#have forgotten about the existence of other women once we started talking and i’m dead serious

[bitchyblkqueer]

yo my lash tech trauma dumped on me the entire time which is so strange…. i’ve never had a lash tech talk that much before. but my lashes look so good n the price is right so she might see me again next month……

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

Why Tang Shen is soo interesting to me

Okay with all the Nameless Trio content I’ve been posting I feel the need to let you guys know why I find Shen so interesting. This may be a long one but I have LOTS of thoughts so please hang tight.

“If we interfere Splinter will never move to New York and buy four baby turtles”

Donnie in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012) S3 E19

First of all Shen is literally the reason the story happens in most iterations. If it weren’t for her death, Hamato Yoshi likely never would’ve moved to New York, never bought the turtles, and they never would’ve gotten mutated. Without her there’d be no story. And yet she’s barely ever mentioned in canon.

Now I could talk for ages about fridging women and why it’s a stupid out-dated, over-used, misogynistic trope. And I’m not even going to pretend that’s not what happened to her. But one of the main problems with fridging is the fact that after the woman’s death sets the plot into motion (usually for some sort of love interest) she’s eventually forgotten by the plot. Women in fiction deserve better treatment than that. Real women deserve better representation than that.

However there’s another way that characters who die before the story starts can be utilized. One that I’m absolutely OBSESSED with. And that is the idea of haunting the narrative. Two of the best examples that I can think of are Mara from She-Ra and Caleb Wittenbane from the Owl House. Both characters are dead before the series begins. For a while the only way that we know about them is through what the other characters tell us. And, of course, this is a very biased view of the person. Sometimes it’s very one dimensional. 

But even though we know almost nothing about them, they linger. They are everywhere in the story. So many things only happen because of them. Memories of Caleb are everywhere in Phillip’s mindscape. Hunter’s entire life is dictated by the memory of a man who died hundreds of years ago. And even the door, the things that brings Luz the the Boiling Isles and sets the whole story into motion only is opened for her because Caleb stole it from Belos and buried it in the backyard of his family home. We don’t know much about Mara but we know that Adora is in a way doomed to follow in her footsteps. 

“In every other universe Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man. And in every other universe…it doesn’t end well.”

Spider-Gwen in Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

So we’ve talked about out-of-universe stuff. But what about what’s in the actual story? Due to the crossovers we know that all the iterations of TMNT sort of exist in the same way all the universes exist in the Spider-Verse world. They all have their own dimension. I can’t help but think of the parallels not only between the worlds but the characters who live within them. Gwen Stacy dies in every universe but one. She knows this. Unfortunately, the universe where she survives isn’t exactly kind to her. She loses her best friend. She loses Miles. She loses her father. She loses any chance at having a normal life. 

In 2012 the turtles have a conversation with Shen where she is trying to pick between Oroku Saki and Hamato Yoshi. Of course they don’t know this at the time, but one of the choices will lead to her death. However, it will also lead to the world being saved from a variety of threats. But what if she did know? What if Shen knew that she would be sacrificing herself? What if she knew that in every other universe she was doomed to die? In every universe but one, that is.

Tang Shen is never said to be dead in ROTTMNT. But we only see her once in a movie poster. We know she exists but she has no relevance. As far as we know, she’s out there living her best life. So what is she like? What would a person be like in the one universe where she gets to live?

I really hope this wasn’t too long but thank you so much for reading this whole thing! If you want some content about Rise!Shen then visit the Nameless Trio tag on my blog, she’s one of the three main characters in that au.

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter three

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 (coming soon)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: pain, angst, nightmares, metal limbs?

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: Well, hello again, honestly after yesterday I really wanted to write again soon so I could start giving more away. Eep so exciting, thank you again for all your support too!! Please feel free to like, repost and comment any feedback, it’s much appreciated :)) Also lets just ignore that infinity war is a thing for the moment lolz. 

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Natasha. It rang in your ears, there was some familiarity to that name. You kept your face blank, but for some reason it felt like you’d known her in a past life, or perhaps a life you didn’t remember. Though her face gave no indication that she knew either. But a younger version of her face flashed in your mind, only she wasn’t blonde she had bright red hair. You shook yourself from your thoughts, Natasha was a common name, surely you couldn’t know her. Surely.

“Come in,” you responded moving to the side as the women eyed you as she entered. She had to be around a similar age to you. At least in looks, you were at least a century year old in reality. “Did you want something to drink?” You said as you shut the door and gestured to the couch nearby.

The blonde shook her head, taking a seat her gaze still wary. “You’re probably curious to know why I’m here and who I am?”

You nodded as you took a seat on the second couch, it wasn’t often you had visitors.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the Avengers,” She started.

That’s where you knew her from! She’d swapped her red hair for blonde and suddenly you felt less confused.  

“I’m a part of it, and our director Fury has been sending me on mission after mission looking for you. It’s only now we got a tip that you were living in Madripoor.”

You almost wanted to interrupt and ask who had tipped them off, but you thought better of it. You rose an eyebrow at her comment, giving her an expression that told her to continue.

“Anyway, I’m here because we wanted to bring you back to the compound. You’ve been hidden away from us for a long time. In fact, the only reason we know you exist is because of the HYDRA files I shared in 2014. We hoped you could give us some intel; we think something big is going to happen again, but we aren’t sure if it’s HYDRA or something else.” She looked at you again, a serious expression on her face.

Yours matched hers. “You should know I don’t do that anymore, I don’t work as an assassin,” you began suddenly feeling more vulnerable as the terrible things you had done came back up in your memories.

Natasha cut you off sensing your distress. “We aren’t asking you to, we just need your knowledge. Whilst I know Fury wants you to join us in the long run and start fighting again, we also respect your decision not to if that’s what you want.”

You looked at her sceptically, had she not heard what you had just said? Plus, now your cover in Madripoor was blown, if the Avengers knew where you were then surely it wouldn’t be long until every other government in the world would too. You were sure there were many people who wanted you dead.

As if she had heard your thoughts Natasha spoke up again, “don’t worry, if you turn down helping us, no one but Fury and I know you’re here. Not even Steve.”

You silently gasped, you had forgotten about Steve in these brief moments, he was captain America back then, in fact he was still Captain America. Even if you would be throwing yourself back into the line of fire, maybe it would be worth it to see your old friend again. Would he want to see you though? After everything awful thing, you had done. Your eyes began to well again, but you didn’t want Natasha to see you vulnerable.

“Fine.” You spoke sternly looking at the woman in front of you, “I will help, but only if you promise that you avengers will protect me. There’s a lot of people who want me in chains.”

You could see the hint of a smile on her face as she listened, “Don’t worry y/n, we have ways around that,” she smirked. “I don’t exactly have the cleanest record either.”

You nodded, standing up. You knew now if you were leaving that you could never return to Madripoor. If you chose not to fight with the Avengers after helping them, then at least you were sure they could protect you and finally you could maybe be back home. “Where to then?”

Natasha told you to get anything valuable, some clothes and anything else you felt you needed. Luckily for her, you always kept a duffle bag with everything you needed if you had to leave under you bed, along with the shot gun that had been in your hand this entire time till.

You walked to your room, grabbed the duffle bad and your other favourite weapons in another bag and returned in under a minute. Natasha let out a chuckle, she should have known an assassin was always prepared to flee. Something they all knew, never get too comfortable.

Natasha led you out of your apartment, you close the door behind you both and follow her. It felt strange to be taking from directions from anyone else. Besides HYDRA you had always been the person in charge, choosing what you did without direction. But unless you miraculously knew how you’d be getting back to the Avengers compound this seemed like a time you would have to not be stubborn.

She led you to a jet, gesturing you to get on before she did herself. She walked to the front closing the door and sitting in the pilot’s seat. “Feel free to have a sleep.” She said casual pointing to the bed next to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled going and lying down. After having no sleep, you wouldn’t complain, and it would save you having to make small talk with Natasha. Plus, usually you didn’t have nightmares in you ever occasionally napped.

Natasha answered a call and began telling someone (who you assumed was Fury) that you were coming back with her, just as your eyes were filled with the darkness of sleep.

1943

You woke up once again your entire body in pain. Although this time it was different, and though you remembered where you were much of your memories were feeling fuzzy. Like someone had attempted to begin removing them.

That couldn’t be possible though, could it?

There was an ache on your face, remembering your last memory before you had been engulfed in darkness again. You were sure there would be marks from whatever machine had done that to you, wincing at the thought of the pain again.

But besides there being the same pains you had felt before, there was something different. You were still restricted by your arms and legs in the same position but now you had a heart monitor attached, the faint beeping being the only noise you could hear in the silent and dark room. This wasn’t a room though, it was a lab you knew that now, and you were a lab rat to the red skull and his scientists. Why would they care if my heart is still beating? You pondered.

Once again you pushed against your restraints in an attempt to get out, the leather digging into your skin causing you to wince due to how in pain your body already was.  But again as you’d thought earlier, there was something different, yes your arms were wincing at the pain from the leather but your legs felt nothing. You moved your toes and felt no sensations. It was as if they were numb. What had HYDRA done?

As if on cue the laboratory door opened, the same scientist from before entering and two soldiers following behind him. The door slammed closed as the soldiers stayed there on each side of the door. Just in case you got out of your restraints again.

The scientist shuffled forward. “How are you feeling y/n? I realised I forgot the other day to introduce myself, I’m Arnim Zola but you can call me Doctor Zola.”

You sneered as his friendly attitude, causing him to frown. “I can’t feel my legs.” You responded in a harsh tone, “Why?”

“Well y/n, I told you that you would become a soldier for the red skull did I not? Now I understand you’re a ballerina but there’s something wrong with this. You see you always want to be perfect, and what makes you not is among many things your feet.” He looked down proudly at your legs.

The words rang in your ear. Your harsh glare to seem mean had softened as your eyes began to water. “Wh-- what have you done?” You began blubbering, your chest fell up and down panic striking your lungs.

“I’ve made you perfect.” He responded without remorse. Instantly he signalled for the men that had been stood by the door this entire time to come over. They did so, grabbing parts of your body so you were even more restricted that you already were as Doctor Zola walked to the foot of the table you were on. Slowly he undid one of the leather straps restricting your leg. You couldn’t even feel him doing it, your senses not working.

He lifted your right leg so that you could gaze down and what you saw only made your panic attack rise. You shrieked at the sight before you. Your eyes welling more and more with tears. You could hear the heart monitor beginning to pick up in noise, as you heart raced.

From halfway down your calf was what looked like a metal leg and foot. It looked exactly like what legs should be, but it wasn’t. It was silver and cold. Down the side of your calf nearing your ankle was a red star.

Tears rolled down your face as he placed your leg back down strapping it back up, then signalling the men holding you down to move away again.

You would have preferred to die then lose your feet. Your mind wandered as your chest rose and fell so quickly that the world around you began to spin. Would you ever be able to dance again?

Doctor Zola was now next to you again, his face held no remorse, in fact all you could see was pride. Even though the world was spinning, and you couldn’t focus on him you knew he didn’t care. “Don’t worry y/n, after today you won’t care about this. You won’t even remember who you are, only who we tell you are. From now on you aren’t y/n anymore. I’ll see you again when you’re ready to comply.”

The same machine from earlier then began to make noises lowering down to your head. Doctor Zola began rambling Russian words you couldn’t understand, the immense pain began again, and you screeched out in pain.

Present day; 2017

Gasping for air you shot up on the bed on the jet. Natasha looked back at you and instantly you dropped your fearful expression into one that was unreadable. No one would know your nightmares, no one could know you had weaknesses.

Luckily her gaze didn’t last long as she spoke up, “We’re here.” She was just glad she wouldn’t have to wake you up. She stood up, you following her lead out of the jet and towards a large white building with a big ‘A’ on the side.

“Jeez subtle.” You scoffed muttering under your breath.

She rolled her eyes at your comment but proceeded to walk into the building. “I’m sure you’ve heard about most of us. So, I feel there’s no need to explain to you, our names.”

She was right there, of course you knew their names, the whole world did. You hummed in response. She led you both to two big double doors pushing them open as you trailed behind. You may have been as assassin but that didn’t mean you were particularly keen on meeting new people, especially all at once. It took a while for people to come to your liking.

She stopped and you stood almost completely behind her looking down at your hands. You never looked at your feet anymore. The noise of all the voices talking amongst each other suddenly stopped and you could feel all of their eyes on you both.

“Everyone this is y/n, she’s going to help us with our current task we’ve been working on.” She spoke sternly but giving them all a small smile.

You raised your head reminding yourself to not be vulnerable and narrowed your eyes as you scanned them all. Of course, most of already knew who you were having read your files when she released them; each giving you sympathetic looks mixed with fear. But not Steve he never had the heart to look at yours and Bucky’s files. If he ever saw you both again, he knew in time you’d tell him.

Finally, you were met with a familiar set on blue eyes, not the ones you had fallen in love with but still ones who once meant so much to you. Now you weren’t so sure.

Steve looked like he was going to die of shock, as he stared at you with such intensity.

He took a step towards you, “y/n?”, his eyes searching for you to show some sort of emotion. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. You took another step back, away from him, the hurt instantly flashing across his face, but as soon as it was there it was gone.

“Hi Steve.”

- 

A/N: ooo we love the tension. how does reader know Natasha?? is it just cause she's an avenger or is it something else? I’ll guess you'll have to see *evil face*

P.S. we’ll see Bucky again soon I promiseeeee

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ @cataves​

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Apology

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst?

Words: 1,174

Summary: Y/n misses her husband so much that it affects her visibly. Rebekah allows her to rant about it then schemes with Elijah. Before Klaus knows it, his older brother and younger sister are before him with an important message.

Note: I’ve decided I’m gonna do three parts, which. on that topic, part three will be released soon! 

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​, @jenepleurepasbaby​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

His castle, really the Mikaelson home, was deserted apart from himself. Every day, the weight of his guilt daunted him. Too stubborn to straight away admit his foolishness, even to his wife, he sat in the lonely home of the Mikaelsons. It wasn’t like he didn’t wish he could reverse what he’d done, nor did he believe he wasn’t in the wrong. Klaus was just...Klaus.

On the other hand, Y/n was surrounded by the people she loved, minus her husband. Elijah and Rebekah were constantly checking on her and rarely did they speak of Klaus. The one time Davina tried to bring him up, all three older women stared her down and shook their heads urgently. It was like he was a forbidden topic, a man who’s name was no longer something allowed to be mentioned if you so much as valued your life.

However, it was quite the opposite with Y/n. Whilst she appreciated their caring company and loving gestures, she had no problem talking of her husband. In fact, she wanted to talk about him. Y/n desperately wanted to figure out the whole situation so she could be resting beside him in their shared bed every night again rather than the uncomfortable one provided by Marcel. She was grateful, but she yearned for the love of her life.

Each time she tried to talk about him, someone was quick to interject. Eventually she gave up, but when she hadn’t heard from him for a few months, she began to grow ill with worry. She couldn’t literally get ill as a member of the undead but it did affect her drastically. It wasn’t long before the others started to notice.

“Y/n, dear, are you alright?” Rebekah paused in place, concern lacing her knitted eyebrows as she set down the teacup she was about to pour the hot water in.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I suppose I’m fine.” Her lie wasn’t nearly as convincing as Klaus deemed Aurora’s to be, which was saying a lot.

Rebekah new better than to listen to her sister-in-law at this time. “What’s bothering you, love?”

But then, that was the problem. If Y/n were to tell anyone who was watching over her while she tried so hard to get back on her feet and recover from her fight with her husband that he was what was on her mind incessantly, they were surely to shut her down instantaneously. She hadn’t tried her luck in some time, over being interrupted again and again.

“It’s nothing...”

“No, no, no. Unless ‘nothing’ is making you look like utterly useless trash, no offense, then it is something.” She crossed her arms and leaned her hip into the counter with a sigh. “So, tell me what the ‘something’ is.”

Although Y/n doubted Rebekah would let her bring up Klaus, even for a second, she decided it was worth a try. “Well...if you really want to know-”

“I do.”

“Then,” she inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as she prepared to voice the source of her troubled thoughts, “it’s about Nik.” Y/n waited, watching Rebekah intensely, waiting for her to interfere and change the topic. But she never did.

The Blond looked around for a second, then back to Y/n, “Are you going to continue or are you just going to leave me in the dark?”

“You’re...not going to stop me?”

“No. If he has you this distressed, we might as well solve the problem instead of letting you dwell in it.” Rebekah moved forward, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Y/n. “Now. Do continue.”

“Uh- Alright.” And so Y/n explained to her sister-in-law, as though she were her personal therapist, the distress she felt, the weight of their first large and unsolved fight a burden on her shoulders like Atlas and the world. In truth, she had taken up the role and become rather serious about it. 

“Well, what do you think we ought to do about it?”

“I- We?”

“Did I stutter? Or did vampirism not amplify your hearing the way it should’ve?” Despite her sarcasm, she waited for an answer, but when one did not come, she chuckled a bit. “It’s the same as the last time. I have your back. We all have your back, so, if you’re going to do something about it, so am I.”

Both Rebekah and Elijah were the first to enter the forgotten Mikaelson palace in the time since the king and queen parted ways. Klaus reigned terror more than before, threatening people because he felt like it, doing things to quell his anger even though he knew full well that the satisfaction it gave him was only temporary until he had his queen back. Klaus was just as broken as Y/n and it was only when he was in the darkest place of months without her, did he fully take in Hayley’s words and actually give an effort to see the truth.

It was true, Y/n was loyal to a fault, and yet, he believed the woman turned out to be just as evil as her brother and Lucien in plotting against the Originals. He was vengeful when he found it out, putting an end to their plan and their existences with the help of his family and some friends. That was the last time he’d seen them since then.

“Thank you, Elijah.” His voice quivered.

Elijah pulled at his cuffs slightly, then looked at his brother with dead emotion. “This is the last time I will be by your side until you realize your wrong doings and do the thing you know you must. Until then, brother.”

As Elijah walked past him, he bumped Klaus’ shoulder harshly. He couldn’t help but freeze, tears filling his eyes as his gaze remained glued to the ground.

Snapping out of the memory, Klaus wiped his tears away.

“Alas, he finally returns to reality.”

His head snapped around, eyes wide and still watery. “You came back-”

“But not for you.” Elijah was quick to put an end to any hope of his siblings trust Klaus had left. “Niklaus, do tell me, have you any remorse for what burdens you have placed upon your wife?”

“Oh...” Klaus realized the true meaning of his siblings’ arrival, the guilt swimming around his gut only intensifying.

“Oh indeed, Nik. She’s ready to forgive whenever you’re ready to apologize.”

“Are you here to help me?”

Rebekah laughed, “No, I’m afraid you’re the one who made the mess, so you’re the one who must clean the mess. We’re simply the messengers, dear brother.” She smiled with false sweetness, then turned and paced out of the room.

Elijah, once again left alone with his younger brother, uttered his wise words of advice before he too left for the second time. “I do wish you take Hayley’s words to mind, Niklaus. It would do not only you, but your wife some good.” By the door was where he stopped one final time. “Mind you, if you truly love her,” he paused, “you’d do what is right.”

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me on the edge, we’ll jump together.

Pirate au pt 4

azriel was so insanely close to sucker punching berdara. but unfortunately the bargain forbid him from hurting her until after they found the huge hall

he was heading towards his own ship when gwyneth stopped him. “pick your best men I can fit 5 maximum of you on my ship” 

“and why exactly are we taking your ship” 

“and why are you determined to be difficult” he nearly laughed at that, him difficult when she had spent the last 10 minutes toying with him at every chance. 

“I am determined to be fair, we’ll play for it” 

that peaked her interest as her eyes went wide “sword fighting, combat, cards, good old fashioned fists?!?” what was with this girl and fighting.

“uh no I was going to suggest rock paper scissors.” 

“who hurt you to make you so damn boring” 

“who made you a masochist” 

gwyneth didn’t falter for a second “wouldn’t you like to know” she said with a lazy grin

“so majesty are we going to play or not?” 

“best of three”

she put her fist up in answer. 

once again I’ll cut to the chase, after many rounds and accused cheatings azriel won 

“Oh fuck off” she grumbled while he smirked triumphantly 

“that’s not very nice gwyneth” obviously her response was to give him the finger

“bite me” 

“don’t give me any ideas” 

“do what you need to do we leave at dawn” 

“you’re going to be a delight on my ship aren’t you” 

“always am” with that they went back to their respective crews and ships to prepare. 

now that she had left to her own ship azriel thought over what had just happened. he wasn’t so much of a fool that he couldn’t admit she was  beautiful, with hair of flaming locks and a slightly insane look in her eye. there was something about her that despite being incredibly violent she radiated a certain amount of joy. every insult, every quip was said with a bright smile on her face. and she had pinned him with an alarming amount of ease but he wouldn’t let that happen a second time

and fucking hell he had made a bargain. well he knew for sure this journey was going to be something else alright 

on the shadowsinger azriel made an announcement to his crew “everyone sit your asses down and listen up. 5 ladies from the silver majesty are coming aboard our ship to assist us in our search for the huge hall. I am under bargain that no harm will come to any of them, so by affiliation every person aboard the shadowsinger is under the same bargain. you have any questions, take it up with rhys and cassian. I have shit to do in preparation for this voyage and to make sure our other ‘business partners’ stay up and running in our absence. do not bother me” 

about an hour later he was once again alone in his chambers with his first mate and quartermaster. 

“so you really believe they can lead us to it” cassian asked

“I believe that she made a bargain and knows the severity of a bargain.” 

“you bound yourself to the captain of our biggest rival, who you currently want to murder, captain I trust you with my life but I hope you know what you’ve gotten us into” rhys ever the strategist 

I hope so to he thought instead he said “I have thought over every possible outcome and we will come out of this with the huge hall and their heads strung up like trophies nailed to the wall.” 

————— gwyn’s pov at the same moment—————

alright crew fortunately the shadowsinger is on board, pun not intended, unfortunately I lost rock paper scissors and now I will be choosing 5 of us to join them in our hunt for the huge hall. so Em, archeron, VIv, and cressieda you guys are coming with me, bring only as many weapons as you can fit on your person. nuala cerridwen you guys are in charge. if everything is not in order by the time I get back I will start slitting throats. there are instructions in my chambers. so fuck, drink, steal, kill you guys know the drill.” 

gwyn sat with nesta and emerie strategizing 

“how do you see this playing out” nesta asked 

“oh we are going to walk away from this bleeding money with the shadowsinger kneeling at our feet” 

------------------------back to azriel’s pov------------------------

azriel watched as for the first time since he had become a pirate, there were women on his ship indefinitely. to gwyneth’s right stood a tall slender women, with her hair in a simple braid, she was assessing his ship with eyes that looked far too old for her age

to berdara’s left was a thin women with eyes that cut through him, they were sharp and very resentful. she was devastatingly beautiful with two katanas at her hips. behind them were two women with white hair but their differences lay in their skin tone. one had the fair skin of the winter court while the other had dark skin that contrasted her hair marking her as from the summer court. 

azriel looked over to his own crew. cassian was starring at the female with the swords practically drooling over himself while rhys looked indifferent. 

lucien was also starring at the women to gwyneth’s left but he looked at her like he recognized her rather then whatever the fuck cassian was doing 

the women noticed cassian and immediately threw a dagger at his head. it didn’t miss by much. 

“hey!” cassian shouted. “if you had chopped off my hair I swear to fucking god I will rip out your throat like its nothing” 

the girl looked him up and down and ignored him. “really you could have killed me”

so obviously she threw another one. it fell right between his arm and ribs

“berdara can I have a word please?”

“of course”

“rhys please make sure they don’t kill each other” 

“no promises” he replied not looking up

gwyn followed him into his room. 

“so shadowsinger, what do you want to talk about?” she gave him a light punch on the shoulder. he glared at her

“what do I want to talk about? hmm how about that girl just threw a dagger at my quartermaster. twice!”

“ok 1 that girls name is nesta and 2 if she wanted him dead he would be. so I consider that a great success” gwyn smiled earnestly. 

“are you forgetting the bargain we just made?”

“clearly threats were not taking off the table or have you forgotten ‘i will dump you in the river’ or ‘i’m going to shoot you in the head’ or ‘i will leave your guts across the 7 courts’ etc. hers was just a little more physical thats all.” 

“well can you try to control your crew” cheap shot but worth it, until gwyn broke out into a fit of laughter.

“me? control nesta? I thought you said you’ve heard the stories, you must have heard about the time she climbed 6 mountains in 5 different courts to find a man who ripped her off by 2 coppers. coppers! and I was all ‘that’s my girl’  because if there was one thing I’ve learned in this business it would be that men will take every single opportunity to tear you down but they can’t do that if they don’t have limbs.” 

“great so your entire crew is just as insane as you are”

“we maybe insane but at least we aren’t crying over every dagger that comes within an inch of our hearts.” 

“yes I’m sorry we would rather not fucking die”

“oh poor you, you must be a truly terrible pirate if death doesn’t stop at your door every once in a while.” 

“you know I am very much regretting working with you at this moment”

“wait you aren’t in love with me? shocker.” gwyn’s whole demeanor changed and she brightened as if some realization struck. “but that reminds me I was told I need your help to find the treasure and I certainly don’t need more man power so how will you be contributing?”

“I had thought about that and I was think about something you-”

“aww you think about me?” azriel rolled his eyes

“I was thinking about something you said and I would like you to elaborate on the blank map.”

“no please?”

“please” he forced out 

“well my informant who found me the map has never been wrong before and my witch says it reeks of magic.” 

“you think its spelled.” 

“I do”

“and you think I am going to help you uncover the magic?”

“indubitably” azriel was kind of impressed by her certainty

“aren’t you?”

“yes” he grumbled

“thought so, I’m smart like that.” 

“of course you are perfect in every way possible” 

“look any other day I would love for you to shower me in accurate compliments but we are kind of on a time crunch” 

“yes majesty”

“you know what its kind of growing on me, I too consider myself a queen” 

az ignored that and went to his closet. he opened the doors and unlocked the safe taking out the only thing in there. it was a small vile that contained a vibrant blue liquid. he gently carried it over to gwyn

“this is the last liquid fashioned by the last pheonix to ever exist”

“oh my fucking god you have pheonix piss” gwyn was practically jumping with glee. 

“I mean I wouldn’t exactly put it that way but yes, the liquid of the pheonix was said to act as a serum to reveal ones truth. it should be powerful enough to break through any ward or spell. and while mostly used on people it should work on objects too.”

“wait wait wait, that could get you millions and you’re going to use it on this??”

“who’s drooling now? yes it could but this hall could get me more and I’d prefer it not in the hands of certain people.”  

“alright I mean not really how I operate but it’s yours so you can do whatever you want with it.” “glad you approve, map?” gwyn cautiously pulled out the blank map and set it down on the table. 

he opened the vile and began to pour it over the map, praying that this would not be in vain. the vile had cost him greatly. he looked down and gwyn stole the words from his mouth “holy fucking shit.”

[chalkrevelations]

So, Episode 7 of Word of Honor, and where to start? No, I’m kidding, I know exactly where I’m starting, which is with some recognition of what a great job this show does of developing 98 percent of its multitude of characters, because the first two things I’m going talk about this week aren’t even Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing OR Wen Kexing’s thirst (AKA, the three main characters of the show).

Well, I guess I’m really starting with the usual warning – this is a re-watch and so there are SPOILERS here, not only for this episode, but for most of the show. Scroll away and come back later if you’re trying to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

SO, I mean, come on. Of course I’m starting with the Smartest Man in the World, who has finally shown up in this episode, and I’m reminded once again what an actual cinnamon roll, too good for this world, Cao Weining is. He’s maybe the single completely good character we meet  – even Chengling wants to burn down somebody’s house at one point because he’s mad. But Cao Weining is almost too good to be true – and yet, there he is! Living his best life, being good, eating good, falling in love, and refusing to let his beautiful, clever, fierce girl’s neuroses come between them. I love him, y’all. And not just because he instantly falls in love with A-Xiang when he happens to see her beat up a bunch of drunk bro assholes in the inn where he’s having a quiet little lunch by himself before she storms into his life like a purple whirlwind. But let’s do think about this from his perspective, yeah? And let’s remember it as we watch the progression of their relationship, as we wait for the revelation we know is coming, and as – many eps down the line – he learns the truth of her. Cao Weining’s first experience of A-Xiang is someone who’s brave and capable, who defies outsized odds to come to the rescue of those in need, who doesn’t allow women and girls to be abused, who expects proper behavior from the representatives of the jianghu, and who is absolutely fearless in demanding just treatment and never even thinks to be intimidated when she faces unfair censure from an authority figure. This is the girl WKX raised, y’all. This is a girl who embodies everything Cao Weining has been taught to believe in as a cultivator. And this is the girl Cao Weining sees every time he looks at A-Xiang. Maybe, just maybe, this is the truth of her, and Cao-dage sees and understands it from the very first time he spots her, and anything else he’ll learn about her is really extraneous. (Hmm. I wonder what other relationship we’ll eventually end up seeing that kind of dynamic in, where someone truly knows you and believes in you, so everything else is unimportant?) Also, Cao Weining tells A-Xiang she’s very beautiful, and how many people do you think have ever told her that before in her life? He asks why he would want to fight and hurt her, and how many people – particularly men, given where she grew up – have ever told her that before? He buys her lunch – twice, because the first round gets cold. Remember a few episodes back, when WKX asked her who the second cutest person in the world was, and she responded that it was someone who would buy her a meal? Well, here he is. For bonus points, it is hilarious how badly WKX responds to Cao Weining’s very existence after ZZS points out the pair of them having a toast at the same inn that WKX and ZZS have stopped in WKX has dogged ZZS’s footsteps into. Poor Cao Weining doesn’t even get the shovel talk – although to be fair, he doesn’t get the full-court Ghost Valley Master press, either, so WKX must have been holding back somewhat – he just gets told to get out, before WKX grabs A-Xiang by the ear and delivers some scathing commentary on her taste in men, like he didn’t immediately fall for some rando who was tits out, drinking himself to death in the gutter.

ANYWAY, from the Smartest Man in the World, we’re going to move to Han Ying, My Beloved, who we see interacting with the Five Lakes Alliance again, this time in the person of Gao Chong, leader of Yueyang Sect and host of the upcoming Heroes Conference, da-ge of the 5LA. I had honestly forgotten we got to see so much of Han Ying this early on. What strikes me here is that this is a guy who I actually could believe is the second-in-command of Tian Chuang at what is it? 21 years old? When he’s doing his job, and ZZS is nowhere around for him to make pining puppy-dog eyes at, he’s focused and determined and a bit forceful and somewhat threatening and, frankly, appropriately arrogant for the job he’s been sent to do. He’s also wearing a cloak with a mini-Collar of Evil. He comes off as, dare I say, a capable leader of an assassin organization and a guy who’s able to do a proxy flex for his boss without looking completely ridiculous - which puts him one up on Duang Pengju, omg that asshole, and also makes me feel a little better about how I want ZZS to wreck him (or I guess, technically, him to wreck ZZS, because I’ve never seen a character (except Marcus Flavius Aquila, THANK YOU for your service, Channing Tatum) who put off such subby service-top vibes. WHY is there not more Han Ying/ZZS on AO3, fandom? I thought better … worse? … better? … of you.) When Gao Chong claims the Glazed Armor is a myth, Han Ying basically calls this older, respected zongzhu a liar and gets up in his face before refusing a dinner invitation and sweeping out in his mini-Collar of Evil with a credible “PAH.” My boy has layers, y’all.

What else? We start out the ep at Luo Mansion, a wedding scene, and I’m struck by how the Ghost Valley colors match traditional wedding colors, here. I’m thinking about how A-Xiang’s wedding dress won’t be red (and I think green was more common during the Tang dynasty?) although all the decorations will be, and I’m thinking about how we have this wedding as a book-end to that wedding, and I’m thinking about how it’s interesting that a girl who was raised in the Ghost Valley and protected by the Department of the Unfaithful meets a man who’s going to be so faithful to her in the same episode as this wedding with/of the dead. Ghoul, who’s one of the attendees from the Ghost Valley, also remarks that the red makes him hungry, so there’s a meat reference to throw into the thematic basket, I guess. (Also, hey. Ghoul is played by the same guy who’s Sun Yongren in Killer & Healer.) Lovelace (ugh) briefly menaces one of the Department handmaidens before Luo Fumeng shows up, and I think she’s Yun Zai or Hong Lu, one of the two maids that A-Xiang rescued from him, although I’m not positive, because her hairstyle is so different and hides a lot of her face, here. So, we’re all attending the “wedding” of Mu Yunge, the apparent fuckboy who got got a couple of episodes ago as bait for Ao Laizi when Changing Ghost got his hands (briefly) on the Danyang Glazed Armor. We did see a brief scene with Yunge in the last ep, when he woke up tied up in bed, being menaced by someone who appeared to be his dead lover – who hanged herself while pregnant with their child – but turned out to be Beauty Ghost using a face-masking technique similar to ZZS’s disguises. In the interim, Ghost Valley has kidnapped 10 cultivators as his wedding party, and – this is the important plot point – that includes Deng Kuan, head disciple of Yueyang Sect. We get to see some of Beauty Ghost’s ruthlessness here, as she carries in the dead woman’s memorial tablet draped in a red cloth – how’s that for some foreshadowing (my f’kn HEART) – to set it down in the “bride’s” place before Yunge is forced to bow three times. (Dead girlfriend was a Mo from Broken Arrow Manor, and I … am not sure if that is significant or not. Is she possibly related to Mo Huaiyang? Does anyone know which sect is associated with Broken Arrow Manor?) Beauty Ghost also kills two of the 10 “guest” cultivators for talking without permission as she explains the next event to them – cage match. Only one of them gets to get out alive. Deng Kuan, the best of them, apparently, pleads with everyone to not let themselves be divided, but we can all guess how this is going to go. I guess maybe he’s the other completely good character we meet, but he sure is a punching bag. He ends up the last man, sort of, standing, as he kills the final other person in self-defense, but not before getting stabbed, and he goes down and is out for the count.

Meanwhile, cut to Zhao Jing and Shen Shen drinking and gossiping at an inn on the way to Yueyang. Shenshen – Shenshen – continues to bemoan Chengling’s uselessness, and also talks about the torture the other Zhang family members underwent just in time for Chengling to overhear in the hallway, so thanks a lot for even more trauma, Shenshen. Zhao Jing is so sad about it all, y’all. He’s just so very very sad, can we just stop talking about it, Shenshen, because you’re making him sad, and he’s just going to let Da-ge figure it all out, OK? Uh-huh.

Fourth plot thread of the episode is ZZS skulking around, following Chengling, trying to convince himself that this kid is safe now that he’s turned himself in to gone to live with the 5LA, even as ZZS spots Tian Chuang spies in the ranks of the Yueyang disciples and among the dumpling vendors on the streets outside. ZZS follows the dumpling vendor, gives him a code phrase and almost gets his head taken off by a Scorpion blade for his trouble, before stabbing Dumpling Man in response. WKX picks this exact moment to wander back into ZZS’s orbit, taking the chance to flirt as Dumpling Man spits up blood and dies in the alleyway, because of course he does. WKX tsks, accuses ZZS of being cruel, and quotes some poetry about fair faces and poisonous hearts, which - like all of his poetry - has a double meaning, because which of them is he really talking about, ZZS or himself? ZZS notes that WKX is openly wearing the (Danyang) Glazed Armor because of course he’s looking for trouble, but WKX loosens his stays and clutches his pearls and replies that he couldn’t possibly be looking for trouble – him? Philanthropist Wen? He’s not a merciless killer like ZZS. Whereupon ZZS finally says out loud what he’s been clearly thinking since he started going on about what an awful person he is in the LAST EPISODE, which is why the hell don’t you stop following me around, then? There’s some more flirting, and WKX continues to follow ZZS around, and ZZS takes note that WKX is obviously flaunting the Glazed Armor out in the open, and then there’s a little sleight of hand when Famous Pickpocket Fan Bu Zhi, oh noes! Steals WKX’s Glazed Armor right off his belt when he isn’t even looking! before WKX continues to follow ZZS around, conveniently into the same inn where Cao Weining and A-Xiang are having lunch. After WKX attempts to chase him away, we discover Cao Weining has had his wallet stolen. WKX deploys his Sadness Eyebrows to convince ZZS to turn over his wallet to pay for Cao Weining’s and A-Xiang’s lunch. ZZS – who does an admirable job of refusing for a bit – finally caves, and WKX orders lunch for everyone, on ZZS. Now all we need is Chengling, because the fam is not complete without Goldbean.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Grow as We Go: part 10

Part 10 schweee

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!reader

I done goofed and forgot to put an indicator. When it switches to y/n talking to Shinsou it’s a few weeks later. Love hurts y’all and feelings take time to figure out!

Warnings: extra long written part sorry, blood mention, death mention

10.5 Masterlist

You threw your phone onto your couch and then flopped onto the couch in anger. You yelled into the cushions, blessed they can take your frustrations. Sure it’s been a couple of weeks, but isn’t this ridiculous? Well you were one to talk so you flipped yourself over and sighed deeply.

You knew you got yourself into this mess by not opening up to him from the beginning. But you were only trying to protect him, and look at how well that went. You didn’t want him to know about your family crisis because it wasn’t something that was supposed to be common knowledge. But then again he was your best friend... Still, he was still training and focusing on internships he didn’t have time to deal with your issues. 

You’re about to dive deeper into that well of unending sadness until your phone starts buzzing. It’s a call from Aizawa and you pick up immediately.

“Hello?”

“(Y/n), we’ve had a situation come up. I’ve already called Shinsou and one other. I’ll text you the coordinates but be ready for anything. You still haven’t forgotten your close combat skills right?”

You chuckle softy, “as if I could forget! You two practically killed me.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Right,” you huff, “not the time.”

“I’ll see you in 15.”

And he hangs up. Whatever the situation is, it must be serious if he’s not budging at all at your banter. That has to be what Shinsou was called over, you muse.

*********

Once you’re at the determined meet up spot, Aizawa and the police chief give you all the rundown. A ragtag team of villains have created a hostage situation in the hotel. A gala for the elites is being held there and it’s been ransacked. Some people have been hurt but none that require surgery or a hospital visit. 

“Which is where you come in. We need you to infiltrate to take care of the wounded and read back the situation to us. They’ve cut off all links of communication and the feed inside the building is on a loop. You’ll have this camera and microphone attached to you. Eraserhead and Mind Jack will be flanking you the whole time.”

“Why them? It could have been anyone,” you asked.

“Yes,” the chief continues, “but the criminals asked for you specifically and then mentioned the other two. Do you understand your role,” the chief turns to your cohorts, “you two as well?”

The two men nodded and you begin to prepare for infiltration. You’re in the middle of getting the camera and mic ready when you feel his presence behind you. 

“I’ve been through worse and you know it.” Once the camera is secured and hidden you turn around to see deep lavender eyes staring back at you.

“I wanted them to use me instead.”

Your eyes roll as you get ready to meet with these villains. “That’s not your call to make. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah I’m aware of that.”

You hadn’t missed the snark and hurt in his tone. “Shinsou we don’t have time for this.” You read over the files of who all is in there and what their quirks may be, lest things go south. “You made it perfectly clear to me you need space. At least honor that.”

With that, you head straight for the hotel, doing your best to not draw attention to Shinsou and Aizawa flanking overhead and enterting from up top; if the villains have a video feed. You walk into the grand lobby and are greeted by one of the crew. He looks you up and down and you do your best to keep a poker face and not snap at him. You do your best to avoid the comment about your body and skin and keep up appearances. With the camera and mic, you do your best to stay silent. Once you’re at the room, you swiftly knock him unconscious, the cue for your flankers to come down. 

“We’ll be right outside here. The minute we hear anything go awry or you’re not back in five minutes, we’re heading in.”

Aizawa’s firm and cold whisper fills the reverberant hallway as you nod. You don’t meet Shinsou’s gaze as you walk into the double doors. The hall where the gala is being held is gorgeous. You wish you could take it all in but once you see what’s around you, that becomes an afterthought. 

You see what appears to be a stage at the front of the hall, and members of the elite all huddled and scared. You make sure to turn your full body around so the police outside can get a better grasp on the situation.

“Ah, (Y/n)! It’s so nice to see you! Please, make yourself useful and help my man here. Poor bastard got stabbed with a shoe. Can you believe this people? The nerve.”

You flinch slightly at the use of your real name and not your working name. You ignore it and go up to the stage where there’s a man bleeding with a shoe stuck in his stomach and a woman, whom you now assume is either dead or close to it. She wasn’t killed by anything loud, so it had to have been a quirk related incident. 

You move down to the injured criminal. “I’m going to take out the shoe, it’ll hurt for a little bit okay?” You words soothe him over until you forcefully take out the shoe. The man cries and curses at the pain but then your quirk goes to work to heal him, repairing the damaged cells and skin as it goes back to being normal.

You hear claps above you as the, you think, pompous leader applauds your work. “Marvelous work! Just as I would expect from someone with a rare healing quirk such as yours.”

That sentence and his accent alone was enough to strike fear into your core. The way this man was acting was too over the top but now you know why.

“Long time no see, that’s the phrase yes?”

Your blood ran cold as his disguise was taken off and you were met with the face of Akira Fukawa, the man behind your attempted kidnapping and the bane of your family’s existence.

“Surprised to see me out of jail? It helps when you have yakuza ties.” You try to approach him in an attack but he read through your movements and only had to touch you once in order for his quirk to activate: time manipulation. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for you while Akira appeared at normal speed. “Aww, is this where you were gonna take me out? Pity, that’s what all these people thought too. Poor woman got close but I averted her attack in time. Ashamed I had to kill her though.”

Once the effects have worn off, your arms are tied behind your back and the man you have been afraid of and detested for years at your back. His breath makes you want to vomit but nothing comes out of your mouth, not even clipped words.

“I had always wondered what made you and your family so great. Why everyone from your old home and even the yakuza and Shie Hissaki here wanted you! And now I get it.” Fukawa pulls a knife out from behind you and you try to wiggle your way free but his hold is on you tight. “Your quirk is so rare! A healing quirk that can help detect other health problems in the body? What a sight! Now tell me, what was wrong with my guy over here hmm?”

You steady and calm yourself as you recall using your quirk on the healed man beneath you. “Other than being stabbed with a shoe, his blood thinning is getting worse and his heart may give out soon.”

You hear a satisfied hum behind you and the sound of a strangled cry coming from the once healed man. Did, did he stab him?

“He was on his way out anyways. But really I’ve wanted an audience with you! You, you look delicious. Not like these Japanese women here but-“

“You fetishizing piece of shit!”

“There’s that spunk I was looking for,” he chuckles. “You really are something special. And I want you, actually wanted you for a long time. But now that other people want and have you too...

“I don’t want anyone to have you.” The terrifying man dangles the knife in front of your face, “ see this? It’s quirk cancelling. Been waiting for years to use this.” Your stomach drops lower into your body as you begin to realize your fate. You faintly hear the sounds of the police and the two heroes burst onto the scene but it was too late.

Fukawa menacingly whispers in your ear as the doors open, “say hello to your mother for me.”

You don’t feel anything until you look down at your torso, blood staining your clothes quickly as you lose consciousness.

“(Y/n)!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry lol

Taglist: @cupcake-rogue @chefakari @angelofdarkness1020 @pettyjayy @minninugget @bakugosteddybear93 @thatonegeekchick @graybabyxx @rainbowgundrops​

[lochrannn]

AU-gust: Ya like Jazz?

Read on AO3

No warnings

prompt no 7: Beekeeper

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

-

So, dad’s dead and now they have his estate to deal with.

The stupid townhouse that the old man had cobbled together from two separate houses, making it into some kind of monstrosity of cavernous halls and oddly shaped rooms, and then filled it to the brim with artefacts, antiques, taxidermied animals, and seven children he didn’t love, stolen from all corners of the world, was bad enough. But this… thing in the middle of absolutely nowhere really puts the cherry on top of the turd sandwich… or whatever the expression is, Klaus is finding it hard to concentrate on his own thoughts while he’s looking at the creepiest wood cabin he has ever seen in real life.

He shouldn’t even be here. He’d only come along to the reading of the will as he was hoping to get some cash that his father would have left for him, purely for appearance’s sake, but then his slightly estranged siblings (they have met for family weddings and funerals, and occasionally run into each other more or less intentionally over the years) promised him a real share if he helped them deal with things.

He should have stuck to Allison, but she is freshly divorced and in a surprisingly bad mood about it, so Klaus decided on Diego instead. But that has landed him outside the cabin, none of them knew existed, after a slightly tense two hour drive with his grumpiest brother.

The drive was tense because the last time Klaus had stayed with Diego when he was between living arrangements, he may have liberated from his brother a - what turned out to be - quite expensive watch.

Diego really does like to hold a grudge. Klaus thinks that’s rather pedestrian of him.

But as nothing can be proven, Klaus decides to repay Diego for the watch by giving some assistance with the cabin and not even complaining about it. Well maybe a little.

“What was the old coot even doing with this?” he asks incredulously.

“Dunno… let’s go and find out,” Diego says and then goes up to the door and breaks the lock with his Swiss army knife, like a glorified boy scout.

What they find inside is more of what they found inside the house in the city. A place filled to the brim with stuff. And to Klaus’s utter annoyance, it is very hard to distinguish the valuables from the junk.

They start halfheartedly looking through things, not even bothering to tidy much, just deciding that they’ll probably have to take anything that’s worth keeping and then hire a company to do the rest.

Klaus opens a heavy looking wooden chest and then springs back with a yelp.

“What?” Diego calls from the other room.

“Bees!” Klaus shouts in a high pitched voice and then edges back a little more, glad he dropped the lid back down in his panic, but still able to see the huge writhing mass of a hive before his mind’s eye.

“What the shit? Nah man! I don’t fuck with bees!” Diego has made it no closer to Klaus than to the door between the rooms and he’s apparently decided that’s as far as he needs to go.

“What do we do?” Klaus’s usually stoic brother asks him with a deep frown and a lot more worry in his voice than Klaus has heard in a long while.

“I don’t know,” Klaus answers, making his way over to find shelter in the other room, not particularly interested in getting stung either.

Then he has a thought, “But if the internet is to be believed, there are bouji white women all over the place who love nothing more than to scrape some bees out of any old crack or crevice, I’m sure we can find one who’ll help us with our little issue.”

He pulls out his phone and starts searching. Not quite sure what to type into google, he just tries the dumbest version of what he’s looking for. That usually works.

“Aha!” he exclaims, and Diego comes to look over his shoulder. Klaus reads out loud, “It says ‘The Bee Handler - we handle any bee trouble you might have’ sounds like exactly the thing we’re looking for. And this woman might be a bit older than I expected, but she’s excessively blonde and very bouji looking, don’t you think?”

“Call her!” Diego grumbles.

The bee handler lady says she has no appointments free for a removal for the next four weeks, but when Klaus explains that they have come all the way out to the cabin and weren’t planning on coming back, but need to be able to look through the rest of the bee infested room, and when he then also explains that they are willing to compensate her handsomely for her troubles, the woman promises to send her daughter along, who is apparently involved in the family business.

-

Klaus and Diego decide to edge their way along the wall of the room full of danger, just to get out of the cabin and wait for the bee handler’s daughter out on the porch.

When a huge, fuck off truck pulls up the dirt road about an hour and a half later and a woman climbs out the driver’s side, she turns out to be nothing like what Klaus had expected.

Klaus had imagined a tall, elegant, blonde woman, wearing a pastel coloured chiffon blouse, maybe a wide brimmed hat. Instead he finds that they’ll apparently be rescued from their bees by a tiny, very angry looking goth.

She clambers up onto the flat back of her truck, not having acknowledged Klaus and Diego yet, pulls a huge case down, and then stomps her way over to them, once shiny red boots getting duller with each step she takes along the dusty path.

“The directions you left for me were absolute dogshit, which one of you numpties do I have to thank for that?” Her accent sounds a lot more like their father’s than the woman Klaus talked to on the phone.

“That would be me,” Klaus answers, having no trouble keeping his tone excessively pleasant. He’s quite certain she just called him an ition, but if he got offended every time someone called him an idiot, he’d end up being constantly angry like his brother. The brother who’s gone oddly quiet.

Klaus turns around to Diego, as the woman stomps up the wooden stairs, and finds a very peculiar look on his face.

“Right, I’m Lila, I’ll be handling your bees today… yada yada, my mother insists I give you the spiel… for the branding. So, where are the little creepers?” the woman, Lila, drawls with a slightly blank expression, but her kohl rimmed eyes glow a bit brighter when she starts talking about the bees.

“Just this way,” Klaus swings his arm towards the door dramatically to indicate the way. “After y…” he trails off when Lila breezes past him entirely ignoring him.

He’s just about to follow her in, when Diego pushes past him, also saying nothing and with a slightly dumb, almost dreamy expression on his face.

Oh fuck, Klaus thinks. He’s forgotten about his brother’s thing for intimidating, angry women. This should be interesting.

-

Klaus can admit that at times Diego can be remarkably smooth. At other times he is a huge dumbass. These versions of him occur seemingly at random and apparently today Diego is incapable of pulling off smooth.

The two brothers spend most of the time that Lila takes dealing with the hive, back in the other room, watching from the doorway as she… does whatever it is she has to do… and Diego has made multiple attempts at small talk, but Lila keeps shooting him down with bored one word answers. Klaus likes her on principle for making his brother look like a fool.

Once she’s more or less done, she closes the lid of the chest and instructs the two of them to carry it outside so that the remaining bees that she couldn’t secure in her crate can fly out, once outside, and hopefully follow her along to her destination.

Klaus really doesn’t want to do any heavy lifting, and even Diego next to him seems reluctant to get too close to the bee infested chest, but it’s not like they have much of an alternative so they seemingly silently agree to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Klaus takes the front end, assuming his brother, who has much more in the way of brawn to offer, will have an easier time of keeping his end up when they make their way down the front steps.

They manage quite well, with hardly any cursing from Diego, and Lila follows them outside.

And then, to his genuine surprise, when they get to the dusty path in front of the porch, Klaus catches Lila staring at Diego where he’s gently putting down his end of the chest - Klaus just let his drop unceremoniously - and she’s thoroughly checking his brother out.

Good lord, Klaus thinks, Diego is lucky that he’s hot.

But somehow, nothing else happens. It seems, Diego’s given up on his pathetic attempts at flirting, and while Diego scribbles down his credit card information, Lila just looks at him with a slight scowl, as if he’s taking too long for her liking.

She gets in her truck and Diego ambles back towards the cabin, “C’mon Klaus, I want to be done here before it gets dark!” he calls.

“Right with you in a sec!” Klaus sing-songs back and thinks he hears a grumbled ‘whatever’ as Diego disappears back into the cabin.

Klaus makes his way over to the open car window where Lila seems to be sorting through some paperwork.

“What now?” her question dripping with irritation.

“Do you ever make it into the city?” Klaus asks, as casually as he can manage, which is very.

“How’s that any of your business?” Lila shoots back, giving him a very sceptical frown.

“Humor me for a second,” Klaus gives her his brightest, most disarming smile.

And apparently it works, because she shrugs and says “on occasion…”

“Then you should let me give you my brother's number!”

“Why?” Actual bafflement has made it into Lila’s voice, she doesn’t even sound quite so angry anymore.

“So you can call him up when you’re in the city, silly! Go on a date, have wild, sweaty sex, or whatever you kids want to do!” and when her mouth literally drops open in shock, Klaus goes on, “Oh please, are you telling me you didn’t notice him mooning over you?”

“He was?” she asks in a voice that’s significantly more quiet and softer than any other she’s used on them all afternoon. And Klaus can’t be sure with the dark brown of her skin, but he’s getting the impression that she’s blushing.

“Oh my god! You two idiots are made for each other. Give me your phone!” Klaus rolls his eyes at her.

Lila pulls out her phone and hands it over.

[ifeveristoday]

Angel + Spike is dead, long live Angel + Spike

A postmortem on Boom’s Angel + Spike. The final issue of the series dropped today and I wasn’t going to write anything about it, because I had gotten increasingly disappointed with the direction the series took. With some exceptions, I don’t actually enjoy hate watching/reading/experiencing something because life is too short (especially NOW) to waste time on things you don’t like. My snark is better used elsewhere, you know?

But with this final issue and the topic of bad endings in 2020 fresh in fandom, I felt something had to be written.

A spoiler filled recap and thoughts underneath the cut as always.

tl;dr: the Supernatural of comic book endings but at least no one goes to superhell.

Angel + Spike and a series finale was listed on Boom’s website as early as three months ago, but only confirmed to be really, really finished by the second writer recently. 

And that’s a shame, because it started with a lot of potential that got squandered over its sixteen issue run. The new creative team only had three issues to wrap up what came before them and the direction they chose to go..really didn’t mesh with what was established. If they had more time, maybe they would have been able to solidify their vision and make those different characterization choices stick.

Unfortunately, they didn’t.

The problem that consistently plagued the series overall was that it felt like the writers (both the original and the new one) only took the most superficial of interpretations of the original show and completely forgot about what made it special. Even as a non-fan of Angel the series, I can appreciate the show for what it did really well.

The comic reboot completely lost the plot midway and neglected the characters, particularly Angel and his interpersonal relationships with Fred and Gunn. Then the decision to make Kate the reincarnation of Angelus’ lover/evil right hand and violating Fred and Gunn with possession (spoiler alert: Gunn survives his possession and then is sidelined for the rest of the series, Fred becomes possessed by a representation of the Devil *and* an ancient earth goddess and basically the human Fred is dead WHAT A SHOCKING TWIST said no one who’s experienced the original canon ever), Spike the voice of reason and Angel cut off from his team and only focused on Kate, while feral werewolf packs and Wolfram and Hart belatedly schemed in the background.

There was just Too Much.

And yet not enough of what should have been the most important part - the characters. By the time the second creative team took over Angel, I was caring less and less about Angel and what his crew were up to, because they were so separate (Angel’s characterization really suffered after the Hellmouth event. The estrangement and sudden disregard Angel had for his team didn’t really go anywhere meaningful other than to set up Spike as a bemused greek chorus.)

Not only did Angel’s character/motivations suffer, so did the other characters, namely: in all universes, women who are in Angel’s orbit/world SUFFER.

No agency for anyone!

Fred gets possessed by Baphomet and takes over Wolfram and Hart as defacto CEO and does a bunch of ooo girlboss/evil things. Then she has a competing spirit take over her body, an earth goddess/entity who overpowers Baphomet and expels him out. But ordinary Fred with her math and never to be discussed experience in a mental institution/trauma is gone. She’s more powerful now. Angel only remembers to rescue her after Gunn brings her up in an earlier issue and after intimidating the evil Brachen version of Jeff Bezos, Angel finds out it’s Wolfram and Hart behind her disappearance.

Kate conveniently gets memories of her time as Angelus’ lover/second in command and is conflicted about starting a relationship with Angel, who conveniently has forgotten he has a curse and is reallllly eager to kiss and reminisce about all the outdoor sex they had in a past life. Lillith and Lilah, the two deliberately drawn as femme fatale/cool characters have zip to do with the story as it wraps up - Lillith says some of her usual mysterious Angel you have a deeper purpose blah blah new concept of the dream sea or body of water with importance and then promptly disappears from the narrative. Lilah showed up in some swanky suits and gets murdered by Angel in this issue, after doing very little except to follow Fred/Baphomet around.

And we get a surprise Harmony cameo, which is not only unexpected but completely unearned, because she calls Spike Blondie Bear, which begs the question, when the fuck did Spike get close to Harmony? Harmony is in the Buffy comic (or showed up once in the early issues and then blip) and so, presumably still a teenager. What is she doing receptionist work for Wolfram and Hart for? Is time in the Angel comic operating faster than it is in the Buffy comic? Are we in the future? Is this hell?

The cavalry arrives but Fred’s inner goddess has saved her, at the cost of her original characterization and as they flee from the Wolfram and Hart’s security demons, they get taken to a multiverse dimension which looks mighty familiar -- a hotel, which is looked after by a familiar pair of vampires - Angel and Spike. Spike has long hair that’s tucked up in a bun and full tattoo sleeves on his arms, while Angel just looks scruffier.

Have these last three issues just been a weird convoluted path to get to canonical Angel/Spike? Is this the worst slash fic ever?

But that’s where it ends, the Angel team with Kate still hung up on being Angel’s reincarnated lover, Goddess! Fred, Spike being the cool Uncle you ask about sex (we get Lemon as Spike’s safe word, which....I will allow as an incredibly dumb meta joke), Gunn and Oz just being there and not in recognizable character, and Angel. 

Some other details:

There’s a Brachen version of Jeff Bezos in this verse and a joke about all the money in the world and he lives in a glass fishbowl, all the while Angel, a vampire has a glass house in the hills of Los Angeles. With a secret armory in the basement. That Spike knows about. Make your obligatory joke about the bottom here.

BUT. Did you even read the early issues, bro?

Angel has a glass house. Evil millionaire has a glass house. Don’t throw stones.

Gunn is basically written out and only pops up to fight by their side and his whole reason for getting involved with is explained as being a lawyer for Wolfram and Hart and will never get punished.

Werewolves appear to be universally shunned by other demons and wow I’m glad we didn’t have long with the series before it turned into this whole tortured allegory of oppressed peoples because it’s always great to line up mythical creatures with the plight of real marginalized people suffering, I’m talking about you Rob Thomas and your zombies yes I am.

Women get killed and fridged and basically exist to further men’s storylines and I wish this wasn’t a hold over from canon. Thank fuck Darla didn’t get involved in this universe, or anyone from Buffy.

So with that multiverse ending - does that mean Jordie can sweep them into a crossover with her multiverses in future issues? Perhaps. These are important characters, particularly Spike and Angel, so I doubt that we’ve seen the last of them.

But at least now they’ll be written by other people.

[doctorthedoctor]

A Far Cry From Nothing

After their return from the 17th century, Yaz finds solace in the words she's carried with her for years, and the familiar voice behind them.

Ao3

“Here.” Yaz settles on the floor beside the Doctor, placing a steaming mug in front of her. “A cuppa should help warm you up.”

“Thanks, Yaz,” the Doctor says, defeated. Silence falls between them after that, but it’s the comfortable kind, asking for nothing in return and mingling with the gently crackling fire burning in front of them.

They’re in the library, which is a room the TARDIS has, apparently. Yaz only just learned of it as the Doctor guided her through twisting corridors upon their return from the 17th century. She’s never been this far into the ship before, and she’s certain Graham and Ryan haven’t either. The room isn’t the vast and lavish display she’d expected. It’s small and quaint, dimly lit by candles and oil lamps, with uneven rows of tattered books lining the walls. There is proper, solid wood beneath the edge of the crimson rug they sit on. It feels special, almost like a time capsule tucked away in a lonely corner of the ship.

The Doctor slouches underneath several quilts, only slipping her hands out to reach for the tea. Warm light flickers on her skin as she takes a sip and hums in appreciation.

“Added some cinnamon to it,” Yaz says after taking a sip of her own. “Something my mum used to do back when I had a bad day at school . . . which was most days.”

A corner of the Doctor’s lip twitches into a smile, just for a second, and then it falls.

They’ve been on a few adventures since the Punjab, each a little different but all following the same sort of rhythm. Monsters wearing different faces. Victories with losses in between. Grey areas and deaths that linger as a permanent lump in Yaz’s throat—the kind she knows she’ll never get used to. The kind she doesn’t ever want to get used to. Because what happens when all of that becomes second nature to someone?

The Doctor, she’s learning. That’s what happens.

She can tell this life is one the Doctor has lived for quite some time. Yaz can feel it on her skin, rough fingertips calloused from the hours of work she busies herself with. She can see it in her eyes too. The way they mute and fall every so often when she thinks no one is looking. Sometimes even when she knows they are.

Their most recent adventure had been different, though. It’s not uncommon for the Doctor to become a target to the foes they confront. That is, in fact, painfully common. But something had snapped inside of her this time—almost like she finally put on her glasses and read the fine print of being who she is now. There’s more to consider, the Doctor is realizing, than simple matters of pockets and the like. There are obstructing forces that extend far beyond her control, baring their teeth and snarling over her words.

This is what it means now, to be her. Patronized. Silenced. And, in 17th century Lancashire, tethered to a tree and plunged into a river. Tried as a witch at the command of an ignorant king.

It’s all so clear now. And ridiculous. And wrong.

“Want to talk about it?” Yaz asks softly. The sincerity in her voice is almost warm enough to thaw the Doctor’s growing numbness. Almost. She meets Yaz’s gaze, shaking her head slowly as she breathes an empty laugh.

“You humans,” she mumbles, almost in disbelief. “You make it so hard. So much harder than it needs to be.”

“Make what harder?” Yaz has a feeling she already knows, but that’s not the point. “Existing,” the Doctor explains, her words taut with frustration. “As if it isn’t exhausting enough on its own, you lot have to go and make up all these silly little rules for it. Who’s allowed to do what, and when, and how. Like there’s only one right way and anyone who does it differently is wrong and less than because of it.”

“Yeah,” Yaz admits with a crushed sigh. “We’re pretty good at that, aren’t we?”

“Thirty six women, in one small village, in one tiny pocket of time. Thirty six. Dead. For no good reason.” The Doctor’s eyes fall down to her mug, chasing the swirling flames reflected in the white glaze. “There’s never a good reason,” she murmurs.

“Never,” Yaz agrees. “I’ll never understand it. How people can know they’re hurting someone and decide to keep doing it anyway . . .”

The Doctor looks up at her, surprise and a touch of embarrassment written on her face, as if she’s just realized she isn’t the only one in the room. “Look at me,” she says sheepishly. “I’m sat here sulking as if this is the worst of it.”

Yaz stays quiet, like the words haven’t even reached her, but the Doctor watches intently as her body does the talking. Her jaw flickers ever so slightly and her breathing begins sounding more like a chore. Social cues don’t come naturally to her this time around, but the Doctor finds that Yasmin Khan is a language she can understand almost innately.

“I’m so sorry about Izzy,” she whispers. “I had no idea.”

Yaz’s chest tightens as she forces down a trembling breath. “Don’t like to talk about it much.” She shrugs, trying her best to keep everything in. “It was the worst year of my life. She made me believe so many awful things about myself. Made me feel like nothing.”

“You’re a far cry from nothing, Yaz,” the Doctor insists, hazel eyes beaming as if they reflect the whole of the universe in them.

Black curls mask Yaz’s face as she looks down at the floor and traces a finger over the amber lit grain of the wood. Only part of her is still in the room, the other part tangled up in bitter memories. “Tell that to the little muslim girl with ‘terrorist’ carved into her notebooks,” she says in a small voice. The words might as well be a rock crashing through a mirror; there are no tears, but everything seems to shatter.

Without hesitation, the Doctor slides close, leaving no room between them. She sheds half of her quilts and drapes them tenderly over Yaz, keeping one arm wrapped around her while the other guides her sunken head to rest on her shoulder.

“I’ve got all of time and space in arm's reach,” the Doctor whispers, “maybe I will.”

Yaz cracks a smile and relaxes, letting her body sink into the embrace as she rests her hand on the Doctor’s thigh. Without any forethought, the Doctor dips her head down and feels the soft silk of Yaz’s hair against her lips. It’s like diving into a jar of honey glimmering in the afternoon sun, and it’s in that moment the Doctor knows with certainty that Yasmin Khan will linger on her skin until the end of time itself.

Neither of them say anything, but neither of them feel like they need to. They sit wordlessly, drinking in the comfort of each other’s presence as they so often do. The kiss is quick and gentle, quiet in a way that makes it feel like something that happens all the time. It seems almost like an instinct, but there’s a newness to it—one that plunges Yaz into a pool of rippling warmth and makes her heart stutter. It’s special, she thinks, to have an anchor in the wake of everything else that is.

If only existing outside of these timeworn walls were just as easy.

*           *           *

Yaz finds herself cozied up on her bedroom floor with an old shoebox later that night. She’d unearthed it from the clutter beneath her bed after deciding to give her room a long overdue cleaning. The box is blanketed in brown craft paper decorated with hand-drawn stars of every color, though she’s always favored the purple ones. The corners have dented over the years and edges of the paper are now frayed, but everything that matters on the inside is still there.

The box is brimming with memories. Yaz stumbles into so many pieces of herself she’d forgotten about over the years. Photos from her football days in primary, filled with wide grins and missing teeth. A friendship bracelet her friend, Aisha, had made on their school camping trip. Even one of the daisies Danny had picked for her during their first of many strolls in Endcliffe Park together. And then, at the very bottom, she finds a message scribbled on a ripped piece of notebook paper. The blue lines have since faded, but the words still look as fresh and crisp as the day she found it.

There had been a small electrical fire that day. The entire school lost power, forcing the students and faculty to evacuate with no time to pack up. They waited out in the parking lot for about an hour before learning that they wouldn’t be allowed back in until the following day.

Yaz found all of her belongings sitting exactly as she had left them the day before, with the exception of a tiny shred of paper sticking out of her maths notebook. It was tucked behind a page marked up with an assortment of ugly names that had been hurled at her one too many times before, but in her night away, the names had been firmly—and mysteriously—crossed out.

She never did figure out who was behind it. No student in that school offered her any semblance of kindness with Izzy around, so she’s always chalked it up to having been done by a teacher or janitor that took pity on her. That note was the first flicker of light she’d seen in a long time. Desperate to cling to it, Yaz started a collection of anything that twinkled and made her feel lighter. Her little box of stars, she called it, and she held them close for a very long time. Even after she was rid of Izzy, they continued to bring her endless comfort and warmth. Those stars were her anchor. They still are.

