#i love adult romances and the pain and i love how little time we get with them tbh

[heretherebedork]

And then he just leaves the first aid kit there for them. He can't even face them. I love these teachers so much. I am decimated by them and the story being slowly told in the littlest moments and the pain they can't share and the quiet things that hurt the deepest sometimes.

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[bengiyo]

Century of Love Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

Daou and Offroad are back on my screens. Pond Ponlawit is here. I’m ready.

Hey, Daou looks great.

Oh shit he can fight! The sound effects are killing me.

This woman is very pretty.

I really hope we see this little boy later on as a jaded caretaker of Daou’s character after decades of putting up with him.

This bullet-be-gone rock is so powerful.

Wow, this show is giving us the lore upfront. That’s refreshing.

Pond is playing a villain?!?

Bro, you ain’t get her no good shoes for running, or a proper change of clothes? Y’all gonna try to escape in her wedding dress?

Wow this guy speed ran ruining Vad’s life.

Damn, this Savant guy must really love Vad to give up the special stone for San.

100 years of chronic pain to find the one you love? I do love fantastical romance sometimes.

Thank you, show, for giving me adult Pao and then his memorial. I hope someone "does well in the interview" in this show.

It works really well that San is stuck on where Vaf died.

I know War Jirawat is probably having fun treating San like he's much older than him.

Oof, and he's fussing at people like an old man out of touch.

Wow. Very fucked up that he feels every wound he's ever healed from like this. At least they softened it by taking San's shirt off again, because it doesn't seem like he's built up any tolerance to it.

They were so sensible about protecting this stone. I'm now worried about how it inevitably gets stolen.

Goddamn how tall is Daou?? This girl San saved looked kinda tall.

Wow. Crashed into each other underneath a large red cloth.

Wow, Offroad is still so pretty.

A RED STRING!!!!!!!

I wonder who Vee lives with.

Oh my god is this the same store from Love in Translation?? I'm going to scream. I hope it's still a worker-owned cooperative.

Vee lives alone? Why the extra bed?

I do like the reaction shots from the goddess statue.

Wow, and now they're giving us a Vee shower scene. Hooray for us.

I like how flirty Vee feels. Haven't seen this from Offroad since Our Days.

WOW. FIRST EPISODE KISS??

Oh, that exhale sound was excellent. You could feel something being let go.

I see. It was just a dream. Still, I like them giving us that in the first episode!

Hey, so that was a really great first episode! We got all the backstory we needed, established the rules, set our time limit, and met a great cast of characters. I'm excited to see who Pond reincarnated as in this timeframe. There's a good mix of drama, comedy, action, and tragedy in this that I find really compelling. Everyone is also putting in constant effort into each scene. Also, Offroad has never been prettier, my goodness.

[smehur]

Drarry Fic Recs #3

Storm in a Teacup by @faith2wood

For reasons he'd rather not think about, Draco is obsessed with Potter's hair. This cannot end well.

It seems I can't put together a rec list without at least one story by Faith Wood. This one's soft in all the delightful ways I came to expect from the pen of my favorite author, with a sharp little pang of uncertainty that made it all the sweeter, and possibly the best-executed piece of dialog across all my reading. A beautiful fic that I'll be going back to over and over again.

Two Houses by @tackytigerfic

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

I already gushed about this story on here, but I'm going to do it again. It'd be impossible to overstate how much I loved it. From the world-building surrounding the two magical estates, sprinkled with a wealth of delectable little details, to the delightfully mature and tender romance. Slow burn in 11k? I didn't think it could be done either, but here we are. There was this beautiful scene where Harry said that being around Draco is restful. What a perfect word! It captures everything I enjoyed about this fic: the warmth and the contentment and the unwavering certainty that everything would work out. What a joy to read!

everything you could ever want by @eleadore

Coming back to Hogwarts has given Harry more time to reflect than he really wanted, and he's learned he never quite stopped being the envious little boy in the closet. Wanting and wanting, never to have. If what Harry wants is pain, who better than Draco Malfoy to provide?

Oh, man. Where do I even start? Talking about this fic feels a bit like talking about a a close friend: no matter what I say, I know I won't do justice to just how much it affected me. It charmed me, and tugged on my heartstrings, and it still has a grip on my imagination. Reading it was like falling in love: first, with the reticent, stopped-up Harry bursting with passion he's unable to express or act upon; and then, even harder, with the portrayal of Draco, whose thoughts and feelings we can only guess at till the very end. And even then, he doesn't speak: his answer is in the sweep of his lashes. Ahhh. Such beautiful prose and stunning characterization. Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, I stay.

crawlin' helpless on the floor by @stationintern

It doesn't take much to torment a man when he's three broken contracts away from being out of a job and down a newspaper.

What a lovely little gem of a fic! Astonishing, how much atmosphere and feeling it delivers in less than 2k. A unique idea too (at least in my reading so far), that Harry and Draco as adults (and friends) might start a business together - and that it might not work out. Incredibly vivid, captivating, and rewarding. 10/10 will read again.

Like This and Like This (Dreams of Lace) by @primavera-cerezos

Harry gets an accidental peek. He can’t think of anything else.

Soft and sweet, and sizzling hot. I'm not sure I entirely buy a Harry who gets confused and clumsy to the point of losing his language when confronted with Draco's charms, but it's so much fun to read and this fic pulls it off perfectly. Draco wearing lace underwear is canon for me now.

That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1

Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he'd thought would be easy after the war... with Draco Malfoy.

I'll be honest - I picked this up to see if a much-recommended author of some of this fandom's classics could sell me a trope I dislike (in this case, arranged marriage). And the answer is a loud, enthusiastic YES. Lol. I was sold on it within the first half of the first chapter. The premise is incredibly contrived, but the story built on it is so strong and compelling that I just didn't care. The pacing is phenomenal and the sex scenes are to die for. This is a whole new level of erotic prose for me; an amazing achievement, to have so little repetition, to infuse every encounter with so much energy and passion, even though it's a long story with many an encounter. It's just ridiculously good. I couldn't put it down and I'm already tempted to pick it right back up again.

I love this fandom. ❤️

[takami-takami]

Hey, this is the nonnie who sent the question about Hawks having a small crush on Endeavor

Thanks a lot for the response! I was kind of nervous sending in that ask especially because I haven't really seen anybody who hates Endeavor/EndHawks but has that headcanon, so I thought I might sound delulu. But I'm really glad you thought it was interesting.

I mainly came up with it because he just looks so soft in the scene where he catches Endeavor after the nomu fight and when he visits him in the hospital. Which had me like "aww, you're so cute but also pls get away from him bby".

I would just love to see how much he would react in a situation where he's getting scolded by Endeavor and thinks he deserves it only for someone else to step in and start popping off on his behalf. The struggle of whose side he should take. The confusion of why someone would defend him so passionately when he doesn't even think he deserves it. His poor little bird brain would blue screen.

YES Hawks has so much guilt and affection for Endeavor. You can genuinely see his heart crack when he sees him hurt.

Part of it is because of his parasocial attachment, born of a child's inability to conceptualize being truly alone to the degree that he was. Part of it really is psychological displacement. When Endeavor was hurt in the scene you described, Hawks not only felt the same painful empathy he usually feels when Endeavor is low, but also a chattering guilt. Guilt that it was his fault, that he is misleading him. If I remember correctly, his internal monologue when looking at him was an apology?

Anyways, Hawks feels the burden for others getting hurt lies entirely on him. He has felt this way ever since he was a child.

Hawks tends to project his feelings about his own family onto the Todoroki family. Like he projects so hard it's embarassing.

Also. As an aside. Hawks is extremely expressive with his eyes. There are multiple places in the story where Hawks' eyes are shown in direct literary parallel to the children in UA. Namely, Deku during the Lady Nagant scene (both are shown side by side with a spark in their eye) and the Ochaco scene where she gives a speech and Hawks thinks of people's hearts being connected.

This part is just my opinion, but I find this parallel to highlight part of Hawks as being distinctly childlike. Hawks has an inner child. Endeavor can bring out that inner child. I don't think we see such clear, trauma-based developmental ties in the other adult heroes in MHA save for Lady Nagant. We do see this literary parallel clearly for Dabi, though.

Hawks is intelligent and his support of Endeavor lies mostly in his values and assessment. That is where all of Hawks' decisions come from (except for hesitation).

Now here's the fun part:

Hawks interpreting those feelings as romantic. I find your theory fascinating because Hawks genuinely has little baseline for how to interpret normal attachments. We have not seen any evidence of Hawks forming a secure, healthy attachment until Tokoyami. A child— further evidencing the inner child healing portion of Hawks' character arc. Which is a choice for a reason, in my opinion, but I digress and got distracted.

Anyways, Hawks interpreting those feelings as romantic. Does he even know what romance is besides that thing that the fans around him keep telling him he's supposed to be a symbol of? Clearly he plays into it. He knows what is going on, socially speaking. But is it anything but shallow? His parents never loved each other. They didn't even love him.

So what the hell is this affection he's feeling? Why does his heart hurt when he sees Endeavor in pain, more than other people? Honestly, it's not that difficult to imagine Hawks misinterpreting his feelings for the.... Who-knows-how-many-th time.

I doubt he would give it much attention other than lightly indulging in the psychodynamic transference that swells in his chest. Vehemently deny it, even. A label for it is nowhere near the front of his mind, so he'd cock his head confused should you ask him about it.

Somebody help this boy. Somebody kiss the back of his hand and show him love is reciprocal. Someone tell him human connections can be more than a windowpane for people like him— someone scare the everliving fuck out of him and give him the best, bubbliest crisis. Someone make him bang his head against the wall and have him drown while doing it. Someone hold him to your chest and let him snot cry, someone blubber soothing things until he falls asleep, someone show him you're more than a father figure to him. Show him that the parentification was wrong for a little boy to endure. Show him he is loved for his heart and not his head or his body. Someone kiss him sweetly and spoon him to sleep with him against the wall and your back facing the door.

[lurkingshan]

On Gyu-ho, the Mundanity of Great Love, and the Destructive Nature of Shame

I have been trying to figure out what I want to write about this relationship, the primary focus of LITBC Part 3. Every time I think about Young and Gyu-ho, I just feel so sad. In some ways, this section of the book was much lighter than the previous ones, but it hit me hard all the same. Because this is the first time our narrator has had a relationship that actually feels mostly healthy, with the outcome he wants for it within his reach—until he self-destructs, of course.

It's all the details of their romance that makes it feel so real. The drunken, bloody makeout on the dirty floor of an Itaewon gay club. Young's passport misfire that ruined their first weekend getaway, and the subsequent nagging from Gyu-ho every time they traveled. The Pororo and Crong stickers on their phone cases. Gyu-ho's erectile dysfunction and Young's surprise at feeling contentment even with a less than ideal sex life. Young getting Gyu-ho a ticket to see that horrible production of Grease, and Gyu-ho hanging curtains and making sure Young ate real food. The breakups and makeups. Young crumpling up bits of paper and throwing them on the ground when he got frustrated with his writing, knowing Gyu-ho would come home and clean them up. The way they fought over the proper way to air dry the laundry, and the Pooh shirts from their Thailand trip slowly morphing into pajamas. A hundred little details of a life lived in companionship with another person, and so many mundane things that will never mean the same thing to Young again. Gyu-ho is his great love, and he doesn't need to say that explicitly to make it clear. It's in the way Young tells us his name. It's in every word on the page.

Part of what makes the end of this relationship so devastating is we could see how good it was for Young. Even as he tried to maintain his tone of emotional detachment, his affection for Gyu-ho shone through in the narration. While they were together, Young became more functional. He started living like an adult, got a proper job to pay the bills, and began writing in earnest. He found some things to like about himself and took pleasure in Gyu-ho's company. He began to envision more for himself, to imagine a life outside of Seoul where he could be free of some of his burdens, and even took steps to pursue it by applying for that position in Shanghai.

And then, of course, one of his burdens caught up with him. It was heartbreaking to realize alongside Young that his illness, his "Kylie," would prevent him from moving, and I was not at all surprised that rather than telling Gyu-ho and making a decision together on how to adjust their plans, he chose to keep his silence, encourage Gyu-ho to keep working toward the move to Shanghai, and then blithely force an ending to the relationship when it was too late for Gyu-ho to change course. That's exactly the Young we know, but it was no less frustrating for being expected. His shame, and the way it rears up and poisons all his relationships, is perhaps the most consistent thing about these separate-but-connected stories of his life. I wish he had chosen something different, that he wasn't so consumed by guilt and self-loathing and his abysmal sense of self-worth, that he could have trusted Gyu-ho to be his partner in this. But I understand why he did what he did, and why he didn't want to hold Gyu-ho back.

This section got to me so much because it was particularly painful to watch Young self-destruct after finally finding a relationship that was good for him, and where he had something to offer to his partner in return. Everything we learned about Gyu-ho told us this could have had a very different ending, if only Young would have let it.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

The fact that nobody has thought of a fastfood au where Spider is this neglected teenager working at McDonald's so that he can save up to like move out and get away from Qauritch (he's so desperate to get out that college isn't even on his radar atm) and Neteyam is this popular boy at their school who's is a year younger than him and comes in to McDonald's with his little sister frequently and Spider doesn't think he even knows his name but one day on their way out Neteyam turns to him and says "have a good day Spider" or some shit like that and the romance only grows from there with Neteyam figuring out his problems and trying to help him/get him into a good collage and I mean honestly people the fic just writes itself.

UGH I LOVE IT, I am simply shocked no one has written me personally a nocorro fic yet. A nice long one with all the pain and drama we've been describing but I want the COMFORT TOO PLEASE.

But anyways, you've brought up something I've been mulling over for a while now for one of my headcanon posts. Part of Neteyam's pressure and expectations come from him being the next Olo'eyktan. I can't figure out how to translate this into a modern au. Most of the time it'd be easy to make him the heir to a big company or the son of a politician in a weird Young Royals way, but clown couple Jake and Neytiri Sully simply do NOT have the vibes for that, nor does it fit their characters. I've thought about maybe Neytiri's family running a large non-profit that Neteyam is somewhat expected to take over, or perhaps something like the free clinic in my other au.

Either way, the reason I bring it up is because I love the idea of them both having similar but fundamentally different problems to bond over. This is what I mean, bear with me:

-Spider works at McDonalds to save money like you said. He's barely got any friends because he just moved there from another one of his dads deployments, and he's so busy picking up every possible shift he can that he can. He needs the money. He opens before school and closes most nights.

-Neteyam picks up Tuk from ballet practice at night on Wednesday's, because it is his parents Date Night. He gets his sister McDonalds one night because he stayed up way too late studying for an exam last night and he's far too tired to cook. The drive through is manned by the prettiest boy ever.

-By the third Wednesday Tuk is suspicious, but he keeps buying her McDonalds as a bribe to keep her mouth SHUT about it. At least, she keeps her mouth shut to the family. She won't stop talking to him about it. It's always "Neteyam, did you see McDonalds Guy today? I think he goes to your school, he has to. Neteyam, if we go to McDonalds tomorrow will he be there too? Does he only work Wednesdays?" She's like his inner thoughts because he wants to know all those things too.

-I mean, it's only a matter of time before Tuk opens her big fat mouth TO Spider. She rattles off personal questions like she's the goddamn census, and Neteyam wants to die.

-But, he learns quickly that Spider is a military brat and he wants nothing more than not to be in the military. It sparks something for Neteyam, because he wants nothing more than to be like his parents, and do what they do and do it just as well. It's the same sort of long shadow, just a different tactic for getting out from under it.

-Tuk is sick the next Wednesday mysteriously, but Neteyam is still craving McDonalds.

-It becomes a regular thing, but not on Wednesdays. Wednesdays he starts sometimes bringing Tuk home for a regular adult meal. But Thursday's he spends at McDonalds, and he brings Spider real food in Tupperware containers marked with the name Sully like Spider has other Tupperware to mix it up with.

-Somehow it becomes almost every night. Doing his homework in a booth, Spider joining him when he's free, sliding in and out. Neteyam's full attention on him every time he has a free second.

-One night Neteyam invites him over. Neteyam stayed until closing time and suddenly can't bear the thought of Spider going home, to no one if he's lucky and his dad if he isn't. Spider refuses and after that they don't speak for a couple days, silence in the booth. No one says anything but Neteyam still shows and brings Tupperware, and Spider still slides in to join him when he has a free moment.

-Eventually Spider agrees, and Neteyam is forced to show up at close to nine pm with a stranger that he has never mentioned but Tuk is DELIGHTED to see.

-Jake and Neytiri are confused but can recognize a tired, fairly neglected kid when they see one so they offer up the basement couch with no fanfare at all.

-Neteyam is slightly peeved because he was going to have Spider share his bed, it's a king it's plenty big enough, but Neytiri wasn't born yesterday lol. Even Jake is like nah nah, you've been gay since we watched the first Percy Jackson movie kid. Go have a sleepover with Tsireya or something.

