#growing attached to the king of hell is crazy

[viveela]

He's got a certain someone on the mind...

[slowd1ving]

Hello, I could request a Jaegyeon Na x Male!reader who is androgynous and brother of James lee please

NO STRINGS ATTACHED ・゜゜JAEGYEON NA

"I got so much to lose, so please don't ruin my mood." Unfortunately, taking your brother's motorcycle for a spin does mean you now have idiots and prospective debt collectors looking to make the man pay for whatever havoc he's wreaked, including pretty boy Jaegyeon Na, who perhaps is not the smartest when it comes to tailing someone. yo this is actually the first request I got on here so thanks nonnie :3 I hope whoever requested it actually likes this scenario (I only remember bits and pieces of the scenes he's in so it might be a bit OOC) also sorry anon if you wanted it in drabble/headcanon form honestly idk how I wrote it this quickly but same day delivery is crazy... it must've been the urge to wife this guy pairing: jaegyeon na x male reader warnings: some violence? male reader, lowkey crack since I can't take this man seriously, he's got a nice face though, do misunderstandings need a warning wc: 2.3k

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

On all accounts, it should be a good day. Wind tousles your clothes as you speed the forgotten roads on your younger brother’s motorbike, while the sun’s never beat down brighter. To some, the arid weather cloys and sticks uncomfortably to their skin—but for you, this day is nothing more than bountiful beach weather. Even the last lollipop you stole from the stash in his kitchen seems more saccharine than usual; evidently, your mood isn’t the only thing that’s sweet on this wondrous day. 

Or at least, it should be a good day—but it’s not, because some idiot’s been following you through Incheon in the ugliest car you’ve ever seen. It’s hideous: so much so that you’re troubled more by its primary-colour chromaticity than the fact that it’s been cruising past you as you wind your way through the quiet of Nambuk-dong. Seriously, which child lost their toy car because of this nitwit?

The cherry flavour grows distinctly more acerbic in your mouth as you make several turns experimentally—and yep, he’s still following you. 

Question is, why?

Well, Jaegyeon Na’s seething behind the wheel as though the answer is horribly obvious. It’s only been a week since Mr. James Lee himself wrecked his new ride, a week since he was forced to take a taxi back to Incheon, and a week since he sobbed his pitiful heart out in his garage. 

Mr. James Lee did not, in fact, pay for wrecking his car. 

And Mr. James Lee probably never would, not unless the King of Incheon wanted to lose his hands to that monster. Perhaps his tongue, as well, for daring to ask for what he was owed in that freak’s presence. 

No, he festers with barely-bridled fury. He’s not a wimp—which is precisely why he’s tailing after the sleek bike. It’s not often his informants actually have useful scraps to report to him. It’s also not often (read: never) that the freak’s licence plate is spotted in his home turf. 

Naturally, Jaegyeon does the obvious: following the mysterious rider as he weaves through the streets like he actually knows this place. It strikes him as strange that James Lee knows where he’s going, but it seems the blond dye has seeped into his brain. Just a little, because common sense doesn’t seem so common for him anymore. For a moment, it seems like he’s making his way to the Incheon Airport, but then the route diverges onto the highway and he’s even more puzzled.

Where the hell is this bastard going?

What seems to be hours later (because he has been tailing you for about three hours) the motorcycle finally comes to a screeching halt. 

Where? 

At Wangsan Beach, because of course Mr. James fucking Lee came to sightsee after causing him immeasurable grief. In his own turf, too. He scrambles out of his car, fuming, as the man parks neatly on an isolated road just a minute or so away from the sand. 

“You’re pretty angry for someone stalking me.” The voice resounding from the helmet sounds muffled and disembodied, which is perhaps why it doesn’t carry the same mocking cadence James Lee’s does. Or perhaps, it’s not James fucking Lee behind the helmet. 

“Stalking you?” he sputters. His face is all twisted with rage, which is quite a shame since he’s so pretty. Like some foul-mouthed, wretched fairy, anyway. “You wrecked my car!”

“I did?” The confusion in the voice is so salient that Jaegyeon almost believes it. Almost, because everyone and anyone knows what a slippery, lying turd James Lee is. 

“Yes, you fucking did,” he hisses. He nearly stamps his foot, but he settles for petulantly jabbing at your chest instead. Once more, there’s a slight discrepancy—this time in your build, for he could’ve sworn James Lee was the same height as him. But the helmet looks down upon him, and he’s blind with rage at how condescending James Lee is. 

Maybe it’s your visor that’s clouding your own vision. You wipe the plastic with your sleeve obnoxiously—then peer at the car stalling only a couple of metres away. It looks… fine. Fine, if not egregiously, offensively repulsive. 

“I would’ve remembered such an ugly fucking car if I’d wrecked it,” you grimace. I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten-foot pole. “I think I would’ve been awarded a medal of honour for it too. Real brave to approach that.” 

“You conniving, duplicitous bastard,” he grits his teeth, and he swears he can hear a molar crack in his pretty mouth. That’s it. “It wasn’t this car, but another one!”

And I didn’t touch it! But whoever did, did the world a service, you want to say—but the cretin looks catatonic with rage. Any further, and you think his poor face might spontaneously explode. 

“You are a scammer,” you conclude, but perhaps that, too, was the wrong thing to say. 

“How shameless can you get, you jackass?” he yells, practically trembling with his fury. Like those little blond dogs you see yapping, you fear he might lunge at you any minute now. “You know you trashed it! You laughed about it while you did so!"

“You’ve got the wrong guy!” you yell back. 

 “I’ll kill you today, James Lee.” 

Woah—your eyes widen at both his words and how his body spins into motion. He’s fast; practically phasing out of sight like a spectre as his hands reach for the lapels of your leathers to grapple them. But unfortunately for him, he did announce his vengeance before he committed to the deed. 

Thus, he, too, built his villainous end—cliché by cliché. 

Well, it’s not really the end. That little warning gave you ample time to twist out of the way—using his momentum to spin his own body and pin him to the ground with freakish strength. 

It also gave your eye ample time to twitch as the words hit home. Of course this was that snot-nosed brat’s fault—you almost felt bad for the blond beneath your heavy boot. 

But then you look at the car again. It’s still hideous. 

And just like that, you fully support that brat’s wrongs. 

“Um.” With that, you step off his designer shirt, awkwardly brushing the footprint left behind. “I’m not James Lee.”

This exchange took such a short time—three seconds, in fact—that these words don’t register until the grappler has already locked himself around your legs and pushes you flat into the dusty street. Your helmet hits the asphalt with a sharp crack, and you wince as you almost bite your tongue instead of the lollipop stick. Actually, it was a wonder you hadn’t already bit your tongue. 

But you digress.

This leaves you in a particularly awkward position. He’s wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, and as your words finally hit, he’s letting go in surprise—while you’re finally shucking off the helmet. 

Sure, the candy in your mouth is the same, but he’s currently sitting between the legs of someone who decidedly is not James Lee. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he blurts out, but his tongue feels especially dry as he stares up at your face. 

“That’s what I’d like to ask of you,” you fume, and though your expression simmers red-hot with irritation, your tone is cold now that it’s not muffled by your helmet. He can feel his cheeks prickle under your glare. “Get off me, you dumbass.”

God, he’s never felt like such a fool—sheepishly, he scrambles off you, while you mutter something that sounds suspiciously like ‘look at this fucking idiot who doesn’t fucking check to see who the fuck he’s tailing this is how movie serial killers find their prey because fucking hell what a witless worm.’

“Uh,” he starts, and can’t bring himself to finish. He’s never felt so intimidated: practically cowering before you as you corner him against the wall you slammed him against earlier. Even with the syrupy scent of cherries from the candy in your mouth, there’s nothing about the man before him that’s friendly. Not even his pretty face—those eyes are only glaring daggers at him. 

Of course, part of the intimidation is due to his anger dissipating instantly at his mistake. And the exhaustion of tailing the wrong person for upwards of three hours. And the embarrassment that, naturally, comes with tailing the wrong person in the first place. 

“Do I look like someone who cleans up after whatever my younger brother gets himself into?” The question practically trembles with rage, punctuated by a harsh crack as you bite into the sweet. He knows better than to ask who the younger brother is; it’s not like his brain is that damaged from the bleach. 

He swallows, then tentatively answers. “No?”

“That’s right,” you take a deep breath, as though you’re calming yourself back down—but he’s entranced by the way your hands massage your temples, soothing the tension headache he’s no doubt brought on. “That’s right.”

You don’t look like your younger brother, and he’s staring at the man in front of him, slightly enraptured. 

“If my younger brother wrecked your ugly ass car, what does that have to do with me?” you seethe, and the illusion is shattered. 

“It is not ugly,” he argues back for the first time, chasing after you as you dust your helmet off and head towards the beach. It’s why you came here in the first place—though, you groan mentally when you see that the sun’s about to dip cautiously past the horizon. Of course, the irritation couldn’t possibly be because of the idiot floundering after you. 

“Don’t care what you think.” You bin the candy stick, much like you bin his opinion. “Your thoughts are rubbish.”

“Sorry, man—” and he’s still trailing you, just like some puppy now that all his bark’s gone. “—I really thought it was him.”

Irritably, you halt on the spot, and his nose collides right into your back. It’s almost comical how quickly you grab his stupid collar—how wide-eyed the arrogant blond gets, how flushed he becomes. 

“I don’t care about your grudge with my brother.” You’re just about nose-to-nose with him, and his brain short-circuits. If it hasn’t already. God knows he doesn’t have the most brain power. “Quit following me, you moronic stalker.”

“Can’t I make it up to you?” he wheedles, trying to prolong your proximity for as long as possible. 

“Yes,” you deadpan. “By learning from your mistakes and not stalking me.”

“Can I at least get your name?” he takes hold on the wrist currently wrangling him for dear life. “Since you’re so close and personal right now.”

“No,” you sneer, letting go in disgust. “Fucking pervert.”

This day was not a good day. 

゜・

When you next see your brother, you hand his keys to him and vow to buy your own bike. James stares hard at you—the harrowed gaze you sport, the mild twitch in your eye, and finally, the noticeable dent in your helmet. 

“What the fuck happened?” he utters finally, staving off any traces of laughter. Alas, judging by the look you shoot him, it seems he is not destined to be an actor. 

Your jaw clenches. 

“Fuck Incheon, man,” you mutter, dragging a scraped hand across your weary face. He does the maths. Incheon. Blond. Narcissistic king. 

“James,” you intone. Seriously, this time, and all his predictions of what you’re about to say next shatter to dust. “Next time you see that stupid pretty-boy bastard, destroy whatever car he’s in.”

His brows raise, not just because he wants to grin, but also from a certain adjective nestled between the pejoratives. 

“Stupid fucking prick with no brain, no shame and no future,” you seethe. Well, maybe he just imagined it, then. 

゜・

Meanwhile, a certain blond leans against the hood of his car, absent-mindedly tracing patterns on the metal while he waits for his call to finally go through. True to his word, he did let you go—driving back morosely to his apartment while you continued down to the beach for the last shreds of the day.

But for some reason, his mind can’t let your face go. It’s out of irritation, he rationalises. That’s why he’s ringing Jichang Kwak for information, because Jaegyeon’s dubbed the King of Chungcheong the most intelligent (after himself, of course). 

Is it because the man wears glasses?

Maybe. 

Regardless of the status of Jichang’s intelligence, he knows his heart’s racing out of anger. His skin’s flushed due to rage. He’s twirling his hair because of the complex coils of revenge.

When he asks the king about James Lee’s brother, there’s a long-suffering silence on the other end of the line that makes him feel slightly foolish. Just very slightly. 

“Do you have a fucking crush or a death wish?”

“Death wish?” he scoffs. “I could take him.”

It’s only then does he remember the former part of the question and his absence of a denial. 

At the same time, Jichang processes the response given and keeps both his silence and his peace. 

“And I don’t have a damn crush,” he adds, but it’s perhaps a heartbeat too late. For the King of Chungcheong, anyway—he doesn’t think the man’s noticed either his earlier double entendre, or how comedic he sounds.

“Uh-huh.” He’s a bit dumbfounded by this turn of events, hanging up almost reflexively. Indubitably, he might’ve replied monotonically, but there’s just something about being in proximity (even just audibly) to that cretin that has him losing his own brain cells. 

For a few more moments, he stares contemplatively at his phone. Then, at last, he prays for the poor soul of James Lee’s brother—for there is something so deeply disturbing about being the recipient of that moron’s affections he can’t help but feel pity. 

゜・

[sideeve]

SKYLINE TO HIS HEART ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles morales x f!reader , cheating in part 2 , miles doing spider duty , love in the first chapter , i don’t know what to make of this

after finally having the guts to confess his feeling to you, miles felt like he was on cloud 9. your smile sent him to heaven every time. his sketchbook was filled with you. and my parents caught on quickly.

mrs. morales shot a picture at every given moment, despite miles’ groaning and whining every time.

he didn’t want to be anywhere you weren’t.

“miles,” you whined “let go. my dad is gonna kill me if i’m not home soon.”

“he’ll have to kill me too then.” he mumbles in your neck, his hushed breath tickling you. you giggle, “he wouldn’t hesitate. “just ask him to stay over. it’s a weekend.”

“he doesn’t trust you enough.” you lose the motivation to escape his grip, making him smile. “jerkface.” you murmured.

soon, your heavy lids closed, lulling you to sleep.

during the night, your phone blew up. messages, missed calls and voicemails from your father. “shit!” you fall out of miles’ grip, face planting on the floor, making you groan.

before you could make it out of his room, his voice stops you.

“baby? ¿a dónde vas? son como las 2 de la mañana.”

“too late for me to be here.” he groans at the realization.

“just tell him it’s my fault.” “that won’t end well for both of us.” you softly laugh, making him smile. “i’ll see you at school, mijo.” you peck his lips, but he wanted more. he didn’t want you to leave, not yet. he stood up as you backed away, deepening the kiss.

your lips were still attached to his as your hand held the doorknob. “miles.” you giggle, pulling away. “come on. i thought it would work.” he pouts. “maybe another day. not just this one.” you peck his cheek this time, leaving his house.

you didn’t hear the last of it from your father. he scolded you as soon as you opened the front door.

finally making it to your room, you changed your clothes into your night ones. before you fell asleep again, you texted miles goodnight.

mrs. morales 💓 : gn miles😘

mr. morales : gn😢i wish u were here rn

mrs. morales : me too bubba

you clicked your phone, quickly falling asleep.

3 months later

miles came running through your house, frantically looking for you. once he hit your room, he shut the door and locked it before exhaling a deep breath. “miles? honey, what’s wrong?” you raise a brow at him. “my whole day has been weird. i’m able to walk on walls, ceilings. i’m extra strong. like spiderman.” you huff, “it’s a little to early to be making jokes about him.” you remind him about his death. “i was there when it happened.”

you press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself to believe him. “okay, i believe you.” “then this…guy…that looked like peter but fatter walked up to me and i shocked him. we had to swing around new york to escape the cops.”

you laugh. “that’s one hell-of-va dream you had.” you twist your chair back to your desk. “you gotta believe me. no one else did.” “what are you talking about?” you thought he was going crazy because of his uncle’s recent death.

“the other spidermen or women webbed me to a chair to go fight king pin. all because i couldn’t disappear on command.” he huffs. “do it.” “huh?” “do it right now.” his face grows upset. “don’t do it too.” you walk to him, taking his hands into yours. “calm your body, think of something that calms you and center yourself.” he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

before you knew it, miles’ body was disappearing in front of you. but you could still feel him. “holy shit. you did it!” miles’ reappears in front of you. “i did?” “well now you didn’t.” you giggle.

1 year later

for a year now, your boyfriend has been the one and only spiderman. and you (and ganke) have been his wingman and the only person that knows his secret identity.

and today was his father’s promotion party, hosted on his rooftop.

but you haven’t seen him since he’s dropped off the cake for his dad.

“mrs. morales, have you seen miles?” “i grounded him for his attitude. he’s been so rude and clos-” in the middle of her rant, your eyes drifted over to miles…and another girl?!

why was he so close to her? why was he nervous? why haven’t you seen him before? and why…did he just kiss her?

a tear rolls down your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by rio. “¿bebé? ¿por qué lloras?” her eyes move to your line of sight, immediately gasping. “honey, i am so-” before she could finish her apology, you left the rooftop, heartbroken.

the urge to burn everything of his was eating you to death. the letters of lies he wrote you. the drawings he gave you. the hoodies. everything.

a knock disrupts your haze. it was miles. “hey, my mom told me to check on you. you left the party early.” your mouth opened to spew the hateful words accumulating your mind but nothing came out except, “we’re over.” “what…?” he leaned back, baffled. “i saw you. with that girl. you kissed her. you were obviously in love with her so be with her.” he blinks in realization. “i didn’t-” “go!” you slammed the door in his face, sliding down it.

hot tears streamed down your face as you hyperventilated.

how could be do this to you? after everything you’ve been through? the things you’ve done for him. you were there when his uncle died.

how could he?

[tiredly101]

Love is coming our way

Pairing: Peter Pan x Felix x OCC Male!Reader

Summary: Felix and Peter are in a casual relationship. Only sex with no strings attached but the second you arrived with your fierce, and deadly, behavior and your beautiful self they felt things that should have happened.

Notes: I'm using promps 22, 30, 31 & 144 form this list: click here.

Warning: none, just Male Reader OCC being revengeful and overall crazy, Peter and Felix being technically simps.

Felix being Peter Pan second in command made people suspicious, those people being the lost boys and each one if them had their theory. Most of those theories involved Felix sucking Peter's cock for his place as his right hand.

Both boys knew the rumors but they didn't care. Thay had a relationship only for stress release and it didn't have any sort of strings attached. No feelings involved which made both, Felix and Peter, very comfortable.

-

Everyone knew a new boy was joining them today even though it was a surprise since even the King of Neverland himself didn't knew of said arrival happening until it happened.

They saw a boy with ash brown locks with defiant grey eyes that seemed to stare at each lost boy soul. To say he was beautiful was an understatement.

The Lost Boys, received the new boy, who's name was John Wayne, with open arms at Neverland.

-

Months had happened since John's arrival so Peter decided to get everyone to join in on a prank on John. They were going to cut his hot water supply and by voting they decided that Darvin (don't know if there is a Darvin, just roll with it) was going to take the role as the mastermind behind said prank. They just didn't expect what they saw.

The lost boys see an in raged John appear by the premises with only some pants on, shirt not even bother to be put, while he walked closer to the campsite.

— Who in... FUCKING HELLS TURNED OFF THE HOT WATER SUPPLY? — screamed a rather angry John making everyone's skin crawl. In pure silence they pointed at Darvin and when John eyes landed on him he smiled in a way that put to shame Peter's evil/mischievous smile.

— You better watch yourself... Darvin — said John with a smile that seemed sweet and yet it could kill someone if it wanted to.

Another Lost Boy tried to calm down John to what he only answered "Get out of my face before I hit you". Peter could feel himself blushing at the scene that was displayed before his eyes and he didn't know why.

Dinner time arrives and John sets down everyone's plate with a kind smile whom everyone has loved from day one but yet when he served Darvin his plates his smile seemed to grow in a sort of wicked way.

Everyone finished their food rather quickly but Darvin was just staring at it. Scared. Scared of John. Everyone heard Darvin stomach growl, begging to be feed.

— If you eat your lunch and you wouldn't be hungry — John said to Darvin with a dangerous glint in their eyes making Darvin start eating out of fear.

-

Three days have happened and everyone is beyond confused on what is going on with Darvin. He is more pale, he is way to skinny even though he eats everyday and John seems oddly happy about his conditions.

— You know, you can scream if you want to... make it be the last breath you take — said John making everyone look at him confused but soon enough Darvin screamed, not because John told him to but because he was in pain, making a pleased laugh escape John lips when he dropped on the ground. Darvin was not moving and that made John laugh harder in pure and simple happiness.

Peter Pan and Felix walk with caution over to Darvin only to see his whole body was covered in black lines made by Nightshade. They both look at John who only showed a little container with the deadly plant that became a sort of liquid that had a different color to it's usual black since it was almost yellow and walked away with a grin.

Peter Pan blushed while he looked at John walking away who was smiling, it was a twisted and evil smile, while Felix used his hood to hide his new found blush.

Peter and Felix look at each other with a knowing smile. They both didn't see love coming their way and yet they loved the danger of falling for someone as ruthless as John. They loved the knowledge that John could kill them all and yet he didn't. They loved John Wayne and they didn't mind sharing.

[scaredshadowsswap]

Alright everyone, every SCP researcher/doctor/agent I can think of off the top of my head and what their favorite flowers are based purely on vibes.

I don’t imagine Clef being particularly fond of receiving flowers. However, he’ll sure as hell give them, and I think he’d have a surprising amount of knowledge on flower language. If he had to pick one, he’d like red poppies.

Kondraki likes sunflowers. I feel like they would have sentimental value, and they’re also super tall so it’s the most worthy of the flowers in comparison to him.

Kondraki Jr respects the love of sunflowers, but likes daisies as long as they’re natural colors.

James Talloran likes pumpkin blossoms. An odd choice, but it’s the flower he pays the most attention to when he sees it.

Gears would probably like something that is easy to take care of, considering he’s busy all the time, but also something traditional. My guess: Moss rose.

Bright: Bright is eccentric, orchids. Hard to maintain, and every time he gets one, it dies shortly after, but they’re fancy while they last.

Glass: Glass would probably say it’s lavender because lavender is pretty soothing to people (More uses than just 049!), and honestly that could be correct. Glass is definitely a play-it-safe person, but to be honest, I think he likes white lilies.

Iceberg: Someone so cold just happens to have the personality of a guy who likes daffodils, but he’d be offended if you gave him some. His masculinity seems a tad fragile.

Strelnikov: White Egret (The flower, not the bird). It’s cool, looks like the bird, and more importantly, native to Russia. I don’t know how he’d react to receiving flowers in general, but if you handed him a flower from eastern Russia, I think he’d be impressed.

King: Orange blossoms. Simple, beautiful, and in contrast to apple blossoms which he despises.

Rights: I don’t know a whole lot about Rights, but stargazer lily feels right, so I’m not gonna question it.

Light: Saguaro, but mostly because it’s attached to a cactus. I think Light would definitely have a cactus on her desk.

Diogenes seems like a tulip person. I hesitate to say that because tulips can seem kind of basic, but tulips also seem like a cornerstone flower that anyone can rely on, which is kinda how I feel about Diogenes. I don’t think they’d like crazy flowers.