Though she now sits alone in her room, Yaz feels anything but as she raises the note and studies the loosely scrawled letters once more. The handwriting is sloppy, like the words had been jotted in a hurry. The message itself has never translated as careless, though. In fact, those words have nestled into her chest as some of the most sincere words ever spoken to her:

There’s more than this.

You’re more than this.

With one corner of her lips curled into a smile, Yaz runs her thumb over the letters, now realizing that the stranger behind them is actually no stranger at all, but a friend still making their way. An extraordinary sight she’d yet to behold. An entire universe longing to be discovered.

Yaz reads the message over and over, feeling more renewed than she ever has since the day she found it. The words settle further into her chest, nestling deep into the dusty chambers of her heart and warming her from the inside out. Except she can hear a voice with them now, one she knows will echo through her mind long after these stars have found their place back underneath her bed. It’s okay, though, she doesn’t find herself needing them nowadays anyway. The real ones are much brighter, exceptionally warmer, and more stunning than she ever could have dreamed.

And for the first time, Yaz is glad she stuck around to see them.

[boat-dock]

Freya

part 4 of my Mikaelson family oneshots... honestly I could turn this into a whole fic... let me know if that’s something yall would be interested in

set after 2x06 Josie and Freya come back to Mystic Falls together and bring back everyones memories and then go to find her. while Hope deals with her own fears of being forgotten and learns what it truly means to be a Mikaelson

The preparations for Commonwealth day were in full swing as Lizzie pulled Hope away so they could talk privately. It was strange having someone to talk to again, someone who knew everything, especially since that person was Lizzie. They had never had the best relationship, it was on the mend when Hope went into the pit but still, the irony of this situation wasn’t lost on her. 

Hope glanced around nervously as Lizzie dragged her away from the crowd of people, “ I don’t know how long I can keep this up Hope,” she groaned, “I’m terrible at keeping secrets.” 

“We talked about this,” Hope responded trying to keep her voice level. “People can’t know, not yet,” it’s not that she didn’t want people to know, of course, she does, more than anything. She misses her old life and her friends and family, but the fear of how they will react is overwhelming, everyone seems happy now and she can’t bring herself to disrupt that, no matter how much Lizzie says she should. “Besides Josie’s out of town it should be easier right now,” 

“Josie not being here isn’t the point,” the blonde snapped but she is cut off before she can continue by a wave of powerful magic sweeping through the city. The townies were none the wiser but it hit Hope like a ton of bricks, making her light-headed and confused. Lizzie cocks her head, she felt the surge but it didn’t affect her like it did Hope - like it did dozens of people throughout the town. “What the hell was that?” 

“I have no idea but I’m going to find out,” Hope growls, pushing their argument into the past and grabbing Lizzie by the arm to go find the problem. She scans the crowd, searching for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous that could be a threat.

Despite all her efforts, she misses the one thing that definitely should have caught her attention, Lizzie, however, stopped dead in her tracks. “Shit,” she hissed and yanked Hope back and behind a tree so they were hidden from view, “Oh my god.” a shocked Hope pulled away but Lizzie was stronger than she looked and Hope found that she couldn’t get away. 

“What is it?” Hope asked. But Lizzie shushed as she peered around the corner, trying to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. 

“So um-” Lizzie starts, “I think we have a little problem,” Hope finally managed to catch a glimpse at what Lizzie is staring at and she stops dead in her tracks. Across the park just close enough for Hope to make out are Josie and Freya, walking side by side with a  purpose, scanning the crowd of people. She stumbled back shocked and confused, Freya has no reason to be here, in fact, Hope’s entire ability to live this strange new life she was trapped in banked on Freya not being here. 

Lizzie started talking again but she couldn’t hear her over the rushing in her ears. She was getting odd looks from some of the people around her and she desperately tried to pull herself together. Could Freya have had something to do with the surge of magic just a moment ago and if so what did she do? 

The two were talking to each other like familiars as they searched the crowd and Hope found this odd. As far as she knew Josie and Freya had never met each other. What could they be doing together? The only link between the two was Hope except now they didn’t even have that.

Standing there and staring was where she made her mistake. They spotted her, or Josie did as she gripped Freya’s arm and directed her attention toward where she stood shocked. Suddenly she found herself unable to move. Their faces were unreadable as they beelined toward her, pushing and shoving through the dense crowd. 

Finally, Hope snapped out of it and stumbled backward, she’s actively trying to move away when Lizzie once again grabs her and holds her in place till the two women can reach them. “Breath Hope,” she muttered, doing her best to calm the tribrid so she doesn’t lose it in front of the entire town, Hope makes a mental note to thank her for that later. “You have to do this.” 

No. Nope. Not going to happen. 

This was one thing that she could not handle.

Facing her family was not an option, she’s attempted to go back to New Orleans many times since she came back but she’d never been able to make herself do it. Josie and Freya broke through the crowd and suddenly Freya was running full speed at her. Hope swears her heart dropped to her stomach and she pulls wildly against Lizzie. With a surge of her supernatural strength, she yanks her arm away and sinks back curling into herself and her aunt comes to a halt a few feet from her, and Josie was not far behind. 

Her breath was coming out in heaves, she felt like everything was being ripped from her all over again, “Hope,” Freya whispers like she trying to calm a spooked animal. Her voice is soft and familiar, like warm honey and for the first time, the thought occurred to Hope that she recognizes her. Her aunt’s face is filled with love and despair and worry and not the blank uninterest that Hope had feared. 

She stayed frightfully still as Freya inched her way forward, “It’s ok,” she muttered, reaching her hand out, “ You’re ok.” “Aunt Freya,” Hope gasped as her aunt’s hand came to rest on her cheek, but it came out more like a whimper. Her vision blurred with tears and her throat tightened as she fought back her emotions, “Do you know who I am?” she asked

“Of course,” Freya chuckled tears in her eyes also. They crash into each other like planets colliding and Hope feels safe and loved again after so long alone in the darkness. Her attitude shifted quickly, however, “ Hope what on earth were you thinking? You foolish girl, you should have come home the second you got back and we could have fixed this.” 

Guilt washed over her, “ I know I should have,” she mumbled, lowering her eyes to the ground, “ I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, I wasn’t strong enough,” the words slipped out before she could stop them. She’d never admitted that not even to herself, she prided herself on her strength and ability to handle difficult situations. 

“What do you mean?” Freya asked, pulling back to look into her eyes. The twins' eyes bore into her as she struggled to find her words. 

“I couldn’t handle you looking at me and not recognizing me -any of you,” she said softly, like admitting this shortcoming was an actual physical fault that she had and not a completely reasonable fear. She shivered in the cool evening air, “ I didn’t think I could survive it. What’s a Mikaelson without her family?” that question had been in the back of her mind since Clarke told her that she’d been erased. It rolled around like a stone in her head shattering her mental stability on a daily basis. 

Freya softened and brought her hand softly to tuck Hope’s hair behind her ear, “Darling, you may have been gone but you were never forgotten. There was a hole in our family and we may not have been able to place it but we knew something was wrong.” 

“I know, I know,” Hope stumbled, angry at herself for not trusting her family enough to go to them and fight for herself. 

“I’m not angry Hope, “ she said trying desperately to comfort the distraught young girl, “none of us are angry, I promise, we just want you safe.” 

Hope took a shaky breath, “ I’m ok,” it wasn’t a believable answer but it was a necessary lie that she had been telling herself for a long time now. 

Freya kept talking and Hope found comfort in the cadence and slight drawl of her voice,” We’ve fought for you your entire life and that doesn’t stop just because you manage to get yourself erased from existence - which might I add is quite incredible- but that isn’t how always and forever works.” 

Hope sinks back into her aunt’s arms, letting herself just be held, “ I love you aunt Freya, “ she mumbled, “ Always and forever.” 

“Always and forever darling.” 

She wished that moment could have lasted forever, but sadly all perfect peaceful moments must come to an end. She hears Josie gasp behind her and she pulls back to see Landon and Rafael approaching from the direction of the school. Landon was fed in the face and puffed up like a pufferfish as he stomped toward them. 

Her face turned a dark shade of red as Josie sunk back wrapping her arms around herself. Landon froze when he noticed who all was in the group he was heading to and then after a moment of contemplation he turned and walked the other direction. 

Hope releases a shaky breath, but whether it was relief or sadness she couldn’t tell. Josie seemed to have the same idea. Despite everything that had happened since they got here the two girls still hadn’t spoken to each other, Hope didn’t know what to say. Josie was one of the main reasons she’d kept her identity a secret, she didn’t want to hurt the younger girl, she was more than content to step back and let the two of them continue their relationship - well maybe not more than content but she had made her peace with it. Josie turned and fled the scene in the opposite direction of Landon, “Josie,” Hope called after her. She had no claim to comfort her, they were barely friends before everything and now things were worse than ever. 

Lizzie followed after her twin in a blonde flash and relief washed over her. Josie needed her sister right now. She didn’t need Hope. 

“I think I’m missing something here,” Freya commented, mildly cutting a strange look at her niece. 

“Please don’t ask,” Hope said, not willing to rehash all this just yet. Maybe soon she could talk about it but right now she just needed something stable. “Aunt Freya how long will you be in town?” she asked.

“However long you need me to,” Freya answered, slipping her hand into Hope’s and giving it a soft squeeze. 

She tried to force the storm brewing inside her to calm, she laid her head on Freya’s shoulder,” Do you have a place to stay? Do you have a hotel room?” The questions were odd but they were necessary.

“Not yet but I can get one. Why do you ask?” 

“Can I stay with you there please?” she asked meekly and once again averted eyes. She knew Freya wouldn’t say no but the shocked hesitation before her answer caused Hope to keep talking without thinking,” I mean I don’t mind the woods but it gets lonely out there you know.” she didn’t think about how she had been living the past few months would be a big deal if anything it was fairly obvious. She wasn’t living at the school anymore and with no money or compulsion powers, sleeping in the forest was the only option that would get her caught.

Her aunt’s eyes widened as she realized this, “ Hope Andrea have you been homeless in this godforsaken town?” a dark angry power radiated from Freya, and Hope worried that this town might pay the price for not keeping her safe. 

“Wolfed out in the woods is not the same as homeless,” she argued. Sadly that did nothing to placate her vengeful aunt.

She grabbed Hope’s hand and began to pull them away from the town square, “Come on Hope,” she nearly growls,” Let’s get you a room and I will sort this whole thing out.” 

[donteattheappleshook]

Stone Hearts Chapter 11/13

Here we go, only one more chapter after this and then the epilogue. This one is over 10,000 words so I hope you enjoy it!

Summary:

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.

Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 or FFn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Rated M

Chapter 11

Belle led them to a small, makeshift camp they had set up underneath the Town Hall. Emma had been right, there were tunnels that spread out through the entire town, and the one below Regina’s office was dead center. Ariel explained how there were secret entrances all over Storybrooke, that the three of them had been using them to navigate their way around, to collect supplies, to raid Gold’s shop and even Regina’s vault. Nearly every establishment in the town had an access point. 

Emma tried not to think about how creepy it was that Regina had a secret way of getting into any building at any time during the first curse. But it made sense - the Evil Queen would have wanted to make sure she was in complete control of her little prison. 

She followed the women, leading Killian along behind her. The whole way he kept casting strange looks at Ariel and Emma couldn’t figure out why. She wondered if perhaps there were new memories emerging, if maybe he was remembering what he had done to her in the Enchanted Forest. She thought they had put their differences aside. Ariel wouldn’t look at him, avoiding his gaze as they made their way to the camp and settled there. She squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. Old grudges didn’t matter now. Those things had to be put behind them. They had a common enemy now. 

“How long have you guys been down here?” Emma asked, looking around. The camp was surprisingly nice and Emma realised that they must have been settled here for a while. Their collection of supplies and the small comforts they’d amassed was impressive. They had stockpiles of food and medicine and even toiletries. There was also a very comfortable looking little pile of blankets and pillows that made up a sleeping quarter, and a makeshift table built out of an old door and books stacked for legs. 

Emma shouldn’t have been surprised by the sheer amount of books scattered around the tunnel. Belle was a librarian after all. And, you know… the actual Belle from the Beauty and the Beast. But Emma’s heart started racing as she noticed the massive pile of spellbooks. They were scattered across the table, several open with notes in the margins and dog-eared corners. Belle had been researching - just as she had. Maybe together they could find a solution, learn how to break the curse. 

“Tink and I have been here… almost 9 weeks now I think,” Belle told them. “We found Ariel on one of our raids a little over a week ago.” 

“I came to visit and couldn’t figure out where everyone had gone,” Ariel explained. “It was like a ghost town. I didn’t know what had happened but then I saw Belle and Tinkerbelle and they told me about the attack. I stayed to help them fight.”

Nine weeks, just over two months. Emma did the math in her head, trying to put together how much time had passed. Weeks and days had become a blur, irrelevant in her life but she thought back. Killian had been taken six weeks after the attack - she’d never forget that date - and then she, Ruby, Henry and David had survived on their own for two more without him, plus the week she’d just spent in captivity… that meant…

“You guys have been here the whole time? Since the attack? Nobody’s found you?” Had it happened? Had they finally found a safe place? A real one?

Belle nodded. “Hardly anyone knows about these tunnels. Those who did have forgotten. Rumple -” Her voice caught. “The Dark One didn’t even know about them.”

“How did you find them?” 

Belle shrugged. “I found one by accident once when I was working in the library. I didn’t think it was smart to share their existence. I was planning on finding a way to seal them off, in case a villain ever wanted to make use of them. I’m glad now that I didn’t.” She looked up at Hook who was still holding Emma’s hand. “I was going to ask Killian what he thought, see if he could find a way to destroy them. But then everything happened.” 

She looked at him sadly, and Emma realised that maybe Belle had missed him too. Hook however, was still fixated on Ariel, who was looking uncomfortable under his gaze. What was wrong with him? Was it because Ariel had threatened her? Was there more bad blood between them than Killian had told her? Was it enough that even now, buried under the stone around his heart, he remembered, or felt, some sort of animosity?

Emma set her bag down in the middle of the table, reaching in and taking out the food she’d grabbed before leaving the house as well as the other supplies. Killian stood behind her as she did, closer than he had been standing before and she felt the strange sense that he was being protective, watching her back. He didn’t know them. She’d told him to trust them but maybe it would take him time without his memories. She tried not to think of how it warmed her heart a little to know that he was still looking out for her.

“Here,” she said, gesturing at them. “Add these to your stocks. If we’re staying with you then we should at least pool our resources. 

“Thank you,” Belle said, and Tink and Ariel collected the supplies and started dividing them into the neat little stacks and towers they had built further along the far wall. Emma started to leaf through some of the books on the table. No wonder she hadn’t been able to find much - Belle had hoarded all the spellbooks in Storybrooke. 

“Killian,” Belle started, but the man beside her didn’t react. 

“Hook,” Emma corrected, and he caught her eye. She nodded towards Belle and he looked at her. Belle raised a brow but didn’t comment on the name.

“Could you help them please?” she asked. Hook turned back to Emma, hesitant and unsure. He stepped a little closer to her, clearly suggesting he wasn’t planning on leaving her side. Belle smiled a little. “I just want to talk to Emma alone for a moment.” 

Hook looked at Emma again and she gave him a small smile. “It’s fine.” He hesitated another moment and then gathered the supplies that were still on the table and headed over to the other women. Emma watched as he awkwardly stood by them and handed them things as they asked for them. 

“That’s quite the bodyguard you’ve got there,” Belle commented. Emma nodded.

“I don’t know how it started. The King caught me, kept me in a cell and kept him outside my door as a guard. But… I don’t know… he didn’t act like the others, even from the beginning.”

“How so?”

“He - he listened to me. If I asked him not to touch me or to find out if Henry was safe, he listened, he did it. And then I started telling him stories about me and Killian and he asked to hear more.” Emma frowned, realising how clear it had been from the start that Hook wasn’t like the others, that there was something more human about him than she’d seen in any other stolen person. How had she missed it? How had she let herself be so blinded by her anger and her grief and hatred that she hadn’t seen the bits of this man coming through?

“When did it start?” Belle asked. Emma frowned, trying to think, to see clearly through all of her doubts and denials. 

“I think,” she remembered how he reacted the first time she’d seen him, when she’d refused to let him touch her and he’d hesitated, how he’d reacted the next day when she’d gotten angry with him and he’d gone to check on Henry. “I think it was right from the start. I yelled at him and -” An amused, knowing smile crossed Belle’s face. “What?” Emma demanded. Belle pressed her lips together, trying to school her features but doing a poor job.

“Killian’s always had a type, hasn’t he?” she said. Emma frowned at her. “You know, we used to talk about you sometimes, when he would come visit me in the library or on his ship.” 

Belle had been staying on the Jolly Roger since they’d come back from the Underworld and her father had woken her from her sleeping curse. It had been one of the few places she’d felt safe from her husband after she learned she was pregnant. Emma and Regina had put up the protection spells themselves. Killian would go there some nights to spend time with her, to talk about books and the Enchanted Forest. But she knew he also went to make sure she was safe. She wondered if that was where she’d hidden when the first attack had happened.

“He told me that the first time he realised he liked you was when you threatened his life.” She smiled a bit and raised an eyebrow questioningly. “He said you tied him to a tree?” 

Emma shrugged. “It’s a long story.” 

Belle laughed. “The point is, Killian liked you because you were strong and you fought him. You stood up to him and challenged him - not many people have done that, you know.” Emma smiled. She did know that about Kilian. I quite fancy you from time to time, when you’re not yelling at me... Yeah right. “Maybe, this version of him isn’t so different,” Belle continued. “Maybe you yelling at him sparked something, found its way into the feelings that had been locked up. Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe,” Emma agreed then hesitated. She looked over at where Killian was now standing in front of a stack of books. He ran his fingers over the spines carefully. Belle followed her gaze and smiled curiously. “Something else changed,” Emma said. "Today." She looked back at Belle. “He’s started remembering things.”

“Like what?”

“He knew who Ruby was. He remembered Regina’s apple tree… he remembered his name - sort of.”

“Did anything happen today? Anything that could have triggered it?”

Emma blushed. “I kissed him.”

The smile Belle gave her was understanding and a little sad. “He’s your true love, Emma. Even if he’s buried under darkness and stone. And you’re the product of true love - that’s a powerful combination. Maybe you reached that part of him that’s trapped, helped him break through.”

“Like with Graham,” Emma said quietly to herself, remembering how kissing Graham had sent him on a quest to find his heart, believing he was someone else - he’d been right, she just hadn’t known it then. 

“Who?”

“Nevermind.” She didn’t want to get into that particular tragedy. She had enough loss to focus on already. “So what have you found out about the curse?” she asked, looking at the books again. Belle didn’t push her.

“It’s called the Stone Heart curse. It creates a prison around someone’s heart, locking away all their memories and emotions - effectively erasing their personality. In theory it kills the soul and leaves behind a sort of living-dead corpse, a shell that the one who cast it can feed orders into. The cursed are loyal only to that person, They’ll do whatever they ask. I think his cauldron is some kind of conduit. He can use it to communicate with all of them, tell them where to go and what to do.”

Killian came to join them now and Emma couldn’t help the way her body reacted when he walked up to her side and placed a hand on her back, as though it was something he did all the time. “Have you found a way to break it?”

Belle shook her head. “No. You’ve come closer to that than any of us have. The thing I don’t understand is what the King’s purpose is. Why is he doing this? What is the point of creating a living dead army if there’s no war to fight? There has to be more.”

Emma hung her head. “He was looking for me. For my heart.” 

Her eyes widened. “Your heart? But I thought your heart was protected.”

“It is. That’s why he kept me prisoner. He said he needed the heart of the product of true love and he wanted me to figure out how to remove it. The way he said it was weird though.” Emma paused, trying to remember the exact phrasing Gold had used, knowing that any details they had could help. “He said he needed 'the heart that belonged to the product of true love’.” 

Belle frowned, muttering to herself under her breath. “The heart that belongs to the product of true love.” Her eyes snapped up to Emma’s, shock registering on her face. She dashed across the tunnel - as much as she could in her current state - and headed over to another stack of books. 

“What is it?” Emma asked, following. Killian followed with her, like a magnet who was being pulled along. 

“I’ve heard that before. It was something I found Rumple looking into before we went to the Underworld. She tried to grab a book but it was weighed down by a few others that were out of her reach. Emma went to help but Hook was quicker, lifting them off with one hand. “Thank you,” Belle said with a little shock in her voice. She headed to the table and sat down, opened the book and flipped through the pages. She stopped, reading over one of them quickly. Her face lit up then, with success and surprise, and then it was replaced with fear and panic. 

“This is what he’s doing,” Belle said, turning the book around so Emma could see the pages. “Your heart is the primary ingredient in a spell that will allow him to break the laws of magic.”

Emma’s heart raced. “But that could mean…”

“He could do anything. Anything he wants. Bring people back from the dead, perform magic without a price, live forever… make someone love you.” 

Emma’s chest tightened, thinking of how Gold had been helping the King. She looked at the sadness on Belle’s face and reached for her hand. “We’ll save Gold. I know that he’s under the control of the King but if we can get his dagger we can -”

Belle stopped her. “He’s not under the King's control. Rumple has his dagger locked away where no one could ever find it, not even me. He -” she stumbled, her words catching in her throat. “He made a deal with him, of his own will.”

“How do you know?”

“He came to me the day before the attack. He found me on the Jolly and asked me to come back to him. I said no.” Tears were welling in her eyes and Emma’s heart went out to her friend, proud of her strength and her decision to choose herself despite how much it must have hurt to give up on the man she’d loved. “He said I would. That he’d find a way. That somehow, I’d love him again.” Belle’s tears fell. She put a hand over her swollen stomach. “That’s what he wants. To make me and the baby love him.” 

“Hey,” Emma said, taking her hand again between her own. “We won’t let him. We’ll figure out how to break this curse and then we’ll find his dagger. We’ll stop him. I promise.”

“He’d also… Emma, he could bring Neal back.” Emma fought against the way her heart raced, against the way a small part of her wanted that, not for her but so that Henry could know his father, so that Killian could see Balefire again. She knew how much his loss had hurt both of them. 

But she couldn’t let herself think that way. That kind of thinking made her just as bad as the King and Gold. It wasn’t worth the sacrifice of giving them that kind of power just to bring him back. She shuddered though, fearing what she might be willing to do if it meant bringing Killian back. She reached out for his hand. He was here. He was coming back to her. 

“We’ll stop them,” she said again and Belle let out a heavy breath. 

“Thank you.” She moved to stand. “I’ll go look through some of the books we found in Regina’s vault. Maybe there’s something more about what’s happening to Killian. Maybe we can find a way to -” She stopped. She’d been in the process of standing, awkward and clearly difficult for her to do from her low seat when suddenly Hook was at her elbow, steadying her, letting her use him for leverage as she got to her feet. She blinked at him. “Thank you,” she said and he nodded, letting her go. 

Emma’s heart leapt into her throat. It was another sign that Killian was in there. She’d been worried, still, that maybe some of Hook’s actions had only been because of this new version of him’s apparent affection for her. But Killian had loved Belle, Hook didn’t know her. But he was looking at Belle now with the same protectiveness and openness that Emma saw when he looked at her. She looked at the other woman and knew she’d seen it too. 

“Do you want to help us?” Belle asked and Hook cocked his head. “We’re going to look through as many of these books as we can to try and figure out what happened to you.”

“Why?” he asked. 

“So we can fix you,” Emma said. Hook looked at her now. 

“Am I broken?” 

She felt her gut twisting. Shit. Nice job, Emma. Belle stepped back, making a point to look very interested in the book on the table, offering them some privacy. How could she explain this to him? How could she explain that he wasn’t who he thought he was, that there was someone else trapped inside and that she wanted that person back? How did she explain that without hurting him?

“You know how you told me about your dream?” she asked.

“Yes. You were there. And the man.” 

“Yeah, that’s right. I think it was a memory. You had all of your memories stolen from you and we want to get them back so that you can remember everything else about your life, who you were before the King made you.”

He frowned, looking at the floor, taking in her words and then looked up at her again. There was that openness again. “Will I still remember you?”

Emma smiled, her eyes watering at the sweetness and the concern on his face. Yes, you’ll remember me, she wanted to scream. You’ll remember who you are and you’ll be the man I love again. She only nodded, worried that her voice would betray her.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.” She was going to step away, going to go find a book and get started, but the way he was looking at her kept her where she was. He was still an open book, even now. He looked so worried, so unsure, but still, he trusted her, believed that she wouldn’t wrong him. 

He still wasn’t Killian, not yet, but when she got him back - and she would get him back - she wanted to remember this version of him too, keep him in her mind with the other versions of him that she’d been lucky enough to know. And for now, for now this version of him needed her, needed her to believe in him, to protect him, to reassure him that things would be okay despite the risk he was taking. 

She took a step towards him, noticed the way that longing returned to his eyes the moment she was close, saw the way his breathing picked up just a fraction. She put her hand on his shoulder, balanced herself as she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. He turned into her touch, the same way Killian always did, and she smiled. He followed her as she pulled away, leaning forward, his hand brushing her arm but not taking it. 

He stood there, watching her as she and Belle made their way over to where Ariel and Tink were. “You’re right,” Belle said and Emma glanced up at her. “Something is definitely happening.”

“I’m sorry,” Tink said then. “I didn’t know. But I can see it now. I can see the way he’s looking at you.” 

“It’s okay,” Emma assured her. “I get it.” Tink still looked a little ashamed. “Really. I do.” She nodded.

“If it was going to be anybody,” Tink started, “it would be him. I’ve never seen anyone survive the way he does, never seen anyone fight that hard for the people he loves. I’m sorry I doubted him. I just -”

“I know. I miss him too,” Emma said and Tink nodded, her lips pulling into a thin line, fighting the emotion on her face. 

“Then let’s get him back,” Ariel said. 

Hook joined them and helped them carry as many books as possible to the table. They grabbed everything they thought could be useful. In addition to her spellbooks, Belle had amassed an impressive collection of storybooks. None of them like Henry’s, but novels and fairytales and myths and legends - anything that had some link to magic. 

For a brief moment, Emma was worried about whether or not Hook could read but he took a book at random and opened it, getting to work. But he didn’t stop casting glances at Ariel. She didn’t notice, her own head buried in her own book, but Emma did. She wished she knew what memory he had or what information he’d been given that made him so anxious around the mermaid. 

“What’s with you?” she whispered to him and he caught her eye. “Why are you glaring at Ariel?”

He continued to stare. “She seems… familiar,” was all he said in answer. 

“That’s because you know her - or you did know her,” she tried to explain. He frowned. “She’s one of us,” Emma said. “She’s on our side.” He didn’t look convinced. “Look, you and her… the old you and her had some issues. But you need to ignore that now, okay?” 

He relented finally, nodding. They returned to their task, all of them focused and frustrated as they found useless spell after useless spell. She had learned how to freeze a heart, how to crush one, how to control one, how to connect one to another, all sorts of different ways to curse hearts - but nothing about how to free one, how to chip away at the stone. 

She was getting antsy. Her leg bouncing rapidly under the table as she continued to be let down by book after book. She felt like she was about ready to scream. They’d already been at it for hours and the closest they’d gotten was a spell on how to draw water from a stone. Unhelpful. She’d also found the note that Gold had refered to. The only way to remove a protected heart, the heart of the product of true love, was for the one who was protected to break the spell. Of course it didn’t say how someone would go about doing that - no, that would be too easy. 

She felt a hand fall over her own, looked up to see Hook, his eyes still on whatever page he was reading, but his fingers closing over hers on the table between them. She didn’t even think he’d done it intentionally, like it was a reflex, an impulse, but it calmed her almost instantly, the calluses of his fingertips familiar and the warmth of his skin spreading through to hers. She turned her hand under his and he nearly startled before letting her intertwine their fingers. She smiled. So it had been a reflex.

“I think I need a break,” Belle announced finally and they took that as permission to stand and stretch. Belle looked at her. “You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” Emma deadpanned, only half joking.

Belle laughed. “I only meant you look like you could use some rest - especially him.” 

She gestured towards Hook and Emma took a closer look at him. Belle was right. He was pale and dark shadows were beginning to bloom under his eyes. She remembered how she’d woken to him crying out, loud enough that she could hear him down the hall, how he’d been sweating and tossing and turning when he woke up. They hadn’t had a particularly long day, but it had been a big one, especially for him. It was funny, she thought, she hadn’t remembered ever seeing him look tired before. She hoped it was another sign, another thing that proved he was becoming more human. 

“Maybe you’re right,” she agreed. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, regardless of how tired she was, but she wanted him to. She was also pretty sure that he wouldn’t go to sleep unless she went with him. He seemed pretty opposed to leaving her side. 

“You should rest too, Belle,” Tink said. Belle started to protest but the fairy gave her a stern look. “Your baby needs you to take care of yourself. Now go. Lie down and read it one of those bedtime stories you’re so fond of and try sleep a little. Ariel and I will keep watch.” Belle agreed but begrudgingly, putting her hand on her stomach and stroking it protectively. 

Belle led them to the pile of blankets and pillows they’d converted into a cozy little corner. Killian didn’t protest when Emma rose and pulled him along with her and she worried that maybe he was more exhausted than he was letting on. Maybe all of those nights not sleeping outside her door were catching up with him now. 

Belle lay down first, propping herself up against one of the walls and pulling a large book from under one of the pillows. Her Handsome Hero, Emma mused. This must have been the bedtime story Tink had mentioned. She smiled a little, it was fitting that Belle would start reading to her baby before he or she was even born. 

Emma lay down next to her and groaned at how nice it felt to lie down. She felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. They were safe - for the time being, a voice in her head reminded her, but she ignored it. They were somewhere that the King didn’t know existed, somewhere Gold didn’t know existed, and they had allies. They weren’t in this alone anymore. And Killian was coming back, with every passing moment he did something else that assured her that she’d find him. She just had to keep digging, keep looking for him, help him find his way back to her. 

Hook stood above her looking uncomfortable. There wasn’t room for much more than three people on the pillows and she wondered if he was remembering how she’d sent him away last night… but then, she’d also stayed with him until morning. He looked torn, like he wanted to join her but didn’t know if he was allowed, like he was waiting for permission or a command. She didn’t want to give him a command. She wanted him to decide what he wanted.

She sat up. “Are you gonna join me?” she asked and he looked at her, eyebrows shooting up in surprise for a moment before he nodded. He sat next to her and hesitated for a moment before lying down. He seemed to be doing his best to keep his distance, to avoid touching her. She didn’t like that. She took one of his arms that was folded over his chest and stretched it out on the blanket so that she could lay her head on it. She didn’t think she would sleep but the smell of leather and the familiar feel of his shoulder under her cheek might help. 

He hesitated for a moment and then slowly, the arm that she was using as a pillow curled around her, holding her to him. He was still for a long time and Emma listened as his breathing slowed and then evened out. She closed her eyes, listening to his breathing and to Belle’s story as she read aloud in a whisper, trying to find a little rest. It was useless. 

She rolled onto her side, facing Belle and froze when she felt Hook move again, rolling onto his side with her and wrapping his other arm around her, pulling her back against his chest. Her heart raced against her ribs. She looked up at Belle who had stopped reading and was looking at them with wide eyes. Emma frowned.

“What is it?” Belle asked, speaking quietly so as not to wake him. Emma took a moment, unsure how to explain the worries that still plagued her. She could barely explain them to herself, they were so confusing, everything about this was confusing. 

“I just… I don’t know what’s Killian and what’s Hook. When he does things like this I don’t know if it’s Killian breaking through or if it’s this new person developing… feelings.” It felt strange to say but she couldn’t deny the way that Hook had reacted to her, even before the kiss, before the crack in his heart. 

“Maybe it’s both,” Belle said. “I’m pretty sure that any version of Killian would fall in love with you. Maybe Killian breaking through has allowed Hook to care about you on his own, as his own person - but I don’t think that means that Killian is any less there,” she said. Emma nodded and Belle gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s okay to like him like this too, Emma. It’s not betraying Killian to feel something for Hook.” 

And there it was. Exactly what she’d been afraid of. Because she did like him like this. Of course she wanted him back - all of him. But she couldn’t fight the growing affection she had for the version of him that was with her now. He was kind and he was good and he cared about her and he was still so very much Killian, despite not having his memories. 

She remembered the way she’d had the same battle when she met the shy, nervous deckhand, when she met Captain Hook in the past. Each time, every Killian she met, she couldn’t fight the pull she felt towards him, the connection. And each time it felt like a betrayal. She swallowed, guilt eating at her even now. 

Belle reached for her hand. “True love is a powerful thing,” she said. “It transcends everything - time, space, magic, curses. I think that you and Killian are just fated to love each other no matter the circumstances. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Think of it as a gift. Not everyone gets to experience love like that.” 

Emma nodded, some of the tightness in her chest lightening. She was right. She couldn’t imagine a version of Killian she couldn’t love. She’d known him at his darkest, both when they first met in the Enchanted Forest and when he was under the power of the dagger. But she still loved him. And now, this version was no different. He’d had the darkness inside of him but he’d fought it - he’d fought it for her. 

She took hold of his hand that was splayed over her waist, pulled it up to her chest and held it there between her own. No matter the time, the place, the circumstances - she loved him and she would always love him. She just needed him to remember that he loved her. 

Belle grunted sifting and arranging pillows around herself, grumbling that she could never get comfortable anymore. Emma smiled, remembering the hell it had been to sleep when she was in the later stages of her pregnancy with Henry. She felt a pang in her stomach thinking about him now, about how much she missed him, how she hoped he was safe. She needed to find a way to break this curse, to get back to him and make him forgive her. She’d lost him once, when she was young and too afraid to fight for him. She wouldn’t lose him again. 

Emma frowned, watching as Belle shifted again, thinking of Henry… she froze. She could feel the blood rushing from her face. Shit. Shit. “How long did you say you’d been here again?” she asked. Belle looked at her, frowning.

“A little over two months,” she answered. Shit. She looked back at Hook behind her, tried to do the math in her head. When she looked back at Belle she had another one of those understanding, sympathetic looks on her face. “How late are you?” she asked. 

She didn’t even know. She’d lost track of all sense of time and what was normal and what was human in the weeks that had passed since the attack. She tried to think of everything that had happened since, how exhausted she was all the time, the way her mood swung from one extreme to another, the fluttering feeling she’d gotten in her stomach, thinking it was pain or guilt or grief - she’d fainted in the hospital a few days ago. Fuck. She’d chalked it all up to stress, up to a reaction to the absolute hell she’d been living in. But what if it wasn’t just that? 

“Late enough,” she answered.

Her heart was racing, her ears ringing, she couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t do this again. Not alone, not without Killian. She sat up, shrugging Hook’s arms from her, feeling claustrophobic. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not here. Not when everyone she loved was slowly being taken away from her. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Belle tried to sooth her. “Believe me, I understand.” Emma looked at her, tried to calm her pounding heart as Hook stirred behind her. He rolled onto his back but didn’t wake. Belle settled her, told her to breathe and slowly, Emma’s hands stopped shaking. She thought of all the times she’d put herself in danger, the reckless lack of regard she’d had for her own life since the King arrived. And now to know it might not have been just her life she was risking… 

“I can’t think about it,” she said, doing everything in her power to push the thoughts away. She didn’t even know if she was pregnant. And she couldn’t be right now. There was too much - it was too much. She looked at where the man next to her still slept. “I can’t do this alone,” she said, turning to Belle. 

“You won’t. You have us. And you'll have him. I promise.” Belle frowned at Killian then and Emma couldn’t read her expression.

“What?” she asked. 

“Do you think he knew?” she said and Emma’s brows shot up. “Killian, I mean.”

“Why?”

“I just - I know the love you can have to your baby before it’s even born. I have it now. I’m sure you had it with Henry. The love between a parent and their child, that’s true love in its purest form. If he knew… then he’d be fighting his way back to two true loves - that’s a powerful pull. Enough to break a curse.” Belle looked at Killian again, tilted her head. “And even now, he’s so protective of you…” 

Had Killian known? Had he figured it out before she had? She wouldn’t put it past him. He was a very perceptive man. And he wouldn’t have said anything, not in the state she was in then - he knew her, he knew she couldn’t handle this, not now. But he’d protected her, kept her safe, kept her healthy… He was continuing to do it now, even buried under rock and darkness. 

Later, when Emma had had a bit of time to come to grips with the possibility of being a mother again, and to rise above the panic and the fear that possibility brought with it, Belle asked her how she felt about it. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you want to be pregant? Do you want to have another child? Are you happy?”

That was a hard question. If she’d been asked two months ago she’d have said yes. Of course, yes. She loved Killian, she knew he wanted this, she wanted it with him. They were in love, happy, together. But now, now she didn’t know. She was too afraid of having to do it alone, too afraid that they wouldn’t defeat the King before this kid showed up and then what kind of world would that be for her to raise it in? 

“I don’t know.” 

Belle nodded. “I understand,” she said, her hand coming to her stomach. “But, life goes on doesn’t it? Despite everything, all the horribleness that gets thrown at us, it’s still life. We need to seek out the good and hold onto it or we’ll lose ourselves to the bad.” 

Emma nodded. She tried to think of how she’d feel if this wasn’t happening now. She was happy. It was a confused, complicated kind of happy, one that brought with it more anxiety than joy, but she was happy. She looked at the man laying next to her, the one who had protected her since she’d met him. She loved him so much that it hurt. She loved them both and she needed to do whatever she could to keep this version of him safe and save Killian. She needed Killian to share this with her, knew how much it would mean to him, how much he wanted it. Emma reached out, brushed his cheek gently. 

“Come back to me,” she begged for what felt like the hundredth time. She lay her head down on his chest, wrapped her arm around him and held him tight. “Come back to us.” 

***

They were woken later by Ariel shaking her shoulder gently. Emma blinked up at her, wondering what time it was, how long she’d slept. “What is it?” she asked and a playful smirk crossed Ariel’s face. 

“Want to go on a raid?” she asked. Emma looked up, Belle and Tink were sitting at the table again, discussing something intensely. 

“A raid where?” Emma asked, sitting up slowly, trying not to wake Hook. 

“I found something.” Emma’s heartrate picked up, feeling suddenly very awake. Ariel smiled. “One of the books made mention of a magical object that could break any curse. A dagger that can sever magic from an afflicted person’s body.” 

Holy shit, this was really something! Something that could help them, could maybe free Killian, free her parents, free everyone. She leapt up, jostling Hook as she did and he bolted to a seating position, looking between the two women. She ignored the way he wrapped a protective arm around her, shielding her from whatever threat he thought might have woken him. 

“Where is it?” Emma asked, brushing Hook’s arm away and standing. He stood with her.  

Ariel’s smile widened. “On the Jolly Roger.” 

“Wait, what,” she demanded, shocked and confused. “Killian had it?” 

Ariel shook her head. “Not Killian, Blackbeard. When he had possession of the ship he hid treasure all over it. I remember seeing a dagger that looked exactly like the one described in the book. I don’t even think he knew what it was, just another prize.” 

“What are we waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s go!” Hook moved to follow her and she hesitated, not sure if he would be a help or a hindrance, not sure what was going on between him and Ariel, but also not wanting to be separated from him - not again. Ariel must have seen her hesitation.

“Bring him,” she said. “Maybe the Jolly Roger will help spark some memories. And,” she hesitated, like she felt bad about her next words. “He knows how they think. If we run into any shells he could help.” 

Emma turned to him. “Will you come with us?” she asked. He nodded, took her hand. She smiled. “Good.” 

The tiny, hesitant smile he gave her in return was familiar and made her heart race even now. She would be careful, she promised herself. She had two people to protect now. But she needed to go, had to go if there was a chance that this dagger could save him. She nodded for Ariel to lead the way. 

“Be careful,” Belle said as they headed to the stockpiles and armed themselves. Emma was happy to find a gun. She could use a sword but at the end of the day, a gun was familiar and more reliable. She tucked it into the back of her jeans. She tried not to smile as Hook found a sword and secured it to his hip.

“Take care of her,” Ariel told Tink. 

Belle frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not a child,” she said. 

“No, but you’re carrying one,” Tink reminded her. She still didn’t look pleased. 

“We’ll take the tunnels,” Ariel told her as they headed down in the opposite direction of the way they’d come in this morning. “If we magic there in broad daylight we could draw their attention.” Broad daylight? Had they slept all night? 

“There’s an entrance that comes up in the warehouse,” she continued. “If we’re quick, and careful, we should be able to stay hidden through the covered docks, climb down to the water and swim to the Jolly Roger.” Emma wanted to groan. Of course the mermaid would suggest swimming. At least it wasn’t winter. 

They made their way through the tunnels until they reached what Ariel said was the right exit. Thankfully Storybrooke wasn’t a very big town and Ariel seemed to know her way well enough. They came up through a trap door in the harbormaster’s office, making sure to crack it open and be sure nobody was around before climbing through. 

“Be careful. They usually have three guards to each post,” Emma said.

“Four,” Hook corrected and she turned to him. “Four guards. Three visible and one hidden. For backup. Or to deliver a message back.” She raised a brow at him, not only was that the most he’d spoken yet, but she was surprised at how much he knew, she’d somehow forgotten he was one of them so recently. He only shrugged. 

“Okay, four. Do you know where they are?” she asked. He smiled and it was the most Killian-like smile she’d seen since she met him, full of mischief and a little cocky. He nodded. 

“They guard the shore, not the water.” 

That meant they were behind them. They wouldn’t have to face any of the shells if they avoided making enough comotion to draw their attention. Emma smiled at him and he looked so proud it made her smile more. 

Carefully, they made their way down to the edge of the water and ditched their boots. Emma tried not to make a sound as the freezing cold water hit her. She could handle this. The Jolly wasn’t far off, maybe a few hundred feet. She was a strong swimmer and so was Killian and, well, Ariel was a mermaid so they should be fine. They allowed her a moment to get used to the cold, to lose the heaviness in her limbs and be able to breathe easily again before they started making their way to the Jolly. 

They reached the side of the ship and grabbed hold of the nets that hung down it’s side, starting the slow, steady climb onto the deck. Hook climbed expertly to her annoyance, occasionally reaching out to steady her with his hand on her back when she lost her balance on the uneven terrain that moved every time she reached up. He was doing it one handed too. 

She was reminded of the beanstalk, of how they’d climbed together then, how this wasn’t so different. Both of them on a quest to find a magical object that would reunite her with those she loved. Killian was still Hook then, still someone who had only just chosen her over the evil he’d to whom he'd promised his allegiance. She knew better now though. She could trust him. And she would. 

They finally made it on deck, Emma taking just a moment to flop down on the wood, exhausted. Hook reached it just after her, smiling down from his spot standing next to her head. He reached his hook down and she grabbed it, let him haul her up to her feet. 

“We should split up,” Ariel said. “Search the ship. Blackbeard would have hidden it well. He didn’t like anyone coming near the things he’d stolen. Especially anything that could be valuable.” 

Emma nodded, and Ariel suggested she start with the deck and Emma with the captain’s cabin since she was the one here most familiar with it at the moment. It was understood that Hook would come with her. Ariel said she’d start with the healm, knowing that Blackbeard had a habit of hiding things where he could keep them close. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself?” she asked.

Ariel brushed her concerns off. “If anything happens I’ll jump overboard. They won’t find me in the water. I can swim away or stay under until they give up.” 

Emma agreed reluctantly and she and Hook made their way carefully down below deck. She felt safer now that they weren’t out in the open, but she still worried for Ariel out there alone. They were in the galley, the crew’s sleeping quarters to the left and Killian’s room to the right. She figured his room would be the best place to start. 

Hook was looking around with a strange expression on his face. It was the same look he’d had when they were in their home, in Regina’s office. Like he was trying to put the pieces together but couldn’t. She hoped it felt familiar, hoped it would spark something. 

She led him towards his room, only making it halfway down the narrow hall when Hook shushed her, his whole body going stiff. He reached for his sword. 

“Someone’s on deck,” he said. She heard it then, the creaking of the boards above them. Her heart leapt into her throat, her body suddenly on high alert. He was right, she could hear it, footsteps above them. Not Ariel’s, the helm was at the bow of the ship, the sounds were coming from the stern, but they were making their way to the front quickly.

“Are they usually on the ships?” she asked, her heart racing, hoping he’d have an idea of how many people they were facing. 

He shook his head, “Never.” 

Oh crap, she thought as she realised - They were looking for him. If they’d suddenly posted guards to the Jolly Roger then that meant that they were expecting him to come back, maybe expecting her to bring him back. She should have expected this, should have seen it coming. They needed to get off the ship. They needed to get to Ariel, save her before she was caught unawares. 

“Hurry,” she said. “We need to help her.” 

He jumped to action, heading back to the stairs and she rushed after him. They climbed back up on the deck, hiding for a moment in the stairs to try see how many there were. She could see three. Hadn’t he said four? That meant there was another somewhere. 

She motioned to two of them, indicating that he should take them on while she took the third. She should have grabbed a sword. She couldn’t use her gun now, it would draw too much attention. Stupid. She thought. How had she been so stupid? Hook nodded and headed up first. She followed after him. 

He cut down the first before he had time to make a sound. He was rounding on the second as Emma tackled the third, knockin him to the ground and whacking him in the head with the butt of her gun as hard as she could. His head fell against the wood with a hard thump. She looked back up and saw Hook standing over the second shell. She almost smiled before she heard the scream. 

Ariel. She and Hook cast a glance at each other before running off towards the sound. When they reached it there were two more, each holding one of her arms as she struggled in their grasp. Emma charged, gun raised, they’d been found out now anyway. She took a shot, getting one in the shoulder and wounding her enough that she flew back with the force of the bullet. 

She kept her distance as she circled the second one, keeping her back to the railing, trying to get a shot but he kept Ariel between them as a shield. She heard a sixth running towards them, saw as Hook whirled around to take him down, their swords clashing. But Hook was a better fighter, he was always the better fighter. She nearly had her shot. 

“Emma watch out!” Ariel screamed and she barely had time to follow her gaze to the woman she’d shot down, aiming her own gun straight at Emma’s heart. She  heard the shout of Hook’s ‘no’ echoing across the water, heard the crack of the bullet leaving the chamber. She waited for the impact but before it could come he was there, throwing himself between her and the bullet.

“Killian!” she screamed as he was thrown back by the force of it, falling over the railing and crashing into the water below. She didn’t even know if she screamed, she didn’t think, just threw herself over the edge after him. She hit the icy water, ignoring the way it constricted her lungs and numbed her limbs. She opened her eyes, searching. Where was he, where the fuck was he? 

She found him, sinking deeper, his eyes shut, his body lifeless, blood turning the water around his stomach red, seeping out into the darkness around him. She swam, kicked and dived, her lungs screaming at her, her eyes burning from the salt. Just get to him. She couldn’t lose him again. Not now, not like this. 

She reached him, wrapping her arm around his chest, under his arms and slowly making her way up to the surface. But he was too heavy. She had nothing to push off of and she was running out of air. The surface was too far away. She kept pushing, kept kicking but she knew she wouldn’t make it. 

If she hadn’t been underwater she would have laughed when she saw Ariel dive in beside them, saw her spot them and swim over. Arielgrabbed hold of one of Hook’s arms and Emma grabbed the other. Together, they heaved him up. 

Emma gasped as they broke the surface, not even taking a second to appreciate the air in her lungs because Hook hadn’t taken a breath. She leaned back, holding him to her chest, keeping his face out of the water. She put her fists to his sternum and squeezed harshly, a desperate, relieved sound leaving her when he spit out water, coughed and gasped desperately for breath. 

“Emma,” Ariel said, getting her attention. “Can you get us back to the tunnels?”

She nodded, focusing, struggling as she tried to balance calling on her magic, stretching it out to include Hook and Ariel, and focusing on keeping herself above water, on not panicking at the fact that Hook was still shot, still bleeding out, that he wasn’t out of the woods yet. It took a moment but the white smoke surrounded them and suddenly they collapsed to the ground, soaking wet, in the middle of the camp. 

“What happened?” Belle shouted, she and Tink rushing to their sides. Both of them turned their attention to Hook. He’d stopped coughing, his breathing coming in shallower and shallower bursts. Emma didn’t answer, let Ariel explain. She had to save Hook. 

You idiot, she thought. She wanted to scream at him. Why would you do that! He’d jumped in front of a fucking bullet for her, had nearly drowned, had nearly left her. She brought her hands to his stomach, over the wound there. She tried to rein in her panic at the amount of blood that stained her shaky hands, flowing out of him freely and quickly with each beat of his heart. He groaned at her touch but it was weak. 

Emma shut her eyes, focused on him, on Hook, Killian, whoever he was. It didn’t matter who she was saving. She needed them both. She loved him, all of him, and she focused on that love, let it pour out of her heart and into her blood, let it course through her veins and into her skin where she touched him. A golden glow shone there and she opened her eyes, watched as some of the paleness left his face, as his breathing evened out, the blood slowing. 

She lifted her hands, pulled open his shirt and vest so that she could look at the wound. It was gone. Not even a scar left. The only evidence it had been there at all was the blood that was slowly rolling off his stomach with the water. She broke down, finally let her fear and the fact that he’d almost died again crash over her. She fisted her hands in the open collar of his shirt and bent over him, let her forehead fall against his chest as a sob wracked her body. He was alive. He was alive. He was still here. 

She felt his arm come up around her, felt his hand rub soothing, and hesitant up her back and she remembered she was angry with him. How could he have been so careless, so reckless with his life? How could he have been so stupid? He’d nearly died, he’d nearly left her again. She wouldn’t have survived it. And now she wasn’t the only one who needed him anymore. 

She stood, storming off under the guise of wanting to wash the blood off her hands. She’d seen some wipes in one of the stockpiles and she found them, ripping the packet open and rubbing aggressively at the stains on her skin. There was so much of it. She’d almost lost him. She heard him coming up behind her but she didn’t turn around.  

“Thank you,” he said and she tensed. She didn’t want his thanks. She wanted him to not be a fucking idiot and throw himself in front of guns for her. She didn’t answer him, kept working on cleaning her hands. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked. She felt the fury rising up inside of her, she couldn’t stop herself, she whirled on him.

“Yes, you did something wrong!” she snapped, anger taking the place of the fear and the pain that seeing him like that had caused. Anger was easier, anger didn’t hurt as much. “How could you do something so stupid, so dangerous?” she demanded. “You almost got yourself killed!” He looked down at his feet, worried the end of his hook. She stared at him, panting in her rage, waiting for him to say something, something she could yell at him for again. 

He looked at her and her breath caught in her throat. She knew that look. He was looking at her the way Killian always looked at her, the way he looked at her before she let him in, before she admitted she loved him, after he admitted he loved her. Her anger faded away, snuffed out by the affection and the dedication in his expression. It was overwhelming after not having been looked at like that for so long. 

“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” he said and her chest tightened. “Not you.” He stepped forward, always hesitant, always unsure. “I - I don’t understand it but,” he frowned, his face screwing up under the effort of trying to find the words. “You make my chest hurt,” he said and it was her turn to frown. “You make my chest hurt and my stomach twist and when you’re far away it hurts more.” He reached out, brushed her arm, let it trail down to her hand where he wrapped his fingers around hers. “When I touch you it stops hurting. I don’t want to let go.” He squeezed her fingers. “I couldn’t let you get hurt. I don’t know - I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” Emma looked into his eyes and was nearly knocked back by the emotion there. “I need you,” he finished. 

It was a clumsy declaration, an awkward explanation. Killian had always been good with words, she was usually the one to stumble over her feelings. He didn’t understand what he was feeling but it didn’t matter, she did. He loved her. This version of him loved her, Hook did, and he had risked his life for her, to protect her. And she’d yelled at him. He loved her. She could feel tears stinging her eyes. Belle was right, any version of them, in any universe, they would find each other, they would love each other.

She reached for him, brought his lips down to hers and kissed him. She kissed him to say thank you, she kissed him to say she was sorry, and she kissed him to say she loved him - in a way that he would understand. His arms came around her as he pulled her close, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe but she didn’t care as his lips moved over hers with an intensity and a rightness that had been missing from their last kiss.

She felt it when it happened, felt the light burst from between them, the shock of magic that blew out, surged through her and filled the room, scattered out beyond the walls and out into the world. She stumbled back, knocked over by the force of it. She held on to him as he tumbled with her, trying to steady herself. When she looked at him again it was Killian looking back at her.

“Swan?” he said. 

Emma let out a sob, throwing herself at him with so much force that it knocked him back a step. He caught her, letting out a surprised ‘oomph’ when she pressed her lips to his again, kissing him over and over to make sure he was real. He was here. He was back. He’d come back to her. 

“I knew you’d do it, Emma,” he said when she released him so that she could wrap her arms around him, tuck her head under his chin and feel him pull her close, feel his fingers run through her hair. “I knew you’d find me.” 

They turned as the others came running, looks of shock and excitement and bewilderment on all their faces. She released him but grabbed his hand, not ready to let him go just yet.

“What happened?” Ariel asked, looking between the two of them. 

“We did it,” Emma said, not able to keep the happy laughter from bubbling up in her voice. “We broke the curse!” 

“How?” Tink asked. 

“True love’s kiss," Belle smiled. "The most powerful magic in the world.” She stepped forward, pressed her lips to Killian’s cheek. His ears went red. “It’s good to have you back, Killian.”

“Is it really you?” Tink asked and Killian smiled at her.

“Aye, Tink, it’s really me.” 

She jumped forward, slamming into him and throwing her arms around him, squeezing him tight before remembering herself and stepping back, looking embarrassed. 

“This is wonderful news,” Ariel said. “I’m so glad you figured it out.” And with that, she plunged her hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. 

[mizukiri]

Penny Dreadful - Chapter One:

DECEMBER 16TH 2028

 "Hello Urchin." He softly greets her, and Penny needs to remind herself that her father and Linda have been worried sick about him. 

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Penny continues in her cold disapproving tone while she nears Lucifer, her arms crossed. Her previous quadruple D (drunk-dead-demon-dude) is not forgotten so easily. 

Lucifer's brilliant white wings are a vision to behold, as usual, flexing to their grandest state before he tucks them away into their incorporeal-other-dimension form. His black suit reveals no signs of wear, although there are traces of blood on his dress-shirt collar. He smells of brimstone and smoke again, and she's pretty sure she knows exactly where he's been for the last six months.

"I considered you may react as such, and I can explain." He tells her, holding up his hands submissively as she continues her march towards him. At twenty, she knows she has always terrified him, but instead of binding him with the torturous embraces of her youth, she seizes his elbow and turns him on the heels of his Louboutins towards her original bounty.

"You can explain as we follow one of your friends. I assume that's what this is about." As soon as the words are out of Penny's mouth, he roots himself and her momentum has her turning to face him.

"I'm afraid that we share a mutual interest in your target—"

"Fuck—"

"Pardon? My child I have no need—"

"WHATINTHEACTUALHELLPENNY?!" Seems to come out in one singularly loud breath, as though she is angrily singing her way over to them. For the briefest of moments when he appeared, Penny had forgotten her. But Lucifer had a way of causing that within her, visions of tackling him repressed deep in her heart.

"Penny?" Lucifer lifts a brow at Beatrice Penelope Jane Espinoza, standing in front of him.

"Want to go there right now Sam?"

"Duly noted." The corner of his mouth curls up, and he bows his head gently at her.

Vae swallows, her eyes bright and wide. Penny can see she is breathing erratically solely from the steams of breath coming from her mouth.

"And who might your uh, angel-winged-five-seconds-ago-and-now-clearly-not, friend be?"

My mom's partner. Satan? My step-devil? That had always been Penny's favourite moniker he held, but she decides against it in this instance. 

"Vae. This is my stepfather I was telling you about," and she swears out of the corner of her eye she can see Lucifer stand a little taller (if that's even possible) and smile.

"You speak of me?"

"Of course, dummy." Penny gives him a dubious look. "How on Earth can I get around that?"

Vae starts to giggle, her whole face going red as she looks back and forth between Penny and Lucifer. 

"Right, of course. Are we still not going to address the issue I'm currently having with the ethereal white wings?" Vae is doing that thing she does with her whole arm when she's circling a situation in front of her that she needs to get to the bottom of. Penny also registers that she is looking at her step-devil with a longing that Penny has watched women project for as long as she can remember. But Vae also seems far more interested in finding out precisely what she had seen more than throwing him to the snowy ground.

Penny looks over to Lucifer and sighs.

"Lu...ook Dad, could you maybe, help a daughter out and explain to my roommate and longest friend, since I left home... exactly, what she may have seen?"

Lucifer's eyes travel between the two young ladies in front of him, and his shoulders sink as he resigns to Penny's request.

"Right. Well, first— is it possible to meet you back at the loft? I never actually allowed Hell to freeze over and while immortal I'm not impervious to this..." and she watches him wave his hand with fluid grace at the snow falling around them, "temperature."

A brisk wind picks up, and she watches as he fights a shudder standing there in nothing but his suit. They're wasting time, and he doesn't seem to be that concerned about her quadruple D. 

"Are we not tracking... someone?"

"You might be Urchin. But I have no clue what you are talking about."

"Well that's just fucking perfect. Isn't it?" 

Scowling, Penny turns from him and takes Vae by the arm, turning her back towards the park entrance. 

"Come on Vae," Penny sighs, "Let's go home."

"What about—" And the sound of Lucifer leaving interrupts Vae, who was turning around to address him.

"Right. Wings."

~***~ 

"Are we not going to talk about the fact that your stepfather has wings? Like straight up, gorgeous angelic—"

"We'll talk about it when we get home," Penny tersely answers. They are almost halfway home before Vae has seemingly come down from whatever level of shock she had been suffering from. Vae feeling better, however, also means Vae being her usual talkative self. 

"How about the fact that he smelt like sulphu—"

"We'll talk about it when we get home." 

Penny relishes in a brief reprieve before Vae starts again. 

"He said 'allow Hell to freeze over.' "

"We'll talk—"

"He said immortal."

"—about it when we get home."

"I guess the immortality makes sense. I mean when I was processing it all, images of your Mom as a hot cougar or having you when she was like twelve kept popping up."

"Vae."

"Nicely done by the way, Penny's mom because DAAAAAAMN girl, your dad—"

"Vae."

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell me you want to sleep with my stepfather." 

"Don't you?" 

"NEVAEH!" 

"Oh please. You have eyes," and Vaeh dramatically rolls hers before crossing her arms and adding, "don't pretend you don't know that kink exists."

Penny remembers when they had boundaries. Vae did warn her, but Penny wasn't expecting L.A. to catch up with her so fast.

 ~***~

 In her bedroom, she finds Lucifer, freshly showered, and redressed in a crisp white dress shirt covered in a grey cashmere sweater. He's brushing his hair in her vanity mirror when he sees her. 

"I see you found the extra clothes Linda sent me in your in my closet." Penny tells him, sighing and leaning up against the doorframe. 

"I would have preferred more than just one suit, and a Burberry at that. If it's black it might as well be Prada. Nonetheless I appreciate the good Doctor thought of something a tad warmer. Now, your friend—"

"Vae."

"Vae, what exactly is you're expectation?"

Penny sighs. "I don't expect you to lie, if that's what you're asking."

"Yes," and he places her brush down before rubbing the bridge of his nose impatiently, "but what, for your sake my dear, am I omitting here?"

"Just, take it as it comes. She thinks Mom is dead or maybe has dementia? It's easier when they don't straight out ask. She knows you were missing; she saw your wings, and she knows me as Penny. The name we chose when we agreed I was being stationed here undercover, so... that being said."

"Right. Well as you know time in Hell moves much differently than here—"

Penny cuts him off. "Yes. Yes. Millenia’s, probably ten. Put it back in the deck Lucifer. You're choice this time."

"Right..." He stares off beyond her and nods, swallowing. "Well, I'll do right by you Urchin, as best as your favourite celestial parent can." 

"That's... not fair, regardless of how accurate, in the moment."

"Well, we're all doing our best."

"Are you? Because after Vae goes to bed you and I," Penny practically snarls, "are going to have our own conversation about how you abandoned training Charlie—"

"About that—"

"—After being an absolute asshat to both Dad and Maze." 

"So, you heard about that did you?"

"And you know how I got to hear about that? From a very concerned Linda who took your note to mean something COMPLETELY different than what I think you intended."

"I was TRYING to communicate!"

"Then the same day I receive three bloodied feathers from Maze, after a text that read, and I quote, 'A gift from the King of Fuckery.'"

"Oh, so you got my gift!" He exclaims.

A giggle echoes from the floor below, and Penny steps out of her room to see Vae waiting for them in the living room. Turning back, Penny leans in towards him.

"Lucifer?" She whispers harshly.

"Yes, my dear."

"You have ten seconds to get downstairs or so help me Mom you're going to lose more than three feathers."

 ~***~

 Vae sits in Penny's favourite chair, where she keeps her knife and scotch, sitting on her knees. Her hands are placed in her lap like a child waiting for their instructor this evening, amber brown eyes wide with wonder.

She had always imagined Penny had some insanely wild upbringing. Vae had fantasized that it involved chauffeurs and private jets, boarding school and the social elite. 

Months ago, Vae had found a hidden photo of what she had assumed was Penny's incredibly beautiful parents, all surrounding her as she blew out nine candles on a cake. It had been tucked in Penny's dresser and had been accidentally seen while putting Penny's socks away. So when Vae witnessed him appear out of nowhere, with ethereal white wings, she had assumed that he was Penny's father. Their colouring had seemed to her, the most similar.

But this?

Vae isn't a private investigator, but she has always been keenly inquisitive and observant as far back as she can remember. That and an hour trip back home? She's pretty sure she's figured out some details. 

He said Hell. He said immortal. No one denied angel wings.

Penny is sitting closest to her on the couch, her feet tucked up underneath her as she takes a knife and soap carving out of the end table that separates them. Vae watches while Penny takes the tumbler of scotch and pours him a glass. He takes it graciously from her and sips, slightly wincing.

"I'm not legal yet. It's not like I have Macallan or Woodford Reserve on hand." Penny tersely tells him.

Penny's impossibly-handsome-most-likely-an-angel-possibly-the-devil stepfather crosses, then re-crosses his legs, placing his hands over his knees and exhaling loudly. 

"Alright Vale,"

"Vae—"

"Vae, what would you like to know about?"

"Wings. Angel?"

"Once."

That adds up. Vae looks over at Penny, who is doing an excellent job of pretending her soap carving is far more interesting than the conversation happening in the room currently. Vae swallows down the silence. There is one part that isn't making much sense to her.

"And Penny called you Sam."

"For Samael. The name Father gave me."

"Father as in God?"

"The only Father I've ever had."

"Right."

Silence once more. Penny's impossibly-handsome-definitely-a-fallen-angel-was-there-a-Sam-name-for-the-devil? Stepfather holds her gaze with a wry smile plastered on his face, but she senses sadness in his eyes. He told her his name, so why does she feel if she were to refer to him as Sam, it would bother him immensely? 

"Why do I feel like I'm being lied to?"

"I do NOT lie Miss Vae, friend of my daughter." 

"What should I call you then sir?"

He looks at Penny, and she sighs before saying. "She's going to find out sooner or later."

"Lucifer Morningstar."

Vae's signature giggle of wonderment springs forth in awkward waves. Lucifer laughs, charmingly along with her, but Penny, Penny, chooses to remain silent if the point needs to be driven home. Vae's eyes go slightly bigger as the realization hits, and then...

And then she's laughing hysterically, a gasping wheeze as tears are falling out of the corners of her eyes.

"Vae?" 

"It's natural Urchin, although the delay seems to be a new variable, almost all humans go slightly mad at the sight of divinity."

Vae finds this even more amusing and is holding her side and going slightly red.

"I didn't." 

"Yes well, you were never for following norms were you dear?"

"Vae?!"

"I'm sorry..." Vae manages to get out, "I'm sorry Penny... but... You don't like taking the Lord's name in vain?" And she's back to dying of laughter as she tries to spit out, "But then you called him a flying fuck?!"

"Once." Penny's eyebrows almost lift into her hairline as she turns to Lucifer, her hand holding the blade lifts a finger in protest. "Maybe twice. And sorry-not-sorry."

"So, let me get this straight Miss Vae, you just found out that celestials, divinity, God, and the Devil are real, and your reaction seems to be one of mocking my adopted offspring?"

Vae nods her head fervently. "You can't see the humour in this? How can you NOT see how bullshit-cuckoo-bananas this all is?"

"Oh, so you’re merely mocking me, and calling me a liar," and flames are alight in his eyes. 

"Lucifer!" Penny chastises. 

But whatever Lucifer's desired effect may have been, it doesn't seem to have worked because now Vae is practically falling out of the chair laughing at Lucifer and Penny. 

"YOU DO THE EYE THING EVEN!"

"Urchin, I don't know if I have the fortitude to handle this ridiculousness much farther."

"They literally relaunched the Diablo television series last year, and she wouldn't let me talk about it at ALL with her! I mean Penny even told me that all her parents worked in law enforcement in some way or another. So, I mean, while I'm aware this is my current reality. You can't blame me for thinking I've had a stroke and have woken up today to live in this fairy tale wouldn't you agree?"

Lucifer leans back on the couch and takes another sip of the scotch.

"This is so unfair, Penny. This whole time we kept listening to Rose and David talk about future religious upbringing for their non-existent progeny at our dinner party and you didn't even mic drop them? And we have lived together for almost a year, and this is how I find out? What the Hell was going on back there? What were we chasing? Why does Satan have bad ass angel wings? I mean I'm an arts major and I've heard of the Gentlemen Devil archetype but this," and she waves her arm at Lucifer. He is sitting there, his hair in light curls from no product, a five o'clock shadow already appearing even though he seemed to have shaved before they got back.

"This, I gotta say seems a tad on the nose."

"Archetypes exist for a reason Miss Vae."

"I'm not finished." Vae tells him, and he appears shocked by her blatant rudeness. "—sir, Morningstar sir. Sorry. But again... but I'm going to roll with it."

"Like do I watch that show and I know your entire life story? Is that on purpose? How did you meet Penny's Mom? I know she said you were partners for years before you got together. I thought you guys had married, does the Devil write vows? Is it before God? Do Satanists get it right, or do you despise them?"

"Vae—"

"If you're here what's going on with Hell? Wait are Hell and Heaven real? You don't seem evil; do you work with God? That's what always threw me off... why punish the bad if you're all about it am I right?"

"Vae—"

"Urchin, dear, let me." Lucifer says, holding his hand out gently in Penny's direction and placing the glass of Scotch on the table in front of him. He turns his gaze back towards Vae and smiles.

"No. No. Through a case. We were partners four years before we became partnered. Yes. Yes, I wrote them and yes. They get some right and some wrong, like every being and organization on the planet, and yes because I abhor most organizations that misinterpret the truth. I am here, meaning Hell has no ruler currently, and yes both are very real." He pauses to take another sip of the scotch Penny poured him but does not seem to wince this time at the lacklustre taste, "I am pleased to hear that you skipped past the exam's evil portion. So yes, I punish the wicked, those whose guilt sends them to my kingdom, and yes, I work with God. I think that covers everything. So please, do you have any more banal queries you'd like to subject me to Miss Vale?"

"Vae—"

"Or will you relinquish my time so I can spend what little I have with my daughter before returning to my post?"

Vae rolls her eyes. "Passive aggressive gentlemen devil? You've underhandedly praised my ability to weather this, but then chastise me for wasting time? You can just say you'd like some alone time, just please don't kick me out, I also pay you rent."

Both look at Vae inquisitively.

"Right Penny. A top floor apartment that's 2300 square feet in Greenwich Village and you're telling me that one of your other three parent's name is on the deed?"

Penny and Lucifer exchange looks and shrugs in understanding. It seems Vae is more than capable of deducing elements without the two other investigators in the room. 

"Penny, I know how articulate you can be and how well-bred, but I've also seen what you can do in 5.4 seconds to that—" and Vae points to Penny's practice target, "—you lovingly rename every month depending on who has pissed you off. I know to buy you the ramen that is spiciest, that you need at least three expressos a day just to function, and that when I really annoy you, I can always rely on chocolate cake to get back into your good graces. So I am asking you, as what I had assumed was your best friend: What. The. Actual. Fuck?"

"Vae." Penny sighs, turning her body away from Lucifer and towards her friend.

"I know I have ALOT to catch you up on—a lot. And you deserve answers, and you know I don't lie."

"OOOOH OOOOH You said you don't lie." Vae is snapping her fingers and pointing at Lucifer, every snap causing him to wince. "Why do they call you the prince of lies?"

"My twin brother Michael used to bare a striking resemblance to me, even though I've never been one to see it, it's all in the posture. Anyways, he has always been the one to enjoy deceiving humans. From my understanding, he has changed a lot also since his fall."

"When did that happen?" Vae asks.

"When I was twelve, or was I eleven?" Penny asks Lucifer.

"It was after you initiated martial law at our family dinner, Urchin."

Vae looks slightly horrified.

"I started a food fight. Martial law to him means I started a food fight."

"You're little act of vigilantism ruined a very lovely Armani suit that night Beat...iful daughter of mine?" 

Vae gives them a confused look. Lucifer and Penny so weird around each other, she assumes it's because he's been missing (from the smell of sulphur probably back in Hell) for the last six months. But there's an undercurrent that Lucifer needs to do a lot more than show up to get Penny to calm down. 

"So, you're saying that Michael liked to lie and because he looks like you everyone associates it with you because you have a bad wrap." Vae postulates.

"That would summarize the situation very well indeed."

"Twin stuff."

Penny eyes Vae as though she can tell Vae is bringing another new thing to the table she wasn't expecting. Vae doesn't give in to Penny's expectant look. Vae is now acutely aware of JUST how much Penny keeps from her, and she's allowed to have secrets too. 

"Vae we need to talk."

"Yes, we do."

"No, I know that. I understand you and I, but I'm saying, Lucifer and I, we need to discuss some things. Privately. And tomorrow? Tomorrow when you get up? We will go grab breakfast," And Penny turns around, "ON HIM, wherever you want to go. And if he is still here in the morning, I will make him come with us, and you can subject him to as many questions as you want."

"Please," Vae eyes him suspiciously, "He's already made it clear he's going to be gone by morning."

"True, but he's still going to leave me an allowance because regardless of who he is, Lucifer's still my dad, and if he leaves, I promise I will fill you in. But I have to find out first."

  ~***~

"My child—" but Penny holds up a finger to Lucifer and waits for Vae to leave the bathroom and return to her room. She looks up to see Vae watching them suspiciously as she walks out of the upstairs bathroom and into her room, a brush stroking her hair as she paces towards her door. The door closes, and then Penny puts her finger down.

"Cut the crap Lucifer, I heard you say he was a mutual suspect."

"Then why call him a friend? you knew I could deny that."

"For that reason. You don't have friends in Hell, you have subjects. If you wanted me to track him, you would have agreed."

He looks at her with such wistful pride she is taken back. "You have so much of her in you. Her bravado, and keen mind."

"Dad stop! I don't want to talk about Mom." They both stop and break eye contact; the emotion is a little too raw for either of them. It was a slip into old habits, comfortable years ago, yet painful in their current state.

"Well then, the next part is going to be rather difficult, as that is why I'm precisely here." 

   FEBRUARY 6TH 2020 7:06 P.M. | | 

  Trixie thumbs her iPod's volume to the max, watching everyone around her argue in a pantomime to the music. Gathered with her at the table are angels, adults, a demon, the Devil, and God.

Charlie is asleep in the pack-and-play that Linda set up in her bedroom. 

She kind of envies Charlie right now.

She tries to get her mother's attention by staring lasers at her, but Chloe is too busy yelling at her Dad sitting to her right, wincing. The bench that they share with Maze and Michael is vibrating underneath the eleven-year-old. She looks at Maze to her left, who is currently pointing at Linda and Amenadiel. 

No one is paying her any attention, except for one. 

She looks back at God and gives him her best Who-do-you-think-you-are? Scowl, the one she mastered last year when she met Eve. 

No one asked Beatrice if she wanted to be here, listening to this.

She had no choice in the matter. 

Okay, well, she did demand a seat at the table, but she thought it would be a typical awkward family dinner, not watching every adult in her life outside of Ella and school lose their temper on each other.

She picks up her fork and scrapes a bounty of mashed potatoes on to it. Maybe it's the music that inspires her, or perhaps it's the frustrations of being trapped with a bunch of adults who are behaving worse than her seventh-grade peers. Still, she looks up at God once more, meeting each other's eyes, and he smiles kindly at her, an invitation for what is about to happen next.

Like a miracle, white fluffy clouds of potato fly through the air catching the attention of the adults around her as they reach their final destination, landing with a resounding sloppy sound on God's right cheek. 

And as the track dies out, the adults– speechless stare at her in awe, and she pulls off the headset of her ears and sighs. 

"Finally," she murmurs and picks up the knife to cut into the roast beef on her plate. 

She hardly participates as carrots begin to bounce of chests, potatoes slap against faces and into hair. There is still an uproar, but the cacophony now has squeals of laughter interlaced between ridiculous insults. She looks up at her original target, and he continues to smile warmly at her, not engaged in the foolishness around her.

 FEBRUARY 6TH 2020 11:06 A.M.

 Eight hours before Trixie started pandemonium at the dinner table, she had been sitting in her room listening to the hurried whispers of her mother on the phone. 

"Dan, he asked that you be there, and really? After everything in the last few days you owe him."

She's anxious. And bored. And continuously feeling the battles that her mother and father seemed to be facing. Her birthday is next month, and she's pretty sure they both haven't even had time to think about it because usually, they're asking her what she wants for a special treat, perhaps a gift, anything at this point.

"No... Nonono... I mean God, as in you friend Amenadiel's dad. Your once frenemy Lucifer's father? HIM. He's asked that you be there. So essentially you're saying no to God Dan."

She moves from sitting on her bed to the chair at her desk and pulls out her coloured pencils and some paper before slapping it on the surface. 

The school counsellor took her aside recently and helped her understand that she's frustrated and sad when she feels like this. And that when she does, she can always turn to her artwork, and so she does. She draws aliens and herself on Mars, even though she realizes that her childish dreams of being the first president of Mars are soooo three years ago.

But she doesn't see the harm in pretending, so she draws her mother first, a smile on instead of the tears that Trixie has gotten used to pretending not to notice. Then her Dad, his arms up in the air, cheering her on. She draws Maze because Maze was the first to take the dream seriously and can't imagine what life was like before she met Maze. She loves Maze and misses coming home to her every day. She doesn't understand how adults can be so hot and cold with each other. A few weeks ago, before Lucifer got back, Maze was spending almost every day with them.

"And you know what, Dan? I can't wait to watch you squirm because it's God Dan, and now that we are aaaaallll up to speed, I know you dated Lucifer's Mom, and so do you!" Before lowering her voice and harshly whispering, "because I'm petty, and you tried to kill my boyfriend."

Trixie had missed Lucifer, but it had been a long time since he and her Mom had been getting along. It seemed like ever since they left for Rome, her Mom had just been lost. So, when he left, and she could see just how upset that made her mother, she talked to Maze about it and found out exactly where he had gone. Maze doesn't ever speak to her like she's a child; Lucifer does.

Trixie finds herself drawing him, using red to create his glowing eyes. Trixie learned from her father and mother a long time ago you don't give up any information on anything unless someone asks you a direct question. Trixie has known precisely who Lucifer is and what that entails from the moment she met him. 

Sure, she has accepted she'll always be urchin, or offspring. But he doesn't push her away like he used to. She also knows that he praises her most when she's clever and conniving, which makes her feel great. He saved her from those scary men who showed up when she went to see him and Eve. She saw his eyes then, even with Eve desperately trying to hide her behind her skirts. She watched him throw them through the stained glass and pick them up like they were nothing. It made her feel safe. He and her mother saved her from Malcolm. He came into her life, saving her mother, and her mom told her that he left it doing the same thing. 

Lucifer never lies to her; everyone else in her life has. More than once.

Trixie also now knows what a hooker is.

"Trixie-babe?" 

Trixie turns around to see her mother standing in the door-jam.

"Time to pack up; I've got Ella coming to get you to go for a girl’s night."

"What? Come on."

"What's wrong with that? I thought you liked Ella?"

"I love Ella, but why can't I have dinner with you and the family?"

Chloe pauses for a moment, her left eye twitching slightly, but that's all her face betrays.

"Why would you wanna hang out with a bunch of boring old adults? Come on Monkey, you're going to totally love this!"

"No! You're lying!"

Chloe squints her eyes at Trixie, and she can tell her mom is deducing right now, so she sits still while she assesses the situation.

Trixie watches as her mother's eyes fall on the drawing on the desk.

"This is really important to you hey?" Chloe asks, sounding resigned.

Sometimes her mom doesn't talk to her like a child; That helps.

"Mom, I know you're worried. It's God. It's a big deal."

Her mother's eyes narrow again. 

"You're not that quiet, and even if you were. I figured it out pretty early. Maze and Lucifer have always told me the truth." 

Chloe removes herself from Trixie's door and heads over to her daughter's bed. Trixie turns in her chair so she can face her.

"Yeah, I guess that helps, hey Monkey? Having adults in your life who treat you like your not a little kid."

"Lucifer treats me like a little kid Mom, he just never lies to me." Trixie looks back at her drawing. "He saves that for himself."

Chloe's eyes go wide.

"Well, that's definitely not a deduction a little kid would make, especially one so astute." And Trixie looks back to her mother, shrugging.

"We all have our moments. Can I ask you a question Mom?"

"Anything baby. You can always ask me about anything, and if I have made you feel like you can't, for however long, I'm really sorry about that."

"When did you start believing?" 

Trixie watches Chloe's eye twitch.

"Was it when you took us to Rome?"

Chloe's eyes fill up with tears, and she nods quietly.

"Was it because you were afraid?"

"So afraid baby. Afraid for you, afraid for me. Afraid for Lucifer even."

Trixie nods and gets up from her chair and moves over to the bed. Trixie knows if she tells her mom that she overheard that her dad tried to hurt Lucifer, it will break her heart. Sometimes adults forgot she was there. She knows it's not just her mom though, she and her friend Celine have been talking about it when they walk the school halls at recess. So instead of bringing up Dan, Trixie tries a different approach.

"Who... doesn't know?"

"Ella."

Trixie's shoulders drop. She knows how this conversation is going to end. Her mom is going to tell her that she needs to go for her safety. That angels and demons, while totally wicked-awesome, are also dangerous. And everyone is kind of mad at each other right now, and Lucifer really doesn't like his dad, and it's just not the place for an eleven-year-old mortal kid from Los Angeles. 

"Well, I'm going to tell you the truth then, Monkey. I'm still not entirely comfortable knowing about angels and demons, and God and the Devil are real. Monkey don't you ever miss when it was just you and me?"

Trixie shakes her head; it's a lie. She does miss it, but she fears that if she admits to her mother, in this moment, that that information will be fodder for her mother to send her away. She needs this; she needs to see Maze and her dad, Lucifer, and Charlie. If her mom makes her go with Ella, she feels like it's her mother lying too. So, she lies.

Chloe looks slightly hurt, but she smiles sadly and nods. "Okay baby, I'll call Ella and you can stay."

  ~***~

Penny sometimes lies awake at night, remembering this lie. Now that loft is silent, and Lucifer's headed back to the Penthouse to make arrangements for her upcoming travels, Penny finds herself thinking about that day once more. As she rolls over to try once more to go to sleep, she twirls the ring she wears and sigh, biting her lip in a way that would remind most of her mother. As she drifts off, she can't help but let her guilt remind her, once more, that if she had not lied— if she had gone with Ella if things may have ended up differently. 

[gatheringroses]

I highly doubt that anyone that sees this post will even know what the hell is going on with my life, or care, but I’m not writing this for sympathy. I’m writing it for my sanity. Long ago ( or maybe not so depending on how one looks at it ) I wrote for pleasure, I write to process things, it was my therapy if you will. If you’d like to skip over this, I won’t hold it against you.

I, am many things.  Daughter, care giver, friend, aunt, godmother. You know all of those hokey cliches that we attach to women that have fallen into the care giver role. Lost both of my parents at the start of 2020, being thrown for a loop and trying to process it. I ended up selling what little I owned and am still trying to sell off the property to the place I called home . Ended up setting up house with a cousin who, as some may know, has been...interesting to say the least. At first I thought she was just overly sensitive to the world and it’s workings. I’ve learned now that she’s a leech and passive aggressively manipulative. She’s blown through various family members and has no idea how to stand on her own two feet. She expects others to just simply take care of her while she floats through the world because she’s “too sick to do anything.” I’ve tried being understanding. I’ve tried just about damn near everything short of packing my shit and leaving her to rot  ( believe me there are days when just running from her and her ever changing mood fluctuations sounds like heaven. ) The 911 calls, the special diets, doctor’s appointments, midnight car rides with the hammer down to get to her because she’s two hours away at a friend’s house and all but projectile vomiting because she ‘ate something that didn’t agree with her.’ even more doctor’s appoints and vouching for her that she’s ill. I think that’s the sticking point. She made me a pawn in her game to get exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t give two shits that I care. That I lose sleep routinely getting up and checking to see if she’s still breathing. That I work myself into knots doing jobs that cause my hands to chap, my back to ache or for me to come home with a ringing in my ears and clothes that smell like booze. She doesn’t know how hard to a God, that I sincerely think has forgotten that I exist or has simply turned his back to me, that she’d pull through this last time she had a seizure before my very eyes again. I’m strictly a shower person now. I can’t take the sound of sloshing water or the scent of overly scented bubble bath. 

I grew up in a household where Mom didn’t have a maternal bone in her body and Dad was too afraid of not seeing me again to *do* something, like, oh I dunno divorce her. But I digress, perhaps I put too much emphasis on family as I did not have the traditional home life one would expect. Knock down drag out fights where you see your mother chuck an enamel roasting pan on Thanksgiving at your father’s head because he said the meal was ‘good’ instead of excellent kind of colors your world in the wrong way. So does hearing your mother constantly bad mouth not only you but your father isn’t great either. Being belittled in front of friends was a regular occurrence until I stopped having people over.  I was brought up in a household where I was wanted by only one parent and virtually hated for being alive by the other. “I don’t want to even look at you.’ and ‘Hey, stupid what’re you flinching for?’ were favorite sayings.  So, yeah, that childhood partnered with very firm handling in the physical punishment department I learned to make myself useful, because ‘if you’re useful they can’t get mad at you.’  Partner all of that with the shock of losing both parents in one fell swoop ( a total of 56 days. )  grief came at me harder than I’d ever expected it to. ( I don’t care what anyone says, you can still grieve a parent even if you hated them or they hated you. You mourn what you could have had not the what was. )has created a sort of a hellish mix of fuck knows what in me.  My once type A personality and fear of the unknown has been flipped. I’m very very slowly rebuilding myself one brick at a time. 

  I mean I’ve always thought I never quite belonged anywhere, maybe it’s just my personality or the fact that home was fucked up, I don’t know. I’m currently working two jobs and have a third for seasonal work lined up. I put my entire life on hold to care for my parents, did I have to? No. I had a strong sense of duty to do it. Why? Not one damn clue. Maybe I thought if I showed my mother just how devoted I was to her she’d somehow finally love me. It didn’t happen. Pretty damn sad isn’t it?   I essentially painted myself into a corner the first time I’m going to be damned if it’s going to happen a second. I deserve to go out and live. I deserve to experience what this world has to offer, fall in love again, live a life with no regrets. I’m not doing that stagnating here caring for someone who, quite frankly has used me right out of the gate. Pretty words and compliments drip from a liar’s tongue like honey from a hive. I’ve come to hate the taste of honey these days. I deserve to be high on life and drunk on the strange brew of new experiences. I would give everything I’ve got ( at this point it isn’t much but it’s all I’ve got ) to set up a more stable base for myself and not have to worry about coming home from work and finding my cousin dead. Her sisters have made their peace with it, I, for some ungodly reason haven’t. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to not have anyone give a damn about you when you’re down? Maybe I’m just a soft touch. But that softness is hardening. A bitterness is sinking into me. Girl has a pain pill problem along with a slew of mental issues on top of an eating disorder. I’ve taken to locking up my medical marijuana and Xanax just in case.  I’ve also taken to busying myself with anything so I don’t have to talk to her. If I do I’m going to blow up and there won’t be anything left of her. I don’t want to be an angry person or a bitter one or worse yet a hellish mixture of both. How can I love someone and hate them all at the same time? Am I remembering the ‘hate the sin but love the sinner?’ mindset from when I attended church? Or am I just slowly becoming numb? I truly know what it’s like to be hated and I wouldn’t wish that on a single soul.  

Are you at the point where you’re scratching your head and  going ‘why the hell am I reading this crazy bitch’s blog?’ or ‘why am I reading this?’ or ‘Please tell me she’s in therapy.’  I’d like to say. I’ve no idea, you were bored? I haven’t got a clue, why am I writing it? Yes, yes I am in therapy. It’s helping but I’ve got a few decades of damage to try and undo.  I do, however have a wonderful support system a few assorted family members, old friends and some new ( you know who you are. If you’ve read this mention roses the next time we have a chat. ;) ) that have been more than kind and generous with their time and advice. I do realize my life has hit a low point. But it can’t always rain. My faith is unwavering and my well of hope is endless. I’ve got to keep going and moving forward without regret. 

[shirbertandderry4ever]

A concept/story idea

Okay I'm still a huge Derry shipper but I saw a screenshot that made me think. So like what if Josie's reputation never recovered after the sexual assault. People are hesitant to be around her and even her parents are still heavily disappointed in her. The Andrew's even cancel the deal they had made with the Pye's because they didn't want Billy's reputation to suffer.

Jerry, meanwhile, is still reeling from his recent heartbreak with Diana. She's about to leave for Paris and he's trying to figure out some way he could get her back. He wants her, he's in love in with her and if she could get see that she loves him too...

One day Josie is walking through the woods, angry and in tears about the whole situation. The only people who are willingly speaking to her is Anne, Gilbert and Diana. She's furious at Anne, especially after she "tried" to fix things and her anger extends to Gilbert and Diana as well. Guilt by association. She let's out a scream of frustration and kicks a rock as hard as she can.

....only her shoes weren't made for that and she's sure she's just broken something. She sits down on the ground, uncaring that she was dirtying up her dress. As she clenches her foot she hears someone calling to her.

It was a boy. He's tall, with dark hair and concern written all over his face. She scrunches up her face when she notices the clothes he's wearing. They're for the beggars she's seen on the streets. Her reputation was already tarnished before and she wont allow it to worsen. Jerry, as he introduces himself, asks her if she's okay and if she needs a doctor. Josie declines curtly (more like snaps at him). Jerry raises a brow but says nothing else. Haughtily, she gets up and tries to walk, only she begins to fall and is caught by Jerry.

His arms are strong and he holds onto her for a moment, and in that moment Josie felt at ease. Suddenly it comes to mind how wicked this must look to a passerby and she forces herself away from him, holding onto a tree for support. She hobbles away, shaking her head to clear it.

"Wait " Jerry calls. Why hasn't he left yet? "You never told me your name."

Normally Josie would never breath in the same direction as of someone lower in class than her, let alone talk to them. But, she figures, life can't possibly get any worse can it?

"Josie."

The two cross paths again. Jerry wants to know how her foot is feeling and if there's anything he can do. She's skeptical and searches his face for any trace of a lie. Why would he care? He didn't even know her. But, deep inside she can tell he's sincere. She mutters a response that satisfies him.

Secretly, Josie is intrigued by him, not that she wants to admit it out loud

"Why aren't you in school?" She asks the next time they just so happen to see each other. She's walking through the woods again when she spots him. He might be stalking her. It's slightly creepy. She's wondered that since they met but never thought to ask.

Jerry's face reddenes and he picks at the weeds on the ground. "Well? Aren't you going to answer me?" She gets a little important.

"We can't afford it," he says to which she goes quiet. He explains that he needs to work instead of school.

"Oh, that's why you wear those clothes."

Jerry lowers his eyes.

"Why doesn't your father just get another job so you can go? Surely he's not that selfish."

It's then that for the first time, Jerry is visibly anger. He mutters a hasty goodbye and stomps off. Josie is miffed that he just left her like that yet deep down feels guilty. Josie Pye isn't known for remorse. So why start now?

She gathers up the courage to apologize. After waiting two weeks, after pouring, after being very bored because whether she liked it or not Jerry was easy to talk to. She catches him on his way back to his home and she (sincerely) apologizes to him. She feels very small compared to him (literally, he's like a giant. Taller than Billy). He accepts her apology and they talk again, making time to spend together and they talk and she even brings him treats from her lunch (he's really hungry, she notices with a frown).

She knows this is all wrong. She shouldn't be meeting up with a boy like this. What would everyone say? What would her parents say? This is ridiculously foolish on her part. Especially after what all has happened

But....she doesn't care

Over time Josie realizes everything she's been taught from a young age us wrong. There's nothing wrong with being poor and it doesn't make someone less than. She learns that Jerry works for the Cuthberts and is momentarily angry, assuming that Anne put all this together to "fix" what she originally tried to fix. Jerry reassures her Anne doesn't know about this.

She also discovers Jerry's escapades with Diana and it sends a nauseating feeling to her. She's bothered but tries to tell herself that it's because of how coldly Diana treated him and how unDiana-like that was. Even after this she can't shake off this feeling. She feels sorry for him and listens attentively when he admits he's trying to win her back

She doesn't deserve him, Josie thinks. He deserved someone that truly cared for him and not as some scapegoat. She's seen Diana and Anne together in class and Diana doesn't look the least bit upset. She acts like everything is normal. It infuriates Josie and she wants to shake Jerry's shoulders and tell him to wake up.

She keeps herself calm, tearing a dandelion apart. It's all she can do

Weeks pass. Summer arrives. Josie still enjoys their time together. Away from the prying eyes of gossipy townsfolk, she can relax. Jerry even braids her hair once, asking her if she's ever done anything different than just curling it. She hasn't. Her mother adores her bouncy curls and she's wondered more than once what she would look like if she braided her hair like Anne's. Jerry offers to do it for her, citing that he has younger sisters and has often had to do this for them. She allows it and she's amazed at the difference. She isn't sure exactly how she looks but the wide grin on Jerry's face says it all. "You're so pretty," he murmurs in french

Her heart soars

It scares her

She can't be falling for him. It wouldn't work out, it would never work out. He and Diana were a prime example.

She takes a week to hide away in her room, feigning an illness. She's deeply afraid of running into him. Deeply afraid of blurting out the truth.

She likes Jerry. She respects Jerry. Maybe she's just confused. She just needs more to think, that's all

She's in denial and it shows

One day her parents announce to her that they've managed to find a suitor, of which her father stresses just how hard this was and that she ought not to do away with him like she had with Billy. It's a gut punch. She smiles, forced and pushes back the hurt she's feeling.

She meets Marshall Kirkpatrick. He's a stout man with a full beard and slightly handsome if you looked far enough. He's not Jerry, she sighs inwardly. He's nowhere near Jerry but she knows how hard her parents worked for this so she gives Marshall a try.

He's worse than she could've imagined. Loud, boisterous, demanding. Her mother offhandedly remarks how Josie had talked to her about taking the Queens exam.

"There'll be no need for that ," Marshall waved a hand dismissively. He then launches into a rant about women getting their college degrees and his when his father was a boy women didn't go to college.

It puts Josie off and she doesn't eat any more.

After Marshall leaves, Josie excuses herself to her room. She sits on her bed for a long while and thinks. Marshall and her father had talked for a long time about courting and Marshall confronted him about the incident with Billy, to make sure she wouldn't do anything to smear his name. Her father assured him he wouldn't

She hears something hit her window. Again. Again. Curiosity overwhelms her and she takes a peak outside. Jerry is standing there, hands behind his back. He looks shy for some reason. She wonders how he even knew where her house was. He says Anne told him.

"Why does Anne know?" She's panicked. If Anne knows, surely Gilbert and Diana know too. She can't have anyone else finding out.

He says that he had to tell her so he could find out where she (Josie) lived. It was important. She sneaks out and they run off into the woods for privacy. It's dark and she can't see much. But hope stirs up inside of her, the shock of Anne knowing was forgotten. Does he love her back? Is that what he wants to tell her? He looks so determined, so happy that she knows what she has to do

"I love you"

"I think Diana is giving me another chance"

She stops dead and stares blankly. She's sure she heard wrong. What. Why-

"Oh," her voice cracks. "That's wonderful"

He finally registers her words. "You love me?" He says softly.

But she can't speak. Her heart is shattered and her tongue is too flimsy for words. With as much dignity as she can maintain, She turns around and runs back in the direction of her house. Unbeknownst to her parents, she cries herself to that night and many nights after. The first true love of her life is lost

She ignores Anne's glances of pity and pretends she doesn't exist. She can't bear to think of Jerry and looking at Anne distinctly reminds her.

Diana and Jerry are back to whatever it is that they had. It's a secret she's keeping from her parents. Josie hears the whispering, she hears Diana tell Anne how sweet Jerry is and what a gentleman he was. She mentions that Jerry had asked her if he could kiss her. It had been meant for her hand but Diana kissed his lips instead. She and Anne erupt into quiet giggles.

Josie goes home early that day. She feels ready to vomit

A month after she graduated from Avonlea school, Marshall proposes marriage to her. She accepts, wishing it was Jerry proposing and not this idiot

A week after that Jerry confronts her. She's in town just walking around with the looming thought of her wedding say over her head. He pulls her away so no one will see them.

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Tell you what?" She says tonelsssly.

"That you love me," He says, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "I-I never knew."

"I know," her voice comes out colder than she meant it. "But I hear you're doing quite well for yourself."

He's confused by her sudden change of tone. It takes a moment but he understands that she's referring to Diana. He looks ashamed, trying to apologize but she doesn't want to hear it. It hurts, it hurts so bad that she can't even look him in the eye anymore. She turns a little and he reaches out to touch her; she flinches.

"I'm sorry, Josie." Even her name sounded good the way he said it. "I didn't know."

"I thought you liked me," she's getting teary eyed. The lump in her throat boarders on painful. "I thought when you said you had something important to say you were...." she doesn't need to finish it

There's a silence.

"I'm sorry," he rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to lead you on. I care very much for you, Josie. But I also care very much for Diana-"

"Stop," she chokes out. "Dont you dare tell me you didn't feel anything. We used to talk for hours and you put your arm around me and you held me everytime someone made me cry. You sad I was pretty! Did none of that mean a thing to you?"

He starts to get teary himself but pushes them back. "I should go. Mr. Cuthbert is expecting me." He turns.

"JERRY!" She screams. It didnt matter that anyone heard her. She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Time flies. She's dressed in one of the finest dresses she's ever seen. Her hair is curled perfectly and pinned to the dress was a gorgeous broach her mother gave her as a gift. She's beautiful, her mother and other relatives said so. She doesn't feel like it. Marshall is with the pastor and his friend, waiting for her.

Her mother asks if she's nervous. Josie is too much in a trance to answer. The day she's been dreading since the proposal is here. Inevitably it came and there was no going back. She wishes God would strike her down this very instant.

Her father walks her down the aisle. The guests are smiling, even crying. She wants to cry too, but for an entirely different reason.

She's up at the alert in front of everyone. The pastor tells them it's time to exchange vows. Josie goes first, they're so fake she almost laughs. Her mother told her to write from the heart. She did. Everything she wrote was about Jerry.

"I now pronounce you husband and-"

"WAIT!"

Josie's heart nearly stops. Jerry bursts in, he must have been working. His work clothes are dirty and there's smudges of dirt on his cheeks. Some of the guests wrinkle their noses at him. She thinks he looks beautiful.

"Excuse me," her father and Marshall are angry and stand tall together to try and intimidate Jerry. It doesn't work. He's looking past them and at Josie.

"I'm sorry," he says loudly. "I'm so sorry Josie. You were right. It did mean something to me and I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner."

"What is he talking about?" Marshall demands.

A tear falls down her face. "You mean it?"

He nods. "I do." How ironic.

"But what about Diana?"

"I thought I had feelings for Diana, really I did. But it's not her. It's you I love, Josie."

He bends down and takes her hand. The crowd gasps. "Josie Pye, I love you. I love you more than I thought was possible, ever since that day in the woods. I may not be able to give you everything you deserve but I can love and cherish you for eternity. And if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask you to marry me."

The crowd goes berserk. Everyone is screaming and Marshall is pointing accusations at her father but Josie doesn't care. It feels like she and Jerry are the only people on earth.

It's so unorthodox, so unheard of. She's going to be the talk of the town no doubt. She might even be disowned for this. It's a huge weight she'll have to carry.

And it sounds so enticing

"Yes," she whispers and let's out a sob. A happy one. "Yes, yes! I'll marry you Jerry."

She leaves the church that day with Jerry's hand in hers, on cloud nine. It's them against the world

And she can only thank Billy and her hurt foot for all of this

[leeholtwrites]

Magical Girl Reunion Tour - C5

Chloe

Chloe wiped away the sweat on her forehead and neck with a towel as she turned off her sound system with the remote she left laying near by. Her morning work out was great and necessary, considering her career, yet there were moments that she wished she could just sit on the couch with a giant cinnamon roll and lush coffee with all the fixings. With the towel around her neck, she stared out her loft window and took a swig from water bottle.

Her loft was still relatively empty, brown boxes stacked along the walls, some of them open. She'd only really taken the time to dig out her work out equipment and some of her living essentials like plates and sheets. Today she would really start to unpack.  She hadn't booked any clients, and it wasn't like she needed it to help pay her inflated rent or buy food with the alimony her ex was paying her.

After a shower, she blew out her straight, black hair and applied some mascara. Despite being a personal trainer who spent most of her time a sweaty mess, she was honest with herself about how incredibly vain she is. Her focus on her appearance used to be far more intense, involving heavy foundation to cover the light dusting of freckles along her nose and cheeks. Aging has led her to embrace them. She loved her freckles now and thought them one of her best features.

Her walk in closet was one of her favorite rooms of her loft. She had ensured she took all her clothes in the divorce - as well as everything else she loved - because she adored every piece. For now, only a handful of items had been unpacked and she selected a luxuriously soft matching set of cotton pants and a short sleeve shirt.

Once dressed, she retrieved coffee and a protein bar from the kitchen before returning to the closet to unpack. Unpacking her closet was relatively easy. She had invested in cardboard wardrobes to prevent having to take some of her more sensitive clothing off the hanger. After she hung everything in its place she moved on to the boxes with her shoes and socks and accessories.

She moved a steady rhythm, preparing her closet in exactly how she wanted it. One, two, three empty boxes. Chloe had fallen into her zen. And then she saw it, The Box. She had forgotten where she packed it.

In the bottom of the box under her collection of athletic shoes, was a glittery purple plastic Caboodle with a clear handle and clip. It was so painfully late nineties she immediately got flash backs to her Lisa Frank trapper keeper and the Backstreet Boys. She didn't even know why she had kept it so long since she became a Rainbow Defender at the turn of the new century. There had been so much hope for her future and the future of their world. It was the perfect vessel to stash her wand.

Chloe left her closet for the loft's kitchen where she placed the purple box on the counter. According to the stove, it was much later in the day than she thought. Once she got into the groove, she didn't even bother checking her phone. There was no reason to now. If she got any messages, it was probably her ex begging for mercy, or a client. They could both wait another hour. Then her phone rang, the screen lighting up to say "Shonda."

With a swipe of her thumb, she lifted it to her ear. "Hey. I didn't expect a call from you today."

"Can you open the door? I’m in the hall. I have a surprise for you."

Chloe couldn't keep the confusion out of her voice. "Besides yourself? You should have told me you caught a flight. I would have picked you up at the airport."

Shonda paused for a moment before saying, "I didn't fly."

The purple box seemed to loom from the counter. "What do you mean you didn't fly?"

"Please, open the door and let us in. It's best I tell you in person." Then she hung up.

Against her thoughts, Chloe immediately ran to the door and tore it open. There in the hall way, just like she said, was Shonda and a dark haired woman she didn't recognize. Then she saw a white robot cat with vivid green eyes wound around the dark haired woman's ankles. Viridian. So that must mean the woman was, "Maggie?"

The woman waived sheepishly. "Uh, hi, Chloe."

What Chloe did next she would try to blame on all the current betrayal in her life, the breaking of her trust by those closest to her. The truth was she was angry and it needed to go somewhere.

Chloe punched Maggie. Or tried to. The other woman had obviously been keeping up with her training somewhat because she easily blocked it before falling into a defensive stance. Chloe tried to take another swing at her, but Shonda shoved her back in to her loft.

"Jesus, Chloe! Use your words," Shonda shouted.

On the counter next to her, she spotted the purple Caboodle. She snapped it open and reached inside. The moment she touched her wand, energy coursed through her. The handle was the green of nature in Spring, the pommel gold like the sun. The fogged crystal on the top was patterned with little gold shields. She held it out and shouted, "Reveal your true form!" It flashed and she held a small shield in her left hand. It was narrow at the bottom and broad at the top, white with gold along the edges,  a green four pointed star in the middle. Only this time, the pommel of a short sword stuck up over the top of the shield, sheathed along the back.

It gave her pause as the other women stepped into the room, their hands up, closing the door behind them. She almost relaxed, but her anger bubbled up at the sight of Maggie. She drew the sword and pointed it at her. "What the hell are you finally doing back?"

"Omira has returned," Maggie said carefully. "I'm sorry I haven't called in years. I was not aware that some of you thought I was dead," she said, glancing at Shonda. "It's looking like today is the day of assault Maggie, and honestly, I just want to apologize and get something to eat. We've got bigger concerns right now. If you want to fight later, then fine." Maggie put her hands down and dropped her purse on the counter, the end of her wand peaking out. "At least it looks like you got a sword out the divorce." She looked around. "And this sweet loft. I love the exposed brick."

Was this the Maggie she knew? Sure, it had been almost twenty years, but there was an edge peaking out from the dry jokes and resignation. She was having difficulty imagining the high energy blond girl with this dark haired woman in jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days. So, instead of trying to fit the images together, she addressed Shonda, lowering the sword. "You told her about my divorce."

"I didn't give her any specifics. Just caught her up."

"Yeah, I can't believe competitive Chloe became some asshole's hot Asian trophy wife. I always thought it would be the other way around. You, the high powered corporate lawyer, and your hot piece of ass."

Chloe glared at Maggie. "I wasn't talking to you."

Maggie shrugged. "So, what was it? Did he have a tragic dick-slip accident?"

She couldn't help the snort that escaped her. Chloe reigned in the mirth and schooled her face into a stony expression. Still, she answered, "Many times."

"And he's still alive?"

"I made his pocket book cry out for mercy."

"Nice. I never married. I'm a concierge on the Strip in Las Vegas. Live alone. No pets. No kids."

A feeling of disappointment settled within Chloe, tamping down the rage she felt at Maggie's abandonment. Maggie, who had so much promise, lived alone and worked in the service industry. The truth was, Chloe thought Maggie would always be someone in charge, leading the way for anyone who found her light. But that light, it wasn't there anymore.

Chloe sheathed her sword and changed the shield back into her wand. She would question the change in her wand's form later.  "What do you guys want to eat? We can order in." She paused for a minute before adding, "No price limit."

After a brief discussion, Maggie's suggestion of lobster rolls sounded the best to them all, and Chloe put a delivery order in at her favorite place. She would have preferred to go out so that the lobster rolls were fresh, but with the news she'd just heard, being in public didn't appeal to her. While waiting for their food, Chloe gave them a quick tour of her loft. It was one of those high end ones in a converted mill, and she absolutely adored it. She could tell Maggie was a little envious, but for the most part she seemed to enjoy it.

"So, are you living off your husband, or do you do anything for a living?" Maggie finally said.

Chloe felt a flash of irritation, but from her tone, she sounded genuinely curious. "I'm a personal trainer to rich people." She didn't mention she started the business to have something to do when her husband started to ignore her, or that she had used her already existing contacts to get her elite clients.

"That explains all the lycra and tennis shoes. And yoga mats. And all the healthy food."

Shonda rolled her eyes. "No one wears lycra anymore."

Maggie shrugged. "Look, its easier to say than moisture wicking organic stretchy cotton that cost ninety dollars despite that you sweat in it."

Chloe snorted again. She'd forgotten how funny she found Maggie. When they first met, Chloe had thought her glib, thoughtless. A mouth without any substance. Then she had learned that Maggie was all substance. She felt deeply, and believed everything she said to her core. If she said sorry, she meant sorry. Trying to punch her suddenly felt like the exactly wrong response.

Before Chloe could say anything, there was a knock on the door. Their food. Shonda opened it and tipped the delivery guy. They settled on the floor next to her couch covered in boxes and dug in.

"I think we should tell Sarah next. She should be done with her morning classes after we eat."

Maggie nodded, her mouth full of lobster roll. That, more than anything, reminded Chloe of Maggie in high school. She had always consumed food with the goal of putting as much away in a short period of time as possible.

Chloe picked at her fries. It had been so long since she ate fried anything. Normally she just ate the sandwich only when she was feeling indulgent. In the chaos of the almost fight, Chloe had forgot to ask why they were here. "Wait, what do you mean see Sarah? What the hell is going on?"

Viridian straightened, giving up on batting at a crumpled napkin. "I was wondering when you all would stop dawdling and realize there was a purpose. I understand you haven't seen each other in some time. I'm especially ashamed of you Shonda, you have usually been the most diligent task master."

Shonda didn't look amused. "Says the cat robot who was just playing with a napkin."

"Yes, well, I can't do all the mental work." He cleared his throat. "Omira is back. You must all take up your wands, and defeat her once and for all."

Dread seeped through Chloe, making her feel grosser than any container of fries ever could. "Wha-what? Why didn't you tell me that on the phone?"

"I meant to tell you once you let us in the door," Shonda responded. "But we got a little sidetracked."

Chloe ran her hands over her hair. "I'm assuming, that because you two are here, we don’t really have a choice. Like, there aren't any teenage girls coming to the rescue?"

Maggie and Shonda both shook their heads.

"God fucking damn it."

"Pretty much my reaction," Maggie said.

Chloe put her face in her hands, placing her elbows on her knees. Just what she needed, to stop the end of the world. She was still getting over the betrayal of her ex, her divorce, the looks of pity some of her clients gave her. And, her clients. What was she going to do about them? They could be pulled away at any time. Not if they were more active. Not if she only dedicated her life to stopping this woman.

She lifted her head. "Okay, we've got to this as quick as possible. I've got a business to run. Can we get this handled in a month? Do we have somewhere to start?"

"She hasn't struck yet," Viridian said. "I managed to get to Maggie here before an attack."

"He interrupted my dinner yesterday."

"We're lucky for the heads up. Thank you, Viridian." Shonda said. "I also agree we don't have a lot of time. Maggie and I have about two weeks, tops."

"Paid time off," Maggie managed around a full mouth.

It was amazing to Chloe that they were even having this conversation. How do you defeat an evil queen on a schedule without losing your home or your family? Sure, she was living off her alimony for the most part, but Maggie had never been married, let alone to a rich guy, and Shonda helped pay her mortgage and had a husband and kids. How were they going to handle this? Sarah and Kelsey had yet to be told. They too would have to make some kind of arrangements. Sarah would probably have the hardest time with her schedule. She had classes to teach, some to TA, and an dissertation to write.

"So, we have two weeks to take vacation from our lives to defeat Queen Omira, or there is no way in hell our lives aren't going to get completely wrecked trying to juggle everything, am I right?"

"I don't understand," Viridian said, sounding flustered. "Your going to try and schedule your lives around defeating Omira? That is not how this works."

Maggie swirled a fry in some ranch. She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. When done, she addressed Viridian, all humor gone. "It has to. We're not kids anymore. We don't have our moms to clean up our rooms or pay the bills. We're entirely responsible for our lives now. We don't have the luxury of some prolonged magical war. I know it took three years last time, but we've defeated her once. We've lived that experience, and we can learn from it. We're older now. I’m sure there are some things we learned."

"Wow, you've come a long way from throwing pillows at me yesterday."

"It was a pillow, and you didn't knock."

They finished eating, deciding it was best to call Sarah before they showed up. Maggie especially liked this plan because she was very tired of getting attacked. Chloe couldn't really blame her after she mentioned that Shonda truth mirrored her, which earned a very strange look from Shonda that was half peeved that Maggie had said anything and half shame. Chloe could relate, she felt the same way about trying to punch her.

When done, Chloe slipped on some tennis shoes and grabbed a cute little leather hip bag out of her closet that had a strap for her thigh. She loaded it up with all her essentials - lipstick, mascara, hair ties, tampons, wallet, phone - and met the other two in her living area, camel colored leather jacket in hand. In her other she held a black sweatshirt. She threw it at Maggie. "You're going to need that. It'll at least hid that awful t-shirt."

"Ah, there's Chloe. Couldn't make it a day without insulting my fashion sense. I suppose it was laundry day isn't a good excuse?"

Chloe snorted, repressing her laughter, and pulled out her phone.