphorical than she entirely appreciates, and she makes it all of eight larger-than-usual steps before those same feet land on boots and she barely stops herself before she collides with Killian.

A Killian who looks at her like he’s surprised to find her there, but not entirely opposed to it, and whatever thoughts continue to cling to the forefront of Emma’s brain know what else he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to, and that’s not bad, might even be good and great and she can’t remember why her lips feel like they’re tingling. That’s—

Strange, that’s strange. As is the number of times she blinks, and his hook flies to her waist. To keep her steady. Or something. Magnets, maybe. “Swan, are you—” “—Fine, fine,” she breathes, only just able to keep from kissing him. Hard. His lips part slightly when she keeps staring at him, eyes tracing across his face like she’s recommitting it to memory, and she supposes she is, and he was coming to find her. All over again. “You’re here though, right? This isn’t…this is real?” Hair threatens to fall into his eyes, head at an angle that Emma is sure simply exists to torment her. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “I—I don’t know,” she admits, and it only sort of sounds like a lie. Emma shakes her head. That doesn’t help, really. “Is my mom still ignoring my dad?” “Very much so. You shouldn’t be out here, you know.” “Neal’s not dead, though?” “No,” Killian says, lips forming a perfect circle on the second letter. Emma’s staring at his lips. Again, or always. Or whatever, honestly.

“Ok, ok, that’s—that’s good, well maybe not the ignoring part, but we’ll figure that out and we’re going to figure this out.” “Wasn’t a question.” “No it wasn’t.” His eyes narrow, neck remaining at that angle. “Good. It shouldn’t be.” “Awfully confident of you.” “No, no, I’m only confident in you, love.” Something flutters at the back of Emma’s brain — part memory and even more desire, and this feels like something they’ve done already, but that can’t possibly be true and those particular words in that particular order are as honest as Emma’s heard. She must have fallen asleep.

“C’mon,” Killian continues, hand reaching for hers and she doesn’t pull away. She lets his fingers tangle with hers, and every squeeze against her palm is enough to settle her pulse and her magic, and he doesn’t let go of her until they get back to camp. Neither one of them mention how she doesn’t pull away, either.

They plan. Plot, and discuss and Neal’s something of an issue — as is her mother’s pointed and unnecessary romantic advice, but Emma knows her objections fall on deaf ears, especially when that same mother keeps ignoring her father, and she’s not sure she’s ever known fear like she feels in Dark Hollow.

If asked — and Emma can’t imagine why she would be, but she’s at war with her own thoughts and some sadistic childlike-monster who’s already fucked with her more than he should be capable of — she’d argue it was because of what Killian tells her. When I win your heart plays on loop in Emma’s brain, but it’s also because, somehow, she knows he will and does, and fire bursts out of her in the middle of yet another shadow attack.

“How did you do that?” Neal asks, sounding far more surprised than he should and something in Emma’s center recoils at the tone. “Regina. She’s teaching me magic.” Not entirely a lie, not really. But Killian’s eyes snap towards her, and she’s apparently just as good at ignoring things as her mother. “She’s teaching you magic?”

“Yeah,” Emma nods, gripping the coconut in her hand a little tighter. Six months ago, that would have felt like the most absurd sentence in the world. Now it just pisses her off. “I guess she is.”

There’s more, because of course there is. Wendy Darling and Neal are something of old friends, and she’s somehow an even worse liar than Emma, but the truth means Henry’s death and she can’t breathe. Can hardly stand, but is also standing closer to Killian and she keeps calling him Killian. In her head.

His hand squeezes hers; exactly three times.

“It’ll be fine, love,” Killian murmurs. Naturally, it’s not.

Watching Henry hand over his heart is a nightmare Emma will see for the rest of her life, wholly unprepared for the way her kid drops to the ground and the strength of her ensuing magic threatens to blind her.

Regina’s not much better, honestly. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out and then there’s magic and a wave of her hand, and—“He’s not dead yet,” she tells Emma, like that’s acceptable, but she’s got no idea what else to do and the growing feeling that she’s forgotten something very important.

Preservation spells are as freaky their name implies, it turns out.

Henry doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, but he also isn’t dead and Emma figures that’s at least one positive. While she’s attacked by a tree, and taunted by Pan and Regina’s admission leaves her reeling just a bit. That is until it turns out Peter Pan is also Gold’s father, and the absurdity of it all makes Emma want to scream and cry and they somehow save Henry’s heart.

In Pandora’s Box.

Really, the rest is a blur — adrenaline mixing with magic and an above-average amount of gasping, and Killian offers Henry the captain’s quarters. Emma doesn’t think before she walks, leading the pair of them towards the door, and there’s a shadow trapped in the sail and they’re on a flying pirate ship, so honestly her knowledge of that pirate ship’s layout should be the least of their worries, but something, something…open book.

“You want to tell me what’s going on, now?” Killian asks, finding Emma what feels like a lifetime later. Hours, actually. Most of which she’s spent leaning against the railing, while trying to breathe in as much salt air as possible and Regina’s still in the cabin with Henry.

“Aside from the obvious?” “Whatever’s got you staring so intently at the horizon.” “It’s calming,” Emma reasons, and there’s some truth to that as well. There’s also something in her back pocket, a piece of clothing that miraculously isn’t totally destroyed with mud and the after-effects of fighting for their collective lives.

“It often is, although you’re thinking so loudly, I can’t help but—” “—Do you think you’ll stay in Storybrooke?”

Killian tenses. He’s close enough that Emma can practically feel the way his muscles tighten, but there’s more to it than proximity, and it’s got to be nearly his turn at the helm. Neal can’t stay up there forever.

“If you think that would be a good idea.”

Rolling her eyes makes her head hurt. She might also be dehydrated. The knowledge that there’s a flask of rum stashed somewhere under the cot in Killian’s cabin is one of the few things keeping Emma conscious. Captain’s cabin. Semantics. She has no idea how she knows that. “That’s not really what I asked,” Emma argues. “Do you—is that something you’d like?”

She shouldn’t be as nervous as she is.

The future is suddenly blurry, and not entirely uncertain, but she fought like hell for it and now there’s this growing sense of optimism taking root in her. Like it’s the foundation for everything else, strong and certain and that’s a rather daunting change of pace for her. The certainty, not the adjective choices. Gold made it so David could come home too. They all get to go home. So, Emma doesn’t move very quickly when she turns, just presses her lips together and—

Hopes.

Pixie dust requires a certain amount of belief to work, after all.

“I would,” Killian breathes. He leans forward, or Emma leans forward, and it genuinely does not matter because there are mouths and hands and it’s over before it really begins, the rail of a flying pirate ship threatening to dig into her back. She’s never been more comfortable. “Ok,” Emma says, footsteps coming towards them, “that’s good.”

“You saved him, you know.”

“Motivation’s a funny thing like that.”

“Certainly is,” Killian agrees, “and you had that in spades. I just—” He smirks. The bastard. “Telling you I knew you would makes me a bit of a cad, doesn’t it?” “More than a bit, maybe.” He chuckles, letting his head drop closer to hers. “Why’d you know where the blankets were in that cabin?” “Far too perceptive for your own good.” “I prefer to see it as an acute observation.” “And you’re more than just a pretty face, huh?”

“Sounds suspiciously like you think I’m pretty.”

“Occasionally,” Emma says, standing on wobbly knees again and they’re dancing without music. “I don’t know, really, but we’ll get there, I think.”

Leaning back, Killian’s eyebrows shift and his thoughts practically come with cymbals, but he doesn’t press her anymore and Emma doesn’t actually believe she fell asleep. Outside the Echo Caves, but all of those thoughts feel like dreams now, and Neal doesn’t ask any questions — which is either a victory or a crushing disappointment, depending on which way you look at it, but Emma can’t bring herself to leave the railing, even when the wind picks up and goosebumps prickle her arms and the something in her back pocket is a tiny slip of paper.

Torn at the edges, like the person who grabbed it was pressed for time and flush with determination and she’s never actually seen his handwriting before. It doesn’t make an ounce of difference. Swooping letters linger on the looseleaf, no matter how many times Emma blinks, the words the same and she tries very hard not to rip it. Holding it as tightly as she is makes that easier said than done.

Still, it doesn’t change.

I love you.

As clear as the tears that return to her eyes will allow, and Emma’s not surprised to find him already looking in her direction. She smiles, and goes below deck.

They don’t make it very long before something else gets fucked up.

They barely make it like—two weeks. Pan isn’t dead, and Henry’s not Henry and the whole thing is a disaster that frequently ends with Emma slumped against the nearest wall she can find, the hand gripping hers squeezing at regular intervals, like Killian is trying to remind her of something, but she might just be hoarding every touch and every feeling and it figures.

Standing at the town line, Emma’s not sure how she’s going to get in that car and drive away from this town and these people and her mother kisses her forehead. Softly and almost reverently, and David’s hand finds the back of her head, holding her as tightly as he had in Neverland and Emma knows he’d like to do that forever, but that won’t be possible in five minutes and she’s not going to remember.

Any of them. At any point.

She’s still not sure why the timing of it all seems so important.

“That’s quite a vessel you captain there, Swan.”

Smiling is the only way she stops herself from kicking him, or possibly kissing him and she’s not prepared for what Killian says next. If she ever gets to remember this, that will seem vaguely ridiculous. All things considered.

“There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you.” He means it. Emma knows that, too. As much as she knows she should have said something — a string of words that’s still a little overwhelming, but the sheet of paper basically lives in her jacket pocket now, and for someone who feels as if she keeps bouncing around time, or at least realms, she also continues to run out of it.

“Good,” she says, and one side of his mouth moves. Tugs up while he stares at her, and struggles to step back and everything disappears. Behind a cloud of purple smoke, and a line that’s brushed away as easily as if it had never been there at all, and Emma forgets.

Most of it, at least.

Some guy knocks on her door, knows her name, and immediately tries to kiss her. It’s not the strangest thing Emma’s ever encountered, but that’s because bail bond’s a weird gig, and he keeps showing up. Gives her a note with handwriting that looks suspiciously familiar, and proves even more than that and her hand shakes. While pulling a weather-stained piece of paper from the folds of her wallet, and she’s got no rational reason for keeping it. Not when she’s got no idea why she has it in the first place, but every time she considers throwing it away, something tugs between her ribs and flutters at the back of her brain and the swoop on the top of his ‘o’ is exactly the same.

She doesn’t mention that before she drinks the potion. And she only balks slightly at the word potion , so that’s another victory and— “Killian,” she breathes, memories flying back. Some arrive quicker than others, while a few hang in the shadows and she knows there’s more to the sheet of paper than she’s willing to admit. Magic fights with her, trying to piece together things that don’t entirely make sense, and she can remember things that don’t make sense. Pirate ships, and flashing swords, and a house with enough windows that it likely sets a record.

And a hand slipping a sheet of paper into her back pocket.

“Miss me?”

It’s a joke. A bad one, at that. Especially coupled with a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but Emma finds herself nodding all the same and he doesn’t stumble backwards when she launches herself at him, hugging as tightly as she can.

The paper goes back in her wallet before they leave for Storybrooke.

She’s going to leave. Get back in her car and go back to New York, and raise Henry like a normal kid, but Emma can’t shake the feeling that there’s something inherently wrong with that plan, and it doesn’t have anything to do with wicked witches or newborn brothers, but maybe deja vu for something she hasn’t lived yet, and Killian’s eyebrows fly into his hairline. When she does the unthinkable.

“Come with us, then.” “You’re not serious,” he challenges.

“Like a heart attack, maybe. I just…none of this is safe, and New York was, I mean…you could be part of—” “False memories, based on magical nonsense.”

Shoulders slumping, Emma can’t come up with an argument to that. Only kind of wants to, but she’s not in the book, and Henry doesn’t want to leave. The dreams she keeps having make sleep something of a pipe dream. And she’s something of a mess, but Killian’s a much better dancer than she expected him to be.

And she’s not surprised to find him rounding the corner of Regina’s dungeon, although it’s nice to be saved, even when she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself. But then his arms threaten to crack several of her ribs ten minutes later, and Emma has a few theories about that. None of which she voices, far too busy memorizing the way his thumb feels when it brushes her cheek, and her mother’s not dead.

Doesn’t remember her, but time travel beggars can’t be choosers. Another burst of deja vu rattles through her, and there’s no magic to jump in her veins, but Killian glances her direction all the same and the wand is heavy in her hand. One that’s magical again, a portal home because it is home and you trade your ship for me isn’t much more than a whisper on warmer-than-usual wind. He doesn’t blink when he answers. She’ll think about that for quite some time.

After she stops thinking about how good they are at kissing, because they are exceptional at kissing and it’s very simple. To fall into this head first, the feeling and the emotion and Killian chuckles when Emma’s magic begins to thrum under her skin.

She tells her parents about Neal.

About what he did, and how he did it and their eyes widen so often she wonders if they’ll get stuck like that. Killian’s hand doesn’t leave her shoulder.

They announce the change two days later. Prince Neal is Prince Leo and he’s still as cute as ever, with a tendency to spit up on whoever holds him.

“Are you alright?” “You’ve asked me that like ten times.” Nodding, Killian doesn’t move and Emma can’t imagine what kind of damage this is doing to his knees, but he doesn’t seem inclined to stand up either and she’s finally starting to get some feeling back in her toes. Fingers, too. Which makes it easier to drag the tips of them over his cheek, and his eyelids fluttering shut is a jolt of confidence she’s going to cling to. “And yet,” he drawls, “I’m still very curious.”

“I’m fine,” Emma says, not for the first time and she knows it won’t be the last. He shifts the blanket draped across her legs, tucking it under her side like—“A mother hen pirate.” “That’s rude, love.” “You’re going to give yourself a coronary.” “I don’t know what that means.” Laughing softly, her lips are still a bit chilly when she presses them to Killian’s skin. Warm, like always. Some joke about her own personal sun, and something else about walls made of ice and she doesn’t think before she mumbles, “you want to lay down, or something?” “Your father might challenge me to a duel.” “Not confident in your own sword skills?” “I’m very confident in my skills, but—” “—C’mon,” Emma interrupts, ignoring Killian’s protest when she pulls her arms out of the mountain of fabric covering her, “you’re warm, anyway.”

She realizes she loves him before she says it.

Well before, honestly. And she wonders why that feels inevitable, almost like it’s already happened, somehow but that’s—well, that’s impossible. She should rid that word from her vocabulary. And the inevitability of telling Killian everything she’s feeling isn’t totally surprising, either. Has been coming on so gradually that don’t you know, Emma, it’s you doesn’t knock her entirely off course. Might right her, actually. Direct her back towards some star or something else nautical and decidedly sentimental, and she cannot rationalize how quiet she is when he falls.

Dies, really.

This alternate version of him that still managed to rescue her, and she couldn’t save him and that’s not right. Two-way streets operate in both directions, but she didn’t tell him and everything feels like it stops. Not long enough. Time refuses to linger the way Emma needs it to, lungs threatening to disintegrate, and this isn’t real, can’t possibly be real and Henry’s pulling on her sleeve, telling her they have to go. He’s right. They’ve got to get out of here. Fix it, and give Emma more time, and she doesn’t spend any of it thinking before she rushes up the loft stairs and clings to him tightly enough that they fall over.

That will feel poetic later.

Standing in the center of Main Street, with a dagger in her hand and magic in the air and it’s familiar all over again, another burst of deja vu, and the exact opposite. Wrong, on a fundamental sort of level that she still can’t ignore and she closes her eyes. Thinks of what could be, or what she hopes will still happen, and then she tilts her head up and meets eyes that are far too blue to be fair and it’s easy to give voice to the words she hadn’t before.

That’s nice, she supposes.

Being as consistently confused by her own thoughts is one of Emma’s biggest pet peeves. “I love you.”

“Getting more and more difficult not to tell him. Isn’t it, dearie?” Sighing, Emma doesn’t bother glancing up from the half-finished dream catcher in her hands and Killian’s not going to be happy that he fell asleep. He likes to think he can protect her better while he’s conscious. As if he could protect her from her own mind.

“Do you even remember it?” Rumplestilskin continues, and it’s not really him. She has to keep reminding herself that. “Can see into your thoughts, y’know. And I don’t think you do.” “Shut up.” He doesn’t, of course. “The Queen did something. Changed something, somehow. Can feel the dregs of her magic, clinging to your memories and—” He leans forward. “—So can you, can’t you? Wonder why those scenes that appear behind your eyes every time you blink, feel so real. All that fairy tale fodder, and another thing you’ll miss out on. Strange how that version of your personal prince charming never mentioned what happens to you, isn’t it? Almost as if he’s keeping secrets. Maybe that’s a sign.” “Shut up.” She doesn’t mean to say anything. Responding only ever eggs the apparition on, and Emma’s head feels as if it will split in two. It might help if it did.

Every one of Rumplestilskin’s teeth is on display when he smiles. Like a goddamn crocodile.

“You could likely get your memories back. If you wanted. All that power surging through your veins. Or maybe,” he continues slowly, “part of what you’re feeling isn’t anything more than fate."

"No, that’s not true."

"Sure of that? Absolutely positive? Anything is possible, after all."

And the idea takes Emma by sudden and overwhelming surprise, part of her hating even the thought, but her feet are already moving and she might be running if the stretch of her legs is any sign, and Merlin doesn’t look up. When she slams open his door.

“You know, don’t you?” “Everything you’ve forgotten?” he asks lightly. “Yes, I do.” “What do I do about it?” “Would you like to do something about it?” “Did Regina do something to my memories?” Emma presses, leaning against the door as soon as it shuts behind her. One of his shoulders lifts. “He—the voice in my head…keeps taunting me about it, and I don’t—is any of that possible? That life?” Finally lifting his gaze, Merlin looks exactly as he did in that movie theater Emma only half believes she actually remembers, and time travel continues to be one of her least favorite things. “Depends,” he replies, “on you, and your next question.”

“I shouldn’t know. Right? Shouldn’t remember, I—he was looking at the house. The one I remember us living in sometimes, and I don’t…it’s impossible. To get back to that.” “He already told you it wasn’t,” Merlin argues.

I’ll never stop fighting for us.

Emma licks her lips. Coming up with anything else to say is difficult, and she’s still holding the goddamn dreamcatcher. That makes it easier. To give into instinct, and she’s broken. At her most basic level. Ripped apart and stitched back with pieces that don��t entirely belong to her, and remembering any of it feels like a cruel trick.

Lifting her arm, the whole thing only takes a few moments. Nothing more than a soft pull, and what feels like a soap bubble popping.

“Feel better?” Merlin asks, gaze dropping back to his table and his task and Emma nearly growls at him.

“What are you talking about?” “That’s what I thought. It won’t all disappear, though. Magic’s got a way of leaving a mark, especially magic like that.”