Trebuchet: Crocus. Again, based off vibes. Trebuchet is no-nonsense, and I feel like this kind of goes along with this? Also, Crocuses are not tall. I think Trebuchet hates tree blossoms or flowers that grow on bushes.

I feel like Crow would appreciate flowers more than most on this list, tbh. I think he’d like snapdragons. Safe for dogs to be around, and the fact that they grow in bunches makes them easy for him to carry.

Feel free to let me know if I missed anyone, I’ll probably do a separate list for SCPs

[halloweenrazorcandii]

Monster - Dodie. @anonbinaryweirdo Zephyrine scene.

"Well this ends bad then. I knew it would. We knew it would, So we won't eat our words, 'Cause they don't taste good." Zephyrine has always had a feeling, a funny feeling. That her marriage and seemingly monogamous love for the funny, prepped demon father, King of Hell, she thought she would last lifetimes with. Whatever a lifetime in hell is, anyway. As soon as the dreaded Lilith had shown to their door, there's been a sinking boat in her vixen senses she hadn't noticed until she felt she needed to slam herself as far away from her husband as possible. Their son growing fond of the former Queen of Hell, she felt she couldn't drag him away. She'd see them post pictures having fun on Sinstagram, going to hells luxury firey lakes, having fun. Lilith cooking her former husband dinner, happily serving Zephyrine's child, along with Lucifers she'd grown fond of. Like a family. No matter the tears and fears that had grown to the fox breed, no matter how many times she'd tear the fur from her tail or tug on her horns in agony upon just the thought of missing her life, she'd never gotten the audacity to let herself back in. "Look, I know that I've seen this before. High and mighty, at the top of your list, Adoring every move, and now my rank is sinking. But we're both guilty of black or white thinking. And through my red eyes, you look pale. All of your scars, Now look more like scales." 7 Months. 7 months without her family. During these times she'd confided in her loved friend, Angel Dust, a pornographical actor. He'd undergone some unfair treatment at his studio, since he'd "worked" there. Despite her not confirming the spiders own theories of her new behavior, she'd still appreciated his comfort. Though she felt she couldn't even find the feeling to appreciate. When Angel had come to the hotel with a black eye and slumped figure, Zephyrine had enough. She, one night, had strided to his studio, owned by infamous overlord Valentino. She had striken a deal with the overlord for Angel Dust's time of abuse to be replaced by her. She became popular by the viewers fast, Valentino using her body for all sorts of entertainment. She'd started appearing on bigger screens, deemed the audience. She hadn't enjoyed this. Not a bit. "I'm guessing that I've grown horns, I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain. Oh how easily passion twists, You think I'm a crazy bitch. A thousand words are left unsaid, 'Cause no one listens to the dead. So maybe I will talk to you the only way I know how to. I've said my speech, through sharpened teeth." While at work, Valentino commands a new form of entertainment. Muzzling. The device is set on her, her fur sleek, she'd already been worn and used. The notice of the muzzle instantly clicks with the vixen, and she doesn't like it. At all. Her performance being shown on a big screen, just outside Lucifers tower, for all to see. All, to see. The crowd around the screen eminent. Zephyrine begins to growl. Her sharp fox canines peaking from her dirtied lips. Her claws hooking on anything they can find, and after being kicked by Val to "calm down", she goes batshit. From worker to worker anyone in her way, mauled. In desperate attempts to take off the Muzzle, she panics, scurrying around the studio, already breaking the chain attached to it. While the scene displayed on live hell camera, from the Voxtech Horns channel, it just so happened the King of Hell was looking out his window as his worst nightmare shone upon to the entirety of the Pride ring. It was almost as if the violence in the porn was being taunted. Was this planned? Lucifer began to shake. After failed, desperate attempts to subdue the rabid animal let loose in their studio, an employee, a likely familiar one at that, resorts to last option. Click. . . . Boom. The silence rattled all of Hell. Lucifer turnt away, only to find two of his sons, frozen in place, eyes locked to the device.

[thefallennightmare]

Okay but can we talk about this!?!?!🥹

“The one you posted in Japan. I-I thought you found someone there that could get you actual ramen.” 😭🍜

The dumbest but also the absolute CUTEST, most adorable, and sweetest sentence ever. Chapter 20 was truly beautiful in every single way from each raw, heart breaking, honest, and “Ugh FINALLY” moment. I absolutely loved how Noah did not hold back at all during him and Angels heated conversation in the rain. How he refused to let her walk away again without any words or thoughts left unsaid. I know Angel has this Hollow Souls tour coming up and I’m very excited to see how she picks herself back up from all of this and hopefully sees her worth and that waaay down, SHE is worthy.😉 I also went a listened to both the songs that were attached to the chapter 21 teaser and gave the lyrics a read… gonna be honest, I was a tad bit worried. But, I know you both said that Just Pretend is only getting started and it’s all up from here. 🪥

I cannot wait to see how much Angel and Mochi both grow and develop not only in their relationship together but as individuals. Also with Noah catching that glimpse of Angel walking into Dr Poulso’s office that day after his session, I’m curious to see if that plays out anymore into the story. Also, it is absolutely CRAZY to me to realize that Angel and Mochi have only had one fully intimate night and the story has come SO far since then. I absolutely hope Mochi and Angel go ALL out and give it their all for the makeup sex that’s been crawling at them for MONTHS and keeps getting interrupted by fruit basket, sock smearing/orange peel crumb enthusiast himself.🙄😂 I hope Angel gets her absolute insides WRECKED by Mochi and absolutely wrecks the hell outta Mochi entirely. Taking back what was always hers and taking king concrete’s crown as her own. Also excited to see Angel’s reaction to the new Levi hair Mochi. Honestly, I’m just excited for everything in general with this story lol.

I’m sorry this was so long! But, thank you BOTH again and again and again for sharing this absolutely incredible story with us. You two are truly masterminds. Please take all the time you both need with these next chapters! Until then, I will be going back and re-reading chapter 20 over and over awaiting for when you share the next chapter with us!❤️🍊

I think this is by far one of the best comments. We’re absolutely floored with so much love. We cannot express how much you all mean to us. 🖤

Trust us yall, both Noah and Angel are about to get wrecked. 😏 @thescarlettvvitch

[arian-thedreamer]

My brain concocted the craziest half awake fever dream of ramsay in a walking dead AU and he takes over an abandoned boarding school for some fucking reason. He still a schycho but he's chiller and only tortures raiders and anyone who won't join his gay pervert orgy cult.

Joffrey and Aegon are bffl (in love) and are tasked in taking care of the livestock they keep on the property. Aegon grows attached and they raise their heared like adoptive dads. Their both the same pathetic person and argue all the time but get closer because of it.

Joffrey is deathly silent while shaking as aegon weeps after they had to kill their favorite lamb because they needed food (ramsay wanted something tasty).

Ramsay makes sure to smack on the lamp Chop loudly and comment on how good it is during dinner.

Aegon quietly sobs over his plate. Joffrey has a thousand-yards stare.

Dustin is the camps boy wonder and is slutting himself out to Jason (along with everyone else just hell let Jason feel special). Jason is himself and acts like it's a secret when literally everyone knows.

Skjoldr is being passed between the gourds magni and modi. They fight over him even when they're fucking him.

Heimdall is the buildings gourd and patrols within while magni and modi patrol outside. He and atreus are the couple everyone dispises as they need to make their obsession with argumentative forplay everyone's problem. Foreplay that usually leads to violent sex literally everyone can here.

They pretend like everyone's crazy afterwards.

Jace and Luke are the camps power couple. Literally just unreasonable perfect and normal.

Baldur is an asexual king. I don't know how I knew this information I just simply did. He's second in command. He complains all the fucking time and embarked does his god-damn job like Ramsay.

Jace, Jason, atreus, modi, and baldur would scout for supplies and kill zombies with baldur as the leader.

On more than one occasion atreus nearly gets everyone killed.

Distin is un-ironically just a whore with an insatiable craving for old science textbooks they find, and most of all cock.

He's Ramsay's favorite (of the ones he can touch as Jace woukd kill him is he so much as looked at his baby brother).

It was smutty, traumatic, and very funny so it's eating my brain no matter how ridiculous it was.

Remember never fall asleep after you work on headcanons or a fan fiction.

I repeat: do not-

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 21 - One of Us

(This is by far the most involved prompt I have done for Mystery March, and so I hope it turned out alright. There will be some more detailed author’s notes at the end of the writing, as there’s no possible way I can fit them all here before it. Just let me express how much of an inspiration you all have been! ENJOY!)

I said, even if I told ya

It all started with an idea, as most every work of art does. Concepts were put in place, branching off from that one base idea. From there, others came together to help get this little project off the ground. Characters were fleshed out, just as the world they lived in where. The team worked hard on everything planned, a true passion project.

When the first video dropped, we were all invested. We fell in love with the characters, story, and music. We couldn’t wait to see more, and despite all the time having to wait, it has always been worth it. Great works take time, and even with a team as dedicated as this one is, they fueled our own passions with previews, updates, character and worldbuilding, merch, and as of the most recent video, a branch into another medium to further tell their story. Their group continued to grow, bringing on more talented individuals, including voice actors.

Fours videos under the belt and one more still to come, they pour their heart and soul into this series, though they are not the only ones who do so. There’s a theory in our world known as the ‘multiverse.’ It is said that all these universes living side by side with one another create everything that exists. Can the same not be said for this team and all the fascinating works of art that came out of this one little series of four videos?

They've been looking for you and only you

It’s a tale of three friends and their dog, all stemming from a terrifying incident inside a cave. One lost their life, one lost their memory, and one lost their arm. What of the last member of their group? He lost his identity. Karma for his trickery would come back to haunt him. Guilt came to consume another, and the last to make it out alive was left wondering what was even going on.

Revenge fueled the one that came back, determined to get back at the one ‘friend’ that managed to cut his life short, and reunite with the love of his life. What started with a chase through a mansion led to the appearance of a tree woman searching for the trickster. The ghost refueled hijacks a truck, gunning down for the familiar van he once drove for all of them.

The woman catches up, shattering the glass wall protecting those in the front seat. The ghost blows the back tire that causes the van to crash. Two encounters branch from this point, one shrouded in the past, and another in the pursuit of revenge. Blonde and blue-haired humans nearly falling at the hands of their captors.

But they survive.

The dog’s true form revealed, the battle commences, blood spilling. As one disintegrates, an opening is left over for a familiar evil to take hold. White became black, demonic nature taking over the once noble being. The three friends left being the ones to bring him free of this grip. What are they to do? It’s all left to be seen...

Darkness is my signal

Not too much is known about this blonde, though despite the change to his physical appearance, there are parts of what defined him that have not changed. He’s had to adjust his lifestyle, but seems to have made the most of his new life. He may have even found some comfort in a bit of an unusual source. Anything to keep him from the self-isolation he seemed content to bring upon himself because of his condition.

So what are you to me, what are we to you?

The cave incident plays out like normal, there is one major change in the timeline of events. The blonde is sent tossed over the cliff along with his best friend, the entity that caused all their problems still trapped inside his body. When the ghost reformed, his anger was washed away at the sight of his friend suffering the same fate, or so he believed. Once free, it was nothing but a rough struggle to hold onto sanity, not just for one of them, but both.

One to keep calm, helping his friend to try and stay lucid.

The other fighting the terrifying entity inside him for control, while changing his body to fit the demon’s needs.

The blonde won, but at what a cost? Green skin covering his body, feet and hands sporting yellow-tinted claws. The posture of his own feet changed, causing him to have to learn how to walk all over again. A tail with a tuft of orange hair, and two large wings attached to his back. Last of course, were the horns on his head, and the blacked out eyes with amber pupils. He was in despair over the turn of events.

At least he had his best friend to help him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without him. Well, this, and the series of events that came to follow. The two were eventually united with their final friend, but their not-dog wasn’t convinced of the blonde’s mind. It didn’t matter that he didn’t act like a demon, as he still looked like one, accepting the pain brought on him.

Drastic measures were taken to ensure freedom of the ghost, no matter how unnecessary it was. Adjustment takes time, and a good talk was what the four of them needed.

But are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

What seemed like a simple task, well maybe not simple, but one that was plausible spiraled into a long drive across the country in search of a cure for the ghost’s condition. All it took was one ingredient: werewolf blood. Seven weeks after the start of their trip, two were starting to lose hope, the last of their trio determined as always. A blur running across the front of their van was enough to bring their hopes back up, chasing down what looked like a big wolf.

To just miss it. It seemed like another dead end for their search.

Until the blonde was all alone.

The wolf jumped out of the shadows, teeth sinking down into flesh. Were it not for the arrival of the kitsune, who knows what would have happened. The injured one was brought back to his friends, patched up, and taken in for proper treatment. A headache marks the night of the full moon, a night when werewolves are said to be forced to transform. What will happen for them? Most left to the whim of try blue ghosts deemed as blueberries. We shall see where their questions and actions take this new werewolf and his friends.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

Tales of legends are passed down, but come from a place of truth. Those that speak of a king gifted a sword with a beautiful, glowing, purple gem just before the silver of the blade. This is a gift from the Lady of the Lake, and one not to be taken lightly. It comes as a surprise when the weapon turns out to be sentient, and the two not always getting along.

Sometimes the king can be a little harsh on his partner.

And sometimes the sword can refuse to work in situations where his help would be greatly appreciated.

They must learn to work with one another if they hope to overcome the obstacles placed in front of them. The question is can this be done, or will they continue to bicker with one another?

I know that this sounds crazy

An unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time causes the members of the separate mystery solving groups to be body swapped with one another. A kid stuck with adult hunters that deal with magic, as well as otherworldly dangers, and an adult stuck with a bunch of kids that seem like they may be in way over their heads. The ultimate goal is for the two groups to come together, and find a way to swap the souls in each body back to their original home.

Easier said than done.

One gets to learn the truth of a horrifying incident, something that tore friends apart, and damaged the people of their group beyond some repair. A kind heart is offered to them despite all this, helping to try and ease the burden even if he has nothing to do with them.

The other sees first hand what kind of trouble a group of kids can get themselves in. His own problems arise, and in typical fashion, does not wish to push them onto anyone he’s been stuck with. It’s a little harder to convince some of this new group of the world he has seen, and learned from; but, if there’s one thing he can do, it’s to still help those around him, and lend a hand when a mystery comes along their way.

Two outsider perspectives looking in, and it’s a matter of what adventures they will have before and after they come together again.

Waiting for this moment, can you see me?

A whirlwind of emotions, pushed only further at the hands of abuse, a blonde is left to flee from his own home to try and preserve himself. He fled through the states, ending up at another corner of the US. His mind might have been broken, but that didn’t stop one person from becoming the most important in his life, nor the three that came to follow from their union. The haunts of old were constantly clinging to him, no matter how careful he was so that none could find him, and even when those fears returned, he never let them get in the way of his family. There was an understanding between them.

But all that fear came crashing back when one single letter was hand passed to him by his former friend’s father.

Even terrified out of his wits, he found the courage to pack up some of his family to return to his old home. The past came back in full force, as well as the reveal of a curse that only seemed to have the power to vanquish. The people that treated him the worst came back to him for help. The same blue-haired girl who’s father delivered the father nearly brought the end of three children with her partner in crime. The wraith that made his life a living hell came back trying to act as if there was something he could do to make up for what he had done.

And the demon that caused all this to happen in the first place was now roaming free...

'Cause I know that you're out there

Almost as if the reset button had been hit, the blonde wakes up thrown into the past, a time when his best friend was still alive, but… it wasn’t the same. The blonde was still the same one from the future, and new friends that his past friends would know nothing about showed themselves. How was he meant to be like his old self when anytime he looked at the purple wearing man, all he saw was the vengeful ghost out for his life?

Events aren’t meant to play out the same way, and they don’t. Despite this, some things can not be changed. The demon still found his way to the same host, though what he chose to do was different. Even with all the chaos, at least the one man didn’t lose his life.

And he gets a front row seat to what his blonde friend had to go through in the future he once came from. It hurt. Emotions still rang high, even if the circumstances are not the same.

This darkness is my signal, come and find me

Sometimes the past can be changed and have one new timeline play out, but what if that same man from the future was now thrown into multiple iterations of the same events, each one spent trying to make it a perfect outcome for all four of them? Well… after a few rounds it didn’t matter if he got to be part of their ending. All that mattered was fixing things for the other three. That was his assigned duty.

Death ended each try, waking the man back up in his bed, whether that be at the hands of someone else, or himself. He just needed more time, plan, and make sure he got it right. He could do it, he was determined to do so.

No matter how much it was tearing him apart.

And when enough was finally enough, it was up to the three left to try and convince him that even with pain, they could continue on with their lives. He didn’t have to keep fighting anymore. He could take an ending that hurt, but one they could heal from, rather than spending so many years trying and trying, all to end with a repeat.

As having to remember all of that hurt.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

What started out as just another night of sleepwalking led the blonde to the steps of a very familiar mansion. Fleeing from an unseen threat caused him to swallow his fear, taking the first step inside. There was no greeting this time, save for the slamming of doors behind him. The only light provided was a light purple of three candles, lifted by the only hand he had. A journey up a flight of stairs and down the hall, coming to a plaque with his name on it.

Entrance strangely granted to him with the twist of a knob from a hand that wasn't there.

The night spent in a bed, waking up to find he had become a prisoner. It seemed death was what would come to him, whether it be at the hands of his former best friend, or by his own. After all, there was a reason his room was on the second floor. Revelations come to light with the appearance of a certain green arm… wearing a familiar, black wristband.

Friendships ruined, for another reason than before. Another friend found searching for him. Both started for selfish means, but it was selflessness that sent him back into the house, even though an evil from the past threatened them once more.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

It’s not everyday that some dive into the past of these character’s lives, but what would happen if one young, scared blonde came across an ancient tree? One that was alive in more ways than one. A strange feeling washed between the two of them, a bond made from the day the blond fled into her woods to hide from the one hunting him. He came to her more than once, and yet every time he did, she sought to rest his soul.

And soon, the tables had turned. Now she was the one in need of rest, though she did not realize it yet until she got the same comfort she once gave to the blonde. His pack adopted her, and he took care of her rot. Names of a powerful thing to these beings, and they knew each other by that power word.

This was not the end of their story. The three friends and dog were reunited, of course the blonde being the one to decide to choose the home where his wooden friend resided. There’s no denying that he was still healing, but he found the courage to try and seek it for himself. The bluenette grew curious about the tree in their backyard, and the final finds an outside source to try and round his curious status.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

The once ghost only turned out to be half deceased, but the hatred still remained. Whether he liked it or not, the blond was at fault; but, he had a plan. One that was sure to fix everything. Find the true cause of their misery, proof that he was just as much a victim.

It was a plan that split their group apart. The dog chose to go with the man on his search, while the bluenette stayed with their half dead friend. The hunt is on, but who’s to tell how the story is to go on from here. Will they each succeed with their goals? We shall see.

Are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

The ghost finds himself in the company of others like him. Not ghosts, but skeletons from various worlds. The logistics of how this came to pass is a mystery, though he does not seem to find these details too important. Separated from his ‘friends,’ he finds new ones in this strange group of individuals. They seem to naturally bounce off one another, though some still have trouble catching the ghost’s triggers to his anger. Thankfully, most situations involving this aren’t left to fester.

Their local hang out at Manny’s place is full of stories, interactions between these liked characters. Some funny, some more serious. Whatever the case may be, even if he’s not in the same place as most other ghosts like him, he’s found a place where he can fit in.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

A prince and a noble of green came together, an unholy union that was meant to lead to a prosperous life. Perhaps, but only for one half of that pair. Concerns were dismissed, comfort was sought by an evil man from the one he supposedly loved, and the other tried to find what little comfort there was in his constricting hold. It took the support of two outside his kingdom, and two strangers that wormed into his life to stand up to the terror in his life.

And yet… even with their help… and his desire to lend his help in return…

It wasn’t enough.

A life ended, but the king came back. He was not about to give up on the kingdom he always poured his heart and soul into. Years he seemed to be alone, though one by one, four beings came into his company. He still had those that aided him in life, but now he had more to add to his family. A pink rabbit, golem, a purple imp, and a dark girl with a skull marking. Each had their own story, and a place with him.

And he would see to their safety as much as anyone else in his kingdom.

Tell me, are you one of us?

Said, are you one of us?

Some characters are unique to the world, not all always branching off the main four. Of course, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some made with connections to them in mind. Each is special, and built with as much care as anyone else…

Whether it be a cousin to the blonde, gray with orange highlights rather than the way around, a darker aesthetic, but still similar style to his cousin. A tattoo pattern along his left arm.

A green haired ghost, one met when the group of friends were out together. Something seemed about ready to suck her inside, the ghost reaching out to save her. She seemed to stick with them since.

A young woman dressed in red, blue, and brown. Golden pearls hang from her neck, and a black shawl wrapped around one shoulder. A brown cat accompanying her and group at times, and one that seems to have a power of her own hidden just underneath. 

Are you one of us?

Some characters branching off the core four, and even some of those that were created as their own entity for this series chose to build their stories and characters with one another. Their worlds cross over to one another, relationships naturally build, and so too do the special elements and plots to separate them from one another. Each one of them is equally unique.

Whether it be from the multitude of different colored ghosts, each of them centered around their own story and emotions.

A blue-haired girl with one strand that is lighter than the other. A snowflake twinkled in her left eye, and a roller derby team she has been dedicated to for years counting on her.

The same mechanic, though with more visible scars to the incident in the cave. So much love and care to give, even to those in other worlds, even if the gray faes take a little too much pleasure in bringing him grief.

A black robed king, living far beyond the grave, glowing locks of hair flowing through the air. He’s been seen before, but this one on another plane, a chance to interact with others outside his grown family.

Are you one of us?

Are you one of us?

This amazing group of people, as well as many others come together over a series we all love and cherish. We create our own works of art, but not without credit to the original source. From this point and on, we only seem to grow as a collective, continuing to create as we wait, and surely even after the series comes to a close, it will hold a special place in our hearts. So long as we are all here, we shall continue to spread our joy over mystery skulls animated, supporting one another, no matter how small or big someone may be.

We extend our open arms to one another, and to those new to this fandom...

“Said, are you one of us?”