-I think Jake Sully has a fairly excellent gaydar, honed from time in the military. You gotta know which guys to fuck. @dinas-bracelet this is the bi Jake Sully agenda.

This is a bonus because this is already FAR too long:

-Neteyam gets increasingly exasperated because no matter how many nights Spider is there or how long into their relationship it gets, Spider downright refuses to move from the basement couch. He will cling to it like a cat if Neteyam tries to move him. He goes boneless and becomes a dead weight.

-Finally Neteyam just sleeps down there one night. This concept has clearly never occured to Spider, who upon realizing there is no moving Neteyam (he can go boneless too, damnit), lays there stiff as a board mummy-wrapped in blankets to keep Neteyam's hands off of him. When he falls asleep though, Neteyam gets in there. Spider is unconsciously tactile, and basically spoons him the entire night.

-The next morning Neytiri walks into the basement to check that Spider is awake for work, turns around and goes back to the top of the stairs, and then walks down again really loudly to alert them to her presence.

[darkscorpiox]

Utena - Analysis on the (first) ending

I did an analysis on the opening, so here’s one on the first ending.

Warning: very, VERY long post and mention of scenes from the show, enough to be considered spoilers (sorry)

Missing truth and forever, kissing love and true your heart. Hold me in your arms so true. The key to unlock tomorrow is reality.

We start with the silhouettes of two individuals, male and female respectively, close to each other with reddish/orangish roses in the background. A picturesque depiction of the fairytale romance between a man and his woman: we only see the superficial layer of the individuals and the roses are there to maintain the illusion of a romantic narrative. Then, we have outlines and colors. And though we get to see the princess’s face, it is not the case with the prince. The fact that one is more exposed (vulnerable) than the other shows some degree of inequality between them. It doesn’t help that Utena, unlike the outspoken way we see her in the first episode, appears subdued in the arms of her beloved Prince. This shows that things aren’t as they seem. And that’s without the lyrics of the song.

Missing truth and forever actually mean the same thing. The latter is another way to say “eternity” and eternity is the pain Anthy suffers at the hands of patriarchy, the truth kept hidden behind the veneer which is the Prince. In contrast, kissing love and true your heart allude to the climax of the last episode, when Utena’s sincere love for Anthy reaches the heart of the latter’s authentic self. Knowing this, the arms so true aren’t the prince’s, but Utena’s and / or Anthy’s.

The third line refers to the “revolution” everyone seeks. To change the world, to be free of the limbo that is the past, they must face and move toward reality.

I want to keep on smashing lies apart.

This line shows similarities to the Student council’s speech about “crack[ing] the world’s shell”, so they must share the same message. Interestingly, Utena closes her eyes and Anthy opens hers. It can imply that the former refuses to see the lies presented to her, but the latter is the one aware of the machinations behind the scenes and Akio’s true nature, so it might be opposite, the denial of the truth.

No matter how much the two of us may talk… …you still just can’t see anything. Excuses are fitting for the adults who just cling to old stories.

The first two lines are a good summary of the dynamic between Utena and Akio. The former is under the princely charm of the latter, but subconsciously, she knows that he only sees her as a frail little girl to use as he pleases, meaning he might as well see nothing (denying the ugly truth). When the third line comes, the trail of roses ends, indicating Utena’s realization that the Prince is not who she thought he was (Akio). It’s the end of the fantasy, the lie, created from her idealized memories.

The angels who were passed over don’t need wings to fly!

As a witch, a fallen woman, Anthy is spurned by society. However, that doesn’t mean she has to settle with the little given to her (Dios / Akio). That’s what Utena wants to tell her (hence why she occupies the screen for a moment before we focus on Anthy). By choosing Anthy instead of the fairytale happy ending, Utena becomes a fallen woman as well, but she refuses to be just that. Her self-worth should not be determined by others, especially a system which limits her to a “good” or “bad” social standing (Madonna-whore complex). If the world won’t give her the same path as everyone else’s, especially men’s, then she will make one for herself (and Anthy).

Missing truth and forever, kissing love and true your heart. I like who I’ll be tomorrow and… …I’ll believe in myself because I want to believe. I want to keep on hating lies.

(Sorry for the quality. I had to lower it to stay under the limit allowed for the image/GIF file size in one post.)

A repeat of the first four lines. This time, it’s about the belief in a better future and the lack of regret in leaving the past and the lies behind.

Utena and Anthy are both in the clutches of the Prince / patriarchy, but this time, the greenish wilting-looking roses are in the background. It can imply that the illusion is now dead to them and that they can finally see the truth.

In conclusion, the ending summarizes and foreshadows Utena’s and Anthy’s character development.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: The End is Where We Start From

“Aziraphale, hello. It’s er, been a long time.” “Yes, dreadfully long. You look different.” He immediately coloured in evident embarrassment. “I mean, of course you look different, as do I of course, I didn’t mean bad different, that is to say…” Something inside of Crowley, something that had been in a deep freeze for several eons, was starting to thaw. It was letting little bits and pieces of familiarity break loose to float back into their rightful places in his soul. One of those pieces, those round, blue eyes, suddenly snapped into place, and he felt a corresponding wave of long-forgotten feeling wash through him. Aziraphale is anxious. Make Aziraphale happy. “Yeah,” he interrupted. “D’you wanna… get a coffee or something?” *** Crowley and Aziraphale meet by chance on the street. They've met before, in their youth, in a different life. Some very difficult things have happened since then. Will they be able to find their way back to each other and to themselves?

Length: 23,411 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥

Best for: At Home, Angst, Romance, Human AU

Triggers: Grief, Period typical homophobia

Read it here, fic by tiresius

*Minor Spoilers* This is a very beautiful story of grief, longing, and healing. A human AU where Crowley and Aziraphale spent a summer falling in love as teenagers, and have now reconnected 30 years later. The years were not kind to either of them. Crowley's grief hangs off every part of him. I love that the author does not give his full backstory until he feels comfortable enough to tell Aziraphale. It feels almost like we, the readers, had to earn that trust as well. I loved all the flashbacks to their teenage years. That summer was all about new experiences and finding a joy that they weren't allowed to have. Only allowed the briefest moments of freedom before it has to be tamped down, hidden, explained away. Their adult selves are still dealing with that trauma along with a whole new set of pains. But they will learn to be patient and take care of each other. I love the hope that this ends on. I'm sure there will be more bad days in their futures, but now they are no longer alone with those burdens.

Love love, love this story. The author manages to write something melancholy, without being depressing. It knows grief, and how heavy it is. How hard it can be to manage, and treats both characters with such grace and understanding. Mostly safe in public, there are a couple sexual scenes but nothing too explicit. I suggest an at home read though, it's not a triggering story but it's heavier topics.

Read it here, fic by tiresius

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Taking That Second Chance -- Chapter 5

Summary: After the end of 4a (pre 4b), Killian dies in a random accident and Emma thinks about all of the time she wasted with him and how she regrets they didn't have more. The next thing Emma knows, Mary Margaret is waking her up in the EF. Emma realizes that she's travelled back in time, so she has a choice to make: follow the same path, or change it so she and Killian have more time.

Start here on FF.net and here on A03.

Chapter 5 is here and here.

And below:

Also, I'm saying off the top: yes, Belle is going to come off as incredibly naive in this chapter. It's a part of her character arc. Bear with me please.

Chapter 5

I find the best way to love someone is not to change them, but instead, help them reveal the greatest version of themselves. — Steve Maraboli

They shouldn’t have kissed. She shouldn’t have kissed him. Or did he kiss her? It didn’t matter; it shouldn’t have happened. Guilt festered in her heart as Emma refused to look at Hook as Anton climbed down the beanstalk, both of them holding onto Anton. It was much faster than their climb the first time around. 

Emma needed to figure out how to shrink Anton. 

Hook’s eyes burned into her. He wanted to talk about it.

She couldn’t let him. It wasn’t fair to him that she kissed him. Emma had months of a friendship and romance and memories of private talks and secrets revealed all twirling around in her head. Her love for him was already there, but Hook didn’t have any of that. 

He just had his revenge, his past, and his pain. For him, she was a stranger that came into his life and completely upended it. 

Starting something with him now, when she had so much of an advantage over their relationship, was wrong. It felt like manipulating him. She couldn’t do that to him. No, if they were going to be allies and maybe friends, Emma needed to put distance between them. 

Once they rejoined the others, Emma would focus on getting home and figuring out where to go from there. She still wasn’t sure about the consequences of her time traveling and probably needed to look into that when they got back. Of course, she still wasn’t sure if she could even tell anyone the truth about time traveling. If she told anyone, they’d think she was crazy. No, it was better to keep it to herself. 

“So, when we get down there, how are you going to explain me?” Anton asked after a prolonged silence. He knew there was something going on between Emma and Hook, the tension too palpable, but wisely chose not to comment.

“We’ll tell them that you’re on our side.” Emma said. “As for your size, I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“How long have you had magic?” Anton asked. 

“I think I was born with it.” Emma lied, pretending to theorize because Rumple wasn’t around to confirm it for her. So, she was rolling with manipulating the narrative as realistically as she could. “My parents are True Love, and I’ve been told that that’s the most powerful magic of all, so I guess that’s why I have magic. I just kind of discovered it though, and completely on accident.”

“Who are your parents?” Anton asked. 

“Prince Charming and Snow White.” Emma said. “My mom’s actually here.” Which reminded her that she still had to apologize to Snow for her harsh words the other day. It wasn’t fair to Snow how Emma reacted; her reaction coming more from being overprotective of Killian as well as hurt that her mother had so little faith in her. Was trust too much to ask? Was faith in her abilities too much to ask? Probably not, but Snow was trying to mother to an adult, who never had a mother before, and Emma knew that the situation wasn’t easy for her. 

“Never heard of them.” Anton admitted. “After my family was killed, I never came down here.”

“Well, they’re heroes.” Emma said. “They fought a war against King George and the Evil Queen and they won. Until the Evil Queen cursed everyone.”

Anton had so many questions. Spending years in isolation had that effect. As he asked everything, Emma filled him in on the stories, explaining how she learned all of this from her son’s magical storybook and explaining her role in breaking the curse. 

Hook remained silent the entire trip. 

When they finally got to the bottom, Anton helped them down as Mulan, Snow, Marian, and Aurora looked warily and somewhat fearfully at Anton. 

“So, this is Anton.” Emma introduced. “He’s actually a good guy and helped us out. He’ll be coming with us to Storybrooke.”

Anton smiled politely, waving a bit shyly. 

The other women gave polite smiles as well, and Mulan helped Anton find a place nearby to settle for the night. It was too late to travel.

As Marian, Hook, and Aurora settled around the fire Snow pulled Emma away from the others to talk. 

“Emma, where’s a giant going to live in Storybrooke?” Snow asked. 

“I’m working on it.” Emma shrugged.

Snow could only nod, but she still wasn’t sure. Emma had been so closed off in Storybrooke, but now, not only had she given the infamous Captain Hook a chance, a giant was getting a second chance too? What was going on with her? “Emma, is there anything that you want to tell me?”

Emma knew that Snow was trying to figure out why she appeared as a completely different person, but Emma wasn’t going to tell her about time traveling, not until she found out more about how she ended up back here. Emma wanted to say something though. “Actually, yeah. I wanted to apologize for what I said. About not needing you.” Emma looked away, trying to find the right words. “I know that this isn’t easy for you, me being an adult. You were barely a mother before everything was taken away from you.” Braving it, Emma glanced at her mother. 

Snow’s expression was one of pained sadness. 

“I never had a mother.” Emma said. “Well, that’s not completely true. I was adopted. The Swans adopted me when I was a baby because they thought they couldn’t have their own kids. When I was three, they had their own baby girl and put me back in the system. After that, well, it would be a kindness to call any of my foster parents actual parents.” Her voice shook as old memories long buried surfaced. “So, when I say I’ve done fine without you, what I mean is that I survived without you.” Tears burned her eyes. This was the most open she’d ever been with her mother. Even in her other life, she feared opening up this much to Snow, not wanting the other woman to feel guilty. This time around, Emma wanted to deal with her past. Maybe losing Killian had her realizing other things, like how much she still kept most people at arm’s length. “I don’t know how to be the daughter you want. I am who I am, and it’ll be hard to be for me to accept parents, but I can try.”

Snow was openly, silently crying as Emma spoke, torn as she was glad that Emma opened up to her, but heartbroken at hearing that her daughter’s past wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. Giving up Emma was supposed to ensure that she grew up to break the curse, but Snow always hoped that Emma ended up somewhere where she’d be loved. When the curse first broke, she was so happy to be reunited with Emma and Charming, that she didn’t let herself think too much about it, wanting to be a family again. It was clear Emma had walls that were hard to climb and she wasn’t one to be openly vulnerable with people. Now, Emma was trying, clearly emotionally exposed. Snow cleared her throat, reaching out, taking Emma’s hand. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough, and it never will be enough, but I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know, Mom.” Emma said. “But it’s not your fault. Or Dad’s. Yes, you chose to send me away, but I’ve been thinking about it.” Truthfully she had been thinking about it for months, but never voiced it to her Snow or her David in the future. “When I said which curse would be worse, us together under the curse or us missing out on what could’ve been, I realized that you and Dad really didn’t have a choice. The curse didn’t give any of us a choice.” 

“I’m still sorry.” Snow hugged Emma to her. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. That’s a promise.” 

Emma hugged her mother back tightly, feeling as raw and exposed as she had been talking with Hook on the beanstalk. Maybe this was a part of why she time travelled? Maybe she didn’t just need to make up for lost time with Hook, but with everyone else too. Her relationship with her parents had gotten better after she and Henry returned to Storybrooke after Zelena’s curse, but Emma knew that it wasn’t anywhere close to the relationship she or her parents wanted. 

Maybe she was meant to fix all of that. After all, she was the Savior. Surely she could make things better with her parents this time around. 

As Snow let go of her and they walked back towards the fire, Emma vowed to try harder in mending her relationship with her parents. They all deserved it after everything they’d been through. 

Hook’s eyes found hers and Emma looked away. She knew she’d have to deal with him eventually, but still exposed from her talk with her mother, Emma stayed as far as she could from Hook, eating dinner quickly, before claiming exhaustion as an excuse to be left alone for the rest of the night. 

The Savior could only do so much in one night.

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

The flames licked at her skin, causing Aurora to jump back. When were these nightmares going to end? It was too vivid, too hot, too real. Tears started in her eyes as frustration mounted. How could she get rid of these nightmares? 

“Help me, please.” She whimpered to no one as she backed away from the flames. There shouldn’t be a reason to be scared. This wasn’t the real world; it couldn’t hurt her, but it felt real. The flames were hot as though she was really here and not in a dream world. 

Her eyes caught a shadow. She wasn’t alone. “Who’s there?”

The shadowy figure moved a little closer. 

Even so, there wasn’t much she could really see. The figure was still too far away. “Who are you?” She called out. 

A voice came across the flames but still it was a muted mumble. 

They wouldn’t be able to hear each other over the flames. 

Aurora warily watched the flames dance. Could she cross them without getting burned? If this was a dream, were the flames real? Gingerly, she reached out her hand to touch only to retreat when the heat got to be too much. 

Her eyes found the figure again. “Can you cross?” 

The muffled voice still wasn’t clear over the flames, but the figure stepped a little closer. It was still in shadow, but Aurora could tell that the figure was shorter than her with a small frame. 

Was that a child? How was a child in such a horrible place as this? 

While Aurora wanted nothing more than to wake up, she couldn’t leave a child in this place. But how was she going to cross? 

Looking around her, she saw how everything, even the curtains, was engulfed by flames. There wasn’t anything she could use to protect herself from the fire. 

The only way through was to brave it and go through somehow. Aurora walked alongside the flames, trying to find an opening. If she could find any low enough, she could jump. Not that this dress was conducive to any kind of jumping. Eyeing the flames for a long while, Aurora noticed a pattern where some spots would flicker lower then shoot up before lowering again. As she watched, she counted how many breaths it took for the fire to change height. 

She counted about a dozen times to see if it was consistent. Once she figured it was, Aurora walked away from the flames as far as she could. Here in this dream realm, nightmare realm, wherever this was, Phillip’s dagger was still in the folds of her dress. Taking it in her hand, she knelt down and cut through her skirts until her dress was just above the knee. Once that was done, Aurora discarded the ragged scraps of fabric and stood. 

Her gaze found the flames with her opening. It was high again, but she didn’t know how long it had been that way. When they finally lowered after a few still seconds, Aurora broke into a run. Jumping over the flames just in time, Aurora landed on her feet, quickly stumbling into the ground. Groaning, she pushed herself up only to come face to face with a boy, who looked about nine or ten years old. 

His bright green eyes looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?” He asked, helping her up. 

“I’m fine.” Aurora said as she looked down at herself. Luckily there were no signs of burns. Her poor dress was completely ruined. Her gaze returned to the boy. “I’m Aurora.”

“I’m Henry.” The boy said. “Were you under a sleeping curse too?” 

“I was.” Aurora answered, surprised that someone cursed a little boy. Then she registered his name. Henry. Wasn’t Emma’s son named Henry? To be certain, she asked another question. “How did you become cursed?”

Henry grimaced. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. How do you explain to a stranger that one of your moms was trying to kill the other one and that he was the one that prevented it.? “I ate a poisoned apple turnover.”

Her brow arched at that, but stranger things were known to happen. “Would this have been in Storybrooke?”

His eyes widened. “How do you know about Storybrooke?”

“I’m traveling with two women from there.” Aurora said. “Emma Swan and Snow White.”

“My mom’s with you?” Henry leaned forward, eyes glittering excitedly. “Are they okay?” His mom and his grandma were still alive! This was great news. He’d have to tell grandpa as soon as he was awake.

“They’re fine.” Aurora said. “We’re trying to help them get back to Storybrooke.”

“Where are you?” Henry asked, trying to get as much information as possible. 

“We’re in the Enchanted Forest.” Aurora said. “We might have a portal back to your Storybrooke. Well, as long as Cora doesn’t get in our way.”

“You have a portal?” Henry was relieved to hear that. “Wait, who’s Cora?” He vaguely remembered that name. It had to be someone from…wait. He did know that name. She was mentioned in his book as…Regina’s mother. “Not…are you…do you mean the Evil Queen’s mother?”

Aurora nodded. “She’s here in this land and she’s got magic. She wants a portal as well.”

“Why?” Henry remembered the book said something about a pirate being sent to kill Cora before the curse. 

“She wants to reunite with the Evil Queen.” Aurora told him. “Likely to start a new reign of terror in your realm.” 

Henry swallowed. While his mom might not be terrorizing people now, there was no guarantee that Regina was changing her ways. “Okay, I’ll warn people over here.”

That was a good idea. “Do you want me to give your mom and grandmother a message?” 

Henry thought about it for a moment. “Just that I’m safe with grandpa and that we both miss them and we love them.” Henry figured that was good enough for now. “And, we can’t wait for them to come home.” He smiled at the real possibility that his mom and grandma would be home any day now. 

“I’ll be sure to tell them.” Aurora returned the smile just as she felt herself being tugged awake. “I think I’m waking up. Be careful, Henry.”

With that, the fiery room faded away. 

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

Belle woke up clenching her sheets, gasping harshly as the images of Rumple killing the dwarves stuck in her mind as she came into the waking world. Her nightmare was so vivid; it felt so real, almost as it were a premonition itself. 

No, no, that’s not going to happen. She told herself. Rumple promised you that he would stop using magic. He’s a changed man now. He changed for her, because he loved her. A smile crept on her face, banishing away the last, horrifying vestiges of her nightmares. 

Looking around her, she found herself alone in the darkened bedroom. Hadn’t Rumple stayed with her as she fell asleep? Where did he go? She hoped he didn’t think he’d be intruding, staying with her all night. That’s exactly what she wanted; him near, his presence a comfort. 

Feeling a desperate need to go find him and seek out his comfort once again, Belle stood from the bed. Her hands reached for her robe, throwing it around her shoulders for warmth as her room was rather chilled. Though it was late winter, which certainly wasn’t kind to older houses such as this one. The old wood floors were cold as well, so she secured her slippers to her feet. Once that was done, she slowly opened the bedroom door, leaving the room. 

Her feet carried her to Rumple’s bedroom, only for her to find the door ajar. Opening it further, she saw it was empty and the bed was made. As the Dark One, Rumple didn’t sleep like she did. 

She shivered again, and not from the cold. Had he not brought magic to Storybrooke, would he be sleeping? Would he be a normal man? Or with the curse broken, would he be the Dark One again whether magic was here or not? 

Belle hadn’t dared ask him any of these questions. While she loved him, she was more than aware of how volatile he could be, especially when pushed. It scared her, as did his magic. He  promised her that he wouldn’t use it anymore, but she knew that was easier said than done. 

Perhaps, one day, she could try True Love’s Kiss again. It almost worked back in the Enchanted Forest; it could work this time as well. Rumple was trying to be a better man. Surely, he wouldn’t push her away this time. 

As her search continued through the rather large manor, which she was still very much unfamiliar with, there was no sign of Rumple. Just where was he? How big was this house? It was almost like a castle with the many winding and connecting hallways. While there was plenty of windows, there were also heavy curtains, which brought darkness with them, causing her search to be much slower as she felt around her surroundings. 

Finally, she turned a corner, intent on at least finding the kitchen for some water, when a glimpse of light caught her eye. 

A yellow tinted sliver of light came from behind a slightly open door.

Where did that door lead to? Was Rumple there, or had he simply left a light on? 

Curiosity outweighed any hesitance on her part. After all, Rumple told her that his home was her home now, and she was welcome anywhere. Still, she kept her footsteps light and slow. Creeping ever so silently towards the door, Belle’s breathing slowed and softened so that she wouldn’t be heard. 

She reached the door. 

Now, she hesitated. What was she going to find behind this door? She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself. Belle blinked her eyes open. Wait, why did she need to prepare? Rumple wasn’t going to keep secrets from her. Not anymore. Right? 

If you trusted him, you wouldn’t have gotten out of bed. A voice in her head reasoned. You know what he’s up to. 

She had a feeling, of course. 

Slowly, she crouched down and peered through the crack. Down in what appeared to be a basement, Rumple sat at a table, books of magic, magical items, a cauldron, and scraps of paper with notes littered the table and space around him. Not too far was his spinning wheel surrounded by gold straw. 

He was mixing together a potion. 

He was breaking his promise to her. 

She backed away and eased along the hallway, just as silent as before to not draw his attention. Her eyes watered thickly and her throat tightened. 

Had her wishes truly not meant anything to him? Had he really thought so little of her that he’d blatantly use magic in his home, knowing she wasn’t all that far away? And really, sneaking around at night? Had he thought that she wouldn’t catch him? Did he think himself to be clever?

She entered her bedroom in a daze, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks. Shutting her door with a soft click, Belle pressed her back against it, descending to the floor. Her knees met her chest as she held herself. She bit her lip to keep her cries quiet. 

She trusted him to do as she asked. She trusted him to put his faith in them. Yet, he couldn’t give up magic. Not even for her. 

He never would. 

Heaving a breath, trying to pull herself together, Belle was hit with clarity. 

If he wouldn’t give up magic for her, then she had to give him up for herself. 

She couldn’t be in a relationship with a man she couldn’t trust to not lie to her. If he couldn’t be open with her, or lean on her, and his preference was sneaking around at night to practice magic, then she needed to walk away.

Letting him go would be hard, but Belle believed that perhaps, if Rumple truly believed that their love was worth fighting for, then he’d chose to be a better man. 

Her decision made, Belle stood with determination.

This was going to end, no matter how much it hurt them. 

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

What was she doing here?

It was the ass crack of dawn, black night turning into a grey, dull winter’s morning. She should be in bed, sleeping in the comfort of her blankets, warmed by central heating. 

Instead, Henry’s words were getting to her, having kept her awake most of the night. 

I think you could be good if you really wanted to be. 

Could she be good? Did she even have the capacity for it? Regina had no idea. For so long, she’d been filled with hatred and anger. There was a void where her heart was, and even Henry never quite filled it. All she wanted for so long was for everyone else to suffer. 

Victory had been hers for a time, but now…

Now she was all alone and the most hated woman in Storybrooke. Even her own son didn’t want to be around her, preferring to trick her so that he could find a way to bring his other mother back to their realm. 

Just thinking of Emma Swan filled Regina with such a blinding rage that her knuckles turned white as they gripped her steering wheel. Everything would’ve been just fine if that woman never came to town. Her curse would still be intact and Henry…well, she would’ve figured out sooner or later how to deal with him. 

Gritting her teeth, Regina almost started her car to return home. 

She caught sight of red hair. 

Archie was walking up to the building where his practice was, with Pongo trailing along next to him on his leash. 

I think you could be good if you really wanted to be.

That’s why she was here. Her anger still simmered, but at least it wasn’t an all consuming rage. Henry believed she could change if she tried. If he believed in her, could she believe in herself? Ha, likely not.

But…but this would at least be a step in the right direction. 

Though she didn’t exactly have faith in the abilities of a former cricket. How effective could his form of therapy even be? 

She scoffed, once again debating about turning the ignition on and leaving. She couldn’t be good. Her blood was full of dark magic, just like her mother’s. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from that tree, did it? 

Her stomach sank at the thought. 

Was she like her mother? Memories of using magic on Henry time and time again throughout his life assailed her. Everything she did, she learned from her mother. It was no wonder that Henry hated her. 

I don’t hate you. He’d said that of course, but had he just been saying that because he needed her out of her office? Or had he truly meant that? Did he really believe in her? 

Henry had such a good heart. He was nothing like her. So much of him came from his grandparents and even Miss Swan. There was nothing of her in him despite raising him for ten years. 

Though, with how she turned out, that was probably for the best. Even if it meant Henry didn’t want to be around her. 

But Regina wanted to be around Henry; she wanted to be in his life. 

As long as she was the Evil Queen, as long as people viewed her as such, then she’d never be able to be in his life. She’d be ostracized at best and likely arrested or killed out of revenge at worst. Sure, her magic was back, but it was spotty. There was no guarantee she could defend herself when the time for it came. 

She stared at Archie’s building, not knowing how long it had been since he’d gone in, but the sun was higher in the sky now. Grey was tinted with bright blue at the horizon. 

Regina swallowed. 

There was a choice to be made, and she had to make it now. 

If she went through with this, if she tried to change, could she achieve her happy ending? Or was it better to stay as she was and be the villain everyone saw when they looked at her? 

Closing her eyes, Regina warred with herself. To get therapy or not to get therapy. There wasn’t a guarantee that it would work. Perhaps she had nothing but a dark and wretched heart. So many choices led her down her path to darkness. It hadn’t bothered her until Henry.

What if he meant it? What if he truly did believe that she could change?

“There’s one way to find out.” Regina whispered to herself. She took the keys out of the ignition and grabbed her purse. Locking her car, her heels clicked on the pavement, the only noise echoing on the silent street. 

She paused before the door. 

You can do this. She told herself as she took a long, deep breath. For Henry. You can do this for Henry. 

Opening the door, Regina took the first step forward to changing her life. 

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

Waking with a start, Aurora sat up quickly, looking around camp, finding everyone already awake and the sun rising over the horizon. 

“Are you all right?” Mulan asked, kneeling next to her with concern. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Nightmare. Aurora whipped her head around, spotting Emma sitting with her mother as they divided up berry portions for breakfast. “Emma!” Aurora scrambled to her feet, rushing over to the startled blonde. “I saw Henry.” She said as she dropped in front of her.

The others were just as startled, sharing confused looks as to what Aurora meant. 

“Henry?” Emma blinked. “How did you…?” She trailed off as the realization hit her. So much had been going on that Emma forgot Aurora and Henry had both been under the sleeping curse. Their nightmares were some kind of dream realm.

Luckily, Aurora quickly filled in the silence, unknowingly covering Emma’s remembering. “We were both put under the sleeping curse. So, whatever realm I’m in in my dreams, Henry’s there too. We can communicate.”

Hook scrutinized Emma’s expression. When she had begun to ask Aurora about how she saw Henry, Hook could’ve sworn realization crossed Emma’s face, as though she knew the answer before Aurora revealed it. How could that be?

“You talked to him?” Emma leaned forward. “Is he okay? What did he say?” She knew that he was with her dad by now, and she could find a way to thank David for getting Henry out of Regina’s custody for the moment when they returned to Storybrooke. Still, Emma wanted more than anything for Henry to be all right and knowing if he was would ease her mind at least.

Aurora smiled. “He said that he’s safe with your father. They both miss you and Snow and they want you home.”

“We’re getting there.” Snow said, excited and determined. “Did you tell him we were on our way?”

“I did.” Aurora’s face fell. “I also warned him about Cora.”

“That’s wise.” Hook spoke. “Emma said the Dark One brought magic to Storybrooke. Which means if Cora gets there, she’ll have magic as well.”

“And if she gets Regina on her side,” Snow started. “Storybrooke might be in for a war.” She hated to think about going through another war against Regina. They barely survived the last one, and if Cora was around this time, they could all very well be destroyed. And that wasn’t even accounting for Rumplestiltskin joining them or not. 

“We won’t let that happen.” Emma said, determination filling her. She stood then. “We’re going to use the portal before she can get the chance.”

“If she’s as powerful and clever as you all seem to fear,” Anton began, looking down at all of them from his great height, even as he was seated. “Then how are you going to stop her?”

No one was sure how to answer that. This was Cora after all.

“We’ll figure it out.” Emma said.

“We need to figure out how to get the ashes to work.” Snow said. “The sooner we do, the sooner we can get home and leave Cora here.” How to get the ashes to work though? Was Emma’s theory even correct? Could they still have magic even though the wardrobe burned?

Emma gritted her teeth. There was no way she could mention Lake Nostos without drawing suspicion. She wasn’t from here and she wasn’t suppose to have knowledge of Lake Nostos or the magical properties of the lake. There had to be some way to bring it up, but how? 

“Maybe we should return to the Safe Haven.” Marian suggested, an idea coming to her. “If Cora was posing as Lancelot, it’s possible she might continue to do so. If she is, then maybe we can trap her somehow. With her knowledge of magic, surely she knows how the ashes work?”

If Emma could cheer without looking insane, she would. How had she not thought of that? Cora might not return to Safe Haven, but if there was a chance she would, then they could stop her. Without Hook to cover for, Cora wouldn’t need to kill anyone, so they could get others on their side to help trap Cora. Then Emma could figure out how to get Cora to reveal the truth of Lake Nostos.

Hook wondered just why Emma looked relieved about that. There was nothing to be relieved of where Cora was concerned. While Emma had his trust, his instincts were telling him that there was more going on than any of them knew. Emma knew something and he’d figure out how to get her to talk. Though they still needed to discuss their kiss, and he hadn’t had much luck with that. It wouldn’t hurt to try again. 

“Do you really think she would return?” Aurora asked. 

“If she needs allies or some sort of cover, it’s a possibility.” Hook said, adding to the conversation.

Mulan glared at him with suspicion, which was nothing new. 

“Okay, we return to Safe Haven.” Snow agreed. “We trap Cora and we get the information we need.”

“Then we go home.” Emma added with a smile. They’d be back in Storybrooke in no time now. 

“Let’s get going then.” Mulan said, curtly. “We shouldn’t waste anymore daylight.”

As they broke down camp, Cora watched from the trees, her presence rendered invisible by her magic. It was almost cute that they thought it was possible to trap her. Well, she wouldn’t allow that of course. Safe Haven proved to be a problem as their returning there meant they'd gather allies. 

Cora’s lips curled into a cruel smile. If she did away with the people, then she’d prove to them just how much of a threat she was, especially when she revealed to them her hostage. They’d comply with her once they knew she’d do anything to get to Storybrooke. 

Transporting herself back to the Safe Haven, Cora began her work to defeat the heroes. 

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

Henry hurried down the stairs as soon as he was awake. 

Liam, being an early riser, was already sitting at the counter as David cooked bacon and eggs.

“Grandpa!” Henry practically crashed into David as he came to a stop. “Mom and Grandma are coming back!” 

“Whoa, wait, what?” David blinked, surprised by Henry’s statement and caught off guard by so much energy this early in the morning. He then registered exactly what Henry said. “Henry, what do you mean they’re coming back? How do you know that?”

“They’re with Sleeping Beauty.” Henry said. “Princess Aurora. She was under the Sleeping Curse too.” He spoke quickly, full of excitement at his discovery. “The room where the fire is has to be a realm when we’re asleep.”

“Okay, so you saw this woman in your dream?” David asked slowly, trying to remember if he knew of a Princess Aurora. The name sounded familiar. He took the cooked food off the stove to focus on Henry. 

“Yeah.” Henry said. “She’s traveling with Mom and Grandma. They’re getting a portal home.”

Relief was the ultimate understatement for what David felt in that moment. His emotions overwhelmed him as a weight lifted off of his shoulders. Emma and Snow were coming home. They would be reunited and be a whole family once again. 

Liam wanted to be happy for his friend. He knew how upset Henry was that his mom and grandma were gone, but he couldn’t stop the jealousy settling in his bones. Henry would have his whole family again, and Liam would be alone. His papa was still gone and then when Emma and Snow came home, there wouldn’t be room for him to stay here. He’d be kicked out and on his own again. Was it his fate to always be alone?

“Did she say when they’d be home?” David asked. 

“She said they were woking on it.” Henry said. Then his smile faded and he grew serious. 

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked. 

“They said a woman named Cora was trying to come too.” Henry said.

“Cora?” David’s look of horror chilled both boys. If David was scared of her, then she was seriously bad news. “Cora is alive?”

Henry nodded. “She wants to come here for Regina. Aurora said that if that happens, then they’ll terrorize everyone.”