She leaves before he can make any other cryptic announcements, and Dark Ones don’t really need sleep. Emma sits on the bed for the rest of the night.

Dreams happen occasionally.

In the few days between — after the blade broke apart in her hand, and the decision that she won’t take this lying down, fuck whatever the world says about death and Dark Ones — visions start to creep into Emma’s subconscious. Sometimes they aren’t good, are a startling reminder of how it felt to fall to the ground, and the exact way dew soaked through her jeans, or how cold he was when his hand fell away from hers. And then sometimes they’re…not that.

They’re bright, and laughter rings out in the space Emma can’t quite define. Like it’s somewhere she’s been before, lived in even. Happily so. Scents hang in the air, a mix of salt and sweet and there’s almost always an arm curled around her waist, whispers in her ear and the steady press of kisses along her neck. Soft footsteps echo down carpeted hallways, and there’s garland wrapped around the staircase railing. Lining their ridiculous number of windows, and draped across branches of a tree.

For Christmas.

Emma isn’t sure how she knows that, but the snow outside is a good clue and it’s that — the growing desire to make this dream something closer to a reality, and no one questions her decision. To go to the Underworld. The same way she doesn’t second guess her steps as she races towards Killian, blood on his cheeks and nothing at the end of his left arm and he’s heavier than she remembered. Slumped against her chest with his breath in her ear, and it’s not quite the same as the dream, but they’ll get there.

They’ll get there.

Emma repeats the phrase — over and over, stumbling down a path she’s only passably confident will lead them outside, and he squeezes her hand. Three times.

Sometimes they dance.

In the kitchen. In the living room. She’s got this habit of hoarding records, and Killian’s far more interested in antiquing than he’d ever be willing to admit. Emma makes pirate jokes about it.

If only because it inevitably guarantees that spark in his eyes.

The one that makes her shiver, and reminds her of something she can’t quite remember and—she gasps, a hand spinning her on the kitchen floor. Away from the sink of dirty dishes and anything remotely responsible.

“I’m going to get your shirt all wet,” Emma grumbles, but that doesn’t appear to concern him very much. Or at all.

“Good.” “Good?” “Was that confusing?” Killian challenges, metal already working under the hem of her shirt. There are flowers on it.

“You think you’re very funny.” “I think I’ve got fantastic rhythm, and I can hear you thinking from across the room. What’s got your magic so loud?” Without stopping, Emma’s magic responds in kind — a symphony of possibility, and the growing sense of want that sits like a nearly-comfortable weight in the pit of her stomach, and sometimes she tells him. About the dreams, and the scenes that feel like she’s lived them before, and Killian never tells her she’s crazy. Even when Emma wonders if she might be. Instead, there’s simply this look of his own want, crinkling the skin near his eyes and she kisses away the pinch between his brow. Which makes it easier for her to ask— “Why this one?”

“Excuse me?” “This house,” Emma clarifies, and the conversation’s a little late. They’ve been here for years. Watched Henry grow up, and taught him how to use a sword, and watched movies until they could quote them back without a single mistake. So, really she should have figured it out before, but Emma’s had her suspicions. It’s only now that she’s greedy enough to ask about them.

“You know why.” “Would love to hear you say it.” “Pirate,” Killian accuses, without any insult and Emma giggles when he pulls her back to his chest. “And I—well, it’d be nice, don’t you think?” “Yeah, it would,” Emma says. The agreement tumbles out of her with ease, partially because of that aforementioned greed and the memories she can’t shake and Merlin said something to her. About magic’s tendency to leave something behind.

There’s a sheet of paper still hidden in her wallet.

“So,” she continues, “great big house, with lots of rooms and—” “—It’s your choice, Swan.” “That’s not how it works, and you know it. A combined team of planning and feeling and—” He dips her, she tries very hard not to giggle again. Fails miserably. “—Self-proclaimed rhythm. We just…this isn’t just about me, this is an us thing.” The music doesn’t stop. They only kind of do, Killian leaning back with a glint in his eyes that’s different than it normally is and Emma’s not sure when she started breathing through her mouth, but it’s drying out her lips and that’s not the first time she’s said that.

She doesn’t think so, at least.

“I’m a rather large fan of that string of words,” Killian says. “And you.” “Seems like a requirement of marriage.” “And parenting?” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

Kissing him is really the only reasonable option. And Emma considers herself fairly reasonable, although her magic nearly makes a light bulb explode a few hours later and it’s difficult to be annoyed by the smug look on Killian’s face when he’s not wearing any clothing.

“What about Regina?”

Half a dozen heads snap towards Emma, some of them sporting bemused expressions, while others wear flat out disbelief and she doesn’t blink. Her fingers tighten, under the table where she’s gripping Killian’s hand and she can’t seem to get comfortable.

There’s way more of her than she’s used to, and the books claim she’s in some stage called nesting. Which Killian uses as an excuse to make Swan jokes at every opportunity. It might be driving her insane.

So, Emma will use that as an excuse. “What do you mean, Your Highness?” Grumpy asks her, and Killian can’t quite mask his laugh. Even with his teeth pressed distractingly into his lower lip.

“I mean,” Emma starts, “that if we’re going to combine all the realms, maybe having Regina in charge might not be the worst idea. She’s got queenly experience.” “Wow,” Regina says slowly, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” “No it is not!” “Top five, at least.” “You’re ruining this.”

Scrunching her nose is not a normal Regina reaction, but Emma figures it makes sense considering the circumstances and it’s a lot of responsibility. Uniting all the realms is a pretty daunting prospect, that will require enough of her own magic that Killian’s already freaking out just a bit, and somehow Emma can’t bring herself to be frustrated with that. Endeared, maybe.

And absolutely certain this will work.

She doesn’t know why. She looks at the slip of paper in her wallet, like four times a day.

“You’re sure?” Regina asks, Emma nods. “Alright, then I’d uh—it’d be my honor.”

They buy too many gifts. Hope is a baby. One who won’t have any memory of her first Christmas in this absolutely massive house, with a tree that Anton gave them a discount on.

“For milestones,” he reasoned, and Emma resolutely refuses to admit that she cried. But Killian brings it up more than once, and that gets her to roll her eyes and smile against his mouth when he ducks his head to kiss her and Snow White went above and beyond this year. Decorations line Main Street, cookies shared from every business and every person and all those people keep smiling. At her, and them and their kid is way cuter than her brother was.

Emma doesn’t mention that.

Killian does, at least when he whispers it to her while Leo tears apart another paper-covered box, and Hope gurgles in the crook of his arm. And Emma figures this is as good a time as any. To tug the folded envelope out of her pocket, flipping her wrist at the expectant and slightly confused look on Killian’s face. “What’s this?” “A gift,” Emma snarks, barely twisting out of the way to avoid him nipping at her nose. Like some twisted and very attractive Jack Frost. There’s some silver in his hair now.

He uses his hook to open it.

Emma clicks her tongue. So as not to push into his mouth. That might scar the kid.

“I don’t—” Killian says, pulling the scrap of paper out of. He holds it like it’s precious, and it is for Emma, but she also doesn’t entirely understand it and it’s kind of a selfish gift. “This is my hand writing. Why…I don’t remember writing this.” “And I don’t know when I got it. But I have it.” “I can see that.” “No, no, you don’t understand. It’s—I’ve had that for as long as I can remember. Since before New York, at least.” Killian’s eyes flash. To her and possibly through her, and Emma’s shrug is half-hearted at best. “Memories don’t always stick in this town,” he reasons, but it sounds like an excuse. For something she still doesn’t entirely understand.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s been there. Was in my wallet, and I had it in Camelot, babe. Used to pull it out sometimes, when you were—” “—Dead?” “God bless us, every one.” His laugh lacks any real amusement. It’s not very festive. “I’m going to ask you something,” Emma says, fully prepared for the way his lips curl.

“Eventually you’ll bypass the proclamations, Your Highness.” “Why do you squeeze my hand? You do it all the time.” “Do I?” Blotches of pink appear on his cheeks and he might want to lie, but his ears can’t and that’s not as weird a sentence as it should be. “Only three times, you realize?” “Don’t insult me like that.” That laugh is better. Purer, more like him and Emma’s magic flickers when he kisses her cheek. He’s constantly kissing her cheek. And her hair. Temple. Anywhere he can reach, like he’s always looking for a reminder and proof, until Emma knows she depends on it just as much as he does.

“Made it easier,” he says, “saying it without actually using words.” “And the words were…” He doesn’t really glare — that’s against the rules at Christmas, Emma’s sure, but his head lolls and his lips quirk and magic jumps. In her. To him. Whatever, really. “I love you,” Killian says, easy as some other cliche and Hope squirms between them. When they start kissing.

To suggest that what happens next happens suddenly, also makes it seem like Emma is paying attention to anything outside the little bubble of family and feeling, and neither one of those things is true. So she can’t say that. Her mother can.

Gasping and yelping, and there’s color everywhere — rivaling the lights that hang all over, because no one does holidays and milestones better than Her Royal Highness Snow White of Storybrooke. Emma curses.

Like a goddamn princess.

Remembering something that hasn’t technically happened yet threatens to make Emma topple over, but she’s really good at standing now and Killian’s arm is around her anyway. That helps. Perpetually.

“What the hell was that?” David demands, with as little grace as any of them can exude.

Emma shakes her head, refusing to blink. Despite the moisture there, and the feelings and she remembers. Has this whole time, kind of. The semantics probably aren’t important, at least not as much as the light is and was and will be.

Perpetually.

She doesn’t answer. Not her dad, anyway.

“I love you,” Emma tells Killian instead, and it takes some time to explain it all later. True Love and its somewhat inconsistent if not equally wonderful tendencies, and while that future in the past may not happen exactly as it had, this is somehow better and Emma was right.

They got here, eventually.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #agh sorry for the incoming reblog but i'd like this to work

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

The Magic of Tupperware

Pairing: Spike x fem!demon!reader

Request: I'd love to see the Scooby gang's reaction to Spike's gf. He hypes her up to be this strong badass who could kill anyone but when she finally meets the gang everyone's confused cuz she's polite & sweet & cute. On patrol with everyone, Spike is super protective of her which leads to him being kidnapped & then GF shows the gang how badass she is as she hunts down and destroys the ghouls who took Spike (maybe some fluffy care for wounded Spike that clashes with her badassery?)

Requested by: Anon

Warnings: Reader is kinda violent. Violence/fighting. Blood mention.

A/N: It’s the longest I’ve written on here, I always get carried away on a back story.

I took liberties with the demon the reader is (Fae is a catch-all I think I just needed something that wasn’t human and wasn’t vampire lol). Use your imagination if you want to be something else !!

You and spike had met in a demon bar. You appeared human, pointed ears was a myth at least in your lineage, and so he wasn’t really sure what you were doing there. You were descendent from fae. You didn’t have wings or anything to that effect, but a spell had been cast on your eighteenth birthday that meant you had strength, reliant on earthly forces for your power. You hadn’t aged much since then, your skin aged much slower than human. You would live a long life, appearing youthful for centuries at least.

He asked you why you were there – you even smelled human. You explained, hit it off, and you have been together for a while now. You had surprised him and confessed your love for him first, leaving him in awe that you were as invested in the relationship as him. Spike hadn’t introduced you to the Scoobies despite being together for a year, although he told you a lot about them. It didn’t stop him bragging about you at any given opportunity to them either.

Spike now lived with you in your little one-bedroom flat, the crypt had been nice and all but you were becoming inseparable and you wanted to share a cosy place together. You had shipped some necro-tempered glass from the manufacturer in LA and had it installed on the sly so that he could be comfortable. This glass meaning he could be in direct sunlight through the windows.

You were kind. Sweet-tempered for the most part. Your strength was often used for good, but perhaps in a more abstract sense than the Scoobies may agree with. You would do anything for him because you loved him so much and you knew without doubt he felt the same for you. However, especially when it came to him, you had a protective streak and it could get ugly.

One of the many times Spike had gushed about you, had left the Scoobies unsure. One, about the actual legitimacy of this ‘significant other’ they have never even seen after a whole year and two that he actually appeared to gush about you. Like, non-stop. Nobody could shut him up.

Spike had been, once again, punched in the face for his suggestion to a problem that launched him into a rant that turned into talking about you, “She’s gonna sort the lot of you right out. One look and you’ll be trapped in her eyes. She’ll kill you. She’ll bloody torture you and laugh while you writhe on the floor like-” Spike cut himself off, you had told him not to brag about you this way. You liked a little mystery and also, you didn’t enjoy bragging the way he did. You knew the slayer wouldn’t like you if he told them of the ways you had killed various demons that threatened either you or Spike.

There was a new threat in town. A vampire cult. Their goal was to turn people and then ‘elevate’ them as a higher being by torturing them until they sign away their un-life to the cause. They were very powerful and bonded by the violence that would break even the strongest will. It was a massive problem, Buffy and the others had been overwhelmed the last time they had faced the group and had barely got away unscathed. This was why they were going back with reinforcements. Buffy had explained that they really should meet you and also, they needed the numbers. It was hard to tell how big the threat from the group truly was from a vague prophetic dream and a half-translated text.

That evening, you and Spike entered Giles’ home and Spike made a show of introducing you to the others.

“This is y/n” spike said, pride in his voice evident, his eyes never leaving yours as he introduced you to the scoobies. He was besotted with you. Nobody else mattered in the room when you were in it. You were perfect, the sweetest person he had ever met rolled up into the tough exterior of someone who could handle themselves at a rate that could match him.

“What a lovely home you have!” You say sweetly, the sincerity acutely evident to the room, “It’s so nice to finally put faces to the names” you went around and greeted everyone individually as if they were Spike’s friends, a pleasant little smile that read as almost shy to the others.

Buffy squinted at you, on guard, but she was still pleasant. Willow and Tara offered you a smile, telling you they liked your outfit. Xander and Anya were both speechless, which should be a day memorialised for years to come. Neither of them were speechless often. You weren’t what they had expected. They had thought you would at least have scales or something. But you were innocent-looking and incredibly polite as you greeted them. Dawn squealed, instantly thinking you were the coolest. Spike had told her so many stories and she had tried twice to follow him to where you lived without luck.

“Oh, uh, well yes. Welcome” Giles sputtered; you were exactly nothing like he had pictured. Xander, Buffy and Willow just stared in shock. You spoke for a while, friendly small-talk with the group that was genuine. You really did want to hear about them, meeting new people was always interesting to you. You were a perfect sweetheart, by all accounts, and nobody could understand how you and Spike had even happened. You opened your mouth to tell them something before someone spoke over you.

“You are not like how Spike described. I don’t believe you could have fought five vampires and a fyarl demon by yourself” the woman, Anya, said bluntly finally finding her voice.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I think” You offer with a pleasant smile, trying to figure out how to phrase what you wanted to say, “He’s said a lot about you all, he, uh- he uh- barely stops talking about you” You finish awkwardly, still smiling at the group. Spike hadn’t told you anything particularly good about any of them, so you couldn’t say you had heard good things. You didn’t tend to lie.

“Love!” He warned, trying to get you to be quiet but you giggled softly and he melted. He pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around you and making sure he was in contact with you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to tell them you’re usually threatening to kill them” you whispered in his ear, punctuating your words with a soft kiss next to his ear, making him smile. He loved that you cared so much that you’d protect him from them threatening him if they found out about that.

“Um, so, patrol then?” Xander asked, not able to stop staring at you much to Anya’s annoyance, leaving Buffy to take control. You would all descend on the graveyard in question together before splitting off into smaller groups to find the threat.

As you all walked towards one of Sunnydale’s many graveyards, you felt a few questioning glances on you and then on the tub you were holding. It was as if they were expecting you to turn on them at any moment. You slowly started to open the lid, their eyes widening in case they needed to fight.

“Oh! I brought snacks! Can’t patrol without cookies” You smiled, offering the younger group some homemade cookies, you had wanted to make a good impression. Spike rolled his eyes at your nature but took one for himself. They were his favourite kind and you had baked them with this in mind. Everyone delved into the tub you brought along with you, grinning wide, except Giles and Buffy. They were a little more wary of you.

Everyone was told to split up. Spike looked at you, silently threatening Buffy to try and split you both up. You and he took the west and the others squabbled among themselves for who would be with who. You left them to it. You walked for a little while, giggling and talking softly as you both were simultaneously hyper-aware of movement around you. Spike heard something and went behind an old mausoleum to check as you walked a little ahead slowly, so that he could catch up.

You were tough. A fighter. One with the elements. One thing that you never quite mastered, however, was the element of surprise. Instead, they had surprised you. Meaning you were caught without so much as a defensive stance at the ready.

“Get off!” You shouted as you were ambushed by several more. It had surprised you, usually you could handle it.

“Mm, this one’s for turning” one spoke as they kept your hands behind your back. One stroked your cheek, liking the fight you displayed. Spike ran up to them, having heard the struggle.

“You don’t lay a bloody finger on her, mate!” Spike shouted, anger lacing his voice, his temper would never cool with the vamps threatening you. Leering. Talking of siring you. Offering something so intimate. It was worse than propositioning sex.

He didn’t wait for the others, who were making their way towards the fight, he just took them on. They dropped you, but everything went slow motion. As you turned around, ready to fight alongside your love, they disappeared as if out of thin air with Spike.

You screamed bloody murder. Looking around, realising they had used some kind of transportation magic. You could feel it. Stupid cults and their powers. They were stronger because there was so many of them. You kicked the dirt where they had been only moments before in anger before turning to the rest of the group who had managed to get themselves over to where you were about two minutes too late. You couldn’t help snapping. Insulting Buffy, the supposed Slayer, for her horrible plan.

“Splitting up never works! You left him to be taken!” You stated, exasperated you had gone along with it just to be polite, “I’ll have to do it myself – here, hold my Tupperware” You start to get mad towards the real target, throwing the object towards Xander who catches it, eyes wide at your change in demeanour. How dare they take your Spike?!

You close your eyes, contacting the elements. Your fae ancestors working with you. You needed to find him and fast. You didn’t like the sound of being signed over to them yourself, much less your soulmate. You started to stalk off, trusting you were being pulled in the right direction. Knowing your ancestors approved of Spike, knew that you needed to be with him. You could tell the group was following you as you turned your pace into a run. You needed to get to him. Fast.

When you arrived at an abandoned warehouse, after a while of almost non-stop running to the outskirts of the town, you sensed there were seven. Seven horrible, evil beings holding your Spike hostage. This wouldn’t do. Couldn’t do. You needed him. You knew he would be fighting well himself, against whatever hold they had on him, but you needed to get in there. Giles tried to get you all to hang back, regroup. But you ignored him. There was a time and a place for pleasantries. You were probably older than him anyway in reality.