-----

(Author’s Notes: Seriously, this fandom has been an amazing inspiration, and I’m so happy to be able to take part in Mystery March. There was no other good prompt to really do this for, and I thought this would be a clever way to give tribute to the many amazing people and ideas/stories they have come up with. I tried to keep things short and vague for some, as there are some things I don’t want to give away, so you can check them out if you haven’t. I know there’s no possible way I could get everyone, but I tried to get as many as I’ve fallen in love with and not repeat anyone twice (even though I think I broke that rule twice). Again, thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoyed this.

Credits: (In order of appearance)

@mysterybensmysteryblog, @heilos, @artsyfeathersartsyblog, and the rest of the amazing team!

@lottafandoms (Vampire Arthur)

@ectoimp (Demon!Arthur) / @providentially-demonic (The Devil and the Dead Fic)

@askmysteryskullswerewolfarthur (Werewolf Arthur)

@heilos (King Arthur)

@phantoms-lair (Mirror’s Gaze Fic)

@braveskyered (Knights Fic)

@pi-cat000 (Time Travel Idea Fic)

@thefandomcassandra (The Future Fic)

@tyigra (House of Strays Fic)

@hecallsmehischild (Rest Nestling/Explain it like I’m a Tree Fics)

@neversleepagainau 

@atomi-cat (Boneheads)

@ask-twoyearsafter / @kanaiekla (The Cruel Irony of a Prophetic Love Fic)

OC’s: @nerv0usm3chanic (Lucan), @binaconfusa (Frog), @lauritanaomystery (Laurel)

RP Blogs: @splatterlewis, @lamentinglewis, @frenzys-furnace, @bluescarfvivi, @punsandfuturekingsmen, @diviinc​)

[nightshadeshadow123]

Teasing:part 3 (Ratched)

Part 3 finally for those that wanted it. I'm glad ya'll enjoyed it enough to want a part 3 even though it's way OC but hell I tend to make things more OC than normally. Sorry if this smut part suck. I've tried my best to write this while away on this vacation and I'm glad to be finally home, my family have driven me crazy and was around most times I tried to wrote this part and had to entertain the two cutie capuchin monkeys my aunt have, lol now I'm thinking of Lenore Osgood with the capuchin monkey in Ratched too(lol those two cutiee were attached to me most times making it a challenge to type but I didn't mind that much.) This part got longer than I expected but aye it's smutty smut smut and ya'll thirsty like always anyways.

When Gwendolyn finally managed to park at the secluded medium sized house you two shared her juices was already dripping down your fingers and hand with two of your fingers still buried knuckle deep inside of her heated core.

She was beyond frustrated now because not even once have she been able to get a release because the instant you'd feel her get close you'd stop and keep your fingers still inside of her while Mildred whispered some rather dirty comments in her ear with her dark eyes occasionally focusing on the blonde before focusing back on your nimble juice coated fingers buried inside of the older woman that had her lip between her teeth almost drawing blood as the two of you keep her teetering on edge but never allowing her once to go over it.

You and Mildred shared a smug look and you took that opportunity to pull your fingers out of the other woman and seductively stick the two fingers in your mouth and licking every bit of sticky wetness off of them, never once breaking eye contact with the red haired woman as her eyes followed the movement, eyes darkening even more so in lust as she bit down on her lower lip.

Gwendolyn shot you a look, dilated blue eyes burning holes into the side of your head and ready to protest at the sudden empty feeling without your fingers in her but they soften when she saw the way you seem to enjoy the teasing you get out of Mildred with your juice covered fingers still in mouth before releasing them with a soft 'pop', before focusing your lust fulled gaze back on the blonde with a blank look on your face but she could clearly see the way you feel with just one look in your eyes.

Mildred had to resist the urge to not lean over and take your fingers into her mouth as you looked away to the older woman, rubbing her thighs together to try and relief the aching between her legs.

"Fucks sake, just stop torturing me with all this teasing! Let's go." Gwendolyn huffed out, as desperate look on her face and urging her door open and then slamming it shut behind her and speed walking to the front door of the house and ramming for the keys in her purse.

"Oh, someone nicely worked up and wantonly desperate." Mildred chuckled under her breath darkly, her low voice making you feel things as the eyes focused in on your, eyes narrowed in a sinister way.

You let out a chuckle and got out of the car and wait for Mildred as she rushed out too, following closely behind you as she took on the beautiful house, it was just the right type of size to give it a homely feel.

"Hmm, but I thought you loved being teased by me lover." You cooed the honeyed words into the blondes ear, leaning against her back, your tall height making it easy to lean on her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her waist and begin to plant sloppy kisses up her neck that have her shivering before you bite down on her pulse point, drawing a whimper out of her mouth that have both you and Mildred a wet mess.

"Oh fuck." She leaned her head back, her hands stopping to twist the key into the keyhole as she allow you to rub your clothed core up against her back, your warm breath and low moan falling from your lips against her ear making her tremble in delight before she snapped her eyes open again and open the door in a rush, pulling you inside and waiting for Mildred who followed behind while hungrily eyeing the two of you.

Gwendolyn the the door shut before throwing her purse and jacket that she had onto the black sofa that was the nearest and already began to pull her aching feet out of the cream heels she wore, abandoning them on the floor.

While the blonde was distracted with that, Mildred mustered up enough courage to move towards, slowly taking you by the waist and pulling you closer until your faces are inches apart and searching your eyes with hers before starting to lean in.

You smirked at this closing your eyes and not even a moment later you feel her soft lips on yours. At first it was a little unsure but the moment you wrapped a arm around her back and bury the other hand at the nape of her neck, pushing her firmly against your front she broke away from the kiss a moment, eyes staring in your hooded ones before smashing her lips against yours more firmly making you tighten your hold on her.

Gwendolyn looked up, eyes focused on the two of you as you kiss, enjoying to watch the two of you and curious where that might lead.

You bit at the Red haired woman's lip, keeping it between your teeth until she opened her mouth, allowing you access to slid your your tongue into her hot mouth, tongues brushing and battling up against one another's until she gave in and let you explore her mouth, her fingers digging into your waist and letting out a strangled whine into your mouth that you swallowed down, your nails digging into the nape of her neck, a shudder tingling down her spine as you continued to dominate her mouth.

Gwendolyn walked over and proceeded to put her hands on Mildred's waist and began to kiss up the side of her pale neck, occasionally nipping at the soft skin causing the nurse to shudder against you and her, let out a soft whine when you break away from the heated kiss after biting her lower again, a tinge a blood rising after you've nipped a bit too hard but she certainly didn't mind that one bit as she taste the ivory tinge in her mouth, head leaning back against the blonde woman behind her to allow her more acess to her neck.

You decide to target the other side of her neck, trailing kisses too until you got to her shoulder and softly sink your teeth into the flesh there making her jolt a little, a barely audible moan falling past her open lips as you sooth the barely there sting with your tongue.

After pulling away, you took her hand in yours and tug, motion with your head to a door and she can only guess it's a bedroom.

Gwendolyn felt the slight shift in her posture and pulled away to look and smiled when she saw what you wanted to do, urging the red haired woman to walk by gently nudging her flawed before pulling her hands away, allowing you to guide her to the be door while following the two of you.

Mildred looked around the room curiously, taking in the room that mostly consisted of black, white, purple and grey, her eyes stopping on the comfortable looking king sized bed that have black and purple sheets on.

You walked over to it and jumped on it, jostling around until you decide to lay on your stomach, looking at them both while running a hand to your now somewhat messier looking hair.

"Take a seat Mildred." You spoke up, patting on a spot near the side of the bed, (e/c) focused on her hungrily.

Mildred let's a smirk tug at her lips at the look in your eyes and walked over, sitting on the edge.

Gwendolyn shot the two of you a smile before beginning to undress herself.

You took the chance to sit up behind Mildred and kiss at her neck again, your arms snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against your front while you kept your kisses on her neck up.

Mildred shut her eyes, leaning back against you until you kiss up to her cheeck, using one hand to turn her face and capture her in a bruising kiss, tasting the subtle ivory taste of her blood from the bite earlier, a smirk tugging at your lips before you shoved your tongue into her mouth again as the nurse gripped your arm.

You rubbed her clothed hips for a while and trail one hand lower to her clothed core, palming it and take notice of her hips that's trying to buck up against your hand, trying to get friction breaking away from the kiss to stare into your eyes as much as possible from her position.

"More please." She asked huskily and who where you to deny. You slipped your hand into her black pants, rubbing her panty covered core, notching the growing wet patch on it before slipping it to the side, your fingers rubbing through her already soaked folds.

"Hmm, my my, aren't you just wet Nurse Ratched." You chuckled lowly into her ear, forcing her head to the side and bite her ear lobe.

She felt her breath hitch at this, a blush coating her pale cheecks.

Gwendolyn walked over, now completely naked and stop just in front of you and Mildred, watching as you toy with the red haired woman, the heat between her legs growing more am more from watching the two of you.

She began to tug Mildred's clothes of, pulling at her red jacket until you pulled away to give her more space to do so and Mildred didn't waste any time and started to pull her own clothes of while you watched, before slipping your grey dress off and the matching grey heels but keeping your bra and panties on, Mildred's lust fulled gaze immediately settling on your red bra and matching panties.

You sent her a smirk, lying back down and slowly trail your own hand down towards your center, rubbing over it slowly while, enjoying how her dark eyes focused on your hand there, suckling her lip between her teeth when you pushed your panties to the side and wetting two fingers with your juices and sinking them into your entrance, (e/c) eyes focused on the red haired nurse.

"Like what you see?" Gwendolyn asked in her ear, lust coating her voice as she trailed her dilated blue eyes focused on you.

Mildred nodded her head, a breathy "yes" falling from her lips.

The older woman smiled, eyes flicking to the woman standing in front of her. "Why don't you go and enjoy her even more." She nudged her forward and watched as the nurse joined you on the bed.

Her dark eyes once again focus on your hand as you pumped your fingers into yourself at a slow rhythm, while your other hand is playing with your bra covered breast, eyes focused on her once again and spreading your legs even further to give her a good view.

She leaned foward onto her stomach and elbows, both her hands resting on your lower legs and sliding upwards slowly until they reached your knees and that's when she jerked you downward almost a the way to her face, a yelp falling from your lips at the unexpected move from her, fingers almost slipping almost all the way out of your dripping center.

You shot her a look but she only gave you a smug smirk before forcefully grabbing your hand and pulling your fingers out of your center, taking the fingers into her mouth and sucking on them, eyes looking down at your wet panties, a dark chuckle leaving her at how ruined they are with sticky wetness and the smell of your arousal drawing her in.

"My my, just look at how wet you are you filthy girl." Mildred mocked your earlier statement in a low voice, leaning down to trace her tongue up the soaked fabric between your pussy lips, moaning at the taste of your fluids, the vibration causing your legs to jerked a bit as you leaned up on your elbows, (e/c) locking with hers in a heated haze as she looked up at you.

Gwendolyn walked over too before getting up on the other side of the bed and settling down near your head as she watched Mildred.

Mildred leaned down this time to kiss against your inner tights, pulling down your wet panties soon afterwards and discarding the fabric on the floor before kissing up your right leg up to your inner tight and settling her body down between your legs.

"Be a good girl and don't move your hips too much." Mildred said in a demanding voice, both her hands settling on your inner thighs with a firm grip, dark eyes locked onto yours.

Before you could say something snarky to the nurse you got caught off by a whimper tearing from your throat as she sucked your clit into her warm mouth, nails digging into your thighs, almost drawing blood as your head fall back, hips jerking unintentionally even more so when Gwendolyn start to trace her fingertips to your bellybutton, her fingers catching the red diamond bellybutton ring there for a moment before moving lower till under Mildred's chin, moving two fingers to part your soaked pussy lips for the red haired woman.

"I said no moving." Mildred growled out after pulling away, eyes narrowed into slits at you and proceeded to flung your legs over her shoulders.

"Sorry Nurse Ratched." You panted out, one of your hands gripping your hair slightly while you try to keep your legs steady over the red haired woman's firm shoulders.

Gwendolyn chuckled lowly at you, rubbing your clit in slow circles. "Who knew you'd be such a submissive girl for the nurse."

You only let out a moan at the woman, enjoying the way she's rubbing circles on your clit.

Mildred kissed the blondes hand affectionately and looked into her blue eyes until the older woman pulled her hand away completely and decided to flung your bra off after struggling a few moments.

Mildred stuck her tongue out, licking from your soaked entrance and up to your clit again and taking the nub into her mouth, teeth skimming over it softly.

You let a soft moan out and dug your fingers into her hair that is hanging loosely around her after Gwendolyn have hurried pulled it loose when she helped to undress her.

Gwendolyn sucked one of your nipples into her mouth, teeth sinking into the soft flesh around it, a strangled sound falling from your lips while her other hand squeezed your other boob.

The blonde kept this up for a few moments before switching over to the other nipple, repeating her earlier actions.

You let you soft moans and take notice when the older woman's breast rubbed up against your side, reaching your free hand up to play with her soft mounds while tightening your grip on Mildred's hair with the other hand.

Gwendolyn pulled away before crashing her lips against yours, the kiss starting off slow at first until getting more heated, swallowing down your moans you let out when Mildred plunged two fingers into your clenching entrance while lapping at your nub with her tongue.

The blonde woman made out with you for a few moments before pulling away and trying to catch her breath.

You opened your eyes to look up at the woman and gave her a breathy smile.

"Sit on my face." You said lowly after a minute, tightening your legs around Mildred's shoulders and moaning when the nurse pulled away to bite at your pussy in warning before licking your clit again.

"Are you certain?" The blonde questioned and you shot her a blank look, mind reeling because she always asked that the first few times.

"I am certain. I love it when you do it." You assured her, softly rubbing her leg.

Gwendolyn shot you one last smile before pushing herself up, putting her legs on either side of your head and lowering herself slowly but you grew impatient to taste her and only flung your hands up to grip her hips and slammed her down onto your lips, tongue immediately darting into her sopping entrance.

"Of fuck!" The older woman let out a moan at your sudden impatient rough handling but she sure didn't mind as she sunk one hand hands fingers into your (h/c) locks while she steadied herself with the other one on the soft bed, hips jerking against your eager mouth as you plunge your tongue as deep as possible into her, lapping up any juices you could get.

Mildred looked up at the sound of the older woman's sounds and seeing at how eagerly you are thrusting your tongue into the blonde woman and she grew even more wet, almost wanting to reach down and touch herself, relief the aching between her legs but she just opted to suck more harshly on your clit, pulling a loud moan from you, your nails digging into the blondes hips as she shook against you at the stimulating feeling the moan have caused into her heated core.

You softened your grip on the older woman, your hands running soothingly over her soft hips as you allow your tongue to run over her soaked lips before kissing and biting at her nub into your mouth.

Gwendolyn let out a pant, her grip on your hair firm as she tried to hold back her moans but failing miserably, already feeling her orgasm approaching again, desperate for release after all the teasing you and Mildred did in with her in the car.

You could tell and bring your hand up, wetting two fingers and sliding them into her entrance, already plunging them into her at a fast pace, not bothering to give her time to adjust, the other hand settling on her hip again, nails digging into her once again, you could also feel your release not so far behind, legs tightening around the other woman's shoulders.

Mildred nipped at your clit again, spreading your lips and rubbing your nub in sensual circles with her thumb, every so often humming against you to cause more stimulation coursing through your core, her other hand on your inner thigh moving to your entrance, three fingers pushing into your entrance and rubbing against the spongey layer with precision, her pace not once faltering even when your walls flutter against her fingers tightly.

"Shit! Don't stop doing that!" You ordered out at Mildred after pulling your mouth away from the blonde woman, your hand that was on the older woman's hip flying down to tangle in Mildred's hair firmly, tugging at it at times.

She comply, not wanting to stop anyways, letting out a hum while you returned to eating Gwendolyn out once again, a moan falling from your lips.

Gwendolyn tried to keep her orgasm in a little while longer, a shiver running up her spine at the moans you release against her wet core biting her lip to keep in her moans more.

"Don't hold back lover." You cooed up at the woman, a smirk tugging at your lips as you breath out warm air against her clit, picking up the pace of your fingers even more before letting your tongue run in circles around her nub now.

Gwendolyn threw her eyes shut, a desperate whimper falling from her lips as she move herself more against your mouth, pulling at your hair.

"O-oh f-". Gwendolyn cut of midsentence as she felt her orgasm washing over her when you sucked her nub into your mouth, finger scissoring her while thrusting into her fluttering core.

You happily lapped up her gushing juices, your tongue thrusting into her to lick every last drop until the blonde woman moved off of you, trying to get away from you that always loves to over stimulate her right after she's finished, one of her hands flying up to run through her messy blonde locks as she panted to catch her breath, lying down next to you onto her back, sending you a breathless smile when your eyes connected with her blue ones, one of your hands rubbing at her hips softly.

Mildred looked at the two of you affectionately, for some reason she enjoyed seeing you and the older woman so affection with one another. She knew you could be just as cold at times but you've never once been cold to her or Gwendolyn and even Huck even when your bitch switch was triggered and she was happy for that reason and sure got a kick out of it when you ran your mouth at Nurse Bucket, you've certainly not fallen on your mouth when you were little.

The nurse sank her teeth into the flesh of your nub, her three fingers curling inside of you and rubbing against your g-spot, a loud moan falling from your lips and eyes falling shut as your orgasm draw dangerously close, just on the brink now.

The nurse could tell you tried to hold back, moving her hands to rub against your upper thights before moving around you to tightly grip your ass, forcing her tongue inside of your entrance as deep as possible, ignoring the way you tightening your legs around her shoulders as you moaned out freely now, hips jolting against her mouth.

It only took few more thrust of her tongue into you until you felt your orgasm raking through you, legs shaking and moan forcing it's way through your throat but it was swallowed by Gwendolyn when she smashed her lips against yours, greedily swallowing the others that followed shortly afterwards as the red haired woman between your legs lick up your juices languidly, her soft hands rubbing your legs soothingly after she pulled them from around her shoulders.

"Good girl." The nurse cooed against your upper leg, her warm breath tickling your skin, goosebumps dotting your skin.

She crawled up your body after Gwendolyn pulled away from the kiss, her hands dipping into the soft mattress on either side of your head.

"You taste amazing Babygirl." She husked out in her low voice, her hooded dark eyes staring deeply into yours as your cheecks dusted on a soft pink but not breaking eye contact with the magnificent woman on top of you.

"I bet you taste even better." You snarked out, your eyes flicking to her lips.

The nurse smirked at you, taking notice of your eyes on her lips.

"Do you now?" She chuckled lowly, leaning down, her lips trailing kisses up your neck and shoulder until they reached your lips, her tongue immediately pushing past your lips and domenating your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself on her tongue.

You took the moment she was distracted to wrap your legs around her waist and flipped her over, hands pinning Mildred's hands above her head, smirk playing at your lips even when Gwendolyn smacked at your ass for jostling her from the sudden movement.

"Getting kinky now are we?" You shot the blonde a full smirk, your hips pinning Mildred's to the bed when she tried to move to try and flip you.

"Ah ah, you aren't in charge at the moment Nurse Ratched." You looked down at the red haired woman, your forehead resting against her as she huffed a breath out against your lips as you began to rub your core against hers in a sensual way, smiling down at her when you drew a moan from her lips as her eyes closed briefly at the wonderful sensation, hips thrusting back against yours as she raised her legs to give you more access there, goosebumps peppering her skin when the cold metal piece of your bellybutton ring fell and slid against her naked stomach, finding the feeling surprisingly enjoyable.

Gwendolyn ran a hand up your naked back side, nails trailing up your spine in the way she knew you loved, her nails digging into your flesh near the nape of your neck while she focused her eyes focused on your lower back muscles a they flexed slightly from the way you are thrusting your core against Mildred's, a delicious moan falling from your lips.

"You two enjoy yourselves. I'll go and wash up and prepare as a lovely meal again." The blonde woman kissed your cheeck adoringly and got up from the bed.

"But do be careful Mildred, she can be quite insatiable when she wants to be." Gwendolyn shot the the red haired nurse a wink when the woman stared up at her from underneath you, watching as the older woman walked out of the room after grabbing some comfortable looking pyjamas.

You smirked when you noticed the red haired woman's distraction, snapping your hips firmly against hers, your core rubbing against hers deliciously, a strangled moan falling from her as she shot her eyes up to yours, one of her hands shooting down to grope your ass cheeck firmly and the other one grabbing your hip, nails digging into it, mouth agape as you picked a fast but still sensual pace.

"O-oh god! Please don't stop! That f-feels so good." She moaned into your ear as you lowered your head to kiss her clavicle, one hand gripping the back of her leg tightly to ground harder against her soaking center, her sticky wetness smearing against your center and inner thights but you enjoyed that.

You bit down hard on her shoulder, a yelp escaping her and then a moan when you soothed the bite with your tongue before kissing up her neck and slammed your lips against her swollen lips in a bruising kiss, shoving your tongue into her mouth immediately and fighting hers for dominance, smugness spreading through you as her fight weakens until she finally allowed you do dominate her mouth once again, humming into your mouth, feeling herself get impossibly wetter at being dominated and the feeling of your erected nipples rubbing against hers sending tingels all over that pulsate right to her core with a strong force, not long after feeling the all too familiar burning sensation of her orgasm nearing as you kept a relentless pace against her core with yours.

"Ah! Just like that. I-I'm so cl-ose!" She panted out after pulling away from the heated kiss, her grip on your ass tightening and her nails that dug into your hip drawing blood as she rubbed herself against you with more force, her mouth open in a silent moan when you wrapped one of her legs around your lower back to pick up more speed.

Oh how you loved seeing this usual stoic nurse powerless for once as you pleasure her, ignoring your second orgasm approaching, solely focused on seeing the older woman beneath you become a helpless heaving mess.

"I'm gonn-..." she was cut of by her orgasm crashing through her without warning, walls pulsating out juices and her leg tightening around you as hard as possible as whimpers fall from her kiss swollen lips, dark eyes screwed shut and one of her hands throw in her hair.

You steadily slowed your pace, helping her ride out her high and moaning at her wetness coating your thights and core, kissing her temple softly, your lips lingering there until you've completely stopped all movement of your hips, eyes staring down and her warmly as she panted out from her orgasm, trying to regain her breath.

She have you a breathless smile, eyes glimmering with adoration and love, her hand moving a lock of hair away from your face.

"That was amazing, thank you." Mildred breathed out.