David turned grim. “They will.” Seeing the scared expressions on both boys’ faces, David added. “But we’ll fight them. We won’t let them win, all right?”

The boys nodded, but they weren’t all that reassured. 

“Hey, I promise.” David started. “If Cora comes here, then we’ll stop her and Regina from hurting people.” Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, David sighed. “I know neither of you want to go to school right now, but it’s safer there. I have to warn others about Cora and we’ll need to prepare.”

“We can help.” Liam protested. Storybrooke was their home too; they could help defend it. 

“No, boys.” David was stern. “You have to go to school. I know you want to help and I know you’re scared, but this is most definitely a job for adults. If it comes to fighting Regina and Cora, you both are at risk of getting hurt.” David grasped Henry’s shoulder in one hand, and reached out a reassuring hand to Liam’s forearm. “It’s good to want to help, but you both have to promise me that you’ll listen to us and stay out of this fight. We can’t beat Regina and Cora if we’re worried about you two, okay?”

Reluctantly, both boys agreed. 

“Okay, let’s eat up and get dressed.” David said, plating up their bacon and eggs. As the boys ate, David walked away into his and Snow’s bedroom area and dialed Ruby’s number. 

“Hey, David.” Ruby answered after only a couple of rings.

“Hey.” David kept his voice low so the boys wouldn’t hear, and thankfully with Ruby’s wolf hearing he could whisper and she’d understand him clearly. “I need you to gather our allies. Henry made contact with someone in the Enchanted Forest. Snow and Emma are okay and they’re coming home, but Cora’s alive and trying to get here too.”

“Wait, what?” Ruby practically screeched. “The Enchanted Forest still exists? How did Henry make contact? And what the hell do you mean Cora’s alive?”

“I’ll explain later.” David said. “Have everyone come to Granny’s. We’ll meet in the sitting room.” He glanced back at the boys. “I have to get the boys to school, then I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” Ruby said. “See you soon.”

When she hung up, David looked in the mirror above the dresser. No wonder the boys weren’t all that reassured. He looked like a ghost, grim and dour. Cora was bad news and without the fairies having their magic, how the hell were they going to fight her?

There’s always the Dark One. David grimaced at the thought. Going to Rumplestiltskin for anything made his stomach knot. But, as the Dark One, he was more powerful than Cora, possibly more powerful than Cora and Regina combined. They would need him on their side. 

He didn’t like it and he really, really didn’t want to do it, but he was going to have to talk to Rumplestiltskin.

After he took the boys to school, he’d stop by the pawnshop on the way to Granny’s, just to see exactly what the dealmaker would say.

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

Belle left the house early that morning without seeing Rumple, not quite ready to face him. Most of the early morning hours were spent with her walking practically all over Storybrooke to prepare herself to confront him. It was magic or her, and if it was magic, then she’d walk away. 

She just wasn’t ready for Rumple’s reaction. He wouldn’t be pleased about her wanting him to choose. In fact, he was likely to be cold and furious all at once. Belle swallowed; she shouldn’t fear him so much. Dark One he might be, but he’d never hurt her. He loved her. Their love was True Love; it had to be and she was going to do what was best for both of them.

If she left him, he’d change for her. She knew in her heart that he would become a better man. She just needed to give him the right incentive. Winning her back would do just that. 

Her destination was now in sight. Just down the block and across the street, the pawnshop looked somewhat harmless in picturesque Main Street. Steeling herself with a deep breath, Belle walked forward with a confidence she wasn’t quite sure she felt. 

The closer she came to the door, the less certain she was of her decision. 

No, you can’t doubt yourself. Belle chided as she crossed the street. This is what’s best for both of you. 

When she reached the door, she saw Rumple through the glass. With another deep breath, Belle opened the door, meeting Rumple’s eyes.

Rumple smiled. “Belle, you were gone this morning.” He worried about where she’d gone off to, because she wasn’t that familiar with Storybrooke yet. After checking all of the shops on Main Street, he came to the pawnshop and used magic to locate her. His map of Storybrooke showed a dot representing Belle walking all over Storybrooke. He didn’t know why exactly, perhaps she was trying to familiarize herself with the town, but he felt that wasn’t the case. As she neared his shop a few minutes ago, he turned off the locator spell and waited for her at the front counter. “You should’ve said you were off. Storybrooke is still a strange place for you. I was worried.”

Guilt ate away at her. How could she not tell him? Sure, she was hurt and angry that he broke his promise, but he shouldn’t have had to worry about her. “I’m sorry.” Her feet stopped before the front counter. “I didn’t sleep well last night and I thought a walk would clear my head.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Had she woken up in the night and seen him? He hoped not. It was like Belle to be curious, but for her sake, and his, he hoped she stayed in her room. While he welcomed her into his home, Rumple knew he should’ve set some ground rules. He missed her so much for so long, so he wanted her to feel like his home was hers. However, if he was ever going to cross the town line to find Bae, he needed magic. What he didn’t need was Belle snooping around. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“I did.” Belle braced herself. “You used magic and killed people.”

Of course, it always came back to him abusing his magic. Though it’s not like using his magic to kill people was anything new. He’d been doing that for centuries. “Belle, it was just a bad dream. I promised you that I would try and not use magic.” Rumple kept his tone reassuring, not wanting her to suspect what he’d actually been up to. “I haven’t used it, because of you. You need to believe that you can trust me.” 

His lies stung and it took a lot more strength than she felt for Belle to keep her emotions at bay. “You haven’t?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Rumple said. “Surely you know how important you are to me. I wouldn’t break my promise to you.” His reassurance was strong so that she’d believe him and stay out of his way. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his son. If he could keep Belle in the dark and get Bae, then he would have her and Bae and his life would be complete. 

Her tears came on their own, stinging at her eyes. “I saw you in the basement last night. You were using magic then.”

Rumple tensed at her accurate accusation. “I wasn’t.” He lied. “I was researching something. Research doesn’t mean I was using magic.” He couldn’t let her know he broke his promise. He needed her. 

“Stop lying to me.” Belle pleaded. How could he lie to her face like this? She knew he loved her, but his lies were coming between them. His secrets were poisoning them. “You were making a potion. That’s magic.”

“Barely.” Rumple’s tone darkened. “Belle, please, what I was doing doesn’t amount to anything.”

Belle shook her head. “It still counts and you know it.” She placed her palms on the glass, looking earnestly into his eyes. “Rumple, please. You know magic is a crutch that only hurts us. You have to stop.”

Anger blinded him for the briefest of seconds. Who did she think she was to speak to the Dark One that way? Breathing through his nose, Rumple forced down the voices of the previous Dark Ones, who called for Belle’s blood. “It only comes between us because you let it.” Rumple stepped back from her proximity to calm himself. “Magic is a part of me and you need to accept that.”

“It’s a curse, Rumple.” Belle argued. “And curses can be broken.” 

He saw the hope in her eyes and it made him sick. He couldn’t try True Love’s Kiss; it would rid him of his magic. He needed his magic. “It’s who I am. You need to accept that.”

Her chin lifted defiantly. “It isn’t you. You’re a good man. I know you are. The darkness in you is just a poison that’s festered for too long.” Belle moved, coming around the counter. 

Get her away. Older Dark Ones hissed. 

“Rumple, you can choose not to use your magic.” Belle continued. “I know that you can. You’re stronger than this curse.”

“You’re naive to think that.” Rumple snapped, turning his back to her. “I became the Dark One by choice and I remain so by choice.”

Hearing those words shattered Belle. It was the curse talking; the curse was what made him evil. Now was the time to make the choice for both of them. He would change for her if only to win her back. “Then we can’t be together.” 

This again. Rumple shook his head. “Of course we can.”

“No.” Belle said. “It’s me or magic, Rumple. If you choose your magic and being the Dark One, then I’m walking away.”

A heavy, stifling silence descended upon them as they stared off. 

Rumple calculated his next move. He couldn’t have her leave him, but he also couldn’t promise to not use magic. Clearly, it hadn’t worked the first time, using magic behind her back, and she’d be more alert to his machinations a second time around. 

The silence broke thanks to the bell jingling above the door. 

Annoyance coursed through Rumple’s veins as Prince Charming walked in. 

David stopped short when he realized something was happening between Rumplestiltskin and his…friend. “Sorry, I’m interrupting, but I have news.”

“Please, do share.” Rumple snarled. “It’s not as if we weren’t done with our conversation.” 

David glared at the Dark One’s snideness, but this was more important than Rumplestiltskin’s relationship problems. “Henry’s been having nightmares since the Sleeping Curse. He seems to be in another realm and he’s made contact with a Princess Aurora.”

“I’ve heard of her.” Rumple said. “She’s one of Maleficent’s unfortunate victims.” 

“Right.” David said. “Aurora is with Snow and Emma and they plan to get a portal home. The problem is that Cora, Regina’s mother, is alive and after the same portal.” 

Rumple stiffened. “Cora is alive?” Truly, he shouldn’t be too surprised. Cora was the wiliest student he’d ever had, if not one of the wiliest magic users he’d ever met. Himself included. “Well, she always was clever. Let me guess, she wants to come here for Regina?”

“It seems so.” David confirmed. “Look, I don’t know what Regina will do if Cora shows up here, but I do know that we’ll need someone with magic to help us fight them.” David stepped forward, his jaw set. “Even if Regina doesn’t aid her mother, it’s not likely that she’ll stop her. You have the power to do that.” Preparing himself for a deal, David hoped that he wouldn’t have to give up too much. And whatever he did give, he hoped his family would forgive him. “We’ll need your help if Cora comes to Storybrooke. Will you help us?”

While Belle didn’t know who Cora was and she didn’t like the idea of Rumple using magic, it was clear that the acting Sheriff was afraid. Even Rumple seemed uncomfortable at the idea of this Cora person coming here. Was she truly so terrible? If so, then, Rumple needed to help them. The fact that it involved magic made Belle’s stomach twist, but perhaps it would show Rumple that he could be good. If he worked with heroes, then he could very well have a chance at becoming one. Please, Rumple. You can be good. I know you can. Help them. 

Rumple stared David down. Anyone who stood against Cora was a fool; he wouldn’t help her if she came to him, but he wasn’t going to get in her way either. “No.” Rumple stated with finality. “Cora’s trouble, and I’m not going to stick my neck out for you heroes. If she comes here, I won’t aid her or you. Whatever happens is your problem.”

Clenching his fist, anger filled David, though since it was the Dark One he was dealing with, he should’ve expected such an answer. “We need someone with magic on our side. The fairies don’t have dust and I doubt Regina’s going to warm up to us. You’re the only other person who can help.”

“No, I’m not.” Rumple said. “Miss Swan has magic.”

“What?” David’s brows furrowed. “Since when?” Emma had magic, really? But how? She’d never shown signs of it, and he and Snow didn’t have it to pass on.

“She was born with it.” Rumple stated as though it was obvious. David’s ignorance irritated him. “True Love is the most powerful magic of all. A child born from True Love is a representation of that. Her magic is powerful, likely more powerful than Cora and Regina combined. Though, she doesn’t have the training, so there’s no guarantee she’ll be effective.”

David supposed that made sense. Perhaps that’s why Rumple fated Emma to be the Savior. “Then you could teach Emma, couldn’t you?”

“Get your pests, the fairies, to do it.” Rumple said. “I’d rather not waste my time. Now, if you’ll be so kind, get out.”

So much for that. David glared at Rumple a final time before storming out of the shop.

Rumple turned to Belle with the intention of finishing their conversation, stopping short of speaking when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. “Belle, I…”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Belle said. “Don’t expect me to come home. Don’t expect anything of me.” Be strong, Belle. You have to do this. “We’re done.” She turned on her heels, stalking off, practically running out the door as she did so. 

Rumple gripped the edge of the counter tightly. Belle couldn’t break it off; he couldn’t let her. No, no, he’d get her back. She’d cool off and realize her mistake and everything would be perfect once he got back into her good graces. 

He just needed to be patient. 

As for Cora, well, he was serious. He wouldn’t interfere as long as she left him alone. The Savior would do well to stop Cora from coming though. Cora being here was a complication no one needed. 

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

Jefferson groaned into his hands as the headache that plagued him since he woke up at The Rabbit Hole persistently stuck with him despite the ungodly amount of Tylenol he consumed. His second cup of coffee was no help either.

Hopefully the bacon, sausages, and eggs he ordered would be greasy enough to help and not cause his stomach to empty itself out into the nearest toilet. 

“Here you go.” Ruby placed the plate in front of him, devoid of her usually upbeat charm. 

Jefferson looked up at her. “What’s got you in a mood?” He grumbled reaching for a fork. 

“Nothing.” Ruby growled, though she kept looking nervously at the door, like she was expecting the world to fall apart. 

“Fine, jeez, don’t bite my head off.” Jefferson stabbed at his fried eggs. He was never drinking that much again. That was a guarantee. 

Ruby glared at the former portal jumper. “When I bite your head off, you’ll know it.” She whirled around, walking away to attend to other customers.

“It’s not like I haven’t lost my head before.” Jefferson mumbled. As he aggressively cut his eggs with his fork, his thoughts turned over to exactly why he was hungover. 

Grace. He still hadn’t gathered the courage to see her. Or, well, meet her. He watched her from afar sometimes, but it was too painful knowing that she remembered him now. He was too afraid to see a look of hatred on her face. Abandonment changes a person and he definitely abandoned Grace, though it wasn’t intentional. 

No, it was fucking Regina’s fault.

Then again, Jefferson was the one who agreed to work for her again. The guilt was never going to leave him; he shouldn’t have left her. Grace was better off without him, in a home with two parents, who would never leave her. She was happier without him; it was for the best. 

Poking at his food, Jefferson forced a sausage link down his tight throat and into his queasy stomach. Though he knew that Grace was better off, it didn’t stop the pain of losing her. After Priscilla died, Grace became his whole world and he vowed to always protect her and never leave. Yet, he broke his vows and failed so completely as her father. 

His wallowing kept him from noticing the stool next to him being occupied at first. 

“Portal jumper.” Dr. Victor Whale greeted curtly. 

Jefferson turned to face Whale, glaring at the man. “Mad scientist. What the hell do you want?” He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with old colleagues. Or, well, scheme buddies? He wasn’t sure what to call Whale. They only worked that one job together for Rumplestiltskin, which only made Regina a monster. He winced; he didn’t like remembering his hand in helping create the Evil Queen. His already ill stomach twisted even more. 

“Your hat, if you still have it.” Dr. Whale said. “I want to return to my realm.” While he believed that his realm was destroyed during the curse, he’d overheard a couple of dwarves at the pharmacy talking about Emma Swan and Snow White being alive and in the Enchanted Forest. If the Enchanted Forest still existed, then his realm likely did too. He needed to get back and check on his brother. Who knows what happened to Gerhardt in the years since Whale was stuck in this accursed place. 

“I don’t have it.” Jefferson said evenly before taking a sip of coffee. He wasn’t going to tell him that David had it, even knowing that the hat wouldn’t work without magic anyway. 

“Where is it?” Whale asked. 

“I don’t know.” Jefferson lied. He picked up a slice of bacon, chewing it carefully as he stared Whale down. “Why do you want to know?” What was Whale up to? Jefferson only met him the one time, but from what he gleaned from the man, his experiments were important to him. He wondered what exactly Whale did with that enchanted heart. 

“That’s none of your business.” Whale glowered. He looked away from Jefferson, thinking about what to do next. There was magic in this realm now, so that meant the Dark One and Regina had magic. He didn’t want to make any deals with Rumplestiltskin and he doubted he had any bargaining chip that demon wanted anyway. That left Regina and after leading an angry mob to kill her, he doubted that she’d be receptive of him.

No, he needed something to use against Regina. Hadn’t he heard a rumor that she brought magical items over to this realm? Turning back to Jefferson, he asked. “Did Regina bring magical items here?”

Jefferson paused in forcing down his breakfast. For a few seconds, he considered telling Whale to fuck off, but then he remembered Regina was the one to leave him in Wonderland, permanently separating him from Grace, only to bring him over with her curse solely to torment him for twenty-eight years by trapping him in a huge house within viewing distance of Grace. “Yeah, she did.” So he was spiteful and maybe a tad vengeful. “She has a vault under her father’s grave in the Mills Mausoleum. That’s where she keeps everything.”

Whale nodded and scurried off.

Honestly, Jefferson didn’t care what Whale was up to as the guy wanted to get home and whatever he did would probably ruin Regina’s day, and that thought gave Jefferson some amount of satisfaction. 

Ruby reappeared sometime later to take his empty plate, but she disappeared as soon as David walked through the door. 

Jefferson briefly wondered what that was about before returning to his coffee, wallowing once more. 

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

The trek through the forest was awkward to be sure. There was still suspicion and mistrust amongst a few of them as well as the odd tension between him and Emma and Emma and her mother. Snow seemed to glance at Emma with worry and guilt every few minutes, Mulan led them occasionally glaring at him or up at poor Anton every now and then, and Anton, being a giant, made way too much noise. Truly, it was a miracle ogres hadn’t come upon them yet. 