Instead, you charged in. A head start on everyone and you were faster than most. They had been torturing him for not breaking and joining them. They had started to threaten him with you, saying they would do worse to you. You saw Spike tied up, horrible angry wounds marked his body. His chest was bare, face bloody and not from a meal. It was his blood. This enraged you. Blood boiling thick and gelatinous in your veins. They had to pay. At a speed faster than the evil group could get their bearings, you were running at them fists raised.

You took the first three out with ease, working on pure rage. The next was more of a struggle as they rounded on you. Spike struggled against his restraints so he could join you in the fight, but he was weakened from the pain they had inflicted. You were tackled by one, restrained your arms above your head. You spat in the vamps face, kneeing him in the groin which loosened his hold on you enough to move from under him and dust him.

By the time you had recovered and were spinning into a brutal kick towards the fifth, the Scoobies had all made it into the warehouse behind you. Ready to fight. But you didn’t give them chance. You were working on pure rage. You took two long knives from your waistband, concealed in a way that not even Buffy had spotted as you cut the rest down mercilessly. Decapitating the final two and leaving them to turn to dust.

The scoobies stared in shock. Each mouth open wide in a mix of awe and horror. Half expecting you to turn on them. But you had no need to hurt them, for the most part they tolerated Spike. The day they didn’t and they started hurting him, was the day they should be scared (Spike had never told you the way Buffy had a tendency to beat him up for this very reason. You were strong, but taking on a Slayer would worry him too much – she tended to bounce back even after death).

You dusted your hands off, a satisfied little smile that Spike found adorable before your face drained, you needed to check on Spike. Tend to him. You rushed towards him, he had managed to escape the restraints while you distracted the group by, well, killing them. He had slid down the wall, sitting against it for support – the wounds still seeping blood and he appeared to be a little dazed. You were worried, his face had started to swell.

“Oh, sweetheart… look at you” tears started to well in your eyes at the state he was in. You wanted him well again. You leaned in, a small kiss pressed to his cut lips. The brief kiss telling him how proud you were to him for protecting you, how grateful you were to him and how much you loved him. Would always love him. You were a team and he was so glad you were there with him. Had come straight to get him. He wasn’t sure how long he would have lasted otherwise. He was just glad they had taken him instead of you. He would give himself time and again just so it had been him half-tortured rather than you.

Everyone appeared to have whiplash from your emotions running through so quickly. You had switched from sweet and caring to tough and scary before being back at caring again.

“Tupperware!” You shouted over to the boy who awkwardly fumbled with the tub and threw it back to you. You close your eyes, imagining what you needed to be in there before opening it and magically, it appeared just as you dreamt it. A first aid kit and a little herbal remedy for him to drink. It was items you had transported from your house into the tub. Your strengths were many.

You doted on him. Your touch so light, soothing. You never wanted to cause him pain. You cleaned him up, held him as much as you could without hurting him. The scoobies were at a loss. You were like two opposites, soft and gooey but with hard edges.

You took him back to your shared home, doting on him until he was well enough again. You snuggled up to him, caring for him and occasionally keeping the Scoobies happy (and away from Spike) by helping them instead of him out patrolling, putting his un-life at risk.

You didn’t want him in any danger, knowing that he would always protect you in the way you protected him.

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sunnystraykids · 4 years ago

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Dear darling

You always felt somehow protected, like there was a invisible spirit keeping all the bad away from you. Of course you talked about it, with your friends, your mom, even your grandma. And of course all of them told you that that crazy and impossible.

Everyone but your grandma.

When she heard you say those things she just smiled, when you finished she took you with her into the living room and started to tell you some things.

She talked about guardian angles and how they were given one special human to protect. The story was cute but it couldn’t be true, things like angels couldn’t exist, well that’s what you thought.

One day in winter you were walking home, it was already getting dark and you shivered because of the cold breeze which flew trough your coat. You walked in peace, that was until someone pulled you into a dark alley.

Trying to scream you just choked on a tissue which was pressed onto your mouth and nose. It smelled weird, you didn’t had much time to think about it your sight got blurry.

The last think you felt was being dropped to the floor, the man who tried to kidnap you laying on the floor, clutching his stomach. Someone’s head came into your sight and you were met with a beautiful boy.

Hyunjin has to protect you, he always had plans on how to handle situations and was doing a good job with keeping you safe. But when he saw that man grabbing and knocking you out he just kinda snapped. You were about to faint when he quickly flew down and threw the man to the floor, after that he bend over to take a look at you, checking if you were fine.

What he didn’t knew was that you didn’t faint completely yet, your eyes were still open but it was already to late.

You saw him.

Nothing mattered now, your eyes closed and he picked you up, holding your body close to his he flew to your apartment. Landing on your balcony he opened the door and laid you down on the couch.

Placing himself on the floor in front of you he looked at your face, your long eyelashes touching your pink cheeks, nose red from the cold. You were even cuter close up.

Suddenly your eyes flew open, sitting up quick you almost let out a scream. Hyunjin just sat there, hands up in defeat.

“Who are you? Why am I here, how did I get here? How did you get into my apartment I’m gonna call the police!” You half screamed, jumping up to get the phone. Your legs had other plans, being still weak you almost fell down again but suddenly Hyunjin stood in front of you, holding you.

That wasn’t possible, he didn’t even move “H-how did you do that?” You shakily asked. And then, when the beautiful stranger started to speak it was like music to your ears. “Please calm down, I won’t hurt you you’re safe with me. I brought you here. Please sit down for a while you’re still weak.” His voice immediately calmed your nerves and somehow you felt safe with him.

Letting him lead you back to the couch you watched him as he went to get a blanket and a glass of water, how did he know where everything was? When he handed you the glass your fingers touched just the tiniest bit but you swear you felt some kind of electricity.

Finishing the water you looked at the boy in front of you, he just looked back at you. Something about him wasn’t normal, he seemed different. “So” you started “I’m a bit confused” he smiled and you could swear that the room brightened up a bit. “Yeah sorry, uhm, I saw that guy touching you and I knocked him out, then I brought you here.”

“I get that, but how did you get into my apartment?” He stood up and sat beside you. You shifted a bit at this sudden action. Looking at him with wide eyes as he took your hand you noticed that it was bruised. Maybe that happened when you had hit the hard ground earlier. He laid his other hand above your hand, your smaller one now being covered by his two big hands.

You felt a little tickle and then, when he moved his hands away again you couldn’t believe your eyes. The bruise was gone.

Open mouthed you stared at him.

“I’m your guardian angel”

You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, your guardian angel? “I’m sorry what? How is that even possible, things like angels don’t exist.” Hyunjin just shook his shoulders. “Can I ask for your name?” You asked softly. “It’s Hyunjin” the boy smiled.

“Hyunjin.”

From that day on Hyunjin and you became friends, he’d visit you even if it was risky. He never told you but you weren’t supposed to see him, you shouldn’t even know that he exist. It was dangerous for Hyunjin but he couldn’t help it, you amazed him, he adored you and wanted to be by your side forever.

Time passed and the two of you stared to become more than just friends, and one night you had the courage to kiss him. It was short and sweet but also filled with love and adoration. That night the two of you fell asleep cuddled up under a big fuzzy blanket. You were so happy, he made you feel so special, like you were the only person in this world that mattered.

However, that happiness was blown away when you woke up the next morning. You were alone and shivered because you were cold. “Hyunjin?” You called out, but there was nothing. Running trough your whole apartment you looked for him but he was nowhere to be found. Sitting back on the couch you let out a sigh, and then you saw a letter in the little cafe table in front of the couch.

Dear darling,

I’m so sorry if my writing’s messy but I have to hurry. They found out about us, you don’t know who I’m talking about right? Well, the other angels, god, I don’t know it yet. But what I know is that I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to put you in danger so I have to but believe me it breaks my heart. Don’t be confused, I didn’t tell you everything. You weren’t supposed to see me, you shouldn’t even know that I exist, but everything happened to fast and I couldn’t help but stay at your side. I fell for you y/n, I did hard. I just want you to know that I love you, I always have. I hope we meet again, maybe in another life, maybe even in this one. Please take care of yourself I couldn’t take it if you’d get hurt.

I love you Sunshine.

Yours,

Hyunjin.

You just cried. Not knowing what to do you fell to the floor, not moving, sobbing, screaming and crying out Hyunjins name and that you want him to come back. All the memories you had with him flooded through your head, you only knew him for a few weeks but he stole your heart. And now he was gone.

Two days passed, you barely ate or slept, just spend the whole day crying about your lost angel. It was night, maybe around 4am the weather was bad. It was pouring outside and you almost got a heart attack when you heard someone knocking at your door.

Standing up you slowly made your way to the door. Opening it you were almost blinded by the lights in the hallway, your apartment was dark most of the time. But when you saw who it was you couldn’t believe your eyes.

Right in front of you stood a soaked Hyunjin, clothes wet and hair in his face. “Missed me?” He jokingly asked, when you realised what was just happening you immediately jumped into his strong arms. He held you tight. Pressing his lips to yours while whispering little apologizes and I love yous against them.

He walked to your couch and sat down, you now in his lap, head buried into the crock of his neck while you cried. Hyunjin just held you tight, stroking your head and telling you that everything’s okay. When you pulled away he wiped your tears away and kissed your nose.

“H-how are you here?” You sniffled “I-I thought it’d be dangerous for you” he just nervously scratched his neck. “Well uhm” he laughed a bit “they kicked me out-“ “What?!” You couldn’t believe your ears. “Hyunjin I’m so sorry that’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have-“

You got interuppted by his lips against yours again. “I’d rather be here with you” he whispered when he pulled away. “I don’t care about my wings or my powers, I just want to be with you. You’re everything I’d ever need.”

“Cheeseball” you whispered before leaning in for another heartwarming kiss. Sitting here in the arms of your guardian angel made you feel happier than ever. Even without his wings and powers, Hyunjin would do everything to keep you safe, he was a guardian after all.

Your guardian.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids stories #kpop #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #angel!au #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin imagines #Spotify

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

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LoL Chapter 39- Periapts

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

How many hermits does it take to find protection amulets? And not bring home even more junk like a target run? And what do they do when the Guild of Gedeon discovers them?

_________________________________________

“Grian, those shoes are worthless for you- you already have wings!” Iskall waves his arms, exasperated by his shopping buddies. In the midst of the Redland bazaar, the hermits have separated out to find supplies they both need and could use. Iskall tones himself down as two Gedeons walk by, the entire area going quiet and watching as the council guildmembers march on. What are they doing in Redland?

“Yeah, but you don’t. You guys could use it though!” Grian buys the sandals without second thought, and without haggling for the price. Mumbo groans. They have yet to even purchase a protection or repelling item- or any amulet. He’s not sure if Grian understands saving money, and can only look away, across the busy, bustling bazaar to see who else is having better luck.

Hypno can’t help but play with the dowsing rods in his hands, only for xB to grab one rod before the two pieces can cross paths. “Those aren’t a toy, give me those things. Do you want to summon a storm?”

“It could be useful! A big storm to battle off a husk storm!” Hypno grins, before patting his hands against his friend’s shoulder. “It’s alright, man, we can grab some talismans right after this. But this is too cool to pass up!”

Together, with xB’s innate kipling knowledge of enchantments, they pick out a few talismans. Wards against harm and unfortunate thoughts. Removing the law of attraction, or at least easing it. Two of the talismans were mass produced, before xB advised Hypno that unique amulets were likely stronger, picking through boxes and glass cases full of strange, vibrant pieces.

But it doesn’t take long for xB to get distracted on his own. Reeling back when he sees it. “Whoa, I didn’t know these still existed! I thought the last of the moodium ores have died out!”

“But xB, we’re supposed to be looking for amulets.” Hypno mimics xB, but he’s grinning. “What even is it?”

“It’s a mood ring!” xB’s voice rises and falls to make it sound mysterious.

Hypno isn’t much impressed. “You mean the trinkets you get from the candy store as a kid?”

“No! Those were inspired by real mood rings. Watch this.” xB slips the ring on, and covers the pink, round cut gem and closes his eyes. Hypno snickers, watching for the stone to change color just because of xB’s body heat. His snicker fades, lip quivering as he feels globs of hot tears fall from his eyes. What the hell, why is he crying? Why does he feel so sad?

“You…” xB’s grin and a wiggle of his bejeweled finger is all he needs to see to know what’s happened. “Asshole! You changed my emotions!”

“No, I didn’t. You were already sad about something, I just amplified that. I also can smell that you didn’t brush your teeth this morning.” xB covers his nose, pulling off the ring before taking a deep, relieving breath.

Hypno isn’t sure what he’s sad about, but it was obviously there. He wipes away the tears, large droplets and streams down his cheeks. Ruining his cool guy attitude, just crying in some random shop in the middle of a bazaar. He looks around for something to raise his epic points, but becomes distracted when he sees three Gedeons roughing up a shopkeep, demanding some kind of council tax he never heard of. In fact, all of the bazaar is quieter than other times he’s been to Redland. As if a nightmare patrols with Sidero’s henchmen. Perhaps that’s what saddens him. Even here, the Council’s influence is felt.

Further down, nestled in an arcade offshoot, Ren, Jevin, and Cleo are in the middle of an intense battle. Not with swords or magic, but words.

“300 rupees.” Cleo declares, holding up the protection talisman. The sigilized stone dangles in the air, twisting and casting it’s armoring gaze out on the bazaar.

“800, little lady.” The portly merchant reaches out, threading his fingers around the cord and starts to pull it back.

“350, and you get to keep your fingers for calling me a lady.” Cleo lays her other hand on the hilt of her sword, smiling a demure grin, her sickly green skin stretching for him to see.

“Fine.” The merchant untangles himself from the fight and the amulet, grumbling under his breath as he takes the money from Jevin’s outstretched hand. “I dunno why people are suddenly buyin’ up all the protection amulets. There some kinda guild war about to break out?”

“Not exactly.” Ren snickers, before trodding out of the tent and back into the sunlight. If he were on Eremita, he’d stretch out and sunbathe, sunglasses perched just so that he can see the clouds make their own creations in the sky. His daydream is ruined, however, when he feels a rap against his rear, tail tucking between his legs.

“Hey boy, wanna get the stick?” Jevin teases, waving a snarled old staff for Ren.

The mixed-up mage isn’t amused- though, the werewolf in him does make his heart beat in excitement to chase a stick. “My dude, I’m not even a real werewolf. I just know I rock a tail and ears.”

Cleo shakes her head. “This is ridiculous. Who would waste 2000 rupees on some stick? These merchants are out of their mind. Now I see why Scar left his home.”

“That’s not just ‘some stick’ li-” The merchant stops when a flash of metal glints against the sun, backing up until Cleo sheathes her sword again. “I- it’s a shift stick. It’s a one time use, takes the holder back in time a minute. A do over, a chance to fix a mistake. Perhaps even more useful than any stone necklace. One of a kind, and for such… unique customers like you, I’ll lower the price to 1500 rupees.”

Jevin pulls out 5 gold rupees, before Ren and Cleo can say anything, and clutches the stick. “Totally worth it.”

“How do we even know if it works?” Ren isn’t sure if it does exactly what it claims to do. They may have bought the most expensive branch in the world, but Jevin refuses to let it go.

“We can ask Xisuma. He can check or something, he’s a smart guy.” Jevin shrugs. They have enough money, especially with how well Cleo’s haggling has gone. They could buy three shift sticks with the money they’ve been given, and still have enough to buy even more talismans.

The three wander along the bazaar, meeting with other hermits on their way. BDubs and Keralis show off an entire chest of shielding stones, while Scar is laden with more golden amulets than anyone. When Cleo presses him on how he managed to find so many unique and powerful charms, he only smiles. “I know a thing or two about the trade business.”

“Those are the dragon spirits on them.” Cub points out the twisting, dancing dragon. Without wings and the white pearl accents, it’s easy to identify which of the spirits is depicted. Ashtios, the Northern Wind Dragon. Another depicts winged dragons, finned dragons, sheared dragons. Fire, water, and earth. The spirits and sages that aided the gods to create the earth, and who provide median between the two realms. Nothing is more protective than a dragon, and they can feel the strength in the spell of each amulet.

Down the bazaar, the hermits jump at the sound of metal clashing and magic being cast. Followed by yelling, Keralis and Doc are chased from a shop. The shopkeep waves her broom at the two. “What kind of freak eats a bug in the middle of my store! Get back here you cretins!”

Doc’s gruff snicker is only matched by Keralis’s whimper. “But it was gonna help us. It was just a noisy locust.”

The two escape from the bazaar, disappearing into the crowds of Redland. BDubs points in the direction his friends just escaped, blinking away confusion. “Should we be concerned about them?”

“Keralis is with Doc, he’ll be fine.” Xisuma waves. “Besides, their grown men.”

“Looks like we weren’t the only ones who got distracted by other goods.” Cleo nods her head at the books in X’s arms.

Xisuma looks offended by the statement, and stutters over his breath to explain himself. ‘The-these are ancient works! They could have important information about dark magic!” He looks at the stick Jevin’s holding. “What kinda crap are we bringing home now?”

“We have flying shoes.” Iskall holds them aloft, Grian preening the white feathers flat against the golden laces.

“Dowsing rods and a mood ring.” xB keeps the metal rods far away from Hypno, who seems all too keen on starting up a hurricane in the city.

“And what we hope is a stick that can turn back time.” Jevin holds it up. “Otherwise I’m going to use this stick to beat that merchant for lying.”

Lucky for Jevin and the merchant, Xisuma can feel the magic in the whorls of the wood. “I’ll say, these are all pretty impressive. Useless for our cause but… temporal magic is difficult. Were all our rupees wasted on things we didn’t intend to buy?”

“Not the Convex!” Cub grins, hefting the smaller of the duo over his head, blue embers gleaming from their eyes. “We have enough protection amulets to destroy whatever Dolios got!”

Xisuma opens his mouth to answer, but another voice cuts through the air, his own faltering and fading against his mask. “Now what reason could you have to go against Magistrate Dolios?” All of the hermits turn, seeing a squadron of members from the Guild of Gedeon, red tassels that mimic the Council’s golden ones fluttering in the wind. Behind them, the broom wielding merchant sticking her tongue out at the hermits. “Wait a minute- I think I’ve seen these scum before.” The center mage points at Mumbo. “You beat me in the duel!”

Xisuma meets his gaze with TFC, both with their eyes wide. Behind him, Iskall rolls up his sleeves and snaps his gloves tight, ready for a fight. Mumbo’s fraught voice whispers out from beneath his mustache. “No one bought any smoke bombs, did they? Anyone?”

The guildmembers hear his words, and three magic circles rise. Mumbo shrieks and hides behind Grian. “Why did we have to send our two best fighters to Alphasgard?”

Wind blusters against the hermits, tearing flags against their poles and sending the bazaar into chaos. Grian’s wings open, flight feathers brushing against the stone walls on both sides of the bazaar. He beats his wings down, and a gale force wind sends the bucket-headed goons of the Council knocking into one another, rolling down and into the mudcaked gutter. “Alright, I think the shopping spree is over guys. Time to bounce!”

One second, the head mage is on his feet, the next he’s collapsed on the floor, snoring. Hypno’s wild purple magic circle twists in his hand, eyes blank and full of sleep while he searches his own mind. Digging through his dreams. The other two wizards slip their way out from the gutter, sharp spines of one’s spell driving forward like horns of a bull. But a dense fog appears in the midday sun.

It’s also bright blue. Beef turns, taking the sudden cover as his chance to escape. All of the hermits follow suit, though Joe remains a few paces behind to follow Hypno. “Blue fog that smells faintly of cotton candy...I would love to study your psyche and dreams one day, my dear friend Hypno.”

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realityhelixcreates · 4 years ago

Text

The Mystic Garden: Sowing

Chapters: 1/5

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG

Warnings: death

Characters: Loki(Marvel)

Additional Tags: Infinity War Doesn’t Exist, Everybody Lives, Mutants Exist In The MCU, The Reparations Of Loki Of Asgard

Summary: Despite S.H.I.E.L.D. becoming a smaller and more selective organization, Loki still finds himself assigned to them upon Asgard's arrival on Earth. Required to perform a kind of specialized community service, Loki is paired up with another outcast, of a kind he is not familiar with: A mutant named Iris.

Loki of Asgard was a very beautiful man.

Loki of Asgard was a very powerful man.

Loki of Asgard was a very dangerous man.

And that was about all that anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. could agree on about Loki of Asgard.

To some, he was an asshole. To others, perfectly charming. To yet more, he was polite, but distant. Funny. Serious. Sarcastic. Aloof. Morbid. Morose. Intimidating. Shy. Threatening. Angry. Flirty. Each person Iris asked described him in a different way.

To Iris, he was a looming presence, staring her down with searing intensity. Her shiny, brand new partner. Joy.

“So you're the unfortunate one.” He grumbled. “Winner of the worst lottery this organization has ever thrown.”

“I'm Iris Devereaux.” She said, holding out her hand. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

He glanced at her hand with a sneer. “No you aren't.”

“Beg pardon?”

“No one is pleased to meet me.”

“Oh. Well. Here's the thing: you don't decide that for me.”

He raised one perfect eyebrow, tilting his head back.

“I don't tolerate men telling me what I do and don't think or feel. Only I can know that. Now, you gonna shake my hand or not, Mister 'of Asgard'?”

Loki harrumphed. “As you demand, Miss 'of the Riverbank'.”

“What?” Iris took his hand and gave it a firm shake. He allowed it, but drew his hand back the instant she released it.

“Your surname. It means 'riverbank'. Didn't you know? Named after a goddess, and yet you seem to have lived humbly.”

“I'm named after a flower.” Iris corrected.

“The flower was named after the goddess.” He re-corrected. “The personification of the rainbow, a messenger of the gods. She who waters the clouds with her ocean-filled pitcher, flying on glowing, golden wings to carry the pleas of mankind to the gods they prayed to. As she connected the sea and the sky, her rainbows connected mankind to the gods. Just as our Bifrost connected Asgard to Midgard with the beauty and magnificence of the rainbow.”

“Oh, please.” Another agent groaned from their nearby work station. Loki glared.

“Well, that's...informative.” Iris said. Was this what Loki was like? Standoffish, unless given something to talk about? He was certainly well-spoken. “I'm pretty sure my parents just had the flower in mind though.”

“A delicate goddess, an ephemeral rainbow, or a nodding blossom on the riverbank: it all paints a pretty picture, does it not?” He asked.

Iris narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“I wonder.” Loki said.

“Will you two just go get some coffee or something?” the other agent snapped. “I've got to finish this by ten hundred.”

“Fine, jeez, keep your vest on.” Iris said. Loki glared once again. “C'mon, there's a thousand break rooms on this old boat. We can take one over for ourselves.”

*****

“Who was that cur?” Loki demanded as Iris programmed the coffee machine for two cups. “Who does he think he is talking to? I am still a prince of Asgard, and a god! No pencil-pushing desk monkey speaks to me that way!”

“Hey, cool your chops.” Iris said, getting the mugs. “The pencil-pushing desk monkeys keep this whole show running. Who do you think runs this boat? Where does our intel come from? Who finds out if it's any good or not? Who does the budgets, communication, tech, cleanup, triage, programming, and supplies? The heroes get the fame, sure, but we're ultimately expendable. These guys own this shindig. Do you like caramel?”

“I...might?” He said, and Iris added a squirt of syrup to each steaming mug, then handed him his. “And you might be expendable, but I most certainly am not.”

“Cheers, bro. I'll drink to that.” Iris raised her mug in his direction and took a long gulp of fresh, caramel coffee. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun.

Loki seemed perplexed, either by the flavor of the coffee, or her casual acceptance of his declaration.

“Not that it will come to that.” He backtracked. “As my partner, you will have the advantage of my protection.”

“Joy. So, your highness, what's landed you here? You aren't exactly known as a friend to mankind. Why join S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He harrumphed as Iris took another long pull from her mug. “You say 'join' as if I was given a choice. This is penance, nothing more. It was decided when Asgard had to relocate here, that I would work for a 'humanitarian' organization. Save lives equal to those whose deaths I was responsible for. Work towards paying off the cost it took to rebuild. And so I perform the Reparations of Loki of Asgard, defending this realm from itself. Once I have accomplished this, I will leave.”

“Mhm. And how far have you gotten?”

“It's only been a few months.” He huffed. “So not nearly as far as I'd like. How did they lure you in?”

Iris shrugged. “Job's a job. This one is steady, has good benefits, and it certainly keeps me engaged. It's no daily grind, that's for sure.”

“But with your power, could you not be a leader of some sort, rather than in a subservient 'expendable' position?”

“Ah. You've read my file.”

“Of course I did. As I assume you've read mine. Prying things. Why do they need so many personal details? But yes. It mentioned that you have an unusual power, beyond others of your type? Why are you not in charge?”

“Hoo boy.” Iris took a seat across from him. “You don't know much about human social structure, do you?”

Loki frowned. “It was never supposed to matter.”

“Well, it matters now. And it's mattered to me my whole life, because I can't just run off home to fairy tale land, so it looks like we both have no choice but to deal with it. You know what a mutant is?”

“I know what the word means, but I don't know how it applies to you.” Loki said, perplexed. “You look like any other human to me, so I assume it is something internal?”

Now it was Iris' turn to harrumph. “Well, you look like any other Asgardian to me, so I guess we've both got something going on under our skin, don't we? Tell you what: you explain to me what a 'frost giant' is, and I'll explain what a 'mutant' is in this context.”

“And if I refuse?” Loki sneered.

“Then I do too.” Iris said simply.

Loki stared at her across the table, the intensity of his gaze as hot as the coffee, and Iris tried her best to pretend to be unaffected by it. It wasn't that he wasn't intimidating, but an unfortunate lifetime of bigotry and constant background danger had given her a skin as thick as wood. Well, her mutation had done that as well.

“I can do this all day.” He warned.

“Alright.” Iris shrugged.

A few very awkward minutes passed, a silence spent sipping coffee, until her supervisor, Chris Timmitz, interrupted.

“Iris! Loki. There you are! I've been looking for you two. Lucky to find you in the same place, you've got a job coming up.”

“Oh yeah? Lay it on me boss.” Iris said. Loki grimaced.

“We think we've got another possible HYDRA shelter, kinda out in the open this time. We need more intel. That's where you come in.”

“It's located next to a forest, isn't it?”

“A meadow, actually.” He said a bit sheepishly. “We need you to, uh, plant some bugs on the property.”

“Ha ha.” Iris said flat-voiced.

“Aw c'mon, I didn't come up with the terminology.”

“Was that some kind of insult?” Loki asked darkly. “Do you degrade your employees?”

“Well, it wasn't meant to be.” Chris explained. “It's not my fault the language is what it is. And what about you? Iris may act tough, but she's really sweet and sensitive, so you'd better act right-”

“Or what?” Loki challenged.

“Chris. Cut it out. We don't have to be chummy, we just have to get the job done.” Iris said. “So give us the details.”

“Right, right. We're starting Tuesday. It seems to be when the fewest people are there...”

****

Iris crawled through the tall grass of the meadow, the plants moving naturally around her, so as to not alert her enemies that she was there. The shelter was an old schoolhouse apparently, that HYDRA agents had taken over, ostensibly to restore the historical building and turn it into a museum...all the while sheltering their agents from the law, and pushing revisionist history in an effort to spread their doctrine through yet another small town. They had done this so many times before, changing the narrative, changing the perceptions of the people.

HYDRA had many heads. It was the symbolism of the thing. Some of those heads infiltrated governments, and worked to influence world policy. Other heads overran small towns, influencing the vote, which served to make the jobs of the others easier.

Some people in S.H.I.E.L.D. likened them to a virus to be quarantined, cut out, and destroyed. Iris saw them as a sickness to be cured. Anyone could change their minds, given reason. The trick was to find the reason. That wasn't her job, and she didn't think she'd be good at it, but she knew that there were anti-radicalization support groups popping up here and there now, and no wonder, with the state of the current administration. Iris knew HYDRA must have gotten their voice very well entrenched into the government.

But Iris was more directly concerned with these little heads, with blocking their progress, slowing them down, and just generally inconveniencing them.

She'd gotten the usual stares and glares, upon entering the little town, but it was hard to tell if it was HYDRAs influence, or just typical American small town prejudice when faced with a dark-skinned stranger. Either way, she wouldn't want to live here.

She settled down in the grass, stretched out on her belly, and the sod began to part beneath her. Loki, who had simply made himself invisible with his alien magics, and crept along beside her, was clearly capable of sneaking with the best of them. He barely displaced a blade of grass. He crouched down beside her.

“We are stopping here?” He whispered. “How shall you place your devices? Will you throw them?”

“No, My aim isn't that good.” Iris said, ignoring his smug “Mine is.”, and beginning to sink into the newly exposed soil.

“Uh...Miss Devereaux...are you aware that the earth appears to be swallowing you?”

“Don't worry about it, it's fine.” She wriggled her feet out of her flimsy sandals and into the dirt. She was positioned to just be able to see the old schoolhouse over the edge of the trough that had been excavated beneath her. That was all she needed.

“Certainly. Nothing out of the ordinary here.”

“You're one to talk. Hand me the bugs.”

There were only three of them: tiny things, no larger than the creatures they were named after. Iris took them, then tore a packet of seeds open with her teeth, pouring the contents into her hands.

“This is going to take me a pretty long time. Couple of days, probably. What I'm going to need the most from you is tending. Every hour, give me something to drink. Every four hours, give me something to eat. Make sure no one sweeps through here with a lawn mower or a fire. I'm not going to be able to move, and will likely be in something of a trance. Sorry I won't be better company.”

“That's a lot of orders coming from one little human.” Loki grumbled.

“My life is in your hands.”

“That's...a bit better.”

She pressed her hand against the earth in front of her, and concentrated.

For some minutes it didn't appear to Loki that anything was happening at all. Then the first of the thin, white roots began squirming out from between her fingers, roping around her hand.

Loki stretched out in the tall grass next to her as the roots slowly formed a ragged, grasping ball of pale worms against her chestnut skin. He remained silent for hours alongside her, dutifully holding a small bottle of water to her lips every hour or so. As she had said earlier, Iris lay very still, and very trance-like, drinking without acknowledging that she even knew he was there.

“Hmmm.” He whispered. “I hate being ignored, you know. I wonder if you can even hear me? Could you explain what it is that you are doing, or are you so far away that you cannot even answer? What would happen if I touched you right now, Goddess-Flower of the Riverbank? Would I break your concentration? Would you even notice?”

He opened one of the little ration packs, half of which were specifically labeled with Iris' name. Within were little brown cubes that smelled deeply unappetizing to Loki, formed from a slurry of many mysterious ingredients.

“A special recipe, just for you? S.H.I.E.L.D. must value you more highly than you have previously stated. Here you go, Bright Blossom.” He held the little cube to Iris' lips, which parted automatically to accept the cube. “And so I have become no more than a nutrient dispensary. How far I have fallen.”

He fed her the cubes, one by one. Every brush of her petal-velvet lips against his fingers tempted him to push them into her mouth, a temptation that brought a chuckle to his own lips. There were only so many games he would be allowed to play, before S.H.I.E.L.D. kicked him out entirely. He wasn't attached to S.H.I.E.L.D., or anyone within the organization, but working for them kept him active, kept him relevant, kept him engaged, and most importantly, kept him out of prison. Community service was infuriating, but he had experienced the soul-crushing torment of solitary confinement, and this was much preferable.

A cold, uncomfortable cell? Or laying in the grass on a warm, sunny day, hand-feeding a pretty girl?

He was very tempted to lay his hand on the small of her back, where her uniform had ridden up just enough to show a strip of glistening skin, but it wouldn't have the proper punch with Iris in this deep trance. Without reaction, there was no fun.

The roots winding their way up her arms were somewhat unsettling. Was this what her file had meant when it noted that she was a 'mutant'? That she could cause plants to sprout? Could other humans do that?

Hours later, when the sun had set, and the roots had wriggled into the soil all around her, and crawled their way up to her shoulders, Iris stirred.

“Mph. Man, I'm sore.” She complained.

“Ah, welcome back. There is a powerful desire I need you to fulfill.”

“Not on company time. There's trees over there, go behind them and, uh, work it out? Also, for next time, I really don't need to know.”

“You flatter yourself, or you underestimate me. What I want, is for you to explain what you are doing. Are you making those plants grow?”

“Oh. Yeah, basically. You read my file; you know I'm a mutant.”

“Yes, but I do not know the significance of the term.” Loki admitted. “Is it this? This magic you wield?”

“It's not magic, it's just...it's genetic. I was born this way. At first it was just little things. Gardens grew better wherever I went, I didn't get hungry as much when there was sunlight, I didn't need to drink as much as long as there was water on the ground. I grew up in a way rural community tucked away in the Everglades. We were real poor, so being outside and having wet and muddy feet was just normal for all the kids.

As I got older, the signs got more obvious. I can do things that plants can do. I can direct their growth, and I sorta...change with the seasons, depending on where I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eh, stick around long enough and you'll see. Anyway, people aren't too fond of mutants, and it got...tough. To live at home, I mean. So I went out into the wild, and I did pretty well there, but S.H.I.E.L.D. found me and offered me something else. Not every mutant is like me. There's a lot of different ways to be a mutant, it's unpredictable. Some folks can fly, others can turn their bodies into metal, and some can heal wounds to their body in seconds. I manipulate plants, and am, in some ways, like them.”

“I see. And you are causing these plants to grow for what purpose?”

“Spying purposes. It's gonna take a few days, but these vines will tunnel through the ground, all the way up to the school house. When they break ground, I'll send one of them up that tree there, another one around the frame of that window there, and the third down the chimney. You saw those little devices? They're holding those in packets of leaves, and will position them so that they remain hidden, but they consist of audio, video, and heat signature recorders. Once I've gotten them in place, we'll leave. That's all this mission is; bugs on plants.”

“Then why am I here?” He wondered. “You seem to have this well in hand.”

“Someone's gotta feed me. And make sure I don't get found out. There's rumors you can make magic illusions. That's probably why. You can hide us both from any eyes or cameras.”

“And I have.” Loki said proudly. “And fed and...watered you, Little Blossom. What else do you need from me?”

“To do it all again tomorrow.” Iris said. Then she dropped her head into the nest of roots, and settled down to sleep.

*****

Iris was awake and in her trance just as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon. Loki had been awake even before that, every swish of grass or crackle of leaves grabbing his attention.

“Rest.” He commanded her. “I have not the need of it that you do. Never forget: I am no weak mortal. You require a large amount of sleep, but I am all the greater.”

Iris had snorted at the bravado, but accepted the cubes he fed her, and fell into her trance, the roots curling further and further around her body.

Loki idly wondered how far the roots would go. Would they cocoon Iris entirely, prompting her to 'hatch' into a new form? Would they drag her down into the earth, entombing her away from Loki forever? Or would they just die back?

He watched people come and go to the old schoolhouse, working on its restoration. They looked for all the world like normal workers; he didn't even believe any of them to be armed. Not all HYDRA agents were combatants, after all. Just as many of them were spies, thieves, politicians, PR specialists and spin doctors.

Ever since what the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents called 'The Big Reveal', both organizations had been frantically rebuilding. S.H.I.E.L.D. more slowly, taking only the best, only the most trustworthy. Loki supposed he should be proud, even though he knew he was only there as a glorified prisoner.

HYDRA's recruits seemed to be skyrocketing, as they took to the internet in search of easily radicalized young men-mostly men, and boys-to bolster their numbers. They found plenty of them, and quickly, but they were sloppy and unpredictable. All too often, one let their ego overcome their loyalty to the cause, an event that almost always led to public confrontation and violence. But the news media-already infiltrated, most likely-was always quick to exonerate or sympathize with a young white man.

HYDRA disgusted Loki, even back when he had 'convinced' a small cell to work with him. No one group knew what the others were doing. There was a severe lack of communication between cells. Yes, Loki supposed it kept them safe from discovery, but he found it inefficient. A waste of potential by people more invested in the pageantry of a secret society, than by the end goal they hoped to achieve.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was little better, in his opinion, but at least its people were more serious about their work. Communication was more open, their goals more achievable. It felt like they made a difference, whether they really did or not. And they didn't waste potential. HYDRA would simply kill someone like Iris, S.H.I.E.L.D. found her valuable enough to spend resources on her. Under Loki's regime, had he succeeded, Iris, and all people like her, would have been of personal interest to him. All of these so-called 'mutants' would have been given places of high honor. Loki did not waste potential.

But that wasn't worth spending more time dwelling on. It was never meant to happen in the first place. When and where he would rule was yet to be discovered, but it would not happen until he was finished with his penance.

He provided Iris with her water, barely able to see her under all the roots. It was no wonder that she could not go into the field without a partner; she could not be ready for combat, couldn't even eat on her own! If they had to run, was he just supposed to tear her from the root wrapping and toss her over his shoulder? Would disconnecting her like that cause her harm?

He would have to ask next time she woke.

A young man approached, wielding an unfamiliar device. Loki was immediately on high alert. Was that some kind of weapon? He wandered all the way up to the verge of the grasses, gazing placidly out over the meadow. This was a HYDRA agent? He was barely out of adolescence! But from what Loki remembered of his brothers youthful declarations of hatred towards the Jotunn, radicalization did indeed start young.

“Naw, I think it must have been a glitch.” He said into his lapel. “There's nothing out here, not even trails in the grass.” He paused, listening. “Naw. Maybe it was a coyote? There's plenty of wild animals that wander around out here. My bro swears he saw a puma last year. Anyway, I'm gonna trim the grass, since I'm here anyway. If you're really worried, come out and check your cameras. I ain't gonna do it for you.”

With that, the young man yanked a long string, attached to a pod on the device, causing the thing to roar to life. Its loud snarl effectively covered Loki's startled gasp, his invisible eyes wide at the noise and the fact that everything within a six inch radius of the device's head was shredded and flung in all directions.

He had to maintain the illusion. But Iris was right in the horrible things' path. It would rip right into her face.

Unacceptable.

Loki rolled over on top of her, covering her body, roots and all, with his own. He ducked his head just as the device passed by. The force was like a high speed whip, tearing at his hair. It would have lacerated his scalp, possibly to the bone, had he been human. It would have certainly injured Iris, whom he kept safely tucked under his body, protected by his armor and tough, godly flesh.

The young man made a few more passes, working his way down the edge of the meadow, leaving Loki with a stinging scalp from his impromptu haircut, eventually leaving after finishing a rough, sub-par job.

Loki kept still, concentrating on maintaining the illusion, now including fresh cut grass. He feared it had wavered under the assault he had suffered, but the young man hadn't seemed to notice. Hours passed with no movement from Loki, just watching as various people came and went, doing their jobs. Eventually they all trickled away.

The sun had grown low in the sky before Loki felt Iris stir.

“Um. Loki? What are you doing? Did something happen?” Iris asked, her voice muffled by his body.

“Pardon me.” He rolled back into the grass as Iris shook her face free of the grasping roots. “Some boy came through here with a horrible device that tore up the grasses. It was necessary to cover you.”

Iris sniffed the air. “Someone cut the grass. Geez, did he hit you? Your hair!”

“Is it bad?” He asked, then covered his vanity. “It doesn't matter. I made good on my word. Here, eat.” He held food to her mouth. It would be almost too bad when this was over. Feeding her was so easy, so satisfying, and his hair would grow back anyway. If only all missions could be this easy.

Iris ate, watching the sunset, Loki laying on his side in the grass next to her, just watching her. Roots and shredded grass decorated her body, cube after cube passing her lips.

“Miss Devereaux, how will you remove yourself from those roots? If I must tear them, will it hurt you?”

Iris shook her head. “No, the roots aren't attached to me. If we pull this off without a hitch, I'll direct them into the soil. But if we have to get out in a hurry, you can tear them; it won't hurt me.”

“That's good to know.” Loki rolled onto his back, hands behind his head. “There is much still to learn about this realm. What is this that you are eating?”

“You sure you wanna know?” She asked.

“I am suddenly less curious, now that you have said that.” He admitted. “They do smell incredibly unappealing.”

“It's fertilizer, essentially. Fish emulsion and seaweed, blood and bone meal, fermented vegetables, all mashed together. Sounds super gross, I know,” She said at his disgusted expression. “But it's really good for me. My body absorbs it so efficiently that there isn't even any waste. Like roots inside me that absorb everything.”

“Are there? Roots inside you, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” Iris said quietly. “Maybe.”

“It bothers you? I see. It removes you from humanity. Sets you apart. And yet, you think that makes you inferior, rather than the other way around?”

“I'm not better than anybody else.” Iris said.

“You think not? Is there anyone else in this world who can do what you can do? How many people have your S.H.I.E.L.D. actively recruited? They came to find you specifically, why would they do that? Because you were completely average? You are a valued agent of a semi-clandestine organization bent on world improvement. You have been partnered to a god. You are above-average, Iris. Why is that difficult to accept?”

“Are you 'above average' in Asgard, Loki? Have you always been celebrated for it?”

“Mostly.”

“I haven't. I've been despised. I've been misunderstood. I've been coddled and hidden away by my parents in an attempt to protect me. I've been discriminated against by strangers, and teachers, and employers, and neighbors whose kids I grew up with. By those same kids.

I walked out into the wild one day, and didn't come back. I never planned on coming back, never planned on seeing another person ever again. But S.H.I.E.L.D. weren't the first to find me. There were two others. There was a man, a strange old man who could fly. He floated down from the sky, and told me that as a mutant, I was naturally superior to all other humans. He wanted me to come with him, said he was building some grand future for mutantkind, as if we were a different species.”

“Who was this man?” Loki asked, intrigued.

“No idea. I told him to leave. It wasn't long after I had left home, and I really didn't want to go back to any kind of civilization. I was kinda fantasizing about becoming some kind of cryptid, you know? The Everglades Swamp Witch, or something like that.

Then the botanists came. A whole group of them, trying to catalog Ghost Orchids. They're endangered, and people keep stealing them, and wrecking up their habitat. But I knew where they were. All two thousand of them. And I convinced them that I was in contact with all the remaining plants, so if any went missing after their expedition, I'd know, and come hunting for them.”

She grinned. “Like I said, Swamp Witch vibes. They even believed me!”

“So you cannot actually do that?” Loki asked. The stars had come out, forming unfamiliar shapes in the night sky. His eyes could pick out fainter lights than a humans could, and he admired the active beauty of this part of the universe while eating from one of the non-specialty ration packs.

“Well, I can, but not automatically. And not that far away. I have to be closer to a plant to really sense it, and I have to be trying really hard. Like, if I wanted to figure out where the nearest maple tree was, I would have to concentrate on that, and block out all the grass. But a maple has a different...I guess you could call it a signature? A different signature than grass does. A Ghost Orchid grows on trees, and is basically just a ball of roots when it's not blooming. Kinda like this-” Iris nodded at the roots tangled around her. “But way smaller. It looks like nothing, almost. They're very hard to spot. But they have that different signature than the tree they grow on, and I can follow that to where they are.”

“So you found all their plants, as if by magic.”

“Yeah, and they paid me pretty well for it, and I sent the money home to my parents, and then the botanists went home and blabbed. Next thing I know. S.H.I.E.L.D. is on my tail.”

“Because you were friendly to botanists?”

“Well...I might have also...sabotaged a development project.” Iris said sheepishly. “But it was right on the edge of the National Park, and I didn't let anybody get hurt! And I'm pretty sure it was dubiously legal anyway.”

The edges of Loki's mouth curled, even as his eyebrows lifted.

“What's this? You're 'shy and sensitive' I was told. Was I sold a bill of goods? Are you, in fact, a naughty little mutant?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Ugh, don't joke. Naughty little mutants end up dead.”

The amusement drained from his face.

“You would be celebrated in Asgard.” He said.

“We aren't in Asgard.” She answered. “The only thing that matters is where we are now. Those guys in there? They'd kill us both just for being born. They'd make it so that no one like us could ever be born again. When S.H.I.E.L.D showed up, in their black uniforms and started introducing themselves as 'agents', I thought that's what they had come for. The government was there to kill me.

At that point, I'd been off the grid for over a year, and I didn't know anything about the S.H.I.E.L.D./HYDRA internet explosion. But when they started talking about rebuilding as a humanitarian organization, dedicated to the protection of people-marginalized people-from, like, terrorist groups and hostile aliens, I realized they weren't there to kill me or arrest me, they were just there for me.

So I didn't make them disappear, and went with them instead. I still send money home to my parents. They don't know where I am, or what I do. They don't know the true extent of my capabilities. I'm not sure I do either. The thing about being a mutant is that a lot of these powers don't get replicated exactly, so we each have to figure ourselves out. There's no training regimen or curriculum for this.”

“So all of this is self taught?” Loki asked, impressed. “I'm not even entirely self taught.”

“You were taught? This all didn't just come from being a god or whatever?”

“No, of course not. The power is there naturally, but it needs directing. Like you, I suppose. You're born with it, but need teaching to use it. I had the best teachers the universe could offer, and was exalted and encouraged. You had only yourself, and adversity. I've seen but little of you, but this seems a great feat so far.”

“A compliment?”

“An acknowledgment. It's good to know S.H.I.E.L.D. has become more discerning in its recruitment. I hear it was more than a little disastrous for them last time.”

“Like I said, I didn't find out about that until after. Though, I guess it's not all that surprising that it happened. There's a lot that can go wrong inside an organization that big, and with that much reach. There's just too much going on; there can never be enough oversight.”

“I know.” Loki said. “I used that against them when I attempted to bring down the planet. Somehow, they still didn't notice the traitors among them.”

“You worked with HYDRA?” Iris asked defensively.

“No.” Loki said. “I used them. I didn't...make many distinctions then, in my interactions with mortals.”

“Kinda seems like you still don't.” Iris pointed out. Loki took a breath and hesitated.

“Moreso than I did then.” He said slowly. “Then, you were just tools. A means to an end. Disposable. Interchangeable. There are so many of you, so it wasn't like any of your could actually be important.”

“Right up until barely six of us beat the tar out of you and blew up your entire army?”

Loki scowled. “That is a misstatement. The plan was always to lose.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“No, I'm serious. Earth was the weakest link in the Nine Realms, and it needed to be awakened. And you were. Spectacularly. Look what it's lead to. S.H.I.E.L.D. was purged, HYDRA exposed, and your world made ready for the arrival of Asgard. You've been opened to higher interactions, as a progressing member of the Realms.”

“Uh huh. That was totally the end goal, right? Inter-species altruism? That was what filled your heart while you blew people up?”

“Norns, no!” Loki snorted. “I hated every last one of you. I took a special delight in destroying that which was weaker than myself, never think I didn't. It's just...It wasn't entirely up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...I mean that losing was an act of defiance that sparked off the strengthening defense of Midgard, which I continue to participate in. Doing small jobs for S.H.I.E.L.D., rubbing out the likes of HYDRA and A.I.M., all of this contributes to this strengthening.”

Iris regarded him suspiciously through her framework of roots.

“You sound like you're running some sinister, behind-the-scenes shadow plan.” She accused. “You wanna explain?”

Loki smiled, a wan, false thing.

“Do you want some water?” He offered instead.

Iris rolled her eyes. “You're not gonna distract me.”

“And I am not going to elaborate further. Your curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied, or supplemented by your own imagination.”

“Hmph. Why'd you even bring it up then?”

“I? I think you'll find our conversation naturally meandered in this direction. That does not mean it must come to the conclusion you desire.”

“So this is what Abby meant when she said you were a pain in the ass to talk to.” Iris grumbled.

“I was not put here to satisfy Abby.” Loki said airily. “Who is Abby?”

“She asked you on a date.” Iris said. “You don't even remember her? Harsh.”

Loki shrugged. “She sounds frightfully dull. I may have to play nice for now, but I needn't entertain every persons sordid fantasies. Do you leap through every hoop set before you? Or do you also tell unimportant people that you aren't interested in entertaining them?”

“All right, that's fair.” Iris craned her head back to look up at the stars. “Which one is Asgard? Can you see it from here?”

“You can't.” Loki said. “The star is too far away, too small. And it doesn't matter now anyway. Home is gone, and we must rebuild from scratch. But that one, right there-do you see? Another realm orbits that one, the Frozen Realm of Jotunheim. They were our enemies once, and yours, but no more. Partly because they are under 'house arrest' as it were, trapped on their own planet. My father drove them off your planet over a thousand years ago. Your world actually warmed up without their influence, at least for a little while.”

“There were aliens here a thousand years ago?” Iris asked, incredulous.

“There have been 'aliens' here for ages.” Loki said. “Visitations and experiments, and failed colonies, and raids. Your ancestors were still getting the hang of fire, and there were 'aliens' visiting your lush and beautiful world. Making plans. Then your lot discovered agriculture and metal, and ruined a lot of those plans.”

“Seems like we're good at that.”

“Yes, yes, I was defeated by mortals. I am aware. I was the first to know.” Loki grumbled.

“Wait, does that mean the aliens really did build the pyramids?” Iris wondered.

Loki snickered. “The hubris of humanity is not universally shared. You are known for several things, and your inexplicable drive for monument building is one of them. Visitors did not build your great buildings; you did. They did come to see them though, like tourists. Some of them even took artifacts back home with them. Hopefully they weren't too historically important.”

“That's so rude.” Iris said.

“And you would never have known to take offense if I hadn't told you.”

God of Mischief indeed.

“What other realms are there? Just the nine?”

“Eight now, I suppose. But no. There are many peoples out there. The Nine Realms were just those places that were somehow related to Asgard. Allies, protectorates and...penal colonies, you might call them. But all interconnected, and all at least a little dependent on the others, at least some of the time. That has come to an end. There is a very powerful spot now empty. I fear there will be a great deal of turmoil before things even themselves back out. It would be interesting to see how that all plays out, but alas, I am trapped here for now.”

“Where would you go?” Iris asked.

“Alfheim first, I think.” Loki said. “They like me there. They are much less dour than the Dverguar, less serious than the Vanir, not so boastful and bombastic as Asgardins, not vicious as Jotunn, and nowhere near as hectic and anxious as Midgardians...humans, I mean. They like jokes and pranks, and value magic...perhaps I should have been Alfar? If only I could have chosen.”

“Yeah, I think we all feel that way sometimes. But I guess even gods don't get that choice. Hey, how do gods work, anyway? I mean, I stopped believing in any all-powerful force a long time ago. About when the only answer anyone could really give me as to why God would make someone like me was that I was put here to test faith. My own, or other people's maybe. It made me sick. What kind of 'father' puts a burden like that on a little kid?”

Loki scoffed. “The first mistake that humans make is in thinking that anything can be all-powerful, all-knowing, or infallible. It is a ridiculous fantasy notion, immature and irresponsible. That kind of thinking can only lead to two things: complete disillusionment, or harm to the self or others. I am a god, because I have a singular connection to a certain aspect of the universe, as does my brother, but neither of us are any of those things. How boring, to be all-knowing! How banal, to be all-powerful. And I have known people who seemed to think they were infallible, and the amount of misery and suffering they caused is unspeakable.

No, gods were never supposed to be all that. Greater than others, yes, but omnipotent...no, that's only for people who are overcompensating I think.”

“What's that about a special connection to the universe?” Iris asked.

“The universe is ridiculously unstable. Did you know that? I believe it was a human that posited that reality destroys and remakes itself fairly often in the scheme of things, but by the nature of it, it's impossible to ever know if that's true. Because if reality is destroyed, so are you, and so, you would never know. And if reality rebuilds itself, then that is the only reality that exists, so you would never know.”

“Oh hell, I don't like that.”

“Well just don't think about it. In any case, this instability seems to be occasionally expressed through individuals of particularly resilient and long-lived species, by connecting them to certain random forces. For my brother, it is the natural occurrence of thunder and lightning, those two things being directly connected. For me, it is an expression of sophisticated behaviors. Those forces are ours to deploy and manipulate to our will, and we affect them in the world around us, even as they effect us.”

“So you're just born with it too, huh?”

“So it seems.”

Iris settled back down into her swaddling roots to sleep, leaving Loki to stare up at the stars. The grass-cutting human had mentioned cameras. Loki had shielded them from that kind of surveillance on the way in, just in case. They must be hidden somewhere out in the trees. Could Iris detect such things? Would it be worthwhile to disable any, if suspicion was already on them? Or would that merely draw even more suspicion?

Perhaps while Iris remained incapacitated, actions that might bring more enemies out should be avoided. She did not have his durable skin, after all, nor his speed or strength. But with her unusual and largely unexplained powers, he hesitated in thinking of her as weak. More like...a specialist.

He felt her stir, just as the sun was lifted into the sky, and he fed her her morning cubes. She settled into her work trance almost immediately. Perhaps she was put off by the previous nights conversation, and didn't want more of the same. Perhaps she simply wanted to finish this mission quickly. Surely she too found it boring to lay in the same spot for days.

He watched the people come and go about their work restoring the schoolhouse. How many of them were just regular workers, and how many were enemy agents? Impossible to tell by looking, especially if even the youth were involved.

The sun had not risen particularly high when he noticed a difference. The roots that wrapped Iris' body were thinning; as he watched, more and more broke away from the tangle to bury themselves in the dirt at her sides. It was like watching worms escaping danger.

Finally, Iris pulled her hands from the soil, and pushed free of the roots.

“Alright.” She said. “Bugs are in. Now it's time for us to bug out.”

In retrospect, Loki could admit that he had been too eager to leave. He simply didn't do well with long periods of inactivity. So when he walked into the trees surrounding the meadow, and found himself face to face with a shotgun-wielding hunter, he wasn't too embarrassed. No, what really made him kick himself was when the one behind them held Iris at gunpoint. How could he have let one of these yokels get behind him?

“Who the hell are you freaks?” The one in front demanded. Loki recognized him as the youth with the loud grass cutting device who had ruined his hair.

“Gaw, this one stinks!” The other one exclaimed. “Well what do ya expect? She looks like mud, of course she smells like it.”

“We were just out looking for a...private place, if you catch my drift.” Loki said smoothly, getting ready. “Nothing to get worried about. It's just such a nice day, and we couldn't help ourselves.”

“Gross.” The one behind Iris said.

“We don't want you degenerate types around here.” The one in front of Loki said. “Now hands up, freak. You're way too close.”

“To what, pray tell?” Loki said. Almost ready.

“Don't talk about it, dumbass!” The other one hissed.

“Look, let's just kill them, to be sure.” The one in front of Loki said. “World ain't gonna miss a few freaks. And then nobody knows, and we don't get in trouble.”

Loki lifted his hand in a gesture he knew humans considered to be rude. Both men fired their guns.

Neither of them saw the illusions of Loki and Iris fade away, sprawled as they were one the forest floor, bleeding from the bullet wounds they'd inflicted upon one another.

Several yards away, Loki took his hands from over Iris' ears, and approached the HYDRA recruits. One of them was still alive. Loki carefully wrapped his hand in a cloth he manifested from seemingly nowhere, and casually suffocated him.

He then led the horrified Iris back to their rented car, and got back onto the highway as quickly as he could.

The silence stretched on for several hours, Loki watching the road, Iris gazing out the window at the scenery.

“Why didn't we sneak off as soon as you put up those illusions?” She finally asked. “We were invisible. We could have just left.”

“They had seen us.” Loki said. “They could not be allowed to go and inform their superiors. If there was suspicion that we had been snooping around the school, the entire point of the mission would be moot. Besides, they were extremely rude.”

“Don't joke.” Iris said sharply. “You killed that man in cold blood.”

“I killed him on cold practicality.” Loki corrected. “He could not be allowed to live, and let others know that he and the other one hadn't actually accidentally shot one another. Once anyone had seen us, that had to be the end for them. It is understandable that you might not like that, which is why I would not ask you to participate. But if I am sent on a mission as a protector, then that is what I will do. These were men who wanted to kill you just for being born, remember?”

“They were radicalized. They could have been deradicalized.”

“And how do you propose we were to do that?”

Iris huffed. “Damnit.”

“Sometimes we aren't afforded the choices we would prefer. But don't fret. I will take full responsibility in the report. I know the Director isn't keen on too many work-related killings.” It was part of why Loki took such delight in reporting work-related killings. Just to remind them of who he was, and what he was capable of.

Once they had reached their destination and returned the rental car, Iris called their contact agent for extraction. She wasn't exactly distant, but with other things to focus on, and other people demanding their times, the closeness of the last two days was fading fast.

Oh well, Loki thought. It had been nice while it lasted. But nothing was forever, and all affection was fleeting; he knew that well enough.

But it was a little odd to see her so preoccupied with her phone.

“Have you a Tweety account, or some such?” He asked, trying to strike up a conversation once again.

“Since that doesn't exist: no.” She answered, distracted. “No, there's just...I'm seeing someone, and he wants to meet up as soon as I get back.”

Loki frowned. For some reason, he didn't like that sound of that. “You need rest, don't you?” He suggested.

“Yeah, and it's a little last minute, I admit. But he's an agent too, and our schedules don't match up very often, so we've got to meet when we can, or not at all.”

“That sounds like a difficult arrangement.”

Iris shrugged. “I'll take what I can get. At least he doesn't seem to mind the whole mutant thing. That's kinda important when you're in my shoes.”

“You do not sound entirely enamored of this man.” Loki probed.

“Well...I'd like to get to know him better, but he's very private. Mostly, I just don't want to be alone. It's hard for people like me, you know? I can't just throw a relationship away because it's not some perfect storybook romance. Gotta be more realistic than that. But I sure hope I get a few days rest before I get sent out again.”

It sounded...practical. She had to take her opportunities where she found them. It wasn't as if Loki had never been there. It was perhaps a little sad, since it sounded like she really did want that storybook romance.

Perhaps it was none of his business. It was absolutely none of his business. He followed her anyway, curious about what kind of man made this little flower bloom.

The man in question was not impressive, in Loki's opinion. Not much more than average. Maybe that didn't matter to Iris.

“Bet you're glad to be done with all that, huh?” He asked. “Dealing with that creep couldn't be easy.”

“It wasn't really all that bad, honestly. He-”

“I don't really want to hear about him. C'mon, we have the whole evening! Let's not waste it!”

Loki decided then and there that he did not like this man. Not in small part because he wanted to know what Iris had to say about him.

She took him to what must have been her apartment, and there Loki left. There were a few things he didn't want to know after all.

#themysticgarden #loki (marvel)#loki x ofc

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darkhymns-fic · 3 years ago

Text

The Stars Pull Us Together

Having recently transferred to Luin Academy, Colette prepares to start on one of her first assignments - which she needs to use the school's own observatory for.

She didn't expect to literally run into Lloyd on the way.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 4: Stargazing! Because I need to write at least one modern au fic of them.

It was still early evening when Colette arrived at the observatory, the sun just teetering at the edge of the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink. There were only two of the dome structures, a bit smaller than she expected, just off to the side of the campus grounds and overlooking the undulating hills that made up the Asgard terrain. The autumn season made the air brisk, the wind slightly strong as it tugged at her hair. She had to hug her books close, hunch her shoulders just to withstand the sudden cold.

I just need to get inside, she told herself, feet crunching against the gravel. A hand reached out to the door handle of the first observatory, pulled on it and… found it stuck? Oh…

It took Colette a good minute to realize that this was the wrong observatory anyway, once she saw the construction sign to the left of her, half-hidden in the shadows. Slightly embarrassed, but at least relieved that no one was around to see her blunder, she then walked to the second observatory.

She sensed there was something different here, until she noticed the rows of potted plants that lined the steps and small ledge that circled around the building, from small ficuses to even a charming aloe vera. It was a pleasant spot of greenery over the stark whiteness of the observatory’s walls. There were no construction signs here – unless you counted the little greeting by the small steps (with a small cactus plant placed next to it) that said, ‘Welcome to the Luin observatory! Please watch your step!!!’ The letters looked to be handwritten, and Colette couldn’t help but draw her attention to it, marveling a bit at the multiple exclamation marks…

And by looking at it, she didn’t watch her step at all.

Colette flailed, and by doing so, she had let go of her books to fall to the ground. She was about to crash headfirst into the door until it suddenly opened inward, along with a shout of, “Whoa what-!?”

So she wasn’t the only one at the observatory tonight.

Papers falling around them like lost wings, a groan beneath her chin, and Colette was ready to faint from the shame of not only falling down, but bringing another person down with her… “Ah… I’m so sorry…” she voiced, blinking open her eyes to find herself inside the observatory now. It was mostly bare except for a few laptops on a nearby desk, a coffee maker to the side, and of course, the great telescope that was in the middle, its end pointing upwards to a currently shuttered roof.

Another groan. “S’okay… I kinda walked into that one anyway.”

The voice was familiar to her. Colette looked to see a guy half-seated, one hand planted against the floor. His plaid jacket caught her eyes on the rich redness of the fabric, reminding her suddenly of winter flurries that would freeze her cheeks, and summer storms that always came by so fast, and how he would try to shield her with a broken umbrella… “Wait, Lloyd?”

He blinked, looking so confused for a moment that she wondered if she was mistaken. But the tousle of brown hair on his head, going off in different directions, told her otherwise. “Hold on a sec… Colette! It’s you!”

“Y-yeah!” When he smiled, she was brought back to the boy with the scuffed sneakers, whose home she’d visit that was off the road, overrun by bramble on the way. “I haven’t seen you since we graduated.”

“Right, like that was what, three years ago?” Lloyd mused on that as he tried to shift upwards, and then couldn’t with Colette still half on him. “Um.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She giggled as she hurriedly got to her feet, trying very hard to not slip and fall again. She inwardly winced at her laugh, that nervous tic that she could never get rid of, even now. “Guess I’m still a klutz.”

“Don’t worry about it… It’s good, because I’m still catching you!” He laughed too, and the sound brought back even more memories out on the grass, with the sky stretching overhead that, for a brief moment, she was lost in it.

Lloyd looked older, now that she got a better look at him when she wasn’t at a tilt anymore. There was only the hint of a stubble at his chin, but his hair had grown out more, even as it made the same waves that she remembered back from childhood. He wore similar clothes from high school still, with his plaid jackets, his frayed jeans, and his work boots. It was so familiar, that she wondered if maybe they had never separated at all.

“…Colette, you alright?” Lloyd asked her, in a tone that felt comforting all at once. “You didn’t really hit your head, did you…?”

“Ah, no no, don’t worry! I’m still just… surprised to see you!” Her hands clasped each other as she looked up at him, noticing the few inches he had gained in height now. “Does this mean you go to Luin Academy too?”

“Oh, well… about that…” Lloyd’s gaze shifted to the side, and she thought she caught something pass in his expression – that is, until a flying piece of paper smacked him right in the face. “Ack!”

“Oh no, I forgot!”

After a hectic dash of Lloyd and Colette trying to grasp the sheets that had escaped her textbooks, some of them flying far back outside to the second observatory, eventually they’d gotten them all. Or, Colette hoped they did. But at the end, she was shivering and felt a little winded from chasing about various articles that her professor had given her all over the grounds.

“It’s seriously cold out. You don’t have a jacket with you?” Lloyd had latched shut the metal door, leaving them both in the observatory that was basically one mid-sized room with a giant telescope in the middle. Colette noted the metal staircase on the side, leading to the curved ceiling and any other mechanisms that she missed. There was even more of an assortment of plants here, some set nearer the ceiling while others were at the table she sat at. There was the soft hum of a laptop next to her, which she carefully placed her books near. Lloyd was already brewing up coffee, the scent quickly filling the air.

“I didn’t think I’d need it.” Colette shivered in her blouse. Though long-sleeved, the material was still light. She gratefully took the warm mug he handed to her, heating up her palms. “It gets even colder out here than back at home.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Lloyd took a seat next to her easily. “I can give you one of mine if you want.”

“I’m sure I still have the last one you gave me!” She laughed, making sure to swallow her sip of coffee before doing so. Not too hot, not too bitter. In fact, it had a sweetness to it – of vanilla creamer – and she was surprised he still remembered.

“That old thing?” Lloyd asked with such curiosity in his eyes that it made her smile even more. “It’s fine if you wanted to throw it away! Does it even still fit?”

“Yup! It fits me like a blanket still!” And it was true, that old spare jacket that Lloyd had once given her as a joke gift, but she had treasured it all the same. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wear it often when they went to school together, getting stares from other students, but neither caring at all.

She clutched the now half-full mug, looking at Lloyd with a bit of awe. He was holding his, its surface a bit more scratched, but fitting him oddly well. “You know, I thought you went to that other college?” he asked, scrunching his forehead as he tried to remember the name. “The…Spirit…something?”

“The Spiritua University,” Colette corrected kindly. “But, I was having trouble adjusting, so I transferred to Luin instead. Sorry, I think I forgot to tell you that in my last email.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Lloyd rushed a hand through his hair, grinning. “I kinda…forgot the password to that email anyway… Genis was supposed to make me another one but he’s been busy over at Palmacosta.”

“I haven’t talked to him much either.” It had been so many months without seeing her old friends – yet here was Lloyd before her, as if walking straight out of her memories.

Maybe she had been staring for too long – a nervous chuckle from Lloyd, the exact same tone that she remembered from years back. “It’s probably weird to just find me here, huh?”

Colette shook her head. “I don’t think that’s weird. I think it’s lucky that we’re able to find each other again.”

Lloyd visibly relaxed his shoulders. “Heh, you know, I think so too.”

She took her time studying him even more, from his more grown-out (but still messy) hair, to the way he sat on the plastic chair. The lights inside of the observatory were dim, just bright enough for reading, but not too much light pollution to make using the telescope difficult. It felt relaxing being in here, with him.

She remembered his words from earlier, then gently asked, “How come you are here though?”

It only took a moment longer before Lloyd explained himself. “Well… I did actually try to get into Luin. Did the application and everything. I think I wrote the longest essay of my life too. But… my grades really held me back anyway, I guess.”

Lloyd had still been undecided when she left for school back then. He would travel instead, he told her, or he’d take over Dirk’s specialty workshop. She’d never asked him if he’d wanted something else entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“You dork, you’re still apologizing for nothing after all this time?”

“I can’t help it!”

Another laugh, feeling as warm as the dim lights around them. “I don’t think I’m a good fit for it anyway.” Lloyd shrugged, but she saw the grin still on his face, boots tapping the floor in barely concealed excitement. “But you know? One of the teachers read my essay and contacted me! He…kinda kept talking about all the spelling mistakes and junk, until he told me about a side job I could do here. I wouldn’t have to be in classes but he said he’d teach me anyway.”

Even Colette was stunned at this random act of kindness from a stranger. “Really?

“Yeah! And, it definitely seemed a little weird that he just offered, but then I thought, why not? So that’s why I’m here!”

Curious on the story, and having her suspicions, she asked. “Who was the teacher that spoke to you?”

“Oh, it was…” Lloyd scrunched his forehead, but then his eyes lit up, remembering. “Kratos Aurion, I think. Maybe you know him? He really liked what I wrote.”

“He’s my astrophysics professor! I’m actually doing an assignment for his class.” Colette was slowly figuring out what he must have written. She gauged it from where they sat at, from the past nights they’d both lay on the grass of his backyard, matching patterns in the black as much as they could go. “You did always like the stars, didn’t you?”

The same smile she would sometimes think about before she slept beamed at her just then. “So do you. That’s why you’re here, right?”

She nodded, feeling more excited than before – or maybe it was just the caffeine in her system taking over. “And now you work at the Luin observatory. That’s great, Lloyd!”

“Yeah! But uh… I didn’t realize that you basically needed to know math to be an actual astronomer… So I just clean up things here and make sure stuff is working alright. It’s good enough!”

Colette giggled, looking around at the small room, neatly tidied up, just how much coffee he drank in here. “You even got some of your plants here too!”

“Hehe, well at least the ones that at least don’t need much sunlight. So no flowers or anything..”

So natural had they fallen into the rhythm of talking aimlessly like they used to, that Colette nearly forgot why she was here. It took the beeping of her phone alarm – to warn her of the small time window that she had – to jog her memory, as well as Lloyd’s.

“Oh shoot, sorry! You came here to use this thing, didn’t you?” Lloyd quickly got to his feet, downing the cup of coffee in one go, surprising Colette that he could do so while it was still fairly hot. “I may not be smart, but I’ve been learning how to operate these machines. It’s not too hard once you get the hang of it.”

“Ah, well, maybe then…” Colette went to grasp the papers, at the numbers she had written out hastily over the gridlines. “Professor Aurion gave me some coordinates to look up, can you use these?”

She suspected Lloyd wasn’t as bad at math as he claimed. Because when it came to something he really liked, he always did try his best. He looked at where she pointed, then gave her a thumbs up. “You got it.”

Luin’s observatory was a first for her, but she had used such things before. She gathered her notebook in her lap, looking over at the telescope that was bigger than most. It swiveled gently as she moved it to the right, checked over the viewing piece. It was well-maintained, which she had expected.

“Ready?” Lloyd called from the side, hands hovering near a panel.

“Ready!” she called back. Her hands turned the dial of the telescope, and then adjusted the contraption just a bit on its tripod so that it hit the exact angle for her. It was a tall piece of equipment, so she had to perch on a metal seat just underneath to view it properly.

Once the lights dimmed even lower, the ceiling of the dome shifted. She could see it rotate to the coordinates she had told Lloyd of. Another small shake, and then the middle shutter of the dome slowly panned open, revealing the now clear night sky, the blanket of stars up above.

Sometimes it was a gamble when the skies would be good for observing, especially during the cold seasons – but the cold season was also the best time to stargaze too. That was one thing that she remembered from back then.

And looking at the stars had always calmed her.

“Can you see through it okay?”

“Um, just a bit…” She tried to get more comfortable in her seat, but the metal of it was prodding her leg, and soon she knew she had edged out too far to nearly stumble off.

By then, she already felt hands on her shoulders, Lloyd quickly climbing up to join her in the observing seat. “Do you need me to be your seatbelt?”

Colette hoped her happiness didn’t show off too obviously, but his hands felt even stronger too now. “Hehe, maybe for a little while if you don’t mind it.”

She leaned back to the telescope and near the eyepiece, hands gently placed on the handles while she felt Lloyd nearby, keeping her steady.

The night was clear, and the coordinates Lloyd had set the observatory had been right. She didn’t have to get used to any haziness, or peer through a cloudy sky. The stars were so numerous, painted against greyscale, or an old film reel. But she found the cluster she had been looking for, and already set to write down her findings.

“Lloyd, you should see this too!”

“You sure? I’ve looked through it plenty of times this week.”

Colette shook her head, bringing Lloyd’s hands from her shoulders to the telescope. “I think you’ll like it.” She winked at him. “Besides, have you seen it from this spot?”

“Ya got me there.” And like an excited kid, which she had already suspected had never left him, he looked through it too, hands handling the telescope with care and precision. Colette craned her head to look past the instrument to the sky above. While specific nebulae and clusters were hidden from her, the stars to the naked eye were still spread out, like a trail through the dark.

“That’s awesome! That’s the Hercule something, right?”

“The Hercules cluster, yeah!”

It was and yet wasn’t like stargazing out in the fields, with just the crickets and the gentle breeze for ambience. A metal room instead of outdoors, (though the plants helped) and the sky partially blocked from the roof, but she still saw the same light in Lloyd’s eyes – always whenever he would look up at the starry skies.

“So, what did Kratos wanted you to do for this?”

She tilted her head. “You know, it was kind of strange but… he just said I should count the stars here.”

Lloyd turned to her in disbelief. “Huh? Wait… all of these stars? There’s too many! And just plain impossible!”

“He said that too! That an average human lifespan isn’t enough to count every single one…not to mention new ones appear while others fade away.” She tapped her pen against the paper, feeling a smile curve her lips. “But he said we should try anyway.”

“Man… this guy’s weird.”

“Hehe. But he’s very kind. Don’t you think?” Colette took Lloyd’s hand, held it like it was second-nature. “I told him about Iselia. I wonder if he figured out that we knew each other.”

“Huh.” Lloyd gripped her hand back, still half perched on the side of the observing seat, not at all mindful to the height. “He could’ve just asked one of us.”

Colette, feeling more confident then she had in years, scooted a bit from her seat and gestured for Lloyd to come near. “There’s room for both of us here! Maybe if we counted together, we could get it all.”

Lloyd barely hesitated, sitting next to her in only a somewhat tight fit. But she didn’t mind the feel of his jeans pressed against her leg, the scent of him comforting in its familiarity. “I bet I could count more! Though, can we even share the telescope between us?”

“Hmm…we can take turns!” And even as they did at first, giggling as both tried to take their stay at the eyepiece for longer, they eventually leaned back to watch the stars through the open shutter, clear from light pollution and misty clouds.

She had always liked the stars too, she thought, with Lloyd leaning against her shoulder, eyes bright as the night continued, way past the closing hours for the observatory. But now, she knew the exact reason why.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #colloydweek2021 #fanfiction #one shot

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lewdladylily · 4 years ago

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You've mentioned this kink club you frequent a few times, what's the place like generally? Like what kinda stuff do they have going on in a place like that?

There are about 4 within reasonable driving distance of where I live (salt lake city, Utah) but I have only gone to two of them due to time and distance constraints. Though you do get kink nights at a couple local dance clubs, I know Area 51 (local dance club) does them here and there, and they are generally kink friendly any time. The local drag queens really like Area 51.

Anyway, the kink clubs are community run and non commercial. The two I am familiar with are actually built in a residential area - from the outside it just looks like someone’s house, you would never know unless you knew. Someone owns the place and it is technically their home, but I don’t know who. They don’t like to let people know who they are and we all respect their privacy. My understanding is not even the neighbors know. As a side note, the cops all know where these clubs are, it isn’t a problem.

My personal favorite was founded around 60 years ago by the gay leather community but it’s always been open to the larger kink community, we all want somewhere to meet and do our thing so we support each other. Also there is a lot of cross over between different groups.

The one I go to most often has a large living room area that has been converted into a dance floor, which acts as the main play area, area for meetings and classes, and occasionally as an actual dance floor when events call for it. There is a sound system, dance club style lighting, padded benches along the walls, and lots of bondage furniture (also scattered around the rest of the clubhouse). There are several other rooms, 3 additional smaller play rooms, a rest area, a kitchen area (Free water bottles all the time, snacks most nights, as well as a soda machine).

Outside of the main clubhouse they built a small bar, maybe 15 feet by 30. You can smoke there, some nights they serve drinks, tables, stools, etc. You get it. It is a good hangout place, cozy and comfortable feel. I’ve spent a lot of hours there just chatting with people.

They have a consensual non consent area set up in the back half of the bar. The idea is that there is a hazard line on the floor that indicates a “danger” area, as well as a stop light they got somewhere. If it is green, all normal rules apply. If it is red then past the line cnc rules are in place - if you are past the line then it is an invitation for someone to come and do what they want with you without asking permission first (unless you safe word, safe words are always in effect). Generally people are not confident enough to do anything though, unless they already know you. I’ve never had the nerve to try it myself on either side. There is this one lady that is a really good belly dancer that likes to go hang out and dance in the CNC area. I’ve never been around for anyone doing more than groping her, but I understand sometimes people will tie her up, maybe use a vibrator on her.

There are also two chairs with built in restraints set up in the CNC area if that is your thing.

There is also a pretty good size patio area. Generally we just sit and chat on warm evenings out there. It is technically open for scenes, and that does happen sometimes. I once saw a girl and her dominant doing a water torture scene, basically she was tied up arms behind her back, on her knees in front of a plastic tub filled with water. Her dominant shoved her head under the water, holding her in place while she tried to resist and break free. Pulled up and allowed to breathe before she was unexpectedly pushed back under. Very hot to watch.

For the more general things we get up to there, generally things are set up as events that you can attend. The entry fee was $15 last time I checked, just to cover minimal expenses. You can also donate to improve the clubhouse. It gets a good amount of donations, everyone wants a good place to hang out, but no one is getting any real amount of money out of it. All the donations go into things like buying furniture or cleaning supplies. All events are invitation only, basically any member of the clubhouse can sponsor someone for their first event, after that they have a standing invitation to any open event.

The events themselves vary greatly. The most popular events are the general play parties, where people just show up, hang out, meet people, and sometimes do some play. It is not uncommon at all for people to come without any intention of sexual play at all, it is a very comfortable, queer friendly environment. We’re all weirdos here, no one is going to judge you for whatever you do.

Generally speaking at any given time someone will be doing something though. All scenes and play being done in the clubhouse is open for anyone to watch. So if some hot girl is being tied up, or two attractive people are having sex, or if there is just a really sexy woman half naked across the room, you are free to watch the show and it is not considered impolite to stare.

At any given party you are going to see a wide variety of people. Lots of people in street clothes hanging out, chatting, and watching whatever is going on. You’ll see several people in anything they find sexy such as lingerie, corsets, formal wear, or even just straight up naked. I have seen two submissive friends come handcuffed together and only in panties. One of my friends likes to wear maid outfits with cat ears and a tail. All that good stuff. You’ll see people on leashes or other obvious signs of dominant/submissive dynamics too.

The events are 18+, and I’ve seen people in their 70s there. Most people are 25+. You’ll also find a wide variety of body types, including fat or otherwise not traditionally attractive people, trans people, you name it. That isn’t a real barrier to joining in on the fun or finding partners.

For an example of a more exclusive event, there is a gender queer play group that used to meet regularly, I am not sure if they still do. Open for trans people and cross dressers plus established allies. Strictly invitation only because this can be an extremely frightening thing for people.

I was a regular of the gender queer group, it was an easy place for me to start as a trans women. I felt more comfortable there than at a general play party until I got my bearings in the community, and I was friends with all the cross dressers by that point. Generally the idea was we would get together to hang out and chat, give all the cross dressers a night to dress up, some of the more experienced CDs would put on a workshop for how to do makeup. That sort of thing. These were more casual parties without much heavy play. You wont find people fucking in the basement, but you might see a light spanking scene.

They also do a weekly class on some kink subject. Someone in the community puts together a presentation on something they like in kink - for example, pony play, or dollification, or leather working - and you can come learn about it. I went to a leather class once where the presenter showed off these black leather angel wings she made, they were stunning.

These classes are strictly no play, with the exception of any demonstrations the presenter does, and the donation drive, in which a female volunteer brings around a donation box (it is actually a wooden duck, a lighthearted tradition that I don’t know the origin of) while stripped down to her panties in order to “encourage” donations. It’s a tongue in cheek tradition, we are all perverts so we might as well have some perverted fun and let an exhibitionist whore herself around a bit. No one is expected to donate, but it is encouraged.

The thing that might not get across easily is that this is a very comfortable atmosphere and basically one of the safest places you could go. Everything is built around safety and consent, and everyone is looking out for everyone else. I’ve done intense bdsm scenes before that left me so fucked up that I couldn’t even walk on my own. People helped me to the couch so I could rest, got me a blanket, and then got me a sealed water bottle so I could rehydrate and checked in on me regularly until I was able to properly take care of myself. I felt completely safe the entire time. I’ve watched over people like this myself before. It is just what you do.

If I had to pick a personal favorite thing, it would have to be the cages.

The clubhouse has a large standup cage, usually one occupant, but you can fairly comfortably fit two. Often someone gets locked in there and basically put on display. One time a cute girl was locked in the standing cage, her arms bound to the top of the cage, with it sitting in the middle of the room. People were encouraged to reach in and grope and touch her as they passed. I’ve locked people in there before, including heavy bondage to the bars of the cage while I groped and teased them with a vibrator. That was a ton of fun.

There is also a horizontal, long cage big enough for one person, or if you are willing to get very close and personal two people. It is comfortable enough for long periods of time. You often see a submissive or two locked in that cage, sometimes left there while their dominant goes off and plays with someone else. I met one of my good friends while she was locked in that cage. It has a padded top so it doubles as a bench for an added level of humiliation.

#IRL play #Anonymous

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goldandbluesmiles · 4 years ago

Text

Another Lovely Family

Summary: The Batfam get interesting visitors from another reality.

Ao3 This is part of my batfam Flufftober 2020

Note: I have no idea what this is. It just kinda spiraled out of control. But I hope you guys still like it.

Sorry for Barbara fans, she's kinda not here. I couldn't really find a way to put her in here.

Also, the Chinese folk creatures mentioned were the fox spirit aka the nine-tailed fox. They are depicted as being both a good omen or bad omen depending on the literature. The second one was a Huan Cat. Its pelt was said to contain medicine for certain illnesses and some believed they scared away bad luck.

Their patrol had been peaceful that night, and the whole family ended it in the cave, laughing and joking as they stripped out of their suits and weapons. Bruce was watching over them with his ever stoic gaze but Tim could spot the small smile on his face.

So, that was exactly when everything went to shit.

There was a sudden rumble that shook the cave, making everyone reach for the nearest support. A blinding flash and then a portal-like circle appeared at the top of the cave. Through it fell...Tim didn't know how to really describe the really spikey creature.

And then another larger creature fell through.

They were both scaly and covered in patches of clothing. They seemed to have some humanoid feature but they seemed to be a little twisted. There were horns in their heads, wings at their backs and Tim could tell that the little one's irises were silted, like a reptile's eyes.

Tim pulled out his staff, beside him Jason clicked off the safety of his gun, everyone around the cave also took up their weapons.

The bigger one didn't seem to be moving but the smaller, about four feet tall, started to flap its wings and dart around, making a whining and screeching sound but stayed close to the bigger body.

Dick tried to get closer but the little thing lashed out and cut his cheek. Jason instantly straightened his gun but Cassandra moved in front of them.

"Stop!" she ordered

Everyone stopped, even the little creature, though it kept up its whining and chattering, slowly flapping its wings.

"Cass what is it?" asked Bruce

"Damian," she said

It surprised them, but Tim noticed that the little creature stilled at the name.

Cass turned toward the small thing, holding her and up and moving slowly. The little thing slowly backed away but seemed to be calm.

"Damian," said Cass again

The small thing tilted its head to the side, as if curious.

"Your name," said Cass, "Damian,"

After a moment, the creature nodded and chattered softly.

"You understand me?" asked Cassandra

It nodded again.

"Cassandra," said Damian, "What are you-"

"Look," she said softly, "Look close,"

Tim followed her instructions and closely looked at the face of the little thing. At a closer peek, their features were more clear, the green eyes, high cheekbones, and dark hair- It was eerily similar to their Damian's.

"You know," said Stephanie, "I can kinda see it,"

Cassandra nodded and turned back to the other Damian.

"We have Damian too," said Cassandra, "We call you D, Okay?"

The other Damian waited a few moments and then nodded.

"Good," said Cass, and she pointed at the bigger body, "Family?"

D nodded again, this time chattering in what Tim thought might be distress.

"We help," said Cass, "Okay. Turn them over to see,"

D nodded one again.

Dick and Steph stepped forward to help her flip the person gently. Unlike D, the features of this one were more clearer.

"Talia," whispered Bruce

Tim had to agree. Long hair, the same lips, same structure under swirls of silver that matched her son. The horns were bigger and straighter than D's and her hands had claw-like nails but the resemblance to their world's Talia was there.

"Mother?" Cass asked D

D nodded vigorously and chattered, pointing at Talia's side.

"Hurt?" asked Cass

D once again pointed at the same place.

"Can we check?" asked Cass

Once she got affirmative, Cass gently moved the cloth there. Their skin was bare at the back and stomach area but there seemed to be some scale-like things covering the sides. The scales were twisted in one area, almost pushed into the skin, and covered in silvery goo.

"Blood?" asked Cass

D nodded.

"We need to figure out a way to help and I don't think we can do it alone," said Bruce, watching as Cass talked some more with D, "I certainly don't want to try in case we make it worse,"

"So?" asked Jason, "We could reach out to some allies but who would know about something like this?"

'Well," said Bruce, "I don't like the man, but Constantine has travelled to other realities, we could get a few trusted biologists in here to take look. We could call Zatanna and Manhunter to see if they can establish a line of communication with the child,"

"The child?" asked Damian

"Yes, Damian," said Bruce, "From his behaviour and the comparison to the fully grown mother, it is obvious that he is a child. Though I'm not sure about the 'he' part. They don't seem to be human,"

"Anyway," continued Bruce, "Make those calls. I'm going to go explain this to Alfred,"

xxx

"So what is this?" asked Dick

Constantine glance from the Talia on the table to little D sitting with Cassandra at the end of the bed.

"I've never seen anything like this before, mate," said Constantine, "But there are worlds out there where some of us normals humans are metas. I mean there was one where you were born under the sea. There are some realities where humans evolved differently. I dunno mate, I've never seen anything like it and since the little one isn't talking, can't know for sure,"

"And from the looks of it, the scales have gone into her skin, a stark contrast to the other scales that are standing and parallel to her body. I'm sure they need to be pulled out but I don't know how to do that since I can't know how her anatomy works or even which organ is which. Not to mention I don't know how to verify if she's coding or not. Right now, the only indication that she's alive is that her stomach seems to be moving up and down and there is air coming out of her nose indicating breathing,"

"We could put her in a magical coma," said Zatanna, "It would slow everything down, including any wound she has. It's is our best bet,"

D was listening to them and let out a soft chatter.

Cassandra turned to him, "Okay,"

He looked at Zatanna for a long moment and then nodded.

"Okay," said Zatanna, "Here goes,"

xxx

Once the spell was done, D came to sit by his mother and curled up on her good side. He stayed like that for the next several hours, ignoring any of Cass's attempts to interact with him.

Watching him made something in Jason's heart, reminded him of the many times he had curled up against his own mom, until the day he had woken up to the feel of her cold dead body.

Ignoring that train of thought, he focused on another issue from his alley days.

"He's been here almost twelve hours, right?" he asked Bruce, "He should have been given something to eat by now,"

"When we checked Talia, we noticed that her teeth resembled a carnivore's," said Bruce, "I asked Alfred to get some meat options, cooked and raw. But he's also making a vegetarian meal, just in case,"

"Good," said Jason, still watching the little one, "He's so small,"

"I know," said Bruce, "And we have no idea how to get them home,"

"Have you been able to get the Martians here yet?" asked Jason

"No. They're still not available and Zatanna couldn't do anything,"

"And that also only works if Damian knows how to get back. The only reason our Damian is this resourceful is that he was trained by the league. Who knows how this little guy was trained to what tech they have on their side,"

"I know it's a lot of variables," said Bruce, "But we have to take it one step at a time. First food,"

"Right," said Jason, going back to gazing at D.

Bruce stopped looking at the reports he was going through and turned toward Jason.

"Jay, are you alright?"

Jason startled.

"Yeah. Yeah. Just...you know. Reminded me of...yeah,"

Bruce glanced at D and nodded in understanding.

"Why don't you bring him the food down in a little bit?"

"Me?" asked Jason, pointing at himself, "Is that a good idea?"

"Why not?" said Bruce, standing up and gathering his papers, "You're good with kids and you're good with food,"

"But..."

"Come on, Jay," said Bruce, "It'll give Cass a break and you can explain to the little one about the different options,"

"If you're sure," said Jason

"Of course I am, Jay," said Bruce, "I'm gonna go check on our Damian,"

"Okay,"

xxx

Half an hour later, Jason came downstairs holding a tray. Cass looked at him and smiled, vacating her seat beside Talia's bed. She kissed his cheek before making her way up the stairs.

Jason sat down and put the tray on a nearby table.

"Hey, D," said Jason softly.

Damian stayed turned away from him but Jason saw his wing twitch.

"So, it's a little afternoon now, which mean that you should probably eat something,"

Another twitch.

"Now, I don't know how much you need to eat or what you even like but we guessed a bit and I have some things here that you can choose from,"

Damian didn't have any response this time.

"You know your mother doesn't need food right now, because of the magical coma. But she needs you. They say people in comas, especially magical comas, can still feel and hear the people around them. How are you supposed to be here for her if you don't eat, huh? Maybe just a little?"

There were a few moments of silence, but then Damian turned around. His eyes seemed tired and hurt and made Jason's heartache.

"We have a few options. Vege's, cooked beef, pork and chicken. Same thing but raw too. Which one would you like,"

D pointed to the cooked meats, specifically at the beef. Jason handed him the plate and he started eating it as finger food, leaving the utensils behind on the tray. It reminded Jason of how some League members would eat.

There were a few minutes of silence and suddenly Jason had no idea why Bruce had sent him down, Dick was much better at these things.

Then he spotted a book sitting on his desk.

A little Princess.

"Hey," said Jason, "You know my dad would read to me whenever I was sick or injured and sometimes just because. Do you mind if I read something to you and your mother,"

D looked up and tilted his head sideways, a gesture they had come realize meant he was curious.

"Just a second," he said, getting up to get the book.

Jason came back and sat down, opening the book to its first page.

"Alright, Kiddo," said Jason, "Let's tell you the story of Sara Crewe,"

xxx

When Dick made his way down to the cave, it was with a tray of tea for Jason, a tradition that Alfred had brought to the family. D was still curled up against his mother and Jason seemed to be reading him Little Women. A copy of A Little Princess was sitting close by.

"Hey," whispered Dick as he came down, sitting the tray on a table, "How's it going,"

Damian chattered softly and Jason smiled, "D and I have been discussing characters,"

Dick smiled, "That's great guys. I brought you tea, Jay,"

"Thanks," said Jason, "I'll drink and read,"

Dick nodded and turned toward D.

"Hey, so I love listening to Jason too. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

D looked at him for a moment but the scooted a little, making his intention obvious. Carefully Dick sat himself down on the bed. the beds were big enough but Dick was still careful as to not touch Talia.

D seemed to have no such reservations and leaned against Dick's side. Jason raised his eyebrows at the action but kept reading. Eventually, soft snores started to emit from the little one and Dick looked over to see his eyes closed.

"I think he's asleep," whispered Dick

Jason nodded and closed the book, putting it away.

"Poor guy," murmured Dick, "In a world so different from his own,"

"Yeah," said Jason, "Seems to like you though,"

Dick smiled, "He didn't seem to hate you either, Jay,"

"Yeah," murmured Jason, "Do you think he has his own versions of us too. I mean the way he looks, his dad is probably their version of Bruce Wayne, right? Think the man adopted a slue of kids over there too,"

"I dunno," said Dick, "Maybe,"

Just the, D let out a small snort and twitched his wings.

"He's kinda adorable isn't he?" said Jason

"Yeah," said Dick, gently smoothing down D's hair, "I just hope we can get him home. And help his mom,"

"How's Dames taking it?" asked Jason

"He's alright but I know something's bugging him," said Dick, "But he seems more concerned about something regarding this little one than about any threat to him or to the family so that's some progress I guess,"

"Definitely progress," said Jason and then frowned, "What's the concern though?"

"No idea," said Dick, "Maybe he's just showing the inherent kid mentality, ya know, worrying about other small people,"

Jason snorted, "Yeah. Maybe,"

xxx

Half the bats ended up staying back from the patrol that day. Neither Jason nor Cass wanted to leave their guest and Tim stayed with them. D had been given dinner and seemed content to lay with his mom. Seeing this, Cass and Jason had taken to the sparring mats and Tim had started his work on the latest security update of the cave.

Tim was deep into it when he felt someone approach him. He turned to find D curiosity looking at the screen.

"Hey, Kiddo," said Tim, "Need something?"

D chattered and pointed at the screen, head tilted to the side.

"You want to know what I'm doing?" asked Tim

D chattered and nodded.

"Well," said Tim, "I'm trying to make our home safer for us. See these, here? This is the pattern for silent arms but Jason broke through them the other day just to prove a point to Bruce so now we're updating them. It usually ends up being my job but I don't mind. I like helping to keep my family safe,"

D started chattering excitedly, pointing at the screen, then at Tim and then at his wings. It took his doing it a few times for Tim to understand what he was trying to say.

"Are you saying that you have a Timothy too? And that he makes your home safe?"

D nodded with a huge smile on his face, excitedly flapping his wings.

"So you do have your own versions of us. Dick and Jason were wondering if your dad had adopted more kids too,"

D got quiet at that and Tim had no problem recognizing the sad and faraway look in his eyes.

"You must really miss them," he said softly

D chattered softly and nodded with his eyes down.

"I wish we could find a way to get you back. But there is nothing to read from the energy that brought you here and we can't really know anything until you tell us where exactly you're from. And we need the Martians for that. They'll be here tomorrow,"

D started chattering really fast after that, his wings flapping to the point where he was lifting off the ground.

"Hey. Hey," said Tim, "What's wrong? I'm sorry if I upset-"

D's chattering just got louder.

"I'm sorry," whispered Tim, "I'm sorry but I can't understand you,"

D let out a huff and landed back down, stomping his way back to the little corner they had set up for him and Talia. They had tried to get him upstairs but he had refused to leave his mother's side so Alfred and Jason had set up a temporary residence in a corner, separated by curtains.

"What happened?" asked Jason, running up to him, Cass right behind him.

"I dunno," murmured Tim, "We talked about his siblings and then I was saying how we were waiting on the Martians and he just got worked up and started to say something. I couldn't understand him,"

They looked over to D, who was still visible due to the curtains not being closed. He was sitting on the floor, gently rocking back and forth, almost in a trance.

"I'm gonna-" started Jason

Cassandra stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"No," she said, "Leave him,"

Trusting her judgement, Jason nodded and turned back toward Tim.

"I'm sure it was nothing. He's probably just getting a little frustrated you know. His mom's asleep, he's in another reality and no one here can understand him,"

"Yeah, I guess," said Tim, "I just wish there was more we could do,"

"Me too," murmured Cass, "Me too,"

xxx

It was the second day of their guests being in the cave that the Martians landed outside of it.

J'onn and M'gann came early in the morning and were introduced to D. Stephanie thought she saw recognition in his eyes.

"Hello, little one," said J'onn, kneeling in front of D, "I would like permission to from a mind link with you. I will not try to look into your memories, but I would like to understand what you are thinking and then translate your thoughts to our hosts here. Do you understand?"

D nodded and smiled up at J'onn, gently patting him on the cheek.

"Alright then," said J'onn, "Let's get started,"

J'onn locked eyes with D and they started to glow. Both him and D went oddly still, an odd sight that Stephanie had gotten used to when it came to the Marians' mind link.

Only a few moments into the link, D started to squirm, moving his hands and twitching his wings.

J'onn visibly stopped and looked down at D, "Is there something wrong, little one?"

D balled his hands into fists and shook his head, obviously trying to get them to stop. It didn't seem to help and the switching of his wings only got worse.

Beside her, Duke leaned in, "Does that look like what I think it looks like?"

"Maybe," murmured Stephanie, analyzing D's movements and thinking back to what Tim and Cass had said about his mannerism, "I think so,"

"Should I-"

Stephanie nodded, "Doesn't hurt to try,"

Bruce was just about to step up when Duke stood up.

"I have an idea," said Duke, "I'll be right with you,"

Duke jogged over to the cabinets and pulled out a couple of things and brought them over. He and Stephanie then explained them to D.

"See this," said Stephanie, holding op a plush penguin, "His name is Mr. Flappy. We sometimes hold him when we want to do something stressful. Would you like to hold him?"

D touched the soft toy and then nodded. Stephanie gave him the toy and he squeezed it, cooing in delight when it squeaked.

Duke smiled, "This is a weighted blanket. You can wrap this around yourself while J'onn makes a link,"

"And D," said Stephanie, "You don't have to be still, okay?"

D looked down at his feet but nodded. Stephanie took it as a win.

"Good," said Duke, "We're just gonna go over there,"

Both him and Stephanie turned back to go to their original spot and as they did, Stephanie spotted a proud smile on Bruce's face.

'Good job' mouthed Bruce.

Stephnie grinned and beside her, Duke did a thumbs up.

This time when J'onn tried to establish the mind link, D seemed noticeably calmer, rocking back and forth while wrapped in the blanket and holding the toy close.

"So, child," said J'onn, "Show me what happened,"

D closed his eyes and J'onn started to narrate.

"You were being chased and your mother tried to get both of you away. but she was- she was hurt, is that it? Yes, she was hurt so she miscalculated. I see. Do you know how we could get you home without waking your mother up?"

"Ah," said J'onn and opened his eyes.

"What?" asked Bruce

"Well," said J'onn, "It seems that D here believes that his family will find him. That's what he trying to tell young Timothy yesterday,"

"There's a difference between his family being to able to track him and him believing that they'll come for him," said Bruce

D let out an unholy screech at that, obviously offended.

"I think you pissed him off, B,"

Bruce turned to D, "I'm sorry, Kiddo. But we need to know,"

"May I?" M'gann asked D.

He scrutinized her for a minute but then nodded his consent.

M'gann started a mind link and began to ask her own questions.

"How are they going to find you?"

A few moments and then-

"Ah, I see," said M'gann, "According to D here, there are five people in the family that can travel through realities, including his mother. The others are his father, his brothers Jason and Richard and his sister Cassandra. They will most likely split into four groups. His Father and Aunt Kate. Jason and his outlaws. Richard, Selina and Timothy. Cassandra, Stephanie and his last brother, Duke. Alfred will be taking care of his baby sister Helena,"

"How do they track you, D?" asked Tim

"Hmm," said M'gann, "According to him, they have a link and can signal each other but D's is weak since he's young and his mon has to be conscious to send one. His family will look into other realities around and then make their way here. Apparently, they already have a system in place for if something like this happens,"

And then she snorted, "Something about his father being a bit paranoid,"

There were a few chuckles around the room while Bruce glowered at all of them.

"Anyway," said M'gann, "All that can be done here is that you take care of him and keep him safe,"

"Who was chasing you?" asked Jason

D frowned and looked around the cave, his gaze landed on the wall of blades and he pointed to ap articular one.

"That's my league blade," said Damian, and Stephanie noticed him stiffen, almost involuntarily.

Something was up with the kid.

"Were you being chased by Ra's?" asked Bruce

Damian nodded.

"I'm assuming he can't travel thought realities," said Bruce, "And no one in his loyal circle can either,"

D pointed to M'gann and she once again began the mind link.

"Hmm," she said, "No, Ra's can't travel. Interesting. It seems that the species in their reality are a bit different than most. Only D's kind and magic users can travel through realities and even then a very small percentage of those groups. Ra's and his followers are not included in this category. And even if he could find someone to do his bidding, it would be near impossible for them to find him since there is no link,"

"So only his family can track him," said Tim, "That's why Talia got them out of there. She was hurt and took the risk,"

"Brave of her," murmured Selina

D also chattered sadly.

Dick smiled and kneeled in from of him, "I'm sure your family will come soon, Kiddo,"

"Who do you think will get here first?" asked Tim

D tilted his head and then pointed at Jason.

"Jason, huh," said Duke, "Makes sense if you ask me,"

D giggled and leaned into Dick, a bit of the day's tension draining out of him.

"I have to leave now," said J'onn, "But M'gann will stay in case you need another mind link. Is that alright, D?"

D smiled and nodded, waving a small, clawed hand at M'gann.

J'onn smiled, "Lovely then,"

xxx

After lunch, Damian was sitting in his room and reading when someone knocked on his door.

"Come inside," he called out

It was Richard at the door.

"Hey Dames," he said, "Whatcha doing?"

Damian scooted over to make room for the man on his bed.

"Just a book," said Damian

"Hmm," said Richard, "You know, I've noticed that you haven't sent any time with our guest,"

"I'm not required to," he said shortly

"No," said Richard, "Of course not. But I'm just wondering if you're alright?"

"I'm fine," said Damian

"Dames-"

"I'm fine, Richard. I am not missing my mother. I am not worried about threats. I am not feeling sad. Or anything else your mind is coming up with right now. I am fine,"

"Okay," said Dick, giving his head a gently kiss, "Let me know if that changes, okay?"

"Fine," said Damian

Dick gave him another smiled and then left. Damian sighed and slumped down, not knowing how to explain to anyone what his actual worry was about.

Maybe he should spend more time with the other Damian. He could certainly alleviate some of his concerns this way.

Making up his mind, he grabbed some of his art supplies and made his way down to the cave. There, he found M'gann and Cassandra sitting and conversing with each other while D played with the plush toy Stephanie and Duke had given him.

Once the girls saw him, they both left while begging Alfred's cookies.

Damian sat down with D who looked at him curiously.

"I like drawing and painting," said Damian, "Do you mind if I draw you. I've never met someone with your features before. I think it would be interesting,"

D titled his head and then pointed at some of his paper followed by his fluid acrylics.

"You want to paint?" asked Damian

D nodded and looked at him with pleading eyes. Damian couldn't help the smile that came over his face.

"Alright, you paint. I'll draw you,"

He opened the paints for D and then went to grab a brush but noticed that the other boy had started painting with his claws.

"Well," Damian murmured, "That's one way to do it,"

Damian took his time sketching D, making sure he got all the details right. By the time he was done, a few hours had passed and it was almost time for dinner.

When he was finished, D showed him his painting and Damian had to say, he was impressed. And that was no easy feat.

While Damian had been drawing him in detail, D had used that paints to sketch out a few rough paintings. It wouldn't have worked usually but the material of D's claws had probably made it easier.

The first one was of Damian, showing him with his head down and bowed over a book. Next were three faces, One of D's mother, the other one obviously his father and a third that looked like Jason. He also had another painting of six figures flying in the distance. Another one that looked like a dragon from folklore.

"These are beautiful," said Damian, "Do you all live together? Your mother and father and your siblings?"

D nodded and Damian sighed in relief. A part of him had been afraid that Talia was taking D away from his family and that his father and siblings would cause a fight, hurting D the way Damian himself sometimes hurt.

Except, it didn't seem to be the case.

"That's wonderful," said Damian, "Do you want to see mine?"

D nodded and took the sketch, instantly squealing happily. His wings started flapping and he did a swoop around the cave, chattering happily as he clutched the drawing.

"You really like it, huh?"

D smiled and nodded.

"Well, you can keep it," said Damian, "As long as you let me draw another one that I can keep too,"

D nodded enthusiastically, smiling down at the sketch.

"Would you like to see more of mine?" asked Damian

D let out another whoop.

Damian grinned, "I'll take that as a yes,"

xxx

Bruce climbed down the stairs with Dick to get both Damian and D for dinner. They were hoping to coax their guest out of the cave to eat.

Once they got there, Bruce was surprised to find that both boys were sitting down and excitedly chattering. It didn't matter that Damian couldn't understand D, they still seemed to be able to communicate effectively, flipping through Damian's sketches that were kept down in the cave.

"Oh, hello Father. Richard," said Damian, as they came into view

D smiled and saved shyly.

"Boys," said Bruce, "We were just here for dinner,"

Damian turned to D, "Would you like to come upstairs this time?"

D shook his head and cast a glance at his mother, his eyes going dull and sad again.

Bruce frowned until an idea came to him.

"Dick," he said, "Tell Alfred we have a change of plans,"

And that was how they all ended up having dinner in the cave, picnic style.

After dinner D showed them sketches of his family. Everybody smiled and complimented as M'gann translated for D.

"Yes, apparently Jason is the scariest one of them but very sweet. Richard can do other most tricks in the air and Tim likes to fly at night. Cassandra is the fastest though. And Stephanie has the most unique wings because they are purple. And Duke lets him draw on his wings with glitter. Helena can't do much yet, she's just a baby,"

"So," said Jason, "Would you say that your dad is scarier than Jason or less?"

"Ah yes, " said Dick, "Ask the important questions why don't you?"

Jason shoved him before turning back to D, "So?"

M'gann laughed as she listened to whatever D was saying.

"According to D, his father is the pretty one of the family. A real charmer,"

Bruce smiled, "Well, that's not so bad then,"

"Pretty boy, Bruce," teased Stephanie

"Do you have an Alfred too?" asked Tim

D nodded and then picked up the picture of the dragon-like creature and held it up for everyone to see.

"He has silver features and this his 'other' form,"

"His other form is a dragon?" asked Jason

M'gann got a surprised look on her face, "Everyone in his reality has another form, which shows through their features. His family is what we call dragon, they pronounce it draagn. There are only a few of those around. Most of the populations are made of magic users and animal-shifters. Some other forms are sea creatures,"

"Wait!" said Duke suddenly, "I have an idea,"

He pulled out his phone and started to look for something. When he found it he held it out for everyone to see. Bruce scanned it and see that it was list of mythological creatures.

"Are any of these the 'other forms'?"

D nodded, pointing at a Nyad, a phoenix, a griffin, a pegasus, a jinn and even a chimera and some Chinese folk animals like the nine-tailed fox and the one-eyed cat with three tails.

"Wow," said Tim, "Could it be that our realities brushed each other and a lot of out folk animals are really just people and creatures from other realities,"

"Maybe," said Dick, "Some might have even gotten stuck here, hence the myths and stories,"

Everyone got quiet for a moment, trying to comprehend what this, if true, meant for their realities' history.

Eventually, Bruce decided to break the silence.

"I think it's time for bed for some people, especially if we're taking a break from patrol," said Bruce, sending a meaningful look to his two youngest sons. They had promised to him sleep earlier this week.

He also noticed that D slumped down a bit and felt bad.

"You can come up too," Bruce told him

D shook his head and chattered softly, casting his gaze toward his mother.

"I can just sleep down here," said Damian

Bruce wondered if his kids would ever stop surprising him.

"Yeah!" said Dick, "Why don't we all just stay down here tonight?"

"Well," said Alfred, "These old bones are not made for this cave. However, you all can stay here if you prepare proper bedding,"

"I'll take care of it, Alfie," said Bruce

"Alright then," said Alfred, "I'll be heading up,"

Bruce waved to him and then turned toward his children.

"Alright, Jason and Tim bedding, Stephanie, M'gann and Cass pillows, Duke and Dick blankest ad everyone's plushes, Damian and D, you can set things up as they bring them downstairs,"

His kids nodded and scattered to get everything done.

Once everyone was sitting down, still quite awake, Bruce decided on a long proved tactic.

"Anyone want me to read anything?" asked Bruce

"I'm fine with whatever," said Jason

A few more murmured os assent followed. D raised on os his hands and chattered softly.

"D's wondering if you would finish the book Jason was reading to him yesterday,"

"Little Women," said Jason, "It's still on the table and put the bookmark in,"

Bruce smiled, "Little Women it is,"

xxx

Bruce was barely starting to stir awake when the cave rumbled in a familiar way and there was a flash of light.

He sat upright just in time for five figures to appear in the cave. D had also spotted them and was flapping his wings and flying among them. The figure at the head finally took his in their arms, gently hugging him close.

It seemed like D had been right after all. The figure could be no other than Jason Todd. And he was terrifying.

Twisted horns, double claws, slit eyes and big stature, all came to together to make a nightmarish figure. The way he was talking to his little brother negated the effect though.

Behind him stood what seemed to be his team. Kori and Bizzaro looked the same as they did in their universe while Artemis seemed to have a greyish tint to her skin and Roy had spirals of what seemed like fire all around his arms and legs.

"Huh," said Dick, "D was right,"

"Seems so," murmured Tim

Their guests finally seemed to be done with their greetings and the other Jason turned toward Talia's body and frowned. Tim instantly stepped up to explain.

"We had to-"

"A magical come," said Jason, voice a bit jarring and shocking

Tim instantly stopped and stared at him wide-eyed.

Jason turned back and frowned again.

"What?"

"Well- uh- I wasn't um-expecting to- well"

That was when Bruce decided to step in, "Sorry. What my son is trying to say is that we weren't expecting you to speak since D didn't. That's what we've been calling him,"

"And you're kinda terrifying," Tim rushed out

The other Jason let out a laugh, "Why, thank you. Also, we do talk, D is just nonverbal,"

Ah, that certainly explain ed some of the behaviour that they had just put to being anxious and different from them.

There was another rumble and bodies started to flash into the cave, the whole other family appearing altogether.

"Damian," called out one of them, separating themselves from the hoard.

It was the other Bruce Wayne

"Holy shit," muttered his Jason

Holy shit indeed.

Pretty did not begin to describe the other's appearance. He was wearing a tank top with pants that seemed to be painted, leaving little to the imagination. Slim with toned muscles, shimmery wings, sparkly blue slit irises and shimmery black swirls reaching for his cheekbones, the man was a thing to behold. His hair was waist length and had been braided loosely. His scales shone in the light of the cave and his claws seemed to be made of dense glittery obsidian and his horns were gold and black.

Once D was done with this father, he flew over to the rest of his family and the other Bruce turned toward them.

"Hi," he said softly

Bruce stepped up and held out his hand, "Lovely to meet you,"

Other Bruce gave him a bright smiled and shook his hand.

If Bruce was a lesser man, he would have been at the start of an inferiority complex at the moment.

Instead, he gestured at Talia.

"We have her in a magical coma," he told him

"I can see that," said other Bruce, "We'll take her back with us and take care of her once we get home,"

"So you're together?" asked Damian, "D, that's what we call other me, said you all lived together. Is that true?"

It struck Bruce then, the reason for Damian's odd behaviour. He thought D would be separated from his mother the way he had been separated from his. By the way some of his other children were shifting, they had realized it too.

The other Bruce merely smiled though, "Ah, yes. We are married. Just celebrated our fifteenth anniversary,"

"And who's Helena?" asked Tim, "We didn't recognize that name,"

"Oh she's mine and Selina's," he said, vaguely gesturing behind him, "Sel wanted a baby so I helped her out. We agreed that she would be raised as part of the family though she keeps her mother's name,"

"Ah," said Tim

A child half him and half Selina. While part of him was curious, another didn't want to know the outcome of that.

D came up to his father and said something softly.

"Anyway," said other Bruce, "Thank you for taking care of my family but we should be going now,"

"Of course," said Bruce

The other one went to get Talia and the rest of the family came up to thank them. Dick practically hugged all fo them, Tim was solemn and Cassandra kissed all their cheeks. Stephanie and Duke went around giving them fist bumps and high fives while Selina and Kate merely said a few words each.

"You have an Alfed too, right?" said Selina, "D wanted us to meet him too,"

And because Alfred was magic, he chose that moment to step out of the elevator.

The other family surrounded him, profusely thanking him or also taking care of their family members. Alfred, to his great credit, took it all in stride and responded accordingly.

Right before they were about to leave, D leaned up into Jason's ear and whispered something quietly.

Both Bruce and Jason turned back and knelt. Jason took out a block of what seemed like glass and blew into it until it was shipped into their bat symbol. Bruce made a gesture with his hands and there was a liquid sloshing in the glass replica.

They handed it to D and the little one ran over to hand it to them.

"He says it's a present," said M'gann, "The people in their reality bend metal. Some more than one. Some metals are bent by more than one kind but Mercury is bent by the draagn exclusively,"

"But isn't mercury poisonous to us?" said Tim

"Not that one," said Bruce, "You can take some out from the stopper at the bottom and test it but I believe you are fine to keep it, Think of it as a token of our thanks. Mercury is special to us or as we normally call it, Quicksilver,"

"Alright," said Bruce, "Thank you,"

The other family disappeared in a flash of light and all they were left with was an odd decor piece and a couple of sketches.

The glass bat symbol ended up sitting right in front of the huge penny.

xxx

In the evening right before patrol, Bruce found Damian standing in front of the bat and watching the liquid quicksilver slosh around as if it had a mind its own. Some kind of magic, surely.

"Father," murmured Damian

"Damian," answered Bruce

"They were a lovely family," said the young boy

"They were,"

A moment and then-

"We have a lovely family too," said Damian, "Even if I wish some things were different,"

"We do have a lovely family," said Bruce, kneeling down in front of his son, "But you are also allowed to wonder how things could have been different,"

"I miss her sometimes," said Damian, "I know she wasn't really fit to raise a child, not after everything grandfather put her through and certainly not without getting help first but she is my mother and I miss her sometimes,"

"I know," whispered Bruce, "Come here,"

Bruce tugged Damian close, enveloping him in his arms.

"I love you, baby,"

"I love you too, Father,"

#flufftober2020 #bruce wayne #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Alfred Pennyworth #duke thomas #batman #batman fic #fanfics #dc fanfic #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #cass wayne

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