You only give her a teasing smirk, kissing the inside of her hand before swiftly moving down her body and in between her legs, head lowering and immediately you swiped your tongue over her wet puss lips, liking away her juices as her legs jerk in surprise, her hand flying to your head and gripping your hair as you swirled your tongue around her nub, nipping it gently a few times, delighting in her soft sighs falling from her mouth.

"I'm not done with you yet love." You said lowly, making eye contact with her as you spread her legs apart with your arms and suck her nub into your mouth, tongue running over it teasingly slow followed by a sudden harsh suck that have her bucking her hips, grip in your hair tightening and playing with one of her boobs.

She could only smile to herself. She didn't quite expected for you to be so dominant and insatiable at one moment and soft and and submissive the next, the first time she have met you at Lucia state hospital but she surely didn't mind this one bit.

You release her nub and trailed your nose and lips against her clit, blowing cool air onto her skin before delving your tongue between her lips and into her entrance to lick up the juices from her earlier orgasm.

She groaned, her other hand moving down to rub her nub in slow circles but you only bit her hand, not too hard hard but just enough to make her jerk it away, looking down at you in surprise.

"No touching yourself while I'm busy with you." You warned before delving your tongue into her warm entrance again, pinching her nub between your pointer and middle finger, pulling on it at times and then rubbing it up and down still between your fingers.

Mildred threw her head back and bucked against you more, trying to chase the second orgasm approaching fast, her hand back on her boob and pinching her nipple as she whimpered and moan freely, sure that Gwendolyn can here it at this point.

You could feel her walls tighten around your tongue, indication that's she's near again along with her loud moans and that spurred you on more, rubbing her nub vigorously and tongue curling inside of her tightened walls, eagerly running against her spongey walls.

A few moment later she tried to mutter out something but she couldn't due to her orgasm crashing through her body like a tidal wave, her legs shaking weakly as you held them down so she can't move them as you sucked her juices up from inside of her as her cum washed over your tongue and mouth, her glistening juices coating your chin and jaw.

"Oh Shit!" She yelled out, trying to move away from your mouth but you easily over power her, your hands on her hips keeping her down as you sucked up the last bit of juices from her overstimulated core and kissing her inner thight affectionately.

"I only stop when I want to." You growled against her soft tight before crawling up the bed and turning her onto her side, spooning her from behind, your front pressed flushed against her back while she panted for breath once more but enjoying the act of affection, her hand moving to interlock with one of yours.

"Oh no no, don't think I'm done with you yet love." You whispered against her ear, running the tip of your tongue from the shell of her ear and taking it into your mouth, your knee parting her legs as you slipped your hand downwards, finger dipping into her bellybutton briefly before moving do wards and immediately you sunk three fingers into her weeping soaked entrance without warning, tearing a choked sob from her as you already pound your fingers into her with a merciless pace.

"Fuc-Oh!" She cut of, her breath heavy as whine slipped out, one hand gripping the sheets below her until her knuckles turned white while her other hand move to your wrist, trying to get you to stop, fearing that she'd be a weeping mess if you tore another painfully delicious orgasm from her.

"I said no touching." You growled in her ear, moving your head down to nip at the side of her neck, deciding to make the pace of your fingers as fast as possible as her punishment, the squelching of her wet walls around your fingers making you ache and impossibly wey between your legs but you ignored it once again.

Mildred moaned loudly, her dark eyes screwed shut as she reluctantly pulled her hand away just teetering on the edge of another orgasm as she bite down on her lower lip painfully until she drew blood.

"F-fucking Shit!" She yelled before a broken sob moan left her mouth, her eyes closing so hard that tears slid from them as she squirted around your fingers and hand hard, her wekened legs trying to close as you pumped your now beyond soaked fingers into her soaked oversinsitive pussy a few more times but you didn't allow her to by moving your leg in between both of hers.

"Did you really just squirted?" You asked amusedly and half shocked, pulling your fingers from her pulsating entrance and shoving the fingers into into your mouth to lick everything off.

"You dirty woman." You mused into her ear after releasing your fingers from your mouth, until you noticed the tears on her half red cheecks.

"Shit sorry. Did I hurt you?" You asked worriedly, wiping your gently across her cheecks until her salty tears are gone.

"N-no. You didn't-havent hurted me at all. Those orgasms was just so intense. I've never experienced three orgasms all at once." The red haired woman assured you before rolling over until she's facing you and wrapped your arms around her, pushing her do front flush against yours, just wanting the comforting yet intimate skin to skin contact with you while she panted for breath, nuzzling contentedly into your neck as your head rest atop of hers, your hands rubbing her back and spine in a comforting and affectionate way, contentment filling your whole body.

Mildred looked up at you suddenly. "You've only came once. That's not fair." She tried to move her hands to your core but you tightened your arms around her.

"Hey, it's fine. Tonight was all about you. Besides I'm more of a giver than a receiver anyways." You kissed her temple gently.

"Now relax with me." You murmured against her skin, (e/c) closing as you kept your lips on her temple.

Mildred nuzzled back into your neck, a content smile on her lips as she closed her dark eyes too, just completely relaxing into your comfortable embrace, wishing to stay like this forever with just you and Gwendolyn.

Gwendolyn pushed the door to the room open, eyes full of adoration and love as she looked over to the two of you cuddling, making her way over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.

"It looks like the two of you had fun." The blonde said amusedly.

You looked to the older woman, head still on Mildred's. "We sure did."

"I heard so. Mildred was really loud at times but I certainly didn't mind at all." She smiled, one hand rubbing over Mildred's hip softly causing the red haired woman to shoot her a smile but staying still.

"I've made something to eat. The two of you should join me and we can have some wine and maybe watch some movies." Gwendolyn suggested.

"I've don't think I'll be able to walk for a while, my legs are still weak." Mildred mumbled against your neck, pink dusting her cheecks.

Gwendolyn laughed at this and patted Mildred's hip.

"Oh okay, we can rest here for awhile." She scooted over next to Mildred, throwing one arm over the woman too.

You smiled over at the blonde as you caught her blue eyes over Mildred's shoulder and she happily returned it.

-End

Hey guys, I hope you guys enjoyed this part as much as I enjoyed writing it and sorry if it's cringey but I've tried my best with this smut part. And sorry for those that wanted a more sub reader but I'm a dom switch and I just couldn't resist adding it into the story. And let's just pretend that bellybutton rings existed back then, I love them so much.

[airplanelanding]

For the Angst April Fic: 25 - Immortality

YES THIS WAS ONE I RLY WANTED TO DO TYSM HELL YES THIS IS GONNA BE AN ANGSTY ONE (also loving the new post editor on desktopppp [i have beta on])

Tysm for sending me this one ohhh I'm so happy you sent this one

cw: temporary character death, (technically) suicide (but in the context of proving immortality & bc he knew he'd survive, not because he was suicidal)

Fic below the cut

Immortality

Merlin breathed out slowly, the air leaving his lungs with a sigh.

His eyes fell shut, drooping slowly lower and lower until they closed, and his grip on Arthur began to loosen.

Faintly, he heard a panicked voice stumbling through words he couldn't understand.

He could feel his heartrate slowing. One... Two...... Three...... Four...... Five...... Six......

Slower, slower, slower...

His name, he heard his name being called. A choked sob. A tight grip around his body. Then, nothing...

Then...

Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes opening abruptly. There was a harsh, stinging pain in his stomach. He ignored it for the moment, as he broke out into a coughing fit, desperately gasping for breath between coughs.

He didn't—what just happened? He was sure he had—

"Merlin?!" The voice ripped him out of his confusion as he quickly turned his gaze to the man cradling his body in his arms.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked, his voice rough from coughing so much.

"Merlin, no, but you were..." Arthur's grip on Merlin loosened, his confusion clear as day. "We have to get you back home, back to Gaius."

Merlin just groaned softly, leaning his head against the King's chest. "'m tired..."

Arthur slowly stood up, lifting Merlin in his arms as he did so he was carrying him.

"Don't fall asleep, Merlin, dammit, you're such an idiot..." Arthur muttered as he began to walk, "we're lucky we're close enough to the edge of the forest, the attack spooked the horses... You can't just keep jumping in front of me like that, sorcerer or not, one of these you're going to—I thought this time you had..."

The sorcerer just groaned again and shut his eyes.

"I did..." He whispered, trying his hardest not to let sleep take him. He felt Arthur tense, stumbling in his step slightly.

"No, no you couldn't have, because you're alive," Arthur sounded more like he was trying to assure himself rather than Merlin. "You just lost consciousness for a few minutes. That's all."

Merlin frowned but didn't argue, not having the energy. Instead he just hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. He knew he died... He felt it. He felt himself die, his heart stop... Yet, he was alive. He was breathing. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached and his stomach burned where he was struck, but... He was alive.

How was he alive?

"Merlin... Merlin, my boy, I need you to open your eyes..."

Ah, Gaius, he must be home... When did he fall asleep? Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes.

"Gaius...?" Merlin groaned, looking around for the man as he blinked a few times to clear his eyes, "What happened? I—I died... But I'm alive."

When his eyes finally landed on the old physician's grim expression, a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Merlin, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Gaius sighed, before sitting down on the edge of the sorcerer's bed. "Arthur brought you back, with a fatal wound in your stomach. He told me what happened and I am certain that you did not just lose consciousness, I am certain you died..."

"I did, I felt it happen, but, Gaius, I am alive," Merlin insisted, propping himself up on his elbows with a wince.

Gaius' mouth drew into a thin line. "You are, indeed. So, I did some research while you were out these past three days—"

"Three days?!"

"—and I discovered something... Something about your name to the druids," Gaius continued as if Merlin never interrupted him. "Emrys, it... Means immortal. And these events are leading me to the conclusion that they don't call you this for no reason."

Merlin's heart dropped. Immortal... He's... Merlin shook his head.

"No, no, there must be another explanation," he laughed, but he was not at all amused. Gaius sighed softly and placed a hand on his wards shoulder.

"I'm afraid there's not... I consulted Mordred, and he confirmed my suspicion. You're immortal, Merlin."

Merlin slumped down onto his magic. He felt ill... Oh gods, he felt so sick.

"But I can't be..."

Merlin took a deep breath as he paced the King’s chambers, waiting for him to arrive back from a council meeting.

How was he supposed to tell Arthur the truth?

He couldn’t lie—he promised, they promised. No more secrets, no more lies. But dammit, this was… This wasn’t just something like he had magic, or he’d ripped his favourite shirt.

He was immortal.

Oh, it felt so wrong to even think…

How do you tell someone you’re immortal? How do you tell someone you love that you’re going to live forever, that you’ll have to watch them wither away and die along with everyone else you know…?

Merlin took a nervous breath and let himself drop into a chair at Arthur’s table. He was going to have to watch everyone he’d ever loved die…

He was forced to live on for eternity while everyone he cared about struggled with mortality.

A cruel fate… Yet, the druids dared to call him blessed.

Blessed. That was a good joke.

How could one be called blessed when condemned to such a life?

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. He’d be alone… Never able to grow attached to someone, too afraid of losing them like he knew he would… A lonely life, he’d be sentenced to. Should he start pushing people away now…? Save himself the pain?

No, he couldn’t. That would be cruel to them, as well as himself…

“Merlin?” The sorcerer nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice to his right. “Merlin, you’re awake! And, up! How are you feeling?”

Merlin dropped his hands and looked over to Arthur, who looked so happy and hopeful at the sight of him. Here he was, about to crush that…

“I—” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur’s brows furrowed in a frown.

“You? You what?” The King pushed, concern flickering on his face a moment, “are you alright? You look like you’re about to be ill. Should you be out of bed yet? Gaius said you only just woke recently…”

A tense silence hung between them, as Merlin contemplated how to say the words that had been weighing on his chest. Finally, when Arthur looked like he was going to give up, Merlin found the courage to speak up.

“I can’t die,” he forced out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes widened impossibly wide, as he stared incredulously at his friend and lover.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

“…What?” He finally got out. Merlin gave a weak smile, knowing just how crazy it sounded.

“I can’t die,” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as the reality of it hit him, this having been the first time he spoke the words aloud. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears as he stared at Arthur, holding eye contact. “I…I’m immortal, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a breath, stunned by the revelation.

Merlin expected him to laugh, to claim him lying, or even to leave the room or tell Merlin to leave. Even after all they’d been through, after the months they’d been together after finally getting their heads out of their asses and confessing… Merlin was shocked, only minorly but still so, when Arthur suddenly grabbed and pulled Merlin into a tight embrace.

He tensed a moment, startled, but slowly relaxed and returned the hug, burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Arthur murmured, “what do you say when you find out your soon-to-be husband is immortal?”

Merlin huffed out a soft laugh. “I don’t know… I didn’t think we’d ever have to deal with that.”

Arthur hummed softly before falling quiet. They stood there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes, just…silent. Until, finally, Merlin pulled away with a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Arthur sighed, raising a hand to the sorcerer’s face and cupping his cheek, “we’ll get through this together, yes?”

“There’s not much to get through, Arthur… I’m going to have to watch everyone I’ve ever loved die before my eyes,” Merlin muttered, before leaning into the touch, “but yes, I won’t turn down your support…”

Arthur frowned at him a moment before exhaling and stepping back to stretch. “Let’s take your mind off this. I have some new legislation to review, come assist me.”

Merlin laid in Arthur’s bed that night, unable to sleep. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he laid on his side, staring at his betrothed.

Before, Destiny had weighed him down with the possibility that he’d be forced to watch the man he loved be taken from him. Now… Now, it was inevitable. He would watch as Arthur faded from life, no matter how he died. He’d have to watch him… He would lose him and he could do nothing.

It wasn’t just Arthur, either, he realized with a pang of hurt.

Gwen… Morgana, Leon… Elyan, and Gwaine, and Lancelot… Percival… Everyone. Everyone was going to be taken from him.

Gaius… His mother.

Merlin choked back a sob, closing his eyes tightly. Everyone. Everyone.

He could never have children.

Oh, gods, he could never have children… He—he’d be condemned to watch them grow old and die.

Was this really what fate wanted for him? What destiny planned?

How cruel. How unnecessarily, unbelievably cruel. What was the point of it? Why, why do this to him? Did they simply wish to see him suffer? Did the gods believe they were granting him a favour? Did they believe they were rewarding him, by subjecting him to a life of eternal loneliness and heartache?

Did they think it amusing?

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, thick with sleep, snapped him out of his spiral, “why are you awake, cariad? It’s the middle of the night…”

Merlin quickly wiped away the tears that had slipped free, as Arthur blinked open his eyes slowly and yawned. “Couldn’t sleep…” He mumbled, “what about you? Did I wake you?”

“Mm… Technically, no, but I could feel your eyes on me.” Arthur shifted closer and pulled Merlin against him, resting their foreheads together. “What were you thinking about? Oh, no, I know…”

He paused, yawning again, before continuing. “The immortal thing, hm?”

Merlin’s silence seemed to be all the answer needed, because Arthur sighed softly and pressed a tired kiss to his nose.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? It’ll be fine, Merlin,” he assured, sounding way too confident for someone who’s words were slurred, “we’ll figure something out… We always do. You won’t be alone… won’t let you…”

“I appreciate that, Arthur…” Merlin said truthfully, “now, get back to sleep… You have things to do tomorrow.”

Arthur hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You sleep, too…” He ordered as he drifted back to sleep.

“I’ll try,” Merlin promised, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Arthur.

It was a sennight later that Merlin wandered the castle corridors with a frown on his face, eyes searching a head of blond as he walked.

Arthur had been acting strange since they discovered Merlin’s immortality, and now… Now he was just gone?

Merlin had searched the castle three times, and no one had seen him all day. He woke up without the King in bed beside him, the knights knew nothing, the servants knew nothing, Gaius and Gwen knew nothing…

It was like he just disappeared!

How does a King disappear?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. He was worried, yes, of course, but he was also growing slowly angry.

How dare he just disappear without a word?! That man had better have been kidnapped for his sake. After another few minutes searching the castle, Merlin finally just stalked back to their chambers.

Arthur had better have a very good explanation when he got back, Merlin decided as he flung the doors open and stomped over to the bed before flopping onto it. Or else he’d getting turned into a toad. A big, ugly, slimy, wart-covered toad. And Merlin’s not changing him back.

Merlin groaned loudly into the duvet in frustration.

Stupid, stupid prat.

How dare he just disappear like it was nothing and leave Merlin there to worry like a mother hen over her eggs all day! He probably didn’t even realize how concerned Merlin was now.

It wasn’t like he was worried for no good reason, either, because that damn man knew how to get into trouble in any situation, and how the hell is he supposed to help Merlin deal with the fact that he’s immortal if he’s deadthanks to his own idiocy!

Merlin’s stomach turned at the thought, and he rolled over onto his back before sitting up. A frown creased his forehead, and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

What if he really was in danger? What if he was really in danger and Merlin was here, thinking bad about him?

He should go look for him again.

He’s immortal, after all (yay), he doesn’t have to worry about dying protecting Arthur! Arthur, on the other hand, was a fucking beacon for assassins and danger. Right. That decided it.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the door. Then, right as he moved to open it, the door opened to reveal the very prat he was leaving to save, and his heart calmed. He was safe.

“You’re safe…” Merlin sighed, visibly relieved. Arthur frowned in confusion and nodded.

“Yes… I am,” he agreed. Then, it hit Merlin.

He’s safe.

Merlin narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I’m going to turn you into a toad and squash you beneath my boot.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction, before his lips pulled up into an amused smirk.

“Well, that’s rather messy—and graphic.”

“You deserve no less, where have you been?!”

“I was, with the druids, actually,” Arthur cleared his throat, looking away, “Morgana took me to see them.”

Merlin frowned, his glare disappearing to be replaced with a confused look. “What? Why were you with the druids? What took you all day with the druids?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I… Needed their help with something. Look, it’s better if I just show you.”

The warlock raised an eyebrow, but let Arthur usher him into the room further, before sitting down at the table.

“Okay, go ahead, show me. What was worth making me worry my ass off?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Arthur gave him a nervous smile before pulling a small phial out of his satchel and uncorking it.

Merlin tilted his head, frowning deeply. What was he…?

“Merlin, I’m immortal, too,” Arthur told him softly, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, laughing in obvious disbelief.

“Right, and I’m a god.”

Arthur sighed and hesitated, then raised the phial of liquid to his lips.

“Here goes nothing,” he murmured before downing the contents. Merlin watched, growing more and more confused by his betrothed’s actions.

It was only when the phial slipped from Arthur’s hands and shattered on the ground as his skin began to pale and hands began to tremble that Merlin realized what was happening, and panic filled his body.

“Arthur? Arthur!” Merlin was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders as he began to go limp, the—what Merlin now recognized as—poison taking action too fast for Merlin to think of a solution. He didn’t even know what he took! How could he help?! Arthur knew he was shit at healing magic, which was ironic considering he worked with Gaius for so long! “Arthur! Dammit, what are you doing?! Fuck, what did you do?!?”

Merlin’s heart was pounding and tears were filling his eyes as his breath quickened. “Fuck! Arthur, you bastard!” He snapped, unsure what to do, as Arthur’s body slumped in his arms.

He felt the King stop breathing in his arms and he swore his own heart stopped. Then… There was a gasp. A loud, sharp gasp. Then, a fit of coughs wracked Arthur’s body, his shoulders shaking.

Merlin was frozen, stunned. He… He was… But now he was… He really is—

“Arthur, oh, Arthur what did you do?”

Once he had stopped coughing, and Merlin had walked them over and sat them on the bed, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled stupidly.

“I had the druids show me how to use the cup of life,” he explained in a murmur, “I didn’t want you to be alone, for eternity. Now you won’t have to be.”

Merlin stared in silence at his betrothed for a few moments, shocked speechless. Arthur glanced away, coughing a bit more.

“Remind me, to never take Hemlock again,” he muttered rubbing his throat.

That snapped Merlin right out of his daze and he cuffed Arthur upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place! What in the hell were you thinking?!” He demanded to know.

“I was thinking you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you I was immortal!”

“I would’ve if you just told me you used the cup!”

“Oh…”

Merlin let out a high laugh, shaking his head.

“Yes, oh!”

Arthur bit his lip, before looking away sheepishly. “Sorry… I suppose, I was just eager to tell you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore…”

A soft sigh let Merlin’s lips, and he ignored the way his heart flipped. “You’re an idiotic prat, you know? A massive cabbagehead. But… You just gave up your mortality for me… And while part of me hates that you’ll now be subjected to the same pain as I will be when our friends’ times come… I can’t help but feel so…”

“So, what?” Arthur pushed gently, laying back on the bed. Merlin shook his head and laid back beside him.

“I love you… And I can’t believe you love me so much, as to literally give up your mortality for me.”

Arthur smiled and looked over at him, his eyes drooping sleepily (probably tired from dying).

“I’d give up anything for you…”

[wildcardjoey]

Nostalgia

So I’m sure my followers noticed my sudden Mianite brain rot. 

It went deeper than you probably expected. I accidently ended up with an AU idea taking place after the group escapes the s2 world. They don’t hit their target, and end up lost in the void. The world of Mianite eventually also fell to Death as it was left to Nadeshot alone with a supporting god as most of those who remained in the world were Dianite followers, wizards, and the priest. The alternates did arrive, even managing to resurrect that world’s Dianite, but too little too late.

There was hope though. The Light in a single world had taken it upon herself to become a guide to those lost, and to combat the darkness which had become the reaper of worlds. Many heroes and world travelers had been taken in by her.

She found the survivors of world 1 first. They pretty much fell straight to her. It wasn’t until years later though that the group that fled through Mianite’s portal in the collapsing s2 world  even came close enough to her world to be noticed. But when they did, tailed by the reaper. their magic practically screaming their cry for salvation from the dark, she answered. 

I didn’t know how to present how this AU would be toned, so below is a piece I wrote for this

Nostalgic

That is the best way Tom could describe this feeling. Not just from the familiar, scorching, and oddly soothing heat of the nether permeating this dungeon built deep within it. Honestly after years in the void any heat feels close to scorching but feels just as good. No, not the layout of this place reminding him of the temple of Dianite, a bit ironic though that such a structure was built to imprison the same figure.

“Are you sure about this, Sydney? you don’t have to listen to him no more. Ye’ and ye’r freinds killed him once already, ye’ renounced him, and ye’ took his power. Even without stepin’ in there I can tell you could probably take it back ‘f you really wanted it. ‘f you wanted, I could ‘ven go in there m’self and ruff ‘im up.”

“... Maybe. It’s mostly curiosity, honestly. He should know I won’t help him, so whatever he asked for me for should at least be interesting.”

“Well, ‘f you’re sure.”

Tom opened the door to the cell slowly, the door creaked loudly as it opened to a large, poorly lit room with great chains and complex magic circles and sigils covering the floors and walls. That nostalgia grew with the source ever closer.

Nostalgia seemed to permeate the air, as the chaos god before him leaked power he was very familiar with. One he once wielded, even if only for a short time.

“Syndicate. If it isn’t my most hated follower. How are you, My Boy?”

The god smiled wide. It looked hideous, not just because of the far more snout like face this Dianite had in comparison to the ‘I have to look presentable but intimidating’ face Ruxomar’s Dianite has, where his mostly human face is meant to be unnerving but still allow for smooth negotiation. No, that smile was unnerving because Tom only recalls seeing it once before.

The only time Dianite- sorry, Dickanite, as they’d began calling him to differentiate between him and Dianite- had ever smiled was when he was unbelievably pissed, when he had fought the heroes for the final key.

“What did you call me here for?”

The smile seemed to grow. “Straight to the point. I recall you only acted like that whe you wanted something. Otherwise you were content to waist your own and everyone else’s time.”

“On with it.”

“Alright, alright. First, though, I’d like to ask when you’re planning to break me out of here.”

There it is.

“You are-”

“‘Crazy if you think I’ll even considder breaking you out!’ and yet, I’ve never been more sure of anything. No, I don’t expect you to still have some lingering feelings of loyalty or attachment, no I don’t expect you to pull a big betrayal, but I know better than anyone that you will break me free all the same. Do you know why?”

Tom was quiet. What the hell did this dickhead think he was talking about?

“... Why?”

The god looked off into the walls of the room.

“Among my followers, you have been so atypical and yet so odd in comparison to others. It wasn’t unique for one to know my true nature or be so zealous and sincere, but those two traits simply did not go together. The ones who knew my true nature were only in it for the power while the zealous ones were those lied to by the others. Yet you followed me zealously because of what I was, without the expectation of power at first or even later on. There were those who followed me simply because they loved the destruction, but they would betray at the first sign of my not approving. And yet you stuck through each time I took my blessings from you, because you were truly loyal for some odd reason. It took me the first months after being resurrected to realize all that and it wasn’t until I was locked in here that I could even guess why.”

The god was clearly spewing crap. “Oh? And why would that be?” 

“Being locked in here, I’ve had a lot of time. Time I’ve dedicated to a single purpose. Being able to confirm with my own two eyes what I had already guessed.”

The god finally turned his head to look once more at Tom.

“When I found out that blind incarnation of The Light this world calls The Guide could see, I knew I just had to find how she did it. Not reaching out to other worlds, of course, but seeing them, and seeing the destinies of all within them. It took time, but you four and the wizard took so long getting here that I had plenty. The reason I called you here was to complete that confirmation.”

The god stared deeper into Tom. the meaning of the smile seemed to change to genuine glee, like the god might have felt had any of the plans he tasked Tom with panned out.

“And I was right. Seeing your destinies only confirms it for me.

Laid out before you in bright gold is the path towards simply taking my power from me once more and with it, conquering all other  versions of me that have been brought to this world, becoming King of kings among the gods who rule this nether in sections rather than a whole.

If that were too grand for you, a path you’ve even traversed quite a bit was the destiny of a great treasure hunter, crawling through dungeons, bringing treasures for a hoard comparable to that of a dragon.

If even that were too busy, and we both know you well enough to know that isn’t true, then simply continuing the craft you had began honing in that other world, becoming a legendary smith, would have been a fine calling.

Three paths you would have enjoyed greatly, ones that would have given you a grand legacy, destiny has laid them out for you, and yet you continue to walk a path without an end. A path that was meant to be your foundation and not your life. A path of blood and brimstone. The path for which you followed me.

You will break me out, Syndicate,” The grin with growing victory behind it gre further still, “Because you will go the way where the most chaos will follow you.”

[itsclydebitches]

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first: 

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense. 

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go. 

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3 

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. 

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it. 

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit. 

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world. 

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.  

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [44]

xv. perverse instantiation, pt 1

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: injuries, violence, fighting, language, mentions of nausea, a hanging (canon), mentions of blood. 

Summary: your group heads back to Arkadia to regroup and plans are made to take down Alie, without the help of Luna.

a/n: THE SEASON THREE FINALE IS HERE OMG OMG OMG!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The collective agreement is to head back to Arkadia, where you can regroup, talk to your friends, and figure out what to do next.

You sleep for most of the ride, the drug that Luna’s clan gave you making you drowsy, but sometime in the afternoon, Bellamy wakes you up. “We have to charge the rover. You should get out and stretch your legs, and let Clarke check your shoulder.”

You nod and follow the others out into Azgeda territory, and you stop beside the rover to stretch your body and shake the heaviness from your bones. Jasper passes around some rations from his pack, and you happily accept the small bag of dried fruit that he offers you. Everyone eats and sits in silence, the failure of Luna’s rig leaving most of you grumpy. 

Clarke eventually comes over to you, her face blank, jaw clenched, and you know she’s still upset, more so than everyone else. But she puts aside her anger and asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

You pull off your jacket and tug down the neckline of your shirt so she can peek beneath the bandage. “It’s fine. No pain.”

You wince as she pokes the skin around the cauterized wound, and she gives you a look that says, “Really?”

You give her the same look in return. “I mean, yeah, it hurts when you poke it, but it’s not that bad.”

She gives a little satisfied sound as she rewraps it and helps you back into your jacket. She takes a peek at the wounds on your wrist, from the cuffs Emerson put you in, removing the bandages completely when she sees that the only thing left behind are bruises. Bellamy checks the rover and yells, “Rover's almost charged. We need to pack up, we'll be home soon.”

Clarke steps away from you slightly, her worry for you now replaced by her earlier frustration. “Then what? Run away?

“We're not running away, Clarke. We need to regroup with the others and find another way to defeat-”

She cuts him off, “There is no other way! We need to find a Nightblood. We need to unlock the Flame. It's the only way to stop Alie.”

Jasper looks up from his perch on the hood of the rover and snorts. “What do you expect us to do, Clarke? Walk into random villages asking for their Nightbloods?”

“If that's what it takes.”

You give her a sharp look, and start, “Clarke-”

But Octavia cuts you off. “No, Clarke. If Alie can find us on Luna's rig, then she can find us anywhere. I won't help you destroy another innocent Grounder village.”

“If we don't find a Nightblood, there won't be any Grounder villages. Or a home for us to go back to.”

Bellamy glares at her, “That's all the more reason we go there and make sure our friends are okay.”

She looks at Bellamy, and then Octavia, then Jasper, seeing their disagreement with her. Then she turns to you, eyes almost pleading, but you shake your head, keeping the united front. She nods once, looking betrayed, before pushing past you and walking into the woods. You turn and look after her, watching as she disappears into the trees. You look at Bellamy and sigh, “She'll be fine. Just let her cool off.”

You turn and start helping the others pack up the rover, moving quickly and silently. As you’re lifting one of the bags of guns, you hear a grunt and you freeze, turning towards the woods, searching for the source of the sound. You see nothing, but the hairs on your neck are lifted, and you grab a gun and take off towards the forest. Bellamy calls your name, confused, but you ignore him and slip into the trees quietly. You pick your way through the woods, ears perking up at the sound of talking nearby. As you move that way, the voices grow loud enough for you to make out their conversation. “I need to find a Nightblood to put that in.”

“I already have a Nightblood to put it in.”

You step around a fallen log, glancing towards the man walking away from Clarke, immediately recognizing him as the guy that stabbed you in the leg when you found Clarke.  

“Roan, please just stop!”

“Because of you, Ontari never ascended. So, no, I won't stop. Not until the Ice Nation has its Commander.”

You see them coming towards you, and you step around the tree, gun raised, head cocked to the side. “You were saying?”

Roan lifts his hands in surrender, and you glance at Clarke. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

You nod towards the rover, “Let's go.”

“He's coming with us.”

You give her a crazy look, and a voice behind you exclaims, “Like hell he is.”

You turn and see Bellamy walking your way, gun pointed at Roan, the latter turning to Clarke in disbelief. “Why would I do that?”

“Because we both want the same thing, to put the Flame in Ontari.”

Bellamy protests, “How do you know he's not chipped?”

“If he were, do you think he would've saved me?”

Bellamy muses, “Still, we need to be sure.”

You turn and look at Bellamy, and he nods towards Roan. Catching onto his line of thinking, you turn back to the man, aim for his shoulder, and pull the trigger. He lets out a cry of pain, and Bellamy steps forwards and hits him with his gun, knocking him out. The two of you share a look, teamwork coming through, and you shrug, “Now we're sure.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at both of you. “Great, but now you both get to carry him.”

She turns and walks back towards the rover before either of you can protest, and you look down at Roan, groaning. You grab his feet and Bellamy grabs his arms, and the two of you half walk, half shuffle back to the rover, the King’s body in between you. When you reach the rover, Jasper and Octavia seem unsurprised to see the man between you, and they help you pull him into the back.

Clarke binds and gags him and bandages his arm before giving Bellamy the go ahead, and you all jump into the rover and continue back to Arkadia. Roan wakes up along the way but gives no trouble, just sits silently between Octavia and Clarke, eyeing everyone. You reach Arkadia well after dark, and you radio ahead for Miller to get the hangar doors open so Bellamy can drive the rover right in. As soon as the rover is parked inside, your friends all materialize out of the surroundings, heading straight for the vehicle. You and Bellamy head to the back to escort Roan out, and the others gather around the exiting crowd.

“We were getting worried. Where's Luna?”

Octavia barely glances at Raven. “Luna said no.”

You and Bellamy help Roan from the back, leading him around the side of the rover, into the view of all the others. Everyone’s eyes fall onto him, and Raven is the first to voice their collective question. “Who the hell is this?”

Bryan practically spits with disgust, “He's Ice Nation.”

“King of the Ice Nation actually.” Clarke looks between the others, and adds, “And he's our way into Polis.”

Bellamy nods towards the door, voice dripping with sarcasm, “This way, Your Highness.”

You turn and look at Miller and Bryan. “You two, follow us. We'll take him to lockup.”

They nod and fall into step behind you as Bellamy leads you through the halls and towards lockup. You shudder as you step inside, remembering the last time you were in here, minutes away from your execution. You glance at Bellamy and see that he’s tense, his mind thinking the same thing. You reach out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he gives you a tight smile before opening the door and pushing Roan inside. He closes it behind him, and turns to the dating guards. “Keep an eye on him, we’ll be back to talk to him soon.”

They nod and each of them take up a post on either side of the captive king, as Bellamy nods at your shoulder. “Let’s get you some proper first aid while we’re here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m fine.”

He gives you a serious look, one of the no nonsense ones that lets you know this is not up for debate, so you sigh, and let him lead you over to medbay. You’re unable to hide your look of surprise as you step inside the room, everything in chaos, a sign that Alie really has taken your mother over. You glance around at the mess, the tools scattered along the floor, a chair with restraints still attached to it sitting in the middle of the room, beside two pools of dried blood. You think of Raven and her wrists, used by Alie, and shudder. “She really is capable of anything.”

Bellamy turns to look at you, his eyes following yours to the blood, before he reaches out and pulls you away from it wordlessly. He leads you to one of the other beds and motions for you to sit while he turns to grab a few supplies. You shrug out of your jacket as he returns with a medkit, and he spreads out the contents of the bag beside you. He pauses, his eyes landing on your still clothed shoulder.

“Is it okay if I?” He reaches up, hands hovering near the neckline of your shirt, the rest of the question a silent one. 

You nod and smile. “Of course.”

He pulls your shirt down just enough to reach the bandage, which he unwraps slowly, careful not to move or jostle you too much. You can’t help but smile at his gentle nature. He cleans the burn just as gently, and when his head is bent out of view, busy cleaning the wound on your back, he mutters, “You said something yesterday that I’ve been wondering about.”

“Yeah?”

“You told me that you need me to love you. But I do, and I thought I showed you that.”

You soften at the anxious tone of his voice. “I know you do, Bellamy, and normally you do show me. But your guilt has gotten into your head. You keep pulling away from me and stepping back from my affection because you think you don’t deserve it.”

He lifts his head in surprise, “How did you know that?”

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Not at him, but at the idea that he thinks you don't know him as well as you do, and you say as much. “Because I know you, Bellamy. When we went to that bunker looking for supplies, you tried to run because you thought you were a monster that kept ruining Octavia’s life. You have this idea of yourself in your head that’s not true.”

You lift your hand to caress his cheek, “I just wish you’d see the Bellamy that I see. The leader that rules with his heart and would do anything to protect those that he loves, especially his sister. The guy that snuck into Mount Weather with the world’s worst plan just to save his people. The very same guy that pulled the lever to save them after we were left with no other choice. You’ve prepared us for war against the Grounders when there was no one here to protect us. You sacrificed yourself to save me and Jasper when Murphy locked us up. You’ve gone all over the place to help me find and save my twin. You’ve saved my life, and our people’s lives, more times that I can count. And I’ll say it as many times as I need to, but you are not a monster. You made a mistake, and bad things came of it, but that does not make you a bad person. The Universe has dealt you a cruel hand, Bellamy, and sometimes it’s hard to play the cards right.”

He gives you a loving look before he leans forward, pulling you into a kiss. The gesture surprises you at first, his recent intimacy only happening during times of extreme stress or near death, but you welcome the surprise with a happy sigh. He pulls away after a moment, both of you instantly trying to catch your breath, dizzy from lack of oxygen and happiness, and he smiles at you. It’s one of those dazzling, one of a kind, enjoy it while you can smiles, and it warms your body from the top of your head down to your toes. He whispers, “I love you.”

And something about the way he says it is enough to let you know that things are going to get better. He may not be 100%, and he may always struggle with his guilt, but he’s healing and he’s coming back to you, tired of being lost. You smile back at him, trying to match his energy and whisper, “I love you more than the stars.”

-

Clarke comes to find you and Bellamy a few minutes after your soft moment, and she leads you both from the medbay straight back to lockup to talk to Roan, who has managed to get out of his restraints and take off his gag. The first thing Clarke does after stepping inside is turn to you with an expectant look, her eyes flashing back to glance at Roan’s bandages. You know what she’s waiting for so you sigh and look at the king. “Sorry about your arm.”

He gestures to your now healed leg. “Makes us even.”

With your apology out of the way, Clarke launches into leadership mode. “Like it or not, we need each other.”

“Cut to the chase, Clarke. You said we wanted the same thing. I want an Ice Nation Commander.”

“And I can give you one,” She lifts up the box with the Flame. “With this.”

“And why would you do that, when you know she's vowed to wipe you out?”

“We don't have a choice. This isn't just our war. The enemy we're up against is after everyone, including the Ice Nation. The only way to stop her is to get the information off the Flame. And the only way to do that is to put it in Ontari's head.”

Roan sneers, “The Ice Nation isn't afraid.”

You step closer to him, sneering back. “You should be. Alie doesn't care what clan you're from. She controls people, and she'll take over the Ice Nation, just like she took over our people.”

Clarke adds, “It already has Ontari.”

“I'm listening.”

“We need to disconnect her before she gets the Flame, or we'll be giving Alie exactly what she wants. To do that, we have to abduct her from the center of a city filled with thousands of people, whose minds are linked. All of them thinking as one. Whatever one sees, they all see. Whatever one hears, they all hear.”

Roan nods, “I get it. So when do we leave?”

-

With Roan’s agreement and the plan in place, everyone is on the move again. 

Most of you are in the hanger bay, loading up the rover with nearly everything from the armory, preparing for a war. The energy in the room is tense and charged, everyone realizing that some of you might not make it back from Polis, or that things can go terribly wrong and you never save your people. Despite that worry, everyone does the task that Bellamy delegated to them, working together quickly to get the rover ready to go. 

You bring the last bag from the armory over to Miller to load up, and he checks the contents inside, pulling out the small metal canisters. Bellamy looks over at him, eyeing the canister in his hand. Miller nods and shoves it back in the bag, explaining, “Knockout gas. Mount Weather's finest. As soon as they bring Ontari out, we put them to sleep.”

Bellamy claps him on the shoulder and turns to look at you. You mutter, “At least something good came out of Mount Weather.”

He smirks in agreement as Raven walks over to the two of you, handing you a device. “Because she's chipped, you'll have to EMP her like you did me, before you give her the Flame.”

You shake your head in confusion, looking down at the device. “I thought that Jaha destroyed all the wristbands.”

She smirks at you, “So did he, then I came home. There's only enough usable parts to rebuild one, so use it wisely. Made a few improvements, too.”

You turn and put the device in one of the backpacks, tucking a few med kits around it to cushion it and keep it safe. Then you put the backpack in the middle of the other bags, pinning it to the wall to keep it from sliding around in the back. With the last bag packed, you turn back to the others. Everyone watches each other quietly, no one wanting to possibly say goodbye for the last time. Octavia steps into the room with Roan at her side, and is oblivious to the tension,or just doesn’t care, because she looks around at all of you in confusion. “What are we waiting for?”

They walk towards the rover as the rest of you hug the others, whispering a quiet assortment of “may we meet agains”, “goodbyes”, and “good lucks”. Jasper is the last one to hug you, and as he does he whispers, “Sure you don't want to stay here? They could use the protection.”

You pull away, and let out a short laugh. “If I stay here, who will protect Bellamy and Clarke?”

He laughs too, nodding, “That’s true. Be safe.”

“You too.”

You turn and head to the rover, pulling yourself into the passenger seat beside Bellamy. You look around at the small group in the back, Octavia, Clarke, Miller, Bryan, and Roan, before glancing at those you’re leaving behind: Monty, Jasper, Harper, and Raven. And then you turn back to Bellamy, give him a smile, and nod. “Let’s go save our people.”

-

The ride to the city limits of Polis is short, and you spend much of it looking out at the window at the stars and moon, knowing that once the rover stops, you’ll spend the rest of the journey in the tunnel system. Before you know it, Clarke is leaning forward, between you and Bellamy, pointing to a small clearing. “There it is. Stop here.”

Bellamy parks the rover between a dense spot of bushes and trees, trying to keep it from view, but he leaves the lights on as you all grab the gear. Clarke bails out of the back and jogs towards a break in the trees and you run out after her, following her gaze to a tall tower in the distance, with smoke billowing out of the top. You eye it in disbelief, your first view of the Grounder capital, and you mutter, “Wow.”

Clarke turns to you, smiling. “Wait until you see the rest of it. I never imagined we’d come to the ground and find a place like this. Dad’s stories never prepared us for it.”

Bellamy and Roan walk up behind the two of you, and you both turn to face them. Roan glances back at the tower in the distance, before looking at Clarke with a nod. “Alright, this is where we split up. The entrance to the tunnel is right over there.”

Bellamy gives him an annoyed look, “We know where it is.”

You cut him a look, telling him to be nice, and he shrugs in response. Roan is unbothered by Bellamy’s attitude though, and he just watches Clarke. “I'm gonna need the Flame. Look, this only works if they send Ontari out to get it. If they don't see it, they won't do that. Not much of a trap without the bait.”

She glances at you, and you can see her hesitation, so you reach your hand out for hers and nod, letting her know that it’s the right thing to do. She takes in a shaky breath, steeling herself for her departure from Lexa, her short lived love. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out the container, holding it out to him. “Fine.”

When his hand closes around the other end, she doesn't let go. His eyes lock with hers, confused, and she adds, “But I'm coming with you.”

You and Bellamy immediately protest, but yours is louder, “Clarke, no way! That wasn't the plan.”

She lets go of the Flame, and turns to look at the two of you. “It is now. I'm not letting that out of my sight, and I'm the only one who knows the passphrase. So you can tell them that without me, Ontari can't ascend.”

Roan nods in agreement. “You'll need to look like my prisoner.”

“Okay.”

You turn to her, a look of bewilderment on your face. “Wait a second.”

Bellamy glances at Roan, as he reaches out for you and Clarke, pulling you both to the side. “Give us a minute.”

Roan steps away, giving the three of you some space, before Bellamy gives Clarke the same bewildered look that you’re giving her. “Come on, Clarke. You're really willing to trust that guy with your life?”

“No.” Her response is immediate, matter of fact. Then she shrugs. “But both of you will be covering us the entire time. And I trust you.”

She turns to you, her eyes pleading with you to understand. And because she's your sister, your twin, you do. As much as you hate the plan, the separation from each other, the distance between you that’ll make it harder to save her if things go wrong, you understand, and you agree. “Fine.”

When you relent, Bellamy relents, sighing as he looks between the two of you. “The second I don’t like something or things seem wrong, we bail out.”

She gives him a reassuring smile, “Of course.”

She turns away and heads to the rover, and you follow. She passes her weapons to you, leaving herself defenseless. You reach into your backpack and pull some of the cloth strips from a medkit, handing them to her. “For your gag and restraints.”

“Thanks.”

You strap a thigh holster on your leg that doesn't hold your knife and slide Clarke’s pistol into the holster. Then you grab the backpack with the EMP and a rifle and pull them both on, pausing to make sure you’re locked and loaded. Once you’re ready, you turn and look at the others, who are all waiting, ready to go. Clarke pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, “May we meet again, la lune.”

“May we meet again, shining star.” When she releases you, you give her a smile that you hope is reassuring. “Don't worry, we’ll have your back.”

“You always do.”

You start to follow the others in the direction of the tunnels, but you pause in front of Roan, giving him a serious look. “If anything happens to Clarke, I will burn Azgeda to the ground.”

He gives you a surprised look, and you can tell that he knows you mean it. “I’ll keep her safe.”

You nod and then jog after the others, trying to catch up. Bellamy is waiting at the entrance of the tunnels for you, and he gestures to the entrance when you reach him. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

As soon as you step into the tunnels, a chill runs through you, and you’re not sure if it’s from the chill of the space, or the impending sense of doom. Bellamy hands you a flashlight and you follow him through the darkness as he takes the lead and guides your group through the passageways. 

It takes the rest of the night and into the next morning to reach your vantage point, though you can't tell until you’re in position and see the light streaming through the small windows. Bellamy stops in front of them and turns to the rest of you, “Alright, this is it. Get those grates open.”

You all quickly unscrew the grates to give you better access to the outside world, quietly setting them aside. You peer out the window in front of you, looking for any sign of Clarke, but finding none. In fact, there is no sign of anyone. When Clarke described Polis to you in the past, she always said that it was busy, full of people. But now, it lays barren in front of you, eerily quiet. Bellamy pulls you out of your thoughts as he says, “Let's get ready.”

You pull your backpack off and set it in a secure corner, away from any danger, and you check your gun to make sure it’s loaded. You also grab a few additional magazines, ready for any type of trouble. You and Bellamy both step into position beside each other, resting your guns on the ledge of the window, sliding them out into the open. As you both stand there, peering out into the streets, you overhear Bryan and Miller talking behind you. Bryan’s voice is soft and concerned as he asks, “Are we ever gonna be done fighting?”

“Hell yes. We're gonna build a house on a lake. You're gonna plant corn.”

Bryan adds, “And raise chickens.”

“Yeah. And grow old.”

You and Bellamy exchange a look, and you know he wants the same thing for the both of you. You reach out and give his hand a quick squeeze, letting him know you’re with him, before you turn back to the window. You let out a surprised sound at the sight of Clarke in front of you, bound and gagged, held in place beside Roan. “Hey, 11 o’clock!”

The others get into position at their respective windows, and Octavia comes to stand on your other side. She passes you a gas canister, which you set on the ledge beside you, within reach. You nod at her in thanks as Bellamy reminds you, “Roan will signal when he sees Ontari. We wait until she's standing in front of them and then we launch the gas.”

Bryan tosses Miller a gas mask, which he passes down the line, until it ends up with Bellamy. More gas masks follow until you all have one. “They're gonna be holding their breath, so we’ve gotta move fast.”

As you peer out the window again, you see that a few people are outside now, kneeling in a small patch of land nearby. Their eyes are all closed and they’re sitting so still, you start to wonder if any of them are even alive. Bellamy glances over at them, and then down the line at the rest of you. “Anyone who gets in our way, we use non-lethal force. These people are not the enemy, they're being controlled. The only thing we're here to kill is Alie. Is that clear?”

There’s a chorus of “clears” whispered, indicating that you all understand. Bellamy nods to you, giving you the signal, and you peer through your scope, looking for Clarke again. When you see her, you click the light on your rifle, on and off, signaling to her. You can tell she sees it because she tugs on her restraints enough to get Roan’s attention, and when he looks her way, she gives him a barely perceptible nod. You turn off your light and whisper, “Here we go.”

You watch as Roan pulls the Flame from his pocket and holds it up. He starts to yell, but from your place in the tunnels, it’s hard to make out. “I am Roan, King of Azgeda, and I have what the Commander seeks.”

All around him, the people that were kneeling start to stand and turn towards them. Guess they’re not dead. Roan adds, “I don't like what I'm sensing. So, if she wants it, she can come to me!”

You all watch with bated breath, waiting to see what’s going to happen. And much to your surprise, Jaha emerges from the shadows. You whisper, “It's Jaha!”

Octavia shifts beside you, trying to peer out the window. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Miller glances your way, “You see Ontari?”

“No. Hold.”

You can see Roan and Jaha talking to each other, but since neither of them are yelling like Roan was moments ago, it’s impossible to make out what they’re saying. All you can do is read their body language, and you can tell that both Roan and Clarke are on edge, distrustful of the situation. Bellamy mutters, “Something's wrong.”

Something that Jaha says puts Clarke further on edge, and she turns to you with a look of alarm. Something about the look she gives you, and the uneasy feeling about the whole situation tugs at a memory from Arkadia. You whisper, “They could use the protection.”

Bellamy turns to you, confused. “What?”

“When Jasper hugged me, he asked if I was sure I didn't want to stay behind because ‘they could use the protection’. He said they, not we.”

Octavia takes in a sharp breath, and then looks your way. “Jasper was in the room with Luna and the others, but they barely touched him. He said they tried and he didn't break, but-”

You turn to Bellamy in alarm, “It’s a trap!”

Bellamy turns to Miller and Bryan, yelling, “Do it. Do it now!”

Bryan turns to the window, and just as he is going to send in the gas canisters, he is yanked backwards. Someone yells, “On your knees! Drop your weapon!”

The rest of you are grabbed from behind, and you instantly fight back. Your gun is pulled from your grip, but you swing your elbow back and make contact with the man reaching for you. He doubles over, a natural instinct,  and you hear someone yell, “Blake, against the wall. Turn around!”

When the man reaches for you again, you pull out your knife and plunge it into his shoulder, using the non lethal force that Bellamy reminded you of. The man doesn't react, because there’s no pain in the City of Light. Still, you pull the knife back out and turn to run when someone yells, “Griffin! Drop it, or he dies!”

You freeze in place, and turn slowly, coming face to face with a guard who has Bellamy in his arms and a gun pressed to his temple. You instantly drop your knife, the fight now gone from you, and two men grab you harshly from behind and shove you up against the walls, restraining you. You hear a gunshot outside, and your blood runs cold, thinking of Clarke. You turn and try to look at Bellamy, panicking, but the guards at your back have such a tight grip on you, you can't move. 

Once they have you tied up, they pull you away from the wall and half lead, half drag you out of the little alcove and into the main hallway of the tunnel. Each of you are forced to your knees in rows. Octavia and Bryan in the front, then Miller and Bellamy, and you alone in the back. The guards surround you on all sides, armed, and you watch them closely, trying to form an escape. As you do, one of Pike’s men looks you all over. “Who’s gonna talk to us first?”

Everyone of you is silent and unmoving, not wanting to be the first one chosen. The guard takes his time teasing which one of you he’s going to pick, until finally, he settles on Miller. They pull him to his feet, and Bryan starts to protest, “Leave him alone!”

The guard nearest to Bryan uses his gun to hit Bryan across the face, effectively silencing him. The rest of you freeze in shock, and Miller turns to his boyfriend the best he can. “Don't say anything. No matter what.”

Bryan weakly nods and Miller is forced to his knees again. The guard smiles and tilts his head to the side. “We mostly have everything we need, except Jasper is struggling a little with the others.” 

You see Bellamy freeze in front of you, confirming your earlier suspicions. You berate yourself for not catching it earlier. The guard continues, “So, how are you planning to access code that’s no longer on Earth?” 

Miller says nothing, partially because Raven never told any of you her plan, but partially because he’s not one to give up secrets to the enemy. His silence is met with a slap across the face, the sound echoing through the small cave, and you see Bryan struggling to keep himself cool. It’s enough to make you decide to take one for the team. “Hey, do you do everything that Alie tells you to do? What if she told you to walk off the top of the tower, would you do it?”

The man glares at you, and then nods to the guard at your back. He leans down and whispers, “Alie says you took an arrow to the shoulder.”

You stiffen a little, knowing where this is going. “Could it be right…” He presses a finger into each wound, pushing against the healing skin, and you let out a scream of pain. “Here?”

Bellamy turns towards you, upset, and the man releases you. You glance at the other guard, standing too close to Miller, and decide to push them harder. Before you do, you glance at Bellamy and mouth, “Don’t.”

He gives a sharp shake of his head, repeating the word back to you. “We’re gonna wipe the code on your precious computer program, and delete her from existence. What are you gonna do then? Without Pike or Alie, who will you follow?”

The guard puts a boot on Miller’s chest and pushes him backwards before stalking over to you, angry. The guard at your back grabs your shoulder, holding you in place, so the other guard can punch you in the stomach. You feel the breath leave your body in a rush, and you fight back the nausea rolling through you. You gasp out, “That the best you got?”

You rear your head back and collide with the man at your back, your skull making contact with his nose. He doesn't react, other than stumbling back from the force of the hit, and the other guard swings a kick at you with so much force, it knocks you flat on your back. You cough against the force that was pushed against your chest, struggling to catch your breath, as the guard descends on you to continue his assault. He pulls his leg back to kick you again, but he freezes in place, his gaze lifting off into the distance. And then he looks out to the others. “Let's go. She wants the twin.”

Two guards pull you to your feet, and you start to fight against them. Both Blake siblings stand, yelling, “Where are you taking her?”

“Stop! Leave her alone!”

They are both met with a rifle hit to the gut, and you turn to look at them the best you can, reassuring them. “Hey, I’m gonna be okay, just find a way out of here!” 

They only take you a few steps down the hallway when a voice yells from the darkness, “You know, if I were you, I'd hit the deck.”

Your head tilts to the side, recognizing the voice instantly. The guards at your side lift their flashlights, lighting up the man you suspected you heard. “Murphy.”

And then your brain processes his words, and you yell to the others, “Everyone hit the ground!”

You pull yourself out of your guards grip, clumsily, hitting your shoulder on the ground when you land, and you let out a groan. One that is muffled by the eruption of gunfire echoing in the space. When it stops, you look up in surprise, as Murphy moves closer to you and pulls you to your feet. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’ve never been this happy to see a cockroach before.” He gives you a mock offended look, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Murphy.”

He nods, looking uncomfortable, before stepping away to go help the others. Suddenly, the help he has materializes out of the darkness. Your eyes land on Indra first, who yells, “More will come, we have to hurry.”

And then they land on the one person you never expected to see again. Pike. He walks towards you, pulling out his knife, and you scramble backwards, putting space between you. He lifts his hands in surrender as Bellamy appears at your side, allowing Pike to cut off his restraints. He takes the knife from the man and frees your hands, all the while, your glare never leaves Pike. He looks between you and asks, “You okay?”

You balk, “Oh, now you care?”

Bellamy puts a comforting hand on your arm, and whispers, “Hey, it’s okay.”

You turn to him, incredulous. “No, it’s not. We may be fighting a different enemy, but don't you think for a second that I’ve forgotten what he’s done. All that guilt that you've been carrying for everything you've done the last few weeks? That’s because of him. That’s the same man that locked me up and was minutes away from killing me before the others saved us.”

Octavia materializes at your side, just as angry to see Pike still alive. Indra seems to sense the impending fight, because she moves over to her former second. “The only way we get out of here is together.”

Octavia turns her glare from Pike to Indra. “He killed Lincoln. Put him on his knees. Shot him in the head.”

The news seems to be new to Indra, because she looks over at Pike in shock. Bellamy can tell this is a losing battle, and attempts to stifle the fire of anger that’s starting to rise. “Indra's right, we need every fighter we can get.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Murphy cuts you off. “You guys missed the part where it's time to go?”

The words distract you from Pike long enough to turn towards Murphy and shake your head. “We're not leaving.”

“We just saved your lives. Why do I think I'm gonna regret that?”

Bellamy glances at you, then back to Murphy. “Clarke’s in trouble.”

“Clarke's always in trouble.

You lean down and pull the gun off of the man at your feet, and then stand to tell them, “They took her and the Flame to the tower. It's a safe bet Ontari's there, too. Everything we need to stop Alie is in the same place.”

Octavia remembers the mission, and gives you a serious look. “If we go up that tower, we won't be able to fight our way out again.”

Bellamy glances at her, “If we stop Alie, we won't have to.”

Murphy turns to look at Pike, who nods his agreement, and he sighs, “Up the tower, great. You know, after this, doing the right thing can kiss my ass.”

Bellamy turns and starts to run off, back where you were earlier, and you start to follow, until you see Miller, leaning against Bryan, bleeding from his nose. You stop in front of him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He eyes the blood dotting the shirt around your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

You wave him off, “It’s nothing.”

You turn and follow the path Bellamy took, stopping in the alcove to grab the backpack with the EMP and your abandoned knife. You pull the pack on and slide the knife in place, before catching up with the others. When you reach them, Bellamy is reminding everyone of the non-lethal force rule, waiting for you to catch up. Once he locks eyes with you, he starts to move again, and you run through the tunnels quietly for a few minutes, the sound of creaking gradually growing louder. Bellamy stops at a corner and puts an arm out to stop the rest of you. You peer around the corner with him, spotting two Grounder guards at the end of the hall, standing next to a large wheel that controls the elevator. 

Bellamy gives the signal and you all start to sneak down the hall towards the guards, spread out in two lines, so they can't escape you. As you start to get close, the guards still oblivious to your presence, two shots ring out and the guards hit the ground, grunting as they do. You spin around and see Pike, his gun still lifted, and Bellamy yells, “Hey! I told you, that is not how we're doing this.”

“They were in our way.”

You give him an incredulous look. “These people are not our enemy. They're being controlled by Alie and we can save them.”

Miller glances down the halls, on edge. “There's gonna be a lot more of these people if we don't move. Let's do this.”

Indra looks over at the wheel. “I'll bring it down.”

Bellamy turns to look at the others, explaining the plan. “Once we're up, you blow the elevator and then climb. Destroy the ladder behind us.”

“On it.”

You, Bellamy, Octavia, and Murphy head towards the elevator, waiting for it to come down. As it does, Murphy eyes the closed doors. “You do realize we don't have a way down, right?”

Indra glances at him, unconcerned. “A problem for another day.” 

“Let's go, our ride's here.” You, Bellamy, and Murphy step inside, but Octavia stands outside of it, looking in on all of you. Bellamy turns to look at her. “Coming, O?”

“If anything goes wrong down here, they'll need my help. We got this.” 

You see her subtle glance at Pike, and you know that she doesn't want to let him out of her sight. You reach out and pull her into a hug, whispering in her ear so softly that no one else can hear, “The second he stops being useful, kill him.”

She gives you a small nod and you step away, back into the elevator, watching as Octavia slides the doors closed. A second later the elevator lurches, rising slowly, and you all stand in a line, silent, until Murphy asks, “You both get that we're screwed, right? Alie already knows that we're coming.”

“This plan will work.” You can't tell if Bellamy is trying to convince Murphy, or himself. Then a thought hits him, and Bellamy turns to look at Murphy. “Why are you here?”

“I'm just trying to survive.” When Bellamy gives him an unconvinced look, Murphy glances over at you, and then back to your boyfriend. “You're not the only one here doing something for someone you care about.”

Bellamy looks over at you, and you suddenly feel the weight of his survival on your head. The only reason he's here is because of you, which means anything that happens to him while he is here is because of you too. You feel the weight of the curse on you again, reminded of Raven’s words: Azazel, bringing destruction and corruption with your curse. 

 You don't get time to dwell on it further, because the elevator lurches and then suddenly stops. You all exchange a worried look, and Murphy mutters, “Well, that's not good.”

The elevator is only stopped for a couple of seconds before you all start to hear banging from the other side. “They're coming in.”

You and Bellamy run to the doors, and you try to hold them closed, but the Grounders on the other side are stronger and have a better grip, and they start to pry the door open. Bellamy turns to Murphy and yells, “Murphy, get that baton ready.”

You hear the shock baton crackle to life and the doors open wider. You yell, “Shock him, Murphy!”

Murphy squeezes in between you and shocks the first Grounder and he falls away. The second Grounder squeezes inside and grabs you, instantly dragging you towards the door. You scream, “Bellamy!”

You’re halfway inside the elevator and halfway out when Murphy hits him when the shock baton and the man drops you. Bellamy pulls you backwards, back inside the elevator, before rushing back to the doors and kicking the first Grounder away. Him and Murphy struggle to close the doors and they have it mostly closed when they force their way back in again. Murphy and Bellamy fight them off again, and as the doors start to close, a third man appears and dives through the crack in the door, just as the elevator starts to move again. 

The man lands on Murphy and starts to choke him, and you dive towards him, knocking him away. He turns and starts to punch you in the face until he’s pulled off of you by Bellamy. The man starts fighting with Bellamy, and as soon as he gets the upper hand, Murphy jumps in. This continues for a few seconds, each of you taking over and passing the man around until he grows tired of it and turns and delivers a strong kick to Murphy’s chest, sending him flying towards the opposite wall. Then he turns and pulls the shock baton from Bellamy’s grip and shocks him, and you dive at him again, knocking him away. 

The man turns to you and his hand instantly finds your neck and he squeezes and lifts you easily, pinning you against the wall and holding you in place. Your feet kick frantically, trying to find something to stand on, choking as the man holds you still. You glance at Bellamy, but he’s still doubled over, hazy from the shock, and you look away, trying to focus all of your energy on staying alive. You hear Murphy yell, “Bellamy, shoot him! He’s killing her, shoot him!”

Your eyes close, the spots dancing along your vision, and you try to focus on the last bit of oxygen left in your body. Just when you think you can take it anymore, a shot rings out and you fall to the ground, landing on all fours. You take in a desperate breath of air, gasping, and you feel Bellamy put a hand on your shoulder as he kneels beside you. “Are you okay?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, before you look at him, and see the sadness in his eyes. You know how badly he wanted to keep things non-lethal, and you reach up and put a hand over his own, comforting him. “Thank you.”

He nods, and helps you to your feet, and you glance at the door, uneasy. “Bellamy, they’re gonna storm in here as soon as we reach the top. We’ll never make it to the throne room.”

You all glance around, trying to figure out how you can make it out, when Bellamy looks up at the ceiling and lets out an excited sound. You look up and feel a rush of relief at the small vent in the ceiling, and he turns to Murphy. “Help me.”

Bellamy gives Murphy a knee to stand on and Murphy pushes the panel out of the way, and peeks up into the ceiling. “There’s room for all of us!”

He pulls himself up and leans down for your hand. You step onto Bellamy’s knee and take his hand, before grabbing onto the top with your other hand. You groan in pain when your weight pulls on your shoulder, but you try to ignore it as you pull yourself up with Murphy’s help. You both slide back as Bellamy jumps, his hands grabbing at the edge, and he pulls himself up easily, sliding into place behind you. Murphy puts the vent cover back on, and Bellamy turns to you. “Turn around.”

You do as he says and he unzips your backpack, pulling out a can of Mount Weather’s finest gas. You smile back at him as he pulls out three gas masks, passing one to each of you. You each pull them on, ride the last little bit to the top, before the elevator lurches, signaling your arrival. You all wait, still and silent, with the gas can in Bellamy’s hand and the edge of the vent in Murphy’s. You listen as the doors are pried open, and someone steps inside, asking, “Where’d they go?”

Bellamy nods at Murphy, who pulls back the vent, and Bellamy pulls the tab on the can and drops it, red smoke quickly filling the space. You hear the man cough and hit the ground, and seconds later you hear the thud of a second man following suit. Murphy pulls the vent back the rest of the way, and he drops down into the elevator, followed by you and Bellamy. You hit the ground, weapon raised, ready to shoot, but everyone nearby is on the ground, knocked out from the gas. 

Murphy leads the way since he’s the most familiar with the layout, and you and Bellamy follow, your guns still up. “Throne room’s this way.”

You follow him down the hall, passing the knocked out bodies of the other guards, and when you reach the end of the hallway, in front of the throne room door, you pull your masks off and breathe in the clean air. This time, Bellamy leads the way, and he kicks the door open. Your eyes immediately fall on Clarke, who is chained to a pole, restrained, and she yells to Bellamy, “Bellamy, stop him!”

And as soon as Bellamy runs off, Clarke screams your name, and a single word. “Mom!”

You follow her gaze over to your right, where your mother is hanging from a noose, struggling for breath. “Oh my god.”

You run over to her, and you hear Murphy right behind you. A shot rings out behind you, but you ignore it, and as soon as you reach her, you grab her legs, pulling the tension of her weight off the noose. “Murphy, my knife!”

You shift towards him, so he can see the knife on your thigh, and he pulls it from the holster. He finds the box your mother used to stand on and puts it upright, climbing onto it quickly and cutting her down. As soon as she's cut free, she falls towards you, taking you both down, but you recover quickly and roll her over, loosening the noose. You press a finger to her neck, checking for her heartbeat, as Clarke frantically calls, “Is she alive? Is she breathing?”

You feel the slow, but steady thump of your mom’s heartbeat beneath your fingers, and you let out a sigh of relief, turning to look at your twin. “She’s okay.”

She sags with relief before directing Bellamy, “Jaha has the Flame. Get it.”

Bellamy mostly freed her from her restraints, and she finishes the job, running towards Ontari. “We can't let Ontari die. We have to stop the bleeding.”

She calls your name, and you look over your mother one last time, checking on her. Murphy mutters, “Go, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you.”

You run over to your twin, pulling one of the med kits from your bag as you do. You hand it to her as she touches Ontari’s neck. “Her pulse is weak.”

Bellamy mutters, “At least she's alive.”

Clarke hands you a bandage, “Here, hold this to the wound.”

You press the cloth to the wound on the back of her head, black blood soaking through it instantly. “Clarke, she’s losing a lot of blood.”

Clarke digs around in the medkit and pulls out a small flashlight, before prying open Onatri’s eyelid and shining the light in her eyes. “Her pupils are unresponsive.”

Bellamy looks at her in alarm, “What? What does that mean?”

“She's brain dead. She can't give us the kill code. It's over.”

You all sag in disbelief, leaning away from Ontari’s dead body. You drop the cloth, looking down at the dark blood as it runs over your hands and down your arms, a terrible realization coming over you. “We're trapped here.”

-

To be continued….

-

next chapter

[swanslieutenant]

a place in time - chapter xiii

Summary: Emma’s an agent working to reunite missing people with their families when the biggest missing persons case of all time appears in front of her in a flash of bright, white light. Thousands of missing people from throughout history, including one particular pirate, appear on the shore of a lake in the middle of winter: none have aged a day since their disappearance and, with no memory of their missing time, must venture into a strange and uncertain future. Loosely based on the TV show “the 4400.”

Rating and Warnings: Teen. For now.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12

Read on AO3

Note: *shows up nearly 2 years late with a Tim Hortons hot chocolate* - apologies for the length it took for me to get this updated. It has been a hard/chaotic two years for me and this fic is a hard one to write, but things are settling a bit, so I will try not to leave it for that long again. 

thanks to all the folks over at the @captainswanmoviemarathon discord channel for welcoming me in and helping me get this finished with the many many writing sprints it took!

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Neither Killian or Emma speak as they march back to her office, their steps quick and staccato against the polished floors. The world seems to be on a tilt, like Emma is walking through a funhouse with slanted floors, with the glass doors of the offices lining the hallway like the twisted and bendy mirrors of the carnival house, warping and distorting reality all around her. 

Emma supposes she should be used to this feeling by now. After all, her entire world has been on a tilt since that night down at the lake, with the sudden appearance of thousands of people.

But this time it feels different. Like her normal life, or what has been her new normal at this point, has been shattered once again. What she thought to be true, who she thought she could trust and rely on – broken, once again.

I know him from my time. 

When they reach her office, after unlocking the door, she gestures Killian ahead of her. He hasn’t said a word yet, and his face is solemn, the utter shock now an icy grit. His jaw is set, his eyes steel, the cold-hearted pirate that lurks beneath his charming veneer returned full force.

“This is his doing.” His voice is shaking with rage, the words more a growl than a sentence.

“This is crazy,” Emma says, swallowing the growing bile rising in her throat as she shuts the office door behind herself. She grips the side of her desk, her knuckles turning white, as she falls heavily into her desk chair. “How – are you sure that it’s the same guy?”

“Absolutely.”

He is still sanding by the door, hands curled into fists at his side, almost vibrating with fury. There is clearly some history here, and Emma remembers the vile that Gold spoke of Killian with when the returnees first arrived, how he had demanded for him to be locked up and kept away from the others.

“Who is he, Killian? How do you know him?”

“He’s a monster.” He spits the words, and then lifts his left hand, shaking his sleeve up his arm and rubbing at the scar that encircles his wrist, ragged and rough. “See this scar, Swan? He did it to me.”

She has wondered about the scar ever since she first saw it weeks ago, and now the shadow that had darkened his expression when she mentioned it then makes sense. She is truly sick now, her stomach twisting at the thought of her boss, the man she has sat across from in meetings and who controls this entire goddamn situation, literally attacking someone to the point of leaving such a horrific scar.

“He – dear god, Killian. That looks like he tried to cut your hand off!”

“It was no mere attempt,” Killian replies hollowly, eyes darkening. “He did cut it off.”

Emma blinks at him, and then stares at his hand, clearly attached to his arm. Now fair enough, she doesn’t know a lot about surgery or how re-attaching a limb would work, but Emma sure as hell knows there is no way Killian would have had his hand re-attached or be able to use it with 1700s medicine.

“He – what? I don’t understand. But your – your hand? How was it … fixed?”

“Magic.”

Emma’s heart stutters at the word. She leans back in her chair, stunned as if she’s been slapped.

“What?”

“A witch,” Killian continues, oblivious to Emma’s reaction, and he waves his right hand airily. “Or a fairy or some other manner of creature. I suppose I never actually asked her. My crew and I had come across her once before ever meeting Gold, and we retreated to her after his attack. She was a bit prickly, but she re-attached it for me after my crew begged her to. She had only a little magic left after running into trouble of her own, and she was no expert, hence the scar, but she did her best.”

Magic, witches, fairies. Her superpower remains silent, indicating Killian is telling the truth as he sees it, but Emma can’t believe it. Abruptly, Emma feels on the edge of tears. A hand re-attached by magic?

What?

Killian seems to finally notice her thunderstruck expression. “To you, Swan, magic is a myth. In my time, it was as common as your light switches. And clearly,” he adds, holding up his hand and flexing his fingers, “it worked.”

Seriously, what the hell is her life these days? Magic? Fine, she has no explanation for why Killian is standing in front of her, two and a half centuries after he should have died. But magic? No way. Aliens or scientific advancements in time travel make more sense than magic. But then she thinks of the video Anna had shown her of her sister controlling snowflakes as naturally as could be, and well, hell, magic at this point may make as much sense as anything else.

“I don’t understand,” Emma manages finally, wrenching her mind away from the literal concept of magic to the problem in front of her. Gold, Killian, time travel, his hand. “How – why did Gold cut your hand off?” 

“I stole something from him.”

… Of course he did.

Her mind starting to burst at the seams, she can only gape back at Killian as he explains his history with Gold, utterly lost for words. In Killian’s time, Gold had been a powerful landowner in England, who ventured to the New World after making a bad deal and losing his fortune. He didn’t know how long Gold had been in America before Killian heard of him, but he did know was already successful and rich in his new surroundings, a dangerous businessman who no one dared cross.

Except Killian.

“As you may remember, Swan, at that time I was a wanted man by the English Crown, having stolen and burned many of their ships. They had done their own damage to me, and it was my utmost desire at the time to ruin them in any other way I could. So, when I heard rumours of an enchanted object that Gold had brought over from England, the last of his previous fortune and a gift from the king and royal family themselves, naturally, I wanted it. Besides, my crew and I hadn’t had a good heist in months. It was a hard, cold winter, and the stormy weather had kept many ships trapped in European harbours, and my men were itching for some action.”

Even amidst her shock at this whole situation, Emma has to resist the urge to roll her eyes – pirates.

“My crew and I were moored in a town called Newport, near where his new estate was. We were restocking the Jolly Roger when I heard he’d left the town for business and would not be back for a fortnight, leaving his mansion unprotected.”

“So, you of course just waltzed in and stole it. What even was it?”

He flashes her a devious grin, a glimmer of his charming, mischievous self breaking through his dark demeanour. “I’m a hell of a pirate, love, even on land. It was only too easy to sneak into his manor. We took everything we could get our hands on, and then I found this object, the king’s gift.” Killian cups his hands, as if he was holding several apples in his palms. “It was roughly this size. I couldn’t tell you what it was called, for I’ve never come across anything like it before. I thought perhaps a music box or a small chest at first. It was circular, with the sides plated in pure gold leaf. The top of it was beautiful, no doubt painted by the finest artist to represent a dark indigo sky with white stars emblazoned upon it. I wondered if it was only the case for the true treasure within, but I could never get the damn thing to open. My crew and I tried everything we could think of – prying it, smashing it, hammering it. Nothing. It seemed empty inside, too, for when you’d knock on it, it was hollow. After all the efforts for seemingly nothing, I thought about simply selling it. But, then I heard Gold was desperate to have it returned, that he had ripped his manor apart looking for it, so I knew it was something valuable indeed.”

Emma is trying to picture the object Killian describes, and she has no idea what it could be either. Sounds to her like a little box, like something you’d find in an old antique or knick-knack store. “Okay, so what did you do with it then?”

“I buried it, somewhere safe where I knew Gold couldn’t find it.”

The entire tale is the most Killian has spoken about his past as a pirate since appearing in this time, and Emma supposes she shouldn’t be surprised it ends with a tale of buried treasure. Typical.

“Besides that,” Killian continues slowly, and he rubs one of his upper arms absently, as if recalling a past chill. “My crew didn’t like it. Once we realized we couldn’t do anything with it or allow Gold to have it again, we needed it off the ship as soon as we could.”

“Didn’t like it?” Emma echoes, her skin rippling with goosebumps. “What do you mean?”

Killian frowns, and he rubs at his chin thoughtfully. “I know you don’t believe in magic, Swan, but if you saw this, you would. Even though we couldn’t get it open, the damned thing seemed to suck the energy of the area around it. People were grumpier near it, more prone to anger, and more likely to need hours upon hours of sleep after being around it for a long time. As if it pulled their energy into itself and made them weaker, less honourable versions of themselves.”

He’s right, she doesn’t believe in magic. The thought of a strangle little box, gifted to her boss in the 1700s that caused hardened pirates to want it out of their sight, is something out of a movie. But … after all Emma has seen and all she’s heard, even just in the last few minutes, perhaps she better start believing.

“In any regard, we buried it and forgot about it for a few months until we returned one day to Newport. Gold knew my ship – hell, everyone knew my ship, then – and he was watching for it. He surprised us and thought to kill me and my crew, but realized rather quickly if we were all dead, he’d have no way to find out where the object was hidden. So instead … he thought to teach me a lesson.” He holds his left hand up again. “Hence, this.” 

Emma leans back into her desk chair, sinking into the old cushion and letting out a deep breath. She’s starting to get a tight, fluttery feeling in her chest she gets when she’s becoming overwhelmed, the feeling that usually spurs her to run, run as fast as she can.

But there’s no running from this. This, this twisted world with time travel and now apparently magic, is her reality.

Killian falls silent, finally taking a seat opposite her instead of standing, fuming, by the door. But Emma doesn’t know what to say back to him, so they sit in silence for several long minutes. After all, what do you say back to someone who is telling you about their adversarial meetings in the 1740s with your boss, who was the one to cut off his hand that was then re-attached with magic?

Emma has always been a logical person; she’s had to be. There was no room for whimsy or belief in the unknown during her childhood, not when she was burned too early by a world that only showed her its dark and cruel side. Her mind is so overwhelmed, she’s not even sure how to begin processing all this. If Killian wasn’t between her and the door, she may have started running. 

“So, you buried this object,” she begins, forcing herself to focus on the tangible parts of Killian’s story, though it’s not enough to not notice the irony of discussing ancient buried treasure with a pirate. “Probably in a place built over by a parking lot, or so deep underground that its lost to history, or found by a random person and sitting on someone’s grandma’s shelf –”

“That seems unlikely,” Killian muses. “I would hazard a guess it has never been found. After all, that must be why I’m here, in your time. He’s after the object again. He couldn’t get it from me then, and for whatever reason, he’s brought me here to find it.”

Emma has come to the same conclusion herself now, but she shakes her head in dismay. “I just don’t understand. If he wants this thing back so bad, why not get it from you back then, not invent time travel and wait nearly three hundred years for it?”

He shrugs, but his eyes flash. “Only the devil himself knows what madness lurks in that monster’s mind.”

Emma sighs and rubs at her eyes. If ridiculous was a line crossed back when Killian first said he knew Gold from his time, this situation is so far gone, Emma’s not even sure what to make of it anymore.

“So where is it buried? The object?”

Killian doesn’t answer, idly tracing the scar around his wrist. She watches him, wondering if he’s simply trying to remember, but when the silence stretches on, she realizes he has no intention of answering her, and for whatever reason, that hurts.

“Killian … you know you can trust me.” 

“I do trust you, Swan,” he says, and his voice softens as he meets her eyes. “It’s Gold I don’t. This object, whatever its value to him, has been safe for nearly three centuries. Its secret is safest with just one person.” He pauses briefly. “For now.”

Though still stung, Emma nods. “Okay. For now.” She lets out a deep breath, and runs a hand through her hair, combing out the tangles. “Well, if this object is really what Gold is after and you’re the only person alive who knows where it is, it makes sense why Gold wanted you arrested at first.”

“He what?” Killian’s voice is sharp, his eyes flashing with anger again, and Emma winces. She supposes she hadn’t told Killian that part yet.

As his expression darkens, Emma explains how Gold had first wanted Killian detained more formally than all the other returnees due to his reaction down at the lake where he first fought and argued with the Storybrooke agents, along with his past as a pirate and wanted criminal. How, now that she knows this history, it was most likely just a ruse for Gold to be able to keep a closer eye on Killian than the others.

“That slimy bastard.”

Silently, Emma agrees. She doesn’t know what Gold is planning, but she already knows whatever it is, it isn’t good. At her last meeting with him, when he’d asked her about ‘anything odd’ with the returnees, she’d left the conversation with a pit in her stomach, the root of doubt and suspicion that has now blossomed into fully fledged mistrust and, frankly, fear.

“We have to get you out of here. Out of Storybrooke, away from Gold. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

“I concur.”

But then Emma frowns. Regina is away today, attending meetings offsite in regards to the returnees’ release, and Emma knows there is no way she is going to get Killian discharged from here without her permission. Any other returnee, maybe, but not Killian the media magnet.

She could attempt to sneak him out, but if they are caught … well, it was bad enough that Emma was seen by the media near him during his previous escape attempt. If they are caught again when she’s aiding him in an escape attempt … she’d be re-assigned to another returnee at the very least or fired at the very worst, and Killian will be kept here, in Gold’s clutches, for even longer.

“I can’t get you out of here tonight,” she says, swallowing down the anxiety that comes with the thought. “We have to wait until Regina is here, and do it all by the books or … well, I don’t know what will happen. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Emma sighs, and rises to her feet. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the barracks. I think you may be safer there with the guards all around.”

They leave her office, walking carefully around the corner leading to the foyer where the media conference had been. But it’s over now, all the chairs and the podium cleaned up.

The walk to the barracks is mostly in silence, both of them lost in thought. When they reach the lobby, Emma grips Killian’s arm, pausing him in his tracks.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” she warns, her voice a whisper. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to talk to Regina about your release.”

“When have I ever gotten into trouble?” he replies teasingly, and he rests his hand over hers briefly before moving towards the staircase. “Goodbye, Emma.”

She watches him head upstairs to his room, until he’s gone through a door and out of sight.  Emma should go back to her office and get some semblance of work done, but she pauses instead. The cafeteria is just ahead of her, buzzing with the hum of conversation. It’s lunch now, and the returnees are free to move about as the media are gone. An idea has occurred to her, and instead of heading back to her office, she walks into the busy cafeteria.

Near one of the wide windows at the opposite end, Emma spots David and Mary Margaret. As she’s walking over, Mary Margaret notices her first, brightening with a wide smile and shining eyes.

“Hi Emma!”

Their enthusiasm still makes her a bit uncomfortable, but she tries to smile genuinely as she takes a seat opposite them. They are smiling widely at her, clearly thinking she’s here for a friendly chat or at least a step in the right direction for their relationship, and suddenly Emma wishes that was all she was here for. A pleasant, light conversation with the parents she lost for 28 years, returned to her miraculously by (as it’s truly appearing to be) magic. 

And yet here she is instead, a dark cloud of fear and suspicion hanging over her. She glances around before speaking, not really sure who she should be on the lookout for, but in any case, the other returnees and agents are pre-occupied with their own meal or conversation. And, besides, she supposes she has an excuse to be sat here talking with David and Mary Margaret – they are, after all, her parents.

“We’ve been wanting to tell you,” Mary Margaret starts brightly, before Emma can get up the nerve to speak. “Graham told us that once the first group of returnees start to be released, he thinks David and I will be allowed out for more visits. We were hoping, well …” she trails off suddenly, uncertain, and David grasps her hand tightly, squeezing it for support. Mary Margaret smiles at him, and continues, her voice much stronger now, “Maybe we could meet you and Henry somewhere for a meal one day?”

“Oh,” Emma says, taken aback. “Um, yeah, that that would be great.”

They smile in delight, and Emma finds she does truly mean that. If they had said something like this even a few days ago, she probably would’ve scowled and made up some excuse as to why it couldn’t happen, but instead, she is already imagining them at Henry’s favourite restaurant, with him showing them his favourite dishes and desserts. “Um, Henry will be so excited to hear about that. And I want to hear more about it too, but first – I came here to ask you for a favour.”

They nod, exchanging a glance with each other, plainly thrilled that whatever this is about, Emma has decided to ask for their help. Their willingness makes Emma’s heart twinge; they’re so happy to have anything from her, even if it’s an indication of a grain of trust, that it lights up their whole expressions as if she just agreed to start calling them mom and dad.

She gives herself a quick mental shake, and focuses again. She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice so they can only just hear her. “There’s something … weird going on around here, I’m still trying to figure it all out, but I need your help in the meantime.”

David and Mary Margaret trade worried glances at her tone. “Of course,” David says firmly. “What’s going on? What is it about?”

Emma hesitates. She wants to tell them what Killian told her, but it’s not her story to share. Besides, the less people who know about Gold, the better. Instead, she says, “Can you keep an eye on Killian Jones for me for the rest of the day? Make sure he’s doing okay and keeping himself out of trouble?”

David frowns, and crosses his arms across his chest. “The pirate?” he demands, and Mary Margaret glares at him.

“It’s important,” Emma continues, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I – can’t really say much else, but it’s important.”

“Of course, Emma,” Mary Margaret says, and she elbows David, who, reluctantly, nods. “That’s no problem at all. We’ll ask him to have dinner with us tonight.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” She then gets to her feet, and disappointment flashes across their faces. She winces. ���Sorry, I have to get back to work. But, I – uh, well I’m looking forward to that dinner one day soon.” 

The disappointment fades a bit, and they say their goodbyes. Emma returns to her office for the rest of the afternoon, trying to get through her stack of endless paperwork, but it’s pointless. She gets nothing done, her mind on Gold and buried treasure and even when she gets home, she’s a nervous wreck all night, unable to focus on anything at all.  

Henry is his usual chatty self, but Emma can’t keep focused on what he’s saying. She has no patience for cooking tonight either, so instead orders in pizza, much to her son’s delight. As he’s munching on his fourth piece of deep-dish pepperoni, Henry pauses mid-bite, glancing at Emma’s untouched first slice.

“Mom? Are you ok?”

“Sorry, kid,” she replies, and she forces herself to smile reassuringly. “Just distracted by work. Want to play a game tonight?”

He is satisfied with that answer, and playing Clue with Henry does help to pass the time, but her heart isn’t in it and she is soundly beaten in each of the three rounds they play. When it’s finally her son’s bedtime and he’s sound asleep, peaceful and warm in his bed, Emma herself gets ready for bed.

Sleep, however, has never seemed so far away. Her mind roils with the revelations of the day, her stomach turning with nausea and anxiety. With no wink of sleep in sight, Emma sits up in bed instead. She leans against the solid wood of her headboard, and hugs her knees into her chest, watching the tree outside her window sway with the cold wind.

It’s so simple, to watch the trees, illuminated by the street lights below. They are just as they were yesterday, unchanged by the revelation of magic such as controlling snow or re-attaching hands or transporting hundreds of people through time. 

She watches the trees for a while, and at one point, Emma finally drifts off, her dreams a jumble of pirate ships and bright white light.

Those dreams, however, are abruptly broken by a shrill ring of her cellphone.

Emma jolts awake, and grabs the phone from the nightstand, answering it without reading the caller ID.

“Hello?” 

“Emma, it’s Anna!” Her colleague’s voice is frantic and harried, and Emma sits up, her heartbeat accelerating.

“Anna?”

“You need to get back here to Storybrooke right away. It’s – it’s about Killian Jones. One of the returnees was found dead and –”

Emma swings her legs out from under the covers, the floor cold beneath her bare feet, as icy as the shot of pure panic running through her. “What? Is – is Killian –” 

“No, no, he’s fine,” Anna says hurriedly, as if just realizing the implication of her words. Emma’s heart stutters again, her emotions of fear and relief in whiplash. “Well, I mean he’s not hurt, he’s not quite okay as you would say, but –”

“Anna, what the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean – okay, like I was saying, I was staying here tonight with Elsa, and then – well, there was a commotion maybe an hour ago and when I went to see what had happened … well, one of the returnees is dead. It’s pretty clear they were attacked … like, with a sword.” 

Emma’s heart sinks though she’s sure she already knows. If he’s not the one dead, and the victim was attacked with a sword …

“And what does this have to do with Killian?”

“He’s been arrested for the murder.” 

_______________________________________________________

The drive back to Storybrooke is a blur. She’d woken up her neighbour across the hall and half-dragged her over to watch Henry and get him off to school in the morning, only telling her there was an emergency and she had to leave right now.

When she makes it onto Storybrooke’s grounds, she careens into an empty parking spot, half out of the vehicle before she’s stopped the engine. The main returnee barracks building is bright and illuminated, and Emma marches towards it, her heart pounding heavily with each step she takes.

On the steps leading to the building, outside the main doors, stands a group of several individual Emma recognizes as police and FBI officers from their emblazoned jackets. As she approaches, one holds her hand up to block Emma’s path.

“Hold up! No one is allowed entry right now. A federal investigation is underway.” 

Emma’s hands curl into fists at her side, and she digs out her identification badge from her jacket pocket. She has no time to argue. “You don’t understand, I need to get in there.”

The officers’ frown at her badge, and she opens her mouth to furiously continue, when a voice calls her name from within the main doors.

“Emma?” The guards move aside, revealing Kristoff Reinsdyr, one of the guards at Storybrooke, looking pale and frazzled. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

One of the FBI officers scowls, and looks Emma up and down. “We have orders to not let anyone else in until Commander Hua says –”

“Emma needs to come in. She’s Jones’ agent in charge of his case here.”

Kristoff gestures her forward, and Emma doesn’t wait to see if the officers complain again, though they do move out of her way finally. She and Kristoff hurry inside, where the brightness of the fluorescently lit building makes her eyes sting as he leads her towards the back staircase.

“Glad you’re here, Emma. Anna told me she called you,” Kristoff says, as they take the steps two at a time up to the fourth floor to the isolation and interview area. Emma is reminded sharply of the first time she had come up here, when she’d met Killian the first night, when he’d been belligerent and thrown in here to cool down.

The thought sets her teeth on edge. “Kristoff, what the hell is this about? Anna said there had been a murder?”

He hesitates. “Yes, it seems like it. There was some commotion around midnight in the residences. We thought perhaps it was a fight, but when we got there to see what had happened …” He trails off, and shakes his head once. “It was awful, Emma. Truly horrific.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and Emma decides she doesn’t want to know. “And – they think Killian did it? Where is he now?”

“In one of the interview rooms upstairs. He was with a few of the other guards for a bit, until the FBI got here about an hour ago. Now he’s in with their commander.”

They reach the top floor, and Kristoff leads her down a cold, empty hallway to the cluster of interview rooms at the end of the corridor. Kristoff opens a small side door, into a small observation room that faces the larger interview room through one-way glass. Three FBI officers are in the room already and they frown at her, but she simply flashes her identification badge in their direction before looking through the one-way glass at the scene ahead.

Killian is seated in a similar room to the one she first met him in, his face smooth and impassive, as cold as she’s ever seen it. His wrists are bound with handcuffs, chained to the table in the centre of the room. Mulan Hua, the commander of the Boston FBI who Emma recognizes from the lake, is seated across from him, watching him with a careful, quiet gaze.

“Let’s go over this again,” she is saying, her voice strained with patience. Emma isn’t sure how long Killian has been talking to her, but by his sour expression, she knows they’ve already been over this conversation several times. “Tell me exactly what happened this evening.”

“As I have told you a thousand times since I was dragged from my bed by your deranged guards,” he snaps, drawing the words out so they are each peppered with a near growl. “I have no idea what happened. I was in my room all evening, save for dinner. All I know is what you’ve told me: a man has been found dead, and you suspect I had something to do with it.”

“Murdered,” Mulan corrects, her face solemn. “He’s not only dead, he was murdered.”

Killian rattles the handcuffs pointedly. “Not by my hand. If I’d done it, I’d bloody well confess. I may be a pirate, but I’m no coward. I’ve committed my fair share of atrocities, but I will not confess to something I did not do.”

“How do you explain the fact that your sword was found discarded nearby, stained with blood?”

It could be a damning statement, but Killian laughs, rumbling and low. “You think me fool enough to leave a murder weapon lying about where any bumbling twit can come across it? Not to mention that I haven’t had my sword since I arrived in this bloody time when your guards confiscated it, so how, pray tell, do you think I managed to get my sword back?” 

Mulan sighs, irritation flitting across her features. “Well, we know how you did it. We have evidence. Video evidence of you removing the sword from the Collection Room.”

Emma’s eyes widen, and she feels abruptly like she’s been punched in the gut. They have what?

Killian, however, isn’t fazed by this bombshell; after all, he probably has no idea what a video is. “I don’t care what evidence you say you have. It’s all false, I didn’t do it and I haven’t had my sword in weeks. So, either arrest me and throw me in a dungeon, or let me go for I have nothing more to say to you.”

 And at that, he falls silent. Mulan tries to get him to speak again, but to no avail. Eventually, she sighs and gets to her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor and making Emma flinch. “Okay. You think about things, and I’ll be back with something for you to eat and drink.”  

As she heads for the door, Emma sees her chance to speak with her. She darts past Kristoff and the other FBI officers in the observation room, out into the hallway, catching Mulan just as she’s shutting the door behind her. 

“Commander,” Emma calls. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Oh, Agent Swan, I’m glad you’re here.” Mulan breathes out heavily. Now that she’s out of the interview room, she appears tired, her face pale, her eyebrows pinched together with stress. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you. Do you have any idea why Jones would want to kill Henry Jekyll?”

“No!” Emma replies vehemently. “Killian wouldn’t kill – who the hell even is that?”

“He is another returnee. Or rather, was. He was one of Jones’s roommates when he was released from isolation. He was found dead earlier by his current roommate. He’d been stabbed several times.”

Emma stares back at her, lost for words, as Kristoff peers out of the other room, as if making sure everything is okay.

Mulan nods at him. “Officer, can you get me a sandwich and water bottle for Jones?”

He agrees, and disappears back down the hall the way he had come with Emma. Mulan turns back to Emma, and at her expression, lets out another deep sigh.

“Emma,” she says gently, almost understandingly. “I know you must have gotten close to Jones while he’s been here –” Emma inhales sharply, but Mulan doesn’t seem to notice “– since you’re his agent and all. Obviously, you don’t want to believe he could have done something like this. But you have to remember that he’s a criminal. He was an outlaw and a pirate, wanted by the British Navy at the time for treason and murder. And that’s just the recorded crimes. We really don’t know anything about him, or what he’s capable of. I’m not surprised something like this has come up, honestly.”

“I am,” Emma replies bluntly. “There is no way Killian killed someone, not when tomorrow – I mean, we are trying to get all the returnees out of here not keep them locked up longer!”

Mulan pinches the bridge of her nose, and gestures for Emma to follow her. “Come with me, take a look at what we found.”

Emma follows her into a second interview room, empty save for a steel table with a laptop on it. Mulan opens the laptop, entering her credentials to log in. It seems to take an exorbitant amount of time, Emma’s nerves fraying further with each passing second. The screen opens to a generic Federal Bureau of Investigation backdrop, and Mulan clicks on a video saved to the desktop, labelled simply ‘surveillance footage.’

“This is from back in early February,” Mulan explains, as the video loads up to reveal a room Emma recognizes as the Collection Room in the basement, where she visited once before to collect Mary Margaret, David and Killian’s belonging, with its shelves upon shelves of boxes and plastic containers.

“Security pulled it for us once we identified the sword. Watch.”

The recording is of the deserted collection room for several moments, blurry and shrouded in shadows, the time blinking in the corner of the video as 3:30 a.m. Then, grainy white light floods the room, the main door swinging open to let in the hallway light.

Through the pixelated footage, Emma recognizes Killian as he strides into the room, confident as ever. He walks to the back of the room without hesitation, to a small area behind a chain link fence which reaches to the ceiling. He disappears off camera as he steps into the fenced-in area, but he’s only hidden for a few moments before he steps back into view.

In his hands, is a sheathed sword, its handle black and simple, apparent even in the poor footage. He removes it from the sheath, and holds it up to his eye level, admiring the blade. He then re-sheathes it and slips out of the room, the light fading from the room as the door swings shut behind him.

The video stops, and Emma stares at it, dumbfounded. There it is, plain as day. Evidence of Killian retrieving the sword.

But she shakes her head as she remembers her own visit to the Collection Room more clearly. “No, no, that’s not possible. Listen, I know he couldn’t have gotten the sword. It was checked out, I remember because I went and got his other stuff and saw it on the list.”

“The list?” Mulan frowns. “What list?”

“There was a list in the Collection Room, a list of each person’s items which weren’t allowed to be checked out, but his sword had a note that it was taken out. So he couldn’t have done it, because you needed special permission to get those restricted items out. I remember because I was –”

Emma trails off, because Mulan is watching her with a skeptical frown. She clearly doesn’t believe Emma, and after all, why would she? There’s video proof of Killian getting the sword himself.

Kristoff knocks on the door to the interview room then, opening it to show the water bottle and wrapped sandwich in his hand. “Here you are, Commander.”

“Perfect,” Mulan says, closing the laptop and striding towards him. “Thank you, officer.”

She’s already back in the hallway, food in hand, marching down to the Killian’s interview room, before Emma, still stunned by the video, springs into action.

She hurries out into the hallway and, before Mulan can open the door to re-join Killian, blocks her path. Killian may be her … well, Emma’s not sure if she could even call him a friend, but whatever he is, he’s her responsibility. Returnees are always given legal counsel if they require it for any reason, including an active criminal investigation whether they are defendant or plaintiff.

“Does he have a lawyer on their way?”

“No, he declined one.” 

Mulan says it calmly, but something about it is the last straw for Emma. The last twenty-four hours have nearly broken her – the video of Elsa, the knowledge that Gold is from the 1700s too, that magic is the most probable reason why all these people have shown up here, and now this: her … returnee arrested for murder and being questioned without legal counsel.

“He’s from the 1700s!” Emma shouts, and Mulan flinches in surprise. Even Killian glances over to the door, as if he heard her too. “Of course he declined one, I don’t know if they had lawyers back then. He has no idea about our laws or processes or anything. Killian doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, he needs a lawyer!”

Mulan regards Emma quietly, and she shrugs. “Well, I’ll speak to him about it again, but I doubt he’ll change his mind.”

She opens the door with the food, and as she does, Emma leans slightly around her, to peer into the room. Killian is watching Mulan enter, stony-faced, but for a moment, a single moment before the door slams shut behind Mulan, he catches Emma’s eye.

If only magic was real; maybe she could send him a telepathic message to ask for a lawyer. But, Emma’s no magician, and the door swings shut, the breeze catching her in the face and rustling her hair. 

“Here,” Mulan says, her voice muffled by the door, and Emma hurries back to the other room, to the one-way glass so she can hear better. The other agents are glaring at her now with open hostility, but Emma ignores them, moving past them so she is standing directly in front of the one-way glass.

Mulan has resumed her seat, the water bottle and sandwich on the table between them, but Killian doesn’t move to reach for them.

“Listen,” she says, casting a pointed look to the one-way glass. “Before we talk anymore about this, I’m going to remind you one more time that you are allowed to have legal representation before speaking with me.”

Killian remains silent.

Mulan huffs a sigh. “Alright. Okay, so let’s go over this again, shall we?”

Killian leans forward, the handcuff chains jangling loudly against the steel table.  “Commander,” he says, intently staring now at her across the table. His tone has changed, the defensive snarls replaced with a charming lilt, soothing and persuasive. “You are a smart woman, smarter than those oafs who were in here before you. You know I didn’t do this. Even if I was so idiotic to kill a man I had met only a handful of times on the eve of being released from this prison, you know as well as I that any criminal worth their salt wouldn’t leave a bloody murder weapon tied to them and them alone near a massacred body should they hope to get away with the crime. Whoever did this wanted you to find that sword, to know that it was mine so you would come to me right away and keep me locked up here.”

Mulan narrows her eyes, and she asks, only half-jokingly, “So what? Someone is setting you up?”

Killian’s gaze flicks over to the door, to where he had seen Emma, before he shrugs, as if the suggestion is ludicrous. But it’s enough to clue Emma in.

Of course. He’s right, he has no motive to kill Jekyll. But someone else does. Someone else, who has something to lose if Killian is released from Storybrooke with the rest of the returnees.

Gold.

He must’ve seen them at the news conference, must know Killian would’ve told Emma everything about their history together. Know that, of course, Emma would try everything in her power to get Killian out of here before Gold could do anything like lock him up like he had always wanted to. So he moved faster, found a way to keep him here, in his grasp where he hopes to get the location of the mysterious object out of Killian, once and for all.

“Emma?” Kristoff asks, reaching out a hand to her in concern, and Emma realizes he and the FBI officers are staring at her.

She waves them away, realization and horror roaring in her ears as loud as thunder. She is still trying to process this, when in the interview room, Killian leans back in his chair, his expression dark and cold.

“Perhaps it is time I speak with an attorney.”

[lunaslashsea]

Crossover Fanfic Recs

The Addams Family/Harry Potter

'Family Values' by Ishtar Petunia Dursley discovers that taking care of two small boys is too much for her, so she passes the guardianship of Harry Potter over to a distant relative — Morticia Addams. With Harry growing up in a very different type of Family, Dumbledore desperately tries to get him back. But the Harry Potter who finally arrives at Hogwarts, along with his "cousins" Pugsley and Wednesday, will be nothing like what Dumbledore expects.

The Addams Family/Rise of the Guardians

'Nightmares for Christmas' by Neyiea Not all children are happy that their nightmares have disappeared, and as such North finds himself receiving a very unexpected letter several days before Christmas.

Big Hero 6/The Martian

'Big Hero Martian' by althor42 There would have been no rescue for Mark, if NASA had not noticed he was still alive. Unless of course, a certain Big Hero noticed instead.

Big Hero 6/Marvel

'Magnets for Trouble' by PitViperOfDoom Months after Callaghan's downfall, Hiro receives a surprise in the mail: a special invitation to this year's Stark Expo. With Fred for company, he leaves the protection of the city temporarily in the hands of the rest of the team and flies across the country to meet the man with twice the brains and bank account of Alistair Krei and several times the infamy.

But of course, it can't be that simple, can it? Really, after how his last expo went, he should have seen this coming.

Bleach/Free! Iwatobi Swim Club

'Teamwork for Hire' by junko After the defeat of Aizen, Ichigo has lost his superpowers but not his skills so he's been hiring himself out to any sports team looking for a strong player. When Nagisa Hazuki approaches Ichigo to join the Iwatobi High School Swimming Club, something piques Ichigo's interest…

Bleach/Harry Potter

'Crazy=Genius' series by blackkat Minerva McGonagall isn't about to let Harry go back to the Dursleys after his first year. She finds an alternative, and along the way, Bazzard Black finds that he might have more family left than he'd ever thought.

'Lost Boys' by glacis After the Triwizard fiasco, Harry leaves Britain behind for a new life. Uryuu befriends Ichigo at a much younger age. Sirius escapes. Points converge and lost boys find a family. Isshin fails. So does Ryuuken. Kisuke finds a friend. Ukitake covers and cleans up. Fate changes.

'There May Be Some Collateral Damage' by metisket Ichigo's been ordered to go undercover at a magic school to bodyguard a kid named Harry Potter, and this would be fine, except that he's about as good at bodyguarding as he is at magic. And he considers it a good day, magic‐wise, if he hasn't set anything on fire.

Bleach/Hunger Games

'Storm the World with Reckless Abandon' by SSAerial So due to one of Urahara's failed experiments that Ichigo unluckily got a full blast of (because life hates him and trouble is attracted to him like a clingy fangirl he could do without), Ichigo ends up in a dystopian universe where people take perverse pleasure in watching kids fight to the death. Which just, no. So Panem now has to deal with a pissed of Ichigo who's determined to stop the Hunger Games and pummel Snow to the ground. And Panem doesn't have a snowball chance in hell in stopping him.

Bleach/Lord of the Rings

'Behold the Flowing Years' by Straight‐Outta‐Hobbiton Ichigo escapes his dimension to start anew, away from the memories of death and friendships past that he can't seem to put to rest. Rohan is a beautiful country, and Théoden is a good king, but evil only grows stronger within the borders of Mordor, and Ichigo finds himself once more forced to protect those whom he has grown to love.

Bleach/Marvel

'Foreign Recruit' by SSAerial Ichigo doesn't know where to start. He has no friends, no family, no personal attachments to the world he got dumped into. The Soul King never specified what he was supposed to do in a world where technology is ahead of its time and aliens and secret governments exist. As for the people he has to deal with… Well, it isn't like he hasn't dealt with colorful personalities before.

Bleach/Naruto

'All My Ghosts are at Rest' series by Zakad An older Ichigo and Uryu leave Soul Society and all its problems behind to search for the near-mythical homeland of a particular Shiba ancestor. They find the Elemental Countries and one little boy who is desperate need of a family.

'Bite' by blackkat Orochimaru and his sons crash‐land in Karakura. Soul Society is most definitely not prepared for what's coming.

'A New Home' by Rain1701 In an effort to save her life and freedom, Hitsugaya Toshiro winds up landing head‐first in the Naruto universe two months before the start of canon. Not much stays the same after that.

'Soul of Fire' by Zeionia aka Disturbed After being betrayed by Soul Society, Ichigo and his sisters leave Karakura behind to find shelter with the remains of their grandfather's clan in the Land of Fire. Instead of the peaceful life they were hoping for, they reach Konoha just as a new danger appears to threaten the Uzumaki. Heart‐broken and tired of fighting, will Ichigo be able to protect his sisters and his new home?

Bleach/Stargate

'Stardust' by Vathara What if some Alterans found another way to survive the Wraith? Five thousand years before the Stargate opens, contact with creatures of energy changes the way of life for an Alteran colony…

Card Captor Sakura/Harry Potter

'Cardcaptor Harry' by LunaStorm In which both Albus Dumbledore and Clow Reed would have done well to remember that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in any philosophy… or predicted by the most imprecise branch of magic…

Doctor Who/Marvel

'Alien Taskforce' by TheSovereigntyofReality Just because S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers didn't listen to Tony after the Battle of New York, it doesn't mean no one did.

Downton Abbey/Marvel

'Tony Stark Meets an Extremely Unimpressed Time Traveler, or, Thomas Barrow Makes a Surprisingly Good 21st Century Butler' by Alex51324 In which Tony Stark ditches a boring party, makes an addition to the household staff, throws a much better party, and tries not to sexually harass his new butler.

Or, In which Thomas Barrow has a little trouble getting home from the pub, is generally unimpressed with many aspects of the 21st century, never thought of himself as a conservative dresser before, and may or may not be falling in lust with his new employer.

Gilmore Girls/Stargate

'Physics of the Spin' by Mhalachai Rory Gilmore always thought she was Christopher Hayden's daughter, but things are a little more complicated than that…

Good Omens/Supernatural

'Misfire' by VivatRex Crowley finds himself in another universe; Aziraphale goes to fetch him. In the meantime, Team Free Will has to figure out what to do with the 6,000 year old demon that won't stay in a devil's trap and keeps rooting through Dean's vinyl collection. Shenanigans ensue.

Gundam Wing/Naruto

'Worlds Apart' by Mieren Something went horribly wrong and Duo and Naruto are in the wrong worlds. Ninja vs technology. How could this possibly go wrong?

Harry Potter/Marvel

'Behind the Shield' by GeeEs It was a good thing the new scientist, Dr. Harry Evans, was working out so well. Because nothing else was going Fury's way. And that was before Loki made off with the Tesseract and some of his people. Maybe AU to Mortem Cantor by Kyandua.

'How Harry Failed to Conquer New York' by Impossible_Insanity

'I See The Moon' by hctiB‐notsoB While on the run, Bruce meets a young man who speaks to the moon. He's probably not quite the sanest friend Bruce could have made, but, well… beggars can't be choosers.

'Mischief's Heir' series by mad_fairy Mostly Harry Potter with the addition of Loki in the first parts

'Mortem Cantor' by Kyandua After losing everything he holds dear, Harry Potter is thrust into a new world; one with Superheroes and evil Villains that make Voldemort look like a kitten. Struggling to survive in this new world - and, meanwhile, gaining the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. - he attempts to live a NORMAL life. But, he is Harry Potter after all... what could possibly go wrong?

'On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads' by Enigmaris Harry finds out that his dad is alive, has been the whole time. Instead of being overjoyed, Harry's disgusted. His dad left earth and abandoned his friends. Every painful thing he's ever gone through can be traced back to one man. Now Harry's got super strength he can't control and an almost unnecessary amount of magical power. His dad might be living it up with the Avengers now but not for long. With the help of his friends, Harry comes up with a plan for revenge. Get ready Avengers, Harry's out to punch a god.

'Safeguard' by esama The Chitauri invasion launches a whole new age – for everyone.

Inuyasha/Yu Yu Hakusho

'Devoted' by Ookami‐chan Loving someone means seeing to it that they receive nothing but the very best of care. In all things.

'Healing Soul' by Trelweny Rosephoenixwolf Canon, IY slightly alternate ending, BG blend but more manga than anime; YYH boys' last year of school but otherwise through series, anime only.

'By Any Other Name' by Deviant Nature Kagome's return after an unexplained, prolonged absence leaves her family with questions she refuses to answer except to assure that it's over. While she attempts to readapt to the present, Kurama is feeling the pressures of human society's expectations. But the solutions to his troubles aren't as straight‐forward as he had hoped. Note: Unrated version is on MediaMiner.net as 'Par Tout Autre Nom'

Harry Potter/Ranma 1/2

'Harry Hibiki and the Philosopher's Stone' by USA_Tiger On the night Voldemort attacks the Potter's home, a completely different person finds Harry before Sirius Black or Hagrid. Harry is found and adopted by Nerima's very own eternal lost boy Ryoga Hibiki! Soon Harry will be joining his classmates at Hogwarts but how will Hogwarts handle this kind of Harry? And how does it affect the prophecy, what is the 'power he knows not?

Harry Potter/Sherlock

'The Avalon Seven' by sifshadowheart Major Non‐Canon A/U, Harry is treated for abuse and massive injuries by John Watson as a John Doe. To help solve the mystery of the battered boy John calls in his partner Sherlock — whose father has much more information about his patient than John ever thought possible. Turning to an old acquaintance, Siger Holmes contacts the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Wallace…Harry's rightful guardian.

First several chapters will be covering Pre‐Hogwarts years, story starts with Harry at age four so it'll be a while before any sort of slash or real conflict happens. Very political fic with lots of twists and turns. Because the plot‐bunnies won't leave me alone!

'Magnificent' by esama The birth of the Ministry of Magic and his relationship with the British Government.

'Whispers in Corners' by esama Everything started with a stumble — his new life in a new world as well as his surprisingly successful career as a medium.

Harry Potter/Sherlock/Star Trek

'Harder Choices' by sifshadowheart Post‐Avalon Seven A/U…a.k.a. This is what happens when plot‐bunnies start mating and multiplying.

Hadrian saves Earth…at a cost

Hetalia/Naruto

'An Englishman in Konoha' by pupeez4eva Itachi Uchiha is a strange child, who regularly converses with things no one else can see, drinks far too much tea, and has a strong and unyielding obsession with being the best big brother ever (or, in a world where England is reborn into the Naruto universe, Itachi ends up a little…different).

The Hobbit/Sherlock

'All Things Old and New' by teacup_of_doom All around the world, people are remembering past lives. Bilbo Baggins discovers that Tookish streaks can span lifetimes — and can have unintended, hilarious, consequences.

Katekyou Hitman Reborn!/Naruto

'Force of Nature' by Ramabear (RyMagnatar) He had died— honorably, he'd like to think, despite living as a villain and an assassin for over half a century— and that, as far as Xanxus had ever figured, would be the end of that. No heaven. No hell. Just life when you were breathing and nothingness when you stopped.

Except that it didn't, quite, turn out that way. Except he came back as the son of the kindest, sometimes saddest father in the world. In both worlds. A father that he knew, without a doubt, to be his flesh and blood. All at once, Xanxus had everything he'd wanted as a child. A home. A family. Stability. And he was going to fight like hell and beat down anyone who tried to take it from him, no matter what his age.

(In which Sakumo raises a son who speaks multiple languages from birth, all of them gibberish to the poor single father jounin, spits vulgarity with the same ease as he does his praise and burns with an unshakable determination to build himself a family that will not fall, no matter who or what is thrown against it.)

'Uchiha Kyōya' by Tsume_Yuki In a world where Fugaku has three sons, he wishes he'd stopped at the one. There's nothing wrong with the youngest, it's just…

The middle child.

Marvel/Sherlock

'In Which Neither Coulson nor Sherlock are Dead' by TheDullYellowEye … and John sort of joins the Avengers. While Coulson's recovering from being stabbed in the chest by a magical spear, Fury is rapidly running out of Agents willing to play babysitter for the newly founded Avengers. So he calls in Captain John Watson, late of the British Royal Army, and blogger and best friend to the infamously antisocial presumably deceased Sherlock Holmes.

Naruto/One Piece

'Lost Uzumaki' by Silver Dragonfly (lillikira) Shanks was used to strange meetings on the various islands of the Grand Line. However, this one was unusual even for the Grand Line. A Lost Uzumaki is found and Naruto has no plans of not becoming part of his family. (A Series of Snapshots about the finding of lost family.)

Naruto/Pern

'One World's Tragedy is Another World's ...Gain?' by Foodmoon Pern goes to hell in a handbasket. Ir'ca tries to rescue the future of dragonkind by being a thief and somehow ends up in the Land of Fire. It's probably a good thing Kakashi handed over the Hat a while back...

Naruto/Sherlock

'Deduction in Shadows' by GremlinSR Shikaku just wanted to finish his paperwork before lunch so he could squeeze in an afternoon nap. His plans are derailed by a six year old orphan when she sneaks into his office with proof that somebody has been kidnapping the children of Konoha and covering it up.

He never does end up getting that nap.

Or: A Holmes is reborn into the ninja village Konoha. Chaos ensues

Rise of the Guardians/Marvel

'Constellations of Old' by kuroi_atropos When the Man in the Moon recognizes Thor as a representative of Asgard, he decides to send the Guardians of Childhood to ask for help vanquishing the last of shadows, as well as a few other things he could use some help with.

'Winter Gods' by avearia The Guardians discover that, outside of Earth, many races actually worship Jack as a God. Meanwhile, the Avengers deal with the implications that come with an almighty spirit, otherworldly religions, and the revelation that Santa is real.