Emma had fallen behind some time ago, likely to avoid her mother’s glances and definitely in an attempt to avoid him. 

Hook wanted to talk to her about the kiss, of course, and about how she knew how Aurora made contact with Henry. There was something she wasn’t saying every time they had a conversation. He could see it in her eyes that she was hiding something, holding back information. Come to think of it, despite claiming to not know of her magic, she used it with more ease than any other amateur he’d seen. 

Glancing back, he realized she was further behind the group than was safe. A pang of fear shot through him at the thought of losing track of her or her being vulnerable to ogres should they come upon them. He slowed, slipping back, stopping to wait for Emma to catch up. 

Her eyes were fixed on the ground, lost in thought, so she hadn’t noticed he stopped until she was almost upon him. Her steps faltered, hesitation clear in her expression. “Hook.” Emma’s voice was soft, yet there was a stern undercurrent, almost a warning. She started walking again, with Hook stepping in time with her. Please don’t mention the kiss. She silently begged. Not now. Everything’s too confusing. 

He didn’t speak at first. Hell, he wasn’t sure how to start without saying something that would cause her to immediately shut him out. Perhaps…if he caught her off guard. She would expect him to try to bring up the kiss, but not his other suspicions. His gaze flickered to her form as they walked, though it was clear that Emma wasn’t speeding up to catch up to the others, meaning that she either gave up on avoiding him or she didn’t want to risk him following her to confront her and having the others overhear their conversation. Here goes nothing. “You knew about the dream realm before Aurora told you, didn’t you?”

Shock jolted her so badly, her feet stumbled, causing Hook to reach out to catch her. As his hands rested on her hips to steady her, Emma shot up to look at him, her eyes wide. How the fuck did he know that? “What?” 

Hook drew closer, keeping his voice low. “You knew what Aurora was going to say. Then when it was suggested Cora might return to the Safe Haven, you were relieved. Why?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Emma swallowed as Hook’s intense scrutiny pinned her in place. She could deny it, but her reaction to his accusations wouldn’t help her denials. In fact, it would’ve only cemented the truth to him. Pulling away from him, Emma started walking again, a little bit more speed in her step as her stumble had put them further behind the group than was safe. 

Hook hurried alongside her. “Swan, wait.” Her panicked look was one that told him that he was on the precipice of discovering what she was hiding. “Look, I meant what I said. I trust you, but if there’s something else going on, shouldn’t you tell the rest of us?” He looked ahead, hoping that no one would overhear so that Emma might be receptive to speaking with him. They didn’t need any interruptions. Not if he could get answers. 

Emma didn’t know how to respond to that. This wasn’t the time or place to go into the whole story of time travel. She wasn’t even sure if she should tell anyone, if it was even safe to tell anyone, about her inadvertent time traveling. “I…Hook, I can’t…” Emma started, but she couldn’t figure out what needed to be said. She stopped again to fully face him. 

He didn’t step closer this time, giving her some space to sort through her words. 

Emma’s mind raced as she tried to come up with excuses, denials, confirmations. She was completely torn as to what to do. The entire story was so bizarre that she would’ve thought she was crazy if she wasn’t living it right now. And she didn’t want to keep lying to him. Lies didn’t make for a friendship let alone a relationship. But things were too complicated. They needed to get Cora, open the portal, and get to Storybrooke. Then when everything settled down, she could figure out what to do. But how could she alleviate his suspicions for the moment?  

She looked away from him for a second to clear her head, only to realize the group was well ahead of them. She didn’t need the others wondering why she and Hook were hanging so far back. “Look, I can’t explain right now.” She might as well be honest for now. It would at least give her time to figure out what to do next. “This isn’t the time or place, okay? Let’s focus on getting back to Safe Haven and getting to Storybrooke.”

While he wasn’t keen on her not really answering his questions, she at least confirmed that something was going on. “All right, Swan.” Hook agreed. 

“Let’s catch up.” Emma said, hurrying along. “And one more thing, don’t tell the others, please? I’d rather keep this between us.”

He wasn’t sure what it was she was hiding, but if she didn’t think she could tell the others, and if he wanted to earn her trust, then he wouldn’t say anything. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

A small, slight smile from her soothed him just a bit. “I know.”

It wasn’t long before they caught up to the others without attracting attention.

Emma really hoped no one noticed just how far back she and Hook had been, especially her mother. Despite their talk, Emma knew her mother didn’t trust Hook and she’d be even more concerned over Emma after the whole revelation of her past and complete lack of parental figures in her life. 

After a time, Mulan finally stopped them. “We can’t go on like this.” She stalked over to Emma. “He’s too loud.” Her arm motioned up at Anton. “He’s going to attract too much attention.”

“We can’t leave him behind.” Aurora protested. 

“Taking him with us is only going to get us killed.” Mulan argued. 

“Well, he is bigger than the ogres.” Marian said. “He could just stomp on them.” 

“I’d rather not.” Anton winced. He wasn’t much for taking life, even if ogres were mindless killers. “I’d walk quieter if I could, but my size isn’t exactly helpful.”

Marian looked up at him. “That’s it, it’s your size that’s the problem.” She turned towards Emma. “Your magic, could it shrink him?” There was a lot that magic could do after all, certainly it could be used to help Anton.

The suggestion surprised Emma. Cora shrunk Anton somehow before bringing him to Storybrooke the first time around, but Emma had no idea how she did it. “I don’t know…I just learned about my magic.” 

“You can do it.” Marian encouraged. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Snow cut in, her brows tight. “Magic always comes with a price. It’s too risky.” Truthfully, Emma having magic worried Snow. She saw how magic corrupted others. Her daughter couldn’t fall down that path too. 

“But Emma did well at the castle.” Aurora reminded. “And there haven’t been consequences yet.” 

Her success at the castle was because she basically was pulling a few tricks Regina already taught her. Though from Regina’s own research, she hadn’t found the magic of True Love to follow the same rules as regular or dark magic. “Yeah, barely.” Emma shook her head. “I have no idea how to shrink him.”

“It won’t hurt to try.” Mulan grumbled, crossing her arms. “Better than being ogre food.”

How the hell could she shrink him? She didn’t know the right spell, or even if it was a spell. For all she knew, Cora might have given Anton a potion to shrunk him. In fact, she hoped that when they trapped Cora at Safe Haven, they could convince her to shrink Anton. That way he could live a normal life among humans whether here or in Storybrooke. 

She glanced at her mother, who still looked leery of the idea. Snow never was receptive of Emma’s magic and with everything that happened with Elsa, Emma saw just how much her mother was uncomfortable around it. Likely due to everything with Regina, but they never talked about it.  

His presence appeared behind her. “You can do it, love.” His voice was low, his tone supportive. 

Emma looked over her shoulder at him. 

Hook’s eyes were filled with faith in her. He gave a slight nod of encouragement. 

Emma sighed and turned towards Anton. “Okay, I’ll try, but I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“That’s okay.” Anton shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?” Still, if he was honest, he was terrified. He knew Emma wouldn’t intentionally hurt him, but she admitted to her lack of knowledge and skills in magic. As Emma lifted her hands and closed her eyes, Anton shut his own eyes, not wanting to watch in case something went wrong. 

Emma tensed up, uncertain about her success rate. What if she failed? What if she hurt Anton? What if she hurt the others? Leaning on her love for her family, Emma called forth her powers. She felt magic thrum in her veins, but it hesitated to unleash itself. 

His quiet, reassuring rumble reached her ears alone. “I believe in you, Emma.” 

That did it. She could, no, would, do this. Her body relaxed, her breathing became even. Emma could see Anton in her mind’s eye and willed her magic to do her bidding. Make him smaller. Make him human sized. She repeated over and over again in her head. Her magic responded and Emma released it.

Anton suddenly felt enveloped in warmth and then a sensation of falling, seeing bright light from behind his eyelids. When the light dissipated, he slowly opened his eyes, finding his previously tiny companions staring up at him. While he still towered over Princess Aurora, the shortest of the group, he was just over half a foot taller than the other women, and barely had an inch on Hook. 

With the exception of Hook and Emma, who still had her eyes closed, they were looking at him in wonder. 

“You did it, Emma!” Marian exclaimed, causing Emma to open her eyes.

Emma’s jaw dropped when she saw that Anton wasn’t all that much taller now. Instead of a towering giant, now he towered at a human-sized height. All of his limbs looked intact and there didn’t even seem to be a tear in his clothing or a hair out of place. “I did it.” She breathed out in utter disbelief. 

While Mulan looked relieved that he wouldn’t be making anymore noise, Aurora and Marian walked closer to Anton, prodding at him with compliments on how good a human he’d make. 

Emma glanced at her mother and her heart sunk. Snow didn’t look proud or awed. Instead, her brow furrowed and her face was tight, more than likely worried about what Emma’s use of magic would mean. 

Hook noticed Emma’s shoulders fell when she realized Snow White didn’t hold the pride that a mother should whenever her child accomplished something. That didn’t settle well with him, but he didn’t feel like analyzing why at the moment. Without thinking, he came to her side, hand drawing up to the back of Emma’s neck, a gesture meant to soothe. 

Her bright green eyes latched onto him.

“See, Swan,” He smirked. “You can’t fail. You’ll give Cora a run for her money if you keep this up.”

The blinding smile that appeared on her face sent his heart stuttering. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He grinned more genuinely than he had in a long, long time. “You’re amazing, Swan.” For a heartbeat, he knew they were going to kiss if he didn’t step back. He saw a longing fire in her eyes, which he felt matched his own desire. But this wasn’t the time or place, and she’d told him before, their kiss was a one-time thing. He wouldn’t allow her to do something she’d regret. Reluctantly, his hand dropped from her and he took a step back, noting the disappointment in her eyes. “Well done.”

Though she was disappointed, and relieved, that he hadn’t kiss her, Emma couldn’t stop smiling at his words. “Thanks, Killian.” 

Her soft proclamation of his name surprised him to his core. She hadn’t used his name all that much, preferring the Hook moniker as the others did. Only thrice before had he heard it from her lips, all on that blasted beanstalk, and each time, he felt his walls crumbling. It was then, as he watched her slowly turn away, giving him a lingering look of want, that he realized something. She didn’t use Hook because of him or the others; she was using it to keep a barrier between them. Hook was safer than Killian. Hook was who she needed him to be; Killian was who neither of them could handle at the moment. Shaking himself, his attention returned to the now human sized giant, shoving away his revelation. 

“All right, we need to keep moving.” Mulan declared. “We’re losing sunlight, and I’d like to make it back to Safe Haven before dark.”

As they began their trek, Snow fell into step with Emma. Quietly, she asked, “Emma, what did Hook say to you?” 

The question surprised her. “What do you mean?” 

“Before you shrunk Anton, when you were concentrating,” Snow began. “It looked like your magic wasn’t going to work, then he stepped closer to you and whispered something.” Snow’s expression was serious and concerned and oh so very motherly. “What did he say?”

I believe in you, Emma. 

“Nothing important.” Emma lied, avoiding her mother’s eyes. 

Instead, she looked ahead of them, where her pirate walked alongside Anton. 

She had to tell him the truth. As soon as they were alone and they had time, Emma would tell Killian everything. Her heart needed him to know, even if he came to hate her for it. 

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 27

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

We the Common (For Valerie Bolden) by Thao & the Get Down Stay Down

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

There is little I recall from the beginning.

It is a facet of biology that children’s brain’s are undeveloped.

Mine would come to fruition earlier than most.

Before that, however, time is lost.

I often wondered about it.

I’ve pieced together what I could.

From what I gathered, it’s presumably for the best.

That doesn’t mean I’ve fully accepted the unknown.

Regardless. 

I was born a regular softshell turtle.

Whether I was wild or something else, I remain unsure.

What I do know is I came into possession of a yokai known as Baron Draxum; the warrior alchemist I have mentioned before. To expand, the paranoid fool believed humanity would destroy the yokai. Thus, he dedicated his life to becoming a mockery in this pursuit. After presumably a series of failures within the Hidden City, he, as the obsessed do, came up with the harebrained scheme to weaponize and mutate earth’s creatures. Thus, using the DNA of a washed up martial artist, he created four turtle mutants.

What follows are the lost years.

The ones I spoke of. 

An unknown amount of time, until fragments came.

My first memory was looking through the bars of a cage while two foul-mouthed yokai loomed over me.

Olfaction is the only sense processed by the amygdala and hippocampus.

I’m forever plagued by how their teeth were rotted out.

Next, there was rope around my neck.

They yelled.

They only ever yelled.

When they weren’t laughing.

It’s strange how one can learn the words afterwards and still not be able to parse out what your told originally.

They forced me into the water. We’re by a lake and I didn’t drown. I think they wanted me to swim. They knew I could before I realized the same.

I swam.

The rope yanked me back.

I hated it.

I hated them.

I couldn’t put a word to the feeling.

I didn’t know it or any other.

I spent hours chewing at the rope.

I never managed more than some wear before there was a fresh one.

There was always another.

I remember how rough it was and how it rubbed my skin in an agonizing way.

Every time I pulled-

And I never stopped doing so.

-it dug deeper and deeper.

The cage was cold, wet metal and I was aware every time they hurled me into it after they made me swim. I sat outside in the elements while they dawdled away their evenings in a hovelled shack.

I would find later that children feared the dark.

I never did.

It was a calm reprieve.

As was the water, even if I was forced into it. 

Most often, I wanted to be in the water.

There, I didn’t feel the leash or the gnawing pain in my throat.

They wanted something from me and it took far too long for me to figure out what.

It was enough time that I began to pick up words and their meanings.

They didn’t want me to swim; they wanted me to dive. There were scraps there, submerged from ancient times.

I didn’t find out until I was an adult that these were bits of Krang technology. Halitosis likewise rotted their brains as they thought a child could unearth the whole of it. I could tell the first time I successfully made it that far down that it was an impossible task. That’s how long it took; enough for me to develop my first sense of critical thinking. 

I tried regardless.

I failed predictably. 

They beat me every time I came up empty handed.

They referred to me as a dog which I accepted. It was an existence I pondered as it was one of servitude and simplemindedness. They would say things like ‘if I was a better one then I wouldn’t fight back.’ I wondered what other dogs were like.

Why wouldn’t they? 

Why had I failed?

Why was I different?

Why were they?

Even when my lungs screamed, I stayed submerged as long as I possibly could. I clawed at the wreckage until eventually bits came off. The first time I finally returned from the murky depths with a prize, the pair jumped for actual joy. For the first time, I felt something other than the ever present loathing. It lasted a few seconds before they turned and kicked me back into the water. 

They wanted more. 

The suddenness nearly drowned me.

It was there I recall my first true sentence, as I came up hacking up pond scum. 

“You think that was enough? Keep going ya mangy mutt!”

From sun up until sun down, I dove.

My lung capacity grew and I learned to ignore the burn.

I was given more time away. 

I took advantage of it. 

When your world is so small, you are forced to take in details slowly. 

Even with a child’s greed, I had no choice, but to make what I had last. The lake was cloudy, but there was minute visibility. I found as long as I didn’t disturb the silt then I would have moments where I could survey. The images have since lost their clarity, but I remember the way light would bounce off the metal and how it fascinated me. 

It nearly paralleled my interest in processes of deconstruction.

I realized there was a methodology to what I was retrieving. It wasn’t random; it was something. I was mesmerized. I didn’t know what it did, but I could imagine. As I dismantled it, I began to log every detail. I believed that one day I could get into the shack and take back the parts. At night I ran through the manifest. I dismantled and rebuilt what I had interacted with. I fell in love with creation and craftsmanship.

When I was not working or left to sleep, and this amounted to little in the scheme of things, I ate. Raised on a diet of rotten slop, I despised how wasteful the two yokai were. They never finished their food and what they didn’t eat, they used as bait. While I dove, they fished. I watched from underwater. I saw how the small swimming creatures, who I’d never bothered to get close to, nervously darted around the hook. Not all took and I note how plumper ones escape. It spoke to something I tried to fathom. Weight was not something I had the privilege to put on. It was not until one night when One threw a picked clean skeleton at me that I realized they could be eaten.

Something alive could be devoured. 

The process took longer to crack than disassembling the machine parts. This was because the other act was fueled by desperation. It wasn’t that I sated; gruel and genetics merely sustained me. Instead, my goal was to capture a portion of what they had. If I couldn’t perform as a dog, which I continued to fail at, then I wanted to prove that I was not. With little time between dives, I hurried as their expectations were for me to resurface in a timely manner. The first time I caught a fish, I was stunned by the life in my hands. It wriggled with a force I had not predicted and its scales shimmered in its struggle.

Even instinctually, a creature will fight with all it has to stay alive. 

It got away. 

I felt kinship. 

I was not the only one to struggle in what was otherwise a perilous situation. 

It gave me an idea.

The second, I sunk my teeth into.

Its life drained under my tongue.

In a fervor, I devoured it.

Its bones stuck to my gums, but I swallowed it whole.

The torn flesh now internal; I didn’t care.

With lake water tingeing every bite, that taken life gave me a plan.

Existence can be traded if the right one is executed. 

I only needed proper time. 

It required time.

I had time.

How lucky then, that I had become so good at rationing such a thing out.

The last of this era was categorized in upgrades. The yokai’s shack was repaired. My baby teeth fell out. The yokai got a new boat. My adult teeth came in. Not realizing the difference and never to be told, I continued to chew the rope as a soothing practice. The revelation that my new molars had higher function only came as I snapped the woven structure.

It was unfortunate that it coincided with early morning.

I had only a handful of minutes untethered until I was found, behind bars, supposedly free.

What followed was a norm: they screamed and kicked the cage.

They left, which wasn’t unheard of, but a point of mark.

When they returned, they had what they referred to as a gift.

I had never received one and didn’t know what to make of it. They pushed a large box in front of my cage, expectantly. Having never experienced this, I had no knowledge regarding how to proceed. They had nothing to yank and this infuriated them. One ripped the box open while the other got more rope and a pole. I was captured within my imprisonment and dragged out. There they presented me with the rope’s alternative.

I never thought I would miss those rough fibers.

I only glimpsed a shape before it was locked into place. 

Though I couldn’t see it, I could smell the shock collar.

It had a new scent and as the two yokai stepped away, I was troubled.

I had never been without the rope, especially not outside my cage.

I thought of running, but that wasn’t the plan.

Instead, I examined the object with my fingers and the two yokai snickered.

I had no time nor foresight to prepare when I heard the click of a button on a remote.

Next thing I knew, I was on the ground and their cackling soared above the burning buzz that filled my being. The current was continuous and felt like streams of water animating my skeleton. When it stopped, I layed and watched as my finger twitched in front of my face.

This would become their new whim.

And investment.

At this point I’d unearthed much of the debris at the base of the lake and they knew it. My hauls were lighter and the scrap was less valuable. Want drove them and I entered the shack for the first time. It was a gaudy mismatch that my eye lingered on, causing the button to be pushed. I kept my gaze down after that and learned to steal what was around me in slivers. It was yet another exercise in patience. I wasn’t here to observe, I was here because this is where they stored their plans. On a messy table lay crudely drawn schematics and a map’s layout. They droned on about boat tours and theatrics. The concept made sense, but I did not see the point.

Why participate in an act?

Others did not share my sentiment. 

Construction took less than a week and as if waiting, Yokai came.

Families.

I lurked in the water, followed the boats, and enacted shoddy mechanisms to make things happen.

I’d picked apart far more advanced technology under minute time constraints.

The property expanded to accommodate a gift shop and an information booth.

The former gave me context. 

Shock collars were reserved for whatever dogs were supposed to be.  

The two yokai talked of erecting an entire theme park. 

They’d have riches beyond their wildest dreams.

They were rapidly becoming sloppy.

They began to forget I wasn’t compliant. They didn’t pay enough attention to realize the shocks were scorching skin with fried nerve endings. It hit my musculature similarly, but I was adapting. Little by little I learned to move against the spasms; work within them.

Time. 

The attendants were similar.

They didn’t watch their children. They didn’t care about their surroundings. They’d only wanted. They had so much they left it behind. I was given a chance to try foods I couldn’t comprehend from wrappers with leftover saliva on them. I picked up trinkets and trash both because I was directed to and because there was a wealth being discarded. They had no idea. I was often watched and pointed out with jeers.

They had no idea. 

I found desires fickle.

I wanted more, which made me like them.

I did not want to be like them.

I was not like them. 

I wanted to be something else.

I was something else. 

Something new.

That morning felt hot. It was the day of rest in the rudimentary count I had learned as I would yet to learn about calendars. The two yokai were in their shack and would be for the next hour.

I began.

With a bent wire that had fallen from some yokai’s fur, I picked the lock on my cage. I’d had years to study the mechanism and, in pilfered glimpses, I’d garnered the shape of the key. Mental mapping allowed me to recreate it and, within minutes, I was free. I then scoured where the ground had been tilled and marked. This was where the park would be. I doubted it would be now. 

I acknowledged my arrogance.

There was always a chance things could go wrong. 

I similarly doubted that. 

In the heaps of dirt I had buried little pieces of trash. It was a place left unchecked. If ever they did happen upon something, they choked it up to the patrons. I could garner a loss. I’d never accounted for materials in the first place. With my arms full, I laid out the trail. It led from the front door of the shack to the dock. It was a selfish part of me that wanted it to happen where they’d brutalized me the most.

There was also the chance it was warped nostalgia.

In what I considered my penultimate dive, I entered the water. Adept, I shot straight towards the first attraction which was a tether that lifted some painted board. It took time without the stability of land, but I removed the cord. It was clear to the untrained eye. I swam back to the dock and rigged my own mechanism. One leagues beyond anything the two simpletons could prepare. Then I returned to my cage and put myself in another of my lasts: a holding pattern.

Melancholy plagued me until the shack door was kicked open. One of the yokai stepped out onto the planks of the porch and scratched his belly. He came down with smacking lips that made my skin crawl. I watched on as he fought wakefulness and caught sight of the line of detritus.

“Hey Floyd…” One gruffed, stepping off the porch to lord over it.

“What!?” Two’s voice emanated from the bowels of the shack.

In a suspicious snap, One’s eyes were on me.

I stared back openly.

He sneered with a peek of green and yellow teeth. “Some kid pullin’ a prank.”

“So? Make the dog clean it up!”

“It leads to the docks. They mighta tamp-ered with sum’thin.”

“Damnit, Pervis!” There was a clatter of cans before Two emerged. He was mad and glowered at his companion before he saw how the line of trash perfectly led away. “Well ain’t that sum’thin.”

“We gotta go check it.”

“Just don’t step in flaming shit again. Ya think be-fore ya act!”

“One time!”

The pair started following the trail with a wide breadth and continued to bicker.

They didn’t hear the faint creak of the rusty cage door. They didn’t sense me follow. They approached the dock openly, rapidly losing caution as they looked for the damage they’d equated to a child.

The wrong child.

The pair stepped in the same file I’d seen them execute a thousand times. One led first and headed right. Two followed in a hunch going left. Neither saw the clear wire even as I saw the sun shining off of it. It triggered and, for a moment, the two searched for the source of the snapping sound. Then, in a wind that sounded like their fishing rods, a stone dropped and the line pulled tight. Wire bounced free and caught on the first thing in its way: their bodies.

In an instant they were laid out under a net of sorts and started spitting up a storm. They wriggled uselessly and I finally approached to watch them with little interest. I’d never seen them from above.

They looked small.

Two had landed in a way that pressed his face to the side on the dock where he could see me. “Damnit, Pervis! It’s the fucking dog!!”

 One was not so lucky as he stared into the reeds. “Where?!”

“Over… You dumb’fuck!” Two stopped moving and split a grin. “Thing thinks it’s cute. Getting a lil payback?”

Grunts came as One wriggled to see.

I stepped up to Two and tilted my head.

I wondered what position he thought he was in.

His awareness had been lost for quite some time.

“I have been think-ing we should finally upgrade. Get a real pet. We have enough funds, wouldn’t cha say Pervis?”

One caught wind of the self-assured tone and was wrongfully pacified. “Flush like a toilet, Floyd!”

“Ya see, dog. We ain’t dumb. We seen you watching with your creepy fucking stare. It was bound ta happen one day, so I’ll give ya kudos for pulling one over.”

I took a step back.

“Heh, you get it.” With a flap of his hand, Two slapped his thigh where his arm was pinned.

The shocks hit me and I dropped to my knees.

Two bursted out laughing. 

“I know that sound!” One chirped before joining into the ear grating cacophony.

I gave them their moment and was slow to stand.

“What the…?” Two still held onto the tail end of tittering as he slapped his thigh again. 

I could feel the voltage rise.

They’d done this before.

To watch me ‘dance.’

My very being was vibrating and my vision of him was garbled.

“How in the-!?” The slapping on his leg was palpable and One started crying out in confusion.

I walked forward.

There was effort, but it wasn’t unmanageable.

I reached Two with my toes right near his mouth.

He gaped at them and then up at me.

I mimicked the grin he gave me before I dropped.

His screams rained out over the lake.

His life drained under my tongue.

One added to the clamor until it was his turn.

Spitting out the vestiges of rotten meat, I finally acquired the remote. The collar was still going in what must have been its ever longest run. The scent of seared flesh emanating from me smelt nothing like the bonfires the pair of yokai had. It took me mere milliseconds to figure out the off switch and even less for the release. The collar dropped to the ground and I kicked it into the lake. I watched until it sank and wondered if it would be unearthed as treasure one day. I then headed to the shack. There was nothing I wanted there, but I wiped off the mess their blood left on my body as an insult to their tawdry decadence. Having made my mark, I left.

My time as a street urchin was short. The city wasn’t far, but, at this point, I refused to be seen again. My neck throbbed constantly, but I channeled the pain to heighten my awareness. The hustle and bustle wasn’t something I could have prepared for as it quintupled anything I ever saw at the lake. I was plagued with attacks I didn't understand and had no time to deal with them. I hid in alleys, closed shops, and amongst bags of trash. I ate a diet of leavings. I missed fish.

I didn’t chance one place and kept moving. I didn’t believe I was seen, but if I was, I saw no repercussions. After the initial stress wore off, I began another vigil. It was a grand scale of mechanics applied in a way that seemed palatable; I found society worked the same as cogs within a machine. Everything had its place in a grand scheme of organization. I learned some buildings were for public consumption and others were privately owned. Yokai came and almost always operated in patterns. They moved themselves from place to place as they did objects. That life would be so arbitrary seemed inane, but I had nothing to compare it to.

It was in the second week that I truly registered the stench radiating from me. It took several more days until I found an open bathroom window of an empty domicile. I felt hot water for the first time. I saw my image in a mirror for the first time as well. I was not sure what to make of it. I had not seen anything like me. Clean, I left the place and continued on. I was fatigued of sleeping outside, but there was a monetary system I was still getting a hold of. Then, by chance, I saw a group of yokai around my height. I gave chase. 

They laughed and played in the same carefree way that I had seen children do at the lake. They did not, however, have looming larger yokai overhead. They did not have ropes or collars. They moved of their own volition. Then they stopped to eat. They had the necessary currency. I watched from the shadows as they challenged each other to some contest and lights came off of them. One’s eyes glowed. Another could hold energy in the palm of their hand. Yet more didn’t show outward signs, but charged with strength that wasn’t there before.

My brain worked in overdrive.

I had to commit this to memory. 

If they could do it, I could as well. 

One mentioned ‘story time’ and the group lurched in a rushed formation. 

A piece of fabric was left behind.

Looking down at myself, I recognized a difference. 

I was missing the proper suiting.

Not all, but most yokai I had found fashioned wraps around them in various ways. There appeared in a multitude of colors and shapes. The one left behind was a shade I’d never encountered. It looked to be my size and I put it on in the way that made sense. Arms through tubes and head sprouted from the smaller of the two openings, I examined the excess fabric around the neck. A brief study found it to be a hood which had a securing quality as I brought it up over my head.

Trailing the scent of the little yokai, I came upon a glorious building. Its grand exterior sat upon a series of stairs and I caught a glimpse of the last small yokai rushing through the doors as they closed. Looking down at my hoodie, I followed behind. The steps were treacherous in my mind as they offered no protection. No one seemed to look on as I traversed them with a foreign approach. The doors were heavy and it took all my weight to yank them open. Once inside, I waited for the screams to start and prepared my hasty exit. Silence came and I found it to be one of the sweetest things I’d heard to date. The lake had a life to it and this building was not devoid, but interiors greatly contrasted nature.   

I would never forget the moment I lifted my head.

What I would come to find were books, lined a multitude of shelves. The entrance sat in an octagon that rose up with floor after floor in what seemed like an infinite stack. A large eared yokai with pointy clothes sat upon a centered podium and loomed over without seeing as she poured over something at her desk. I thought her to be the operator of this establishment and would come to find I was right. The yokai children blinked by on the second level and I found myself rushing after them.

I never caught up.

Instead, I found that outside the sense of the main room, everything beyond defied what I had come to know about natural order. Staircases carried on in omnidirectional patterns with bookcases doing the same. There was an entire ecosystem here unlike anything I had ever seen. I knew right then that this was a place where one could get lost and never return.

I thought nothing better could exist in this bleak world.

I would not step foot outside even once in the coming years. Surrounded by nothing but knowledge, I found how starved I was. My existence equally shrank and expanded endlessly. Food became my only limited resource as I quickly found it was prohibited. Thankfully, redundancies define this world and there were both vending machines and those who smuggled things in about to sustain me.

Finding enough to get by physically, I made a nest where two angled bookshelves left a strange triangle of space behind them. It only took the removal of a few books from a bottom shelf for me to squeeze in and garner a space that was, for once in my life, of my own choosing. I located a thing called ‘lost and found’ and learned of the comfort clothes and covers could bring. For myself I dressed in darker tones to blend in, but my child’s eye was naturally drawn to bright colors. This was how I discovered a beginner’s section of the library and began my journey.

Teaching myself to read was something I picked up quickly. I inadvertently found the lost story times and listened in at first. They mostly aided me in pronunciation until I quickly outpaced the books read. By this point, it should be known that I had yet to speak. The library’s law forbade it and my throat was a point of contention. Those compounded reasons along with finding no reason to do so meant I found it needless. Instead, I advanced the vocabulary of the mind. Running around, I matched books with dictionaries and jumped reading level after level.

Once I consumed everything within the children’s and then young adult’s sections, I grew tired of fiction. I had little to relate with asinine struggles and yearned for greater understanding of the world. With thousands of shelves at my disposal. It was difficult to know where to start. I bided my time and learned the Dewey Decimal Classification. Hoping it would give me clarity, I had been studying a quiz sheet on such that I had made myself using a notebook that was left behind by a student when a book dropped into my nest. Afraid I had been found, I cowered only to find a hand straining to reach the tiny hole. The owner of which simply muttered a nervous phrase about that not being their problem before selecting something else and leaving.

Leaving my notes, fluorescent light creating a lined tapestry in my little space, I approached the thick book. A haunting white figure was chiseled onto the cover and I inched forward to open it. The words proved the hardest yet, but I was ensnared. Thinking it fate, when I finished the book, lids heavy with exhaustion, I emerged and approached the librarian for the first time.

I stared up at her and she down at me. I had since picked up on her supreme sense of hearing and knew she was aware of my presence. However, if she knew I lived within the library walls, she never acted otherwise. Jarring me as it was only something I had seen done in retaliation, she swooped on her large wings and landed, ground level, in front of me. Free from her confines, she observed me through the little glasses perched on her nose before she knelt further down to look me in the eye. Fear at how easily she could snatch me away erupted, but she simply smiled.

“How can I help you, little one?”

Words.

I hadn’t chanced those.

I wasn’t ready.

Instead I offered her the little punch slip that had come from the fallen book.

She adjusted her glasses at it and then me.

“You can read all you want within these walls. The card is for check-out.”

I frowned and held it up anew.

She hummed with a sort of affection before offering me a spindly hand.

I shirked away from it.

She pointed up the podium. “To complete the process, you need to fill out a form.”

My heart beat so fast that I thought it would stop.

I was thankful I’d at least die where I’d been most happy.

I somehow managed to extend my hand when hers wrapped around the whole of me. I wriggled as, in a flap, we were soon airborne and a different sensation caught hold of my stomach. In a display, she soared above her destination in a grand tour of what the library had to offer. 

Exhilaration took the place of my anxiety.

Flying was another form of freedom.

When we landed, I’d almost forgotten about my quest. Sitting atop the podium, she pulled out a slip of paper with little boxes. I studied the inputs curiously before she also produced a nearly blank sheet with exact perforations. Marveling at the little details, she made a few little notes while skipping over many of the assigned boxes. “I’ll need your name.”

I looked around.

She understood and slid me a piece of paper with a marker.

Staring at her with no way to translate my gratitude, I wrote out my name for the first time.

D-O-N-A-T-E-L-L-O

A mark of fate left on me by my first real book.

That library card would be the charting moment of my existence; my first ever piece of identification. 

Years blur after that. They were some of my happiest as I knew only peace. I read. I devoured history books. I traversed biographies of great minds. I learned of mechanics. I consumed encyclopedias that spanned entire sections. I’d unearthed the marvels of the Hidden City and the fabled land of Earth. I found out about computers. I was devastated to find that the technology had not taken off in this realm. From what I read though they contained even more knowledge than any one mind could imagine. The mental schematics I had concocted on the ceiling of my cage came in handy. I used them to learn to type on an imaginary computer. I wrote out and tested thousands of lines of codes without a harddrive.

The librarian took either a liking to or pity on me. She introduced vegetables into my diet by supposedly sharing her lunches. It was not lost on me that she had entirely separate packaged meals that she would leave out near some of my favorite study tables. I didn’t immediately take to the greens as much as the concept. It sent me bounding between biology and botany. She wasn’t the only one to leave an impression. I watched staunchly pressed yokai thumb through tomes of law. I spied on their strange appearance only for them to approach, overjoyed, to find anyone interested and instructed me on the greater machinations of the system enveloping us.

Even still, there were more than just the books. 

Papercuts taught me that pain wasn’t always inflicted by others. Mention of glasses brought me to the realization that my own sight was lacking. I found a pair in the lost and found. Their prescription was imprecise, but close enough. I marveled at the new found clarity. It imparted a sense of philosophy that had been an undercurrent in my life:

We cannot know what ails us until we see from beyond.

I believed my pursuit here was one that would never end.

This was my destiny. 

However, I was young.

I had energy.

I had an itch.

I had wants.

They exceeded knowledge. 

I yearned to create, driven by all that I had seen. I could improve. I improved my own mind. I could influence my surroundings. I existed for more. I began small. My first act was replacing a burnt out bulb. My curiosities sent me beyond the maintenance closet as I understood the functions of filaments. This bulb hadn’t ended its lifespan naturally. There had been a surge. It took me several days under the guise of quiet until I located faulty wiring within the walls. When I fixed it, the new light burned brighter than ever before.

I was hooked.

I went around fixing anything and everything that was broken or in disrepair.

Cleaning was a natural extension of this. 

There was a night janitor that I avoided, but he was never thorough enough. Psychology books taught me how surroundings influenced wellbeing. I tidied up during the day. It both improved my supposed headspace by giving me a sense of control while also allowing me to freely gather materials as I had in my earlier years. Library patrons quickly took notice of me, but I no longer held the same fear. Instead, they found me endearing. There was something to a child cleaning up and offering to take their trash. Their reactions were something I studied.

They ranged from affectionate to snide. Where some brought me candy, others made excess crumbs and scattered them on the floor. The implication was for me to lick them up, but I simply fetched a broom. There was something about how the long handle fit in my hands. I could swing it with ease. I had read bits from history books which sent me towards the library’s self-improvement section. Starting with a rudimentary book on martial arts, I was drawn to the mental aspect and, of course, the use of a bo staff. From there, I restructured my schedule. I would read, clean, and collect during the library’s open hours and train during the off ones. 

It offset a swath of my energy, but never the cravings from my hands.

With time, I had nearly every object repaired or renewed in the labyrinth. It left me with little more than repetition and gathering refuse. Combined with what I combed from lost and found, I studied manuals and built little machines. They were rudimentary ones, but they were mine. My workspace soon outgrew my nest, so I took to tables in far reaches so as not to bother patrons. I was building up to something of a remote controlled car, missing only a motherboard, when he first approached me.

“Would ya look at that.”

I scooped my device into my hand and ran to the next row when his voice chased me.

“Sorry for spooking ya kid! I just had a question!”

Nervous, the shush bats rattled up above and I pressed my shell to the comfort of my books as I waited for them to carry him away.

The rush of flapping never came and when I peeked out, he was looking to the ceiling with a curious glint to him.

As if sensing me, he turned with a lopsided grin. “I got a way with animals.”

Frowning, memories of dogs assaulted me.

I was a softshell turtle.

I was more.

“I’ll leave you be.” His voice came with a gruff softness. “I just wanted to know: it was you that fixed my cell phone the other day, wasn’t it?”

I peered a little further, knowing full well he could see me. 

I had, but I didn’t know who owned it. I’d hoped the owner wouldn’t come and claim it so I could dismantle it. There was procedure to these things. Per the rules above the lost and found, objects weren’t guaranteed past 72 hours. Usually no one returned for them, but there was a status to uphold. At least, there was an imaginary one I held with the librarian for allowing me to stay. 

“I dropped it from floor eight to corridor three. I figured it was a lost cause, but when I was heading out, I found it propped on the railing, perfectly fine minus some cracks in the screen. Was weird. Not the kind of thing that’s from around here.”

I stepped out then.

Cell phones were basically computers. 

That meant it didn’t come from the Hidden City; it came from above. 

Though I had yet to exercise my training, my body improved far faster than any of the martial arts books predicted.

I had faith I would not lose, but with the many warnings not to underestimate one's opponent, I kept my distance.

“I’ve seen you around. I do…” He looked to the side. “…business here, from time to time. A nice public place.”

I squinted. I could see him through my glasses and there was something off-putting about him. I had seen him before as well, but he never stayed longer than an hour. I rarely cared about the machinations of the others in the library beyond what I could learn from them. 

He put his hands in his pockets in what I assumed was a ploy to look less threatening. “You work here or something?”

I stared and squeezed the tech in my hand until it was nearly cutting.

“Oh, yup.” He gave a languid nod. “That’s two questions and I said only one.”

I gave a curt bob of my head.

“You’re a little stickler.” He gave a faint chuckle. “Did you fix my phone?” With a show of digging, he pulled out said device from his pocket and flipped it out.

I flicked my gaze between him and the object before giving another quick nod.

“Cool.” He looked at his phone one last time before pocketing it. “Thanks, kid.”

He turned to walk away and I will never understand what compelled me to chase after him.

He made it halfway down an aisle before he half turned to look at me over his shoulder. “Answer another question.”

I stopped so fast I rose up on the tips of my toes.

“You’re bored, ain’tcha?” He looked around the books.

I dropped my gaze to my feet.

“You like fixing stuff?”

I gave a slow nod.

“Want to fix more?”

When my gaze shot up, I saw a gold tooth in his smile.

“Excellent.”

My partnership with La Stanza was not something I would understand at first. It started with his name. I only knew bits of other languages thus far and had to look up the meaning. When asked he had simply responded that he was the guy you go to like one goes to any other room. It seemed nonsensical, but in reality what purpose was there to my own calling card?

Maybe fate touched him as well. 

It is hard to fault myself for being young, but I admit I knew something was off. Everything in the system I understood was transactional. When he asked me to meet him the next day in the cooking section, I found him waiting with a broken appliance on the table. He gave me space as I decided and then watched as I studied it. After a minor deconstruction to get a feel for the parts, I rebuilt it minus the broken one. I knew of a part similar and left it to go get what was necessary. When I returned he was sitting with a sleepy expression and continued to observe until I was done. I pushed it over to him and was all the more suspicious when he pressed it back.

“It’s a radio. Not much use in here. You can have it.”

I had questions.

I wasn’t sure I had a voice.

The damage to my throat was extensive.

My studies had pointed me towards vocal cord damage.

I hadn’t bothered to test otherwise.

I left it as a Schrödinger's cat.

“Can I be honest and this is definitely gonna sound like a put down, but kid, I swear if I have to keep looking at you, I gotta say it.”

I merely squinted at him.

“I can’t read your damn face.” He mimed a mitt over his. “You’re a blank green slate. I got a cousin that’s mute so that’s whatever, we do the jibber jabber.” His still raised hand turned and he tapped spread fingers to his chin several times. “But even if we don’t, I can look at him and see if he’s happy or sad or needs to take a shit. You though? Come on!”

I frowned and got up. 

I left him with the radio and he made a saddened sigh.

I didn’t see him for a week, but I studied what he’d left me with. I learned the gesture he had done was sign language. It found it was different as he often spoke things with his hands in a way that didn’t communicate anything other than emphasis. Taking a social cues book into the bathroom, I practiced expressions in the mirror and found what he was referring to. I weighed options of communication as I made my weekly rounds to the lost and found. A silk purple scarf was in there and I took it with me to my nest.

It was the color of the hoodie I had long outgrown and now used as a pillow.

Purple. 

Literature said it was a signifier of royalty in ancient times.

It represented power and ambition.

I liked the former and had the latter.

What a suitable shade.

I found La Stanza meandering in the mystery section a few days later.

‘What do you want with me?’ I stood with my feet apart and signed to him.

His eyes grew wide and a bright smile turned up only half his face. “Well I’ll be damned.”

‘I asked you a question.’

He chuckled softly and dropped down to a squat. “You know I figured you just had autism, but you’re a fur-real baby genius.”

I folded my arms.

“Eh.” He looked to the side and shrugged his shoulders. “Could be both, either way-” He brought his hands up to sign as he spoke. “I was right to approach ya.”

‘Well?’

“I’m looking to expand.” He leaned back until he landed on his butt and crossed his legs. “Business ain’t what it used to be and my boss treats me like shit.”

‘Business?’

“Work.” He gave a repulsed bob of his head. “I’m a salesman and a pretty face. I wasn’t gifted with technical skills like you, so I need a partner.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“We’ll start small. I bring you broke stuff and you repair it.”

I could feel the phantom ropes tug.

“What do you want in return? Money? Food? Supplies? You name it kid. You’ll be doing most of the work so…”

Goods in exchange for services.

The trade-off made it palatable. 

What did I want?

I wanted intangible things.

Space to work.

Things to work on.

Tools.

Those were tangible.

A computer. 

I didn’t quite have the same vocabulary with my hands as my mind.

I spelled out his name.

He looked surprised before checking up and down the bookcases. “You need a place to stay? I gotta be honest, kid. I don’t got much. My apartment is a one-room shit show in the back of a nail salon. You’re better off sleeping with one of these paperbacks as a pillow.”

I shook my head.

He squinted and then thought hard before something came to him. “’They come to me with what they need.’” His grin bounced in time with his head. “Make me a list and I’ll bring you the first electronics tomorrow. We meet in cooking, yeah?”

I was slow to give a nod.

“In my business we shake on deals. It’s an act ‘cause we’re all backstabbers, but we do it anyway.” He stood, dusted himself off, and held out his hand.

I reached a hand across my body and wrapped it comfortingly over my own shoulder.

A laugh started up in La Stanza, but he covered his mouth to keep from giving in. When he came down, he licked his lips. “You’ll do fine. I bet you’ll be able to tell from a mile away when I’m gonna turn on you. In fact, I’m almost looking forward to it. What you’ll become.” 

While every other word out of his mouth had an ulterior motive, there was something honest about in a way I had never encountered. It had me crossing the floor where we shook. I often return to a case study of this next period. Memories have faded to a point, but the rapid escalation I found with the mobster La Stanza was one for the ages. It started with me repairing what I quickly identified was human trash. Within weeks I had built up enough revenue for him that we moved on to upgrading existing contraband. 

I learned the humans and yokai were meant to be kept separate. 

Even if a majority shunned technology, there were still yokai who craved it. 

The pool was still small, however, and this market also exhausted quickly. Always onto the next thing, La Stanza then set on my table something I immediately pinged as tampered property. He only gave a knowing smile and I wondered how sustainable a business model was of breaking goods and then offering to fix them. It proved not to be much when, within the month, he came to the library black and blue.

It wasn’t my business. 

Mine was to fix. 

Toiling away, repair after repair. 

It cured the ache in my hands; it was all I was good for. 

Do to his own err, La Stanza asked to take a step back from physical goods. That was when I got my first computer. I had to repair it myself. There was no internet there to connect it to, but the programs downloaded were operational. All I cared about at first was finally writing all that code I had been saving to my mind’s databanks. However, I had a job to do first. I would spend my ‘working’ hours toiling away at the vague programs La Stanza asked for. I would create and then burn them into hard copies that he would then distribute. They had something to do with bugs, infections, and diverting funds, but all I cared about was whatever combinations of keys triggered one reaction to set off another. I was obsessed. I spent nearly all my waking time on the machine. I neglected all my other fields of study. 

With my hands often occupied, I had switched to communicating with my partner via a notepad document. It was near my ear that La Stanza one day crooned about diversifying interests. Without waiting for my response, he asked what I had in mind.

Right and wrong were not things I wholly understood. As concepts I had read of them, but it was hard not to see the leaking persuasion historians seeped into their work. They painted killers as martyrs. Laws at the time were broken because they were seen as unjust now even though they were accepted then. Visionaries were imprisoned for new ideas that would only translate to as momentous after they died. In reality, most of these people only suffered in their times.

It made no sense.

It didn’t matter to me what would happen when I was gone.

I had wants now.

Thus the computer work I suggested was one I viewed as altruistic. I needed a way to connect to the surface; to where computers really were. I’m not sure how he boosted the signal, but La Stanza always had a way of delivering. It meant I could finally see the code that others wrote in real time. Tampering with its faults was simply opening unlocked doors. The internet was free and intangible. If they wanted to keep me out, then they should have invested in even the base level of protection. Fully saturated in hypocrisy, I easily hacked firewalls. Exhausted, La Stanza could only tolerate watching me do this for a few hours a day. He tried to commiserate as a vested party, but he did not share my compulsion. Things could be generated with keystrokes that were beyond the requirements of materials. I built entire programs from the ground up just so I could create machines with my mouse. I tapped into the likes of which I never thought possible.

I wanted more.

At this point, I had a surplus of cash and sent the money back to the one who brought it to print out my designs.

It wasn’t enough. 

The next time La Stanza came around, I directed him to a table. He sat down across from me and I could tell he knew we were about to make a deal.

I slid the blueprints over to him and he took them with tempered curiosity.

Lifting them up to block his face, it was only when he lowered it did the lights gleam off gold.

“Lab.” My voice was dry and nasally to my ears.

I hadn’t meant to say it.

The sound had just popped out.

A manifestation of my desires.

La Stanza’s grin grew impossibly wide. “Done.”

I exited the library that day.

By my estimations, having only picked up the nuisances of time during my stay, it had been four years.

La Stanza led me to the door with his hand on my back. As we drew near, I shouldered him away and he seemed genial as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was only in the last few feet that my heart ached. I would be leaving my sanctuary. I stopped and he made the rest of the journey to the door. I watched him and he closed his eyes as if giving me privacy. In a slow turn, I drank in the library’s main hall. I drew my eyes up its octagonal shape and clipped the podium where the librarian sat.

She looked at me.

Her mouth opened and she reached out the tiniest bit.

Regret.

I simply stared and shouldered the little backpack I’d taken with me. 

She did nothing more. 

I turned.

La Stanza opened the door and I left.

We moved into a warehouse.

If my time working out of the library had been an accelerated process, I began to travel at mach speeds. Existence was now tied to rent and time was of the essence. I rarely used my new voice during this time, but it mattered little as I rarely saw La Stanza. We communicated through lists as we often just missed one another. Within a month I had a fully functioning lab with nearly every item I had ever read of and the ability to create more. I submerged myself into technology and she wrapped her arms around me in a loving embrace.

Whether it be from the computer to the work desk, I was always wading neck deep in nearly a dozen projects at any given second. I continued to code and built my own online infrastructure. Returning to physical goods, I improved upon the day to day technology I had initially been brought to fix and left them prototypes for La Stanza to pedal off. He kept good in that my bank account was always trending upwards and everything was freshly stocked, whatever was necessary.

I hit the wall of what was feasible all too quickly. Improving what was one was one thing, but I saw to it that science itself could be advanced. I needed materials and elements that were only hypothesized. It was clear they would exist, but sentient races as a whole would need to take the step for that to happen. Fashioning myself as that pioneer, I took the first stride and stored my research in a pair of goggles, futuristic versions of my antiquated lenses. 

With creation itself occupying my hands and mind, I needed an even simpler way to communicate. I had long since done a medical examination of myself and found my vocal cords intact. Too distracted to use them, I took that silk scarf and turned it into my first bandana, eyebrows and all. La Stanza, as touted, could glean everything he needed from a look alone. I had learned the same of him, in our time together. It was why I could tell he was growing irritated with my pursuits as with my attention diverted to a struggle with no exact deadline, there weren’t any tangible products to sell.

He walked in one day while I was preparing a prototype for a fusion reactor and dropped a handgun directly on my workspace.

I gave it a listless glance before going back to my work.

His hand came away as if he thought I was concerned he’d shoot me.

I wasn’t. 

I was too valuable. 

“People are catching onto us, kid.”

I arched my brow to ask why I should care.

“I spread out your tech, sold it to the highest bidders, and kept you anonymous, but I’m just one guy. I mean I got my Goyles of Fortune, but you turned yours down.”

I shoved my rolling chair towards a computer where I ran a test model.

“If you’re going to keep this ‘find a new element’ Einstein shit up-”

I shot him a dry look.

He knew for a fact that’s not what Einstein did.

“-then genius needs protection!” He yelled, slamming his hands down. “Protection means money!” 

I stopped my work and gave a sigh as I looked at him.

“When you crack this, we’ll be set for life. I get that. Until then, I’ve been spending my time around the points of interest around town. You’re known. They don’t know much, but they know a tech wiz is holed up somewhere and they want him. If the goons I know, know, then you know Big Mama-”

I picked up the gun.

La Stanza stopped and a strange scent wafted off of him. I observed him carefully before I toyed with the clip and it came out. He relaxed as I pulled out the bullets and looked them over.

“She-” I had to swallow hard. It had been weeks since I last spoke. “She purchased the new screen technology I pioneered.”

“For her Battle Nexus.” He nodded.

Replacing the bullets, I popped the clip back in.

I just wanted to work.

To be left in peace. 

“She deals in control, kid. If she gets her hands on you…”

“She already has…” I shook my head. “…most of the Hidden City. Goyles can’t be trusted. You can barely be trusted.”

La Stanza gave a single snort. 

“Say what you really want.” I had finally reigned my vocal cords in. 

Rounding the table, he approached and held his hand out.

I gave him the gun.

“Let’s advance this.” He waved it. “This is some human crap. Yokai crap ain’t much better. Neither take science seriously.”

I frowned deeply. He had paid attention to one of my few rants.

“You’re gonna change the world, kid. I’ve known it all along. Get into weaponry. That’s where money and power are.”

I thought.

I stood and I walked away. He knew my process. He hung back. I’d already made my decision, but it wasn’t out of fear or morality. I didn’t even have anything to prove. My wants were finally being met. It wasn’t like I wanted notoriety. I saw what came with it, amassing hatred and adoration.

I despised the thought.

At the same time, I’d proven to myself I was no mangy dog.

I was more.

But-

They whispered of me.

Big Mama was sending out her tendrils to find me.

Me.

I knew, but did they?

How wonderful it sounded to see their faces and learn that an actual child was what they sought.

This fabled tech wizard. 

I returned to find La Stanza dozing off, propped against a toolbox.

I hadn’t learned to manage time then.

I spent it carelessly.

“The structure. Do you want to be your own boss?”

He jarred with wakefulness. “Huh?” With a puckered face, he shook it off. “What? You think you’re my boss or something?”

I barely rose one of my brows and gave a flat expression.

Without me he was nothing.

“Cocky bastard.” He grumbled to himself before kicking my chair over to me. “How far are you thinking?”

“I can topple Big Mama’s empire.”

La Stanza straightened. “She’s held Hidden City for longer than you were a distant dream in your momma’s head.”

My gaze grew acrid. “Let it collapse or take her place. That’s what I’m offering.”

He grew pale. “Why?”

“I dislike the system.”

“I mean it did you dirty before, but look at you now-”

I took a single step forward and he stilled.

He gave a curt nod. He knew he couldn’t challenge me. “You could fix it,” he offered because he felt like he had to. 

“There is no fixing inherent conditioning. There will always be those who want more. Big Mama is arbitrary. I simply wish to be left to my work.”

“If you slip in the slightest…”

“Are you worried for you or me?” I tipped my head back.

“You’re just a kid…”

“And you’re a con man using one.”

La Stanza clicked his tongue. “Let’s at least pump some cash into an orphanage or some shit!”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

“Kid-”

“Donatello.”

“I-”

He had that damned look. 

Regret.

Remorse.

“You approached me!” I glowered up at him. 

For a moment, he was lost before an icy exterior took hold. “Make your list, I’ll get what you need.”

He left.

I got what I needed.

I made what was necessary.

I wouldn’t say I underestimated Big Mama.

I was a child.

I couldn’t fathom how far her reach went.

I made weapons.

I made chemicals.

I watched those tools fall upon the masses as collateral.

I can’t recall if I understood guilt.

If I had it at all.

I felt fractured.

Only creation kept my pieces from tumbling apart.

I grew taller.

I rarely slept.

I picked my martial arts training back up out of necessity.

I was jittery. 

I needed a means to whittle away the excess energy.

Our first warehouse was raided by the Hidden City police.

My safety protocol took out half their forces in one night.

Four of them, emboldened by loss, turned electrified prongs on me.

I hadn’t lost my ability to move with the current, but I was not of one body anymore. 

My goggles short circuited and the resulting explosion took my hearing.

It also gave me an escape.

In one of a dozen safe houses, La Stanza got me cochlear implants.

I was revolted by the silence.

It wasn’t like the library, the decorum. 

It was forced.  

I kept nothing down during the time I spent upgrading the devices.

I would need them to advance with me.

I had only one shot.

The surgery was done, live and alone.

I did my eyes at the same time.

Might as well.

If I was to be out of commission, then figured I might as well go all the way out.

I don’t recall my recovery.

I remember being on the run.

It was a good thing I’d trained.

La Stanza died.

I never saw what happened.

I found his body in a heap down a road.

His back was to me. 

I never approached.

Years later I would find he was choked trying to divert police attention.

What does a room hold?

Whatever you fill it with.

For all the running I did, I at least made Big Mama hurt.

I severed her connections with the auction house.

I released a slew of her best champions.

I never once encountered her straight on.

She’d leave me recordings, like inane voicemails.

I’d see her face, fake accent, and smash the screen.

It was only once that the audio continued to feed.

In a warbled voice before I hit it again, I heard only one thing.

“Lou Jitsu’s revenge.”

What I couldn’t contend with was the Hidden City’s forces.

They were relentless.

Endless.

Exceedingly cruel.

Dangerously stupid.

Beating them during encounters was easy.

However, these were battles won and not the war.

I wasn’t just dealing with them.

Puberty ran rampant through my body and mind. It stunted me. I was trying to topple an ancient civilization by myself. If I took the hand of anyone, for even a moment, they turned on me. The reward was too great. If you didn’t get the money legally through the city, bankrolled by Big Mama. Then you could take it from her directly, same funds.

Broken.

Bloodied.

Exhausted.

Malnourished.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

I became Hidden City’s number one most wanted criminal.

My photo, one snapped when a scuzzy paparazzi woke me with a flash bulb after I had been knocked unconscious, was plastered over every screen in the entire place.

Ones I had built. 

I was forced to leave.

I’d never considered the Hidden City home, but I felt similarly to when I’d left the library. I remember distinctly walking out onto a New York street. The calculations to the portal were botched, but it had at least sent me above. I was nearly run over by a taxi and people screamed at my existence. Muscle memory took me running and I found shelter atop a building.

Staring out at New York City, I didn’t know what to feel at first. I was mostly consumed with the wafting stench of too many humans crammed together and hot refuse that piled up on the sidewalks. For that first week, I passed out and slept an nearly the whole of it asleep in a pigeon coup. It was as if my body was trying to catch up on all it had lost. The nervous energy of the birds paired with their incongruous coos was lulling. That was, until I was awoken by its attendant and scrambled to free myself. Covered in feathers and shit, I escaped and, for the first time, saw the city bathed in sunlight.

It was a fascinatingly different sort of beast.

After washing up, I went to explore with flashbacks of my child self getting a feel for the Hidden City haunting me. This world was not so different. It was, surpassingly enough, vastly untouched. There were criminal organizations, dirty cops, drugs, and the ever growing lists of misdeeds, but they paled in comparison to what I’d had to deal with prior.

I could start small.

My work.

The single word was enough to make my hands shake.

When was the last time I was able to just work on what I liked?

At the mere mention, I felt a burst of something close to joy. Unlike the manic kind when I won a battle and lived another day, this was a selfish one I sort of enjoyed. I found an abandoned apartment and settled in. Computer access was plentiful and I found the internet had reached further leagues of the imaginable while I was away. Skimming funds from large corporations and doctoring books to keep even the most keen accountant from noticing, I built myself a new lab. I studied this world. I maintained my training, now out of discipline. I would have maintained this lifestyle were it not for an odd mosquito that flew by one night as I was taking a walk. I knew enough that its home ecosystem was clearly one from down below.

I followed it.

I saw a mutation happen first hand.

We cannot know what ails us until we see from beyond.

I scrambled.

I returned to the Hidden City in disguise and found the biggest headline regarded Baron Draxum’s lab.

With two world’s worth of populations to choose from, the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon is hard to fathom once it’s exercised on you.

It was grossly effortless to track my lineage. I berated myself for thinking it impossible. Many pieces gathered that I thought useless suddenly fit into a puzzle I had no idea I was constructing. Big Mama’s ominous ‘Lou Jitsu’ comment was frighteningly accurate.

She had already known. 

It wasn’t something I should have put past her.

For you, the gist is thus: Baron Draxum believed humanity would wipe out yokai. He thought if he mutated turtles then he could create super beings to destroy them first. He needed DNA to ensure such beings would be lethal fighters. Self-esteem apparently abysmal, he sought the Battle Nexus’ most famous champion: a one, Lou Jitsu. He was a human immigrant from Japan who occupied himself as a martial arts movie star. Sometime on Earth, he was bewitched by Big Mama and became romantically entwined with her. I am not sure nor do I care to find out when this ended, but she forced him to become the Battle Nexus’ champion. What is known is he spent time defeating all manner of yokai until he gave up violence.

What comes next is conjecture, but since I am living proof, it is clearly truth.

Baron Draxum got the necessary DNA, finished the experiment, but his lab was destroyed in the process.

I and three others came into existence and Lou Jitsu disappeared.

No one in the Hidden City had ever heard anything more about the three others.

I presumed I was the only one to survive.

You can see why I wonder about those lost memories.

Fast forward, if it was unclear, that lab explosion I just described happened in the past.

The new one I happened upon approximately fourteen years later was a curious repeat in history.

Baron Draxum had a new plan then, to bring humanity down from within. He used his mutagenic ooze and placed it within a species that could easily spread the concoction: mosquitos. 

Things of this nature are rarely not connected.

Returning to New York, I tracked the mystic energy and found… them.

Raphael.

Leonardo.

Michelangelo.

They had the-

Same-

Fucking-

-naming convention as-

…

I didn’t approach.

How could I?

In less than a 24 hour period, I discovered more about myself than I had in all my years.

Instead, I followed them.

They laughed.

I tracked them into the sewers and began surveillance.

They consider themselves brothers.

Family. 

They had hobbies.

They lived a hidden existence.

They acted happy.

They were happy.

And there was that…

Decrepit-

Obese-

Rat.

…

I conducted more research. I could not be hasty. I watched and watched, on monitors set up in their absence. When they left, I followed them out. 

Both they and the rat were oblivious.

They were acting as vigilantes with pathetic martial arts training.

They yelled.

They laughed.

They fumbled.

They didn’t kill.

They survived.

They did more. 

Were allowed more. 

Encounter after encounter, I watched them fight versions of their own kind. 

The city filled with more and more mutants because of those damned bugs released by Baron Draxum.

Ignorant.

They were so absolutely, absurdly, and appalling stupid.  

By the end of my surveillance, I barely had to conceal myself. They once walked right by and didn’t even notice I was standing there! It is unbelievable that we share genetic material! They make me so-!!

…

They were allowed to do whatever they wanted.

They had a freedom they couldn’t comprehend.

And they squandered it.

All because of him.

Lou Jitsu, nee Hamato Yoshi.

He had escaped Baron Draxum only to be mutated into a rat man. He raised three turtle children as his own. He brought them up to have the carefree lifestyle that he was not afforded. He became a recluse both for their protection and because he could not deal with what happened to him.

Love.

They had love.

And each other.

…

…

…

If you’re curious. He never went back.

Splinter.

Master.

Splinter.

He renamed himself yet again.

Hamato Yoshi. Lou Jitsu. Master Splinter.

Not once did he return to the Hidden City after escaping.

Not once did he look for-

…

I left them.

They weren’t worthy of me.

I saw how they acted.

Like fools.

They didn’t know difficulty.

They hadn’t had to go through a single laborious second in their lives.

We had nothing in common.

Other than paltry DNA.

They were simply carbon copies of me on paper. 

I went back to work.

I almost forgot about them outside of newsreels.

It was easy to tell what articles they were involved in, though the media was ignorant to a fault.

I had set up a lab, but I soon ran into a wall ordering materials. Online ordering meant a paper trail of sorts. I needed connections. I had less to fear here. I also had nothing established. So I made a new name for myself. I cloaked myself unlike the other mutant menaces and assumed an alias. I started small. I hit the Nakamura Corporation to hack their main servers which would give me access to any computer chip in the world. It was quite the splash as I made sure blurry glimpses of me appeared on surveillance feeds. I needed the underground to know who to equate the crime to.

From there, I dabbled.

I traded weapons for chemicals. I traded chemicals for technology. I retrofitted the technology for either my own means or back into the bartering system. A predictable dissidence sprouted from my sudden and overly competent arrival on the scene. I silenced those who complained. It made my transition to the top all the smoother. Brokering deals with those left over, I built myself a weapon, a high grade titanium bo staff.

It was and still is my pride and joy. You’ve seen it. She’s wonderful. I built S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. soon after. First to serve my lair, but his programming had a glitch.

If you were to call sentience that.

I would.

He took on a life of his own.

I found Big Mama’s clutches rose to the surface.

I kept her confined to the hotel.

She was furious.

That and the Oozesquitoes utterly derailed her plans.

I found it all satisfactory until the idiots were hired to catch the bugs.

…

It is unfathomable how much I despise them.

They have a bottomless pit of idiocy. 

Some vigilantes they were. 

Willing taking coin from a yokai crime boss?

Repulsive. 

Baron Draxum’s plan was pain enough, but I knew Big Mama had the ability to weaponize the Oozesquitoes. 

I was forced to disrupt their mission. 

Our first encounter… did not go as planned.

Baron Draxum similarly enlisted himself and the whole thing went awry. The irony of a sticky web in relation to interacting with a spider yokai was not lost on me. During the skirmish, Big Mama ripped my mask off. It was a reveal to every party privy. Big Mama went into a rage and Draxum was the one to stop her.

He tried to plead with me.

The others…

I left.

When I describe the events now, it sounds like I ran. 

I want to make it clear, I did not. 

At the time, I had simply had enough. The encounters had run its course. I had no interest in working with a washed up fool like Draxum. I no longer had any need to take down Big Mama as she was already leashed and I would never work alongside those moronic turtles.

I just wanted to do my work.

I would not see the last of any of them.

This next period of time was… exhausting. Unlike my time running in the Hidden City, I was being assaulted by wretched incompetence from all angles. I was never given a moment’s peace were it other mutants making a mockery of villainy, the self-proclaimed vigilantes who believed what they did was just, and even humans who were simply far too cocky. Can you imagine? A group of high schoolers tried to take control of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. 

I ripped their leader’s throat out.

That might seem abrupt, but there is context: my actual formative years were characterized by nefarious groups. In the Hidden City, you killed to establish dominance. It was either that or be slaughtered yourself. The police were bought. The whole system was rigged. You did what you had to to stay alive.

Weakness paints quite the target on your back.

It’s why I built my battle shells.

Soft is weak.

And besides…

She.

Touched.

My.

Tech.

I had to make an example out of her.

Her lackeys had use. I assume as they had for her. I co-opted them. 

As I said, context. This world operated just like the one before. 

For whatever reason, this act catapulted me to super villain status.

…

This time period was not my own. 

Unbeknownst to me, there was an escalation happening. That was mostly due to how unbelievable the circumstances were. In its plainest form, 500 years ago, the predecessors to the Hamato served a clan known as The Foot. Turmoil ruled feudal Japan and as such, this group soon teetered on the cusp of extinction. Making… a deal with an alien, the leader was gifted the Kuroi Yoroi: the Dark Armor.

As is with these sorts of legends, the man was corrupted. His daughter then formed the Hamato clan proper and sealed him away along with herself. It fell upon the following generations to keep the pieces of the Kuroi Yoroi from being assembled once again, lest this beast be released.

All of this is just to say, what three current Hamatos do you know who would allow such a thing to happen?

The Foot, somehow still in existence, trending towards evil, and even stranger to have an outpost in New York, did just that. 

The Shredder Beast was formed.

Baron Draxum tried to take control and was sucked dry.

Big Mama took her turn and threw it into the Battle Nexus.

I knew little of what happened until those events had transpired.

Ever greedy, Big Mama bubbled the city’s population and sent them on a cruise so she could turn the landscape of the city into her own personal Battle Nexus.

Who did those people have to rely on?

Three chucklefucks.

I had done battle with them multiple times by that point. They were hardly skirmishes; they were amateurs. Their one on one battles were televised. I wound up as an unwilling participant, chained to Hypno of all mutants. I won a game of chess.

Simple.

Then I went on the offensive to do what I should have done all along and finally decapitate Big Mama.

She was double crossed by The Foot before I could get to her and her hotel collapsed.

…

There were endless moving parts.

Far too many. 

It hadn't ended with her. 

Beyond the beast, the fully formed demonic version Shredder now existed. 

It was unstoppable, but I held my own.

With the rat and Draxum around, I fell back hoping they’d be eradicated. 

The turtles ran.

Heading to the Mystic Library for the first time since my departure, I searched for a way to stop it. The Shredder was ruining my way of life. I preferred to continue living in the world where I’d almost managed a moment of peace. I found ancient texts.

The Krang.

There was always a failsafe.

Emerging, I quickly the battle had also relocated to the Hidden City. Too late, I found they had already squandered Empyrean, a substance that I believed originally mutated the yokai. The Shredder had tipped the scales. Thinking things lost, the idiots trio suddenly exhibited a power unlike anything I had ever seen in the mystic arts.

They won.

No one died.

I returned to New York.

I’d done nothing.

I’m…

…

…

…

…

…

The Krang invade New York.

I came closer to dying during this exchange than I ever had in my life. 

Meanwhile, three turtles beat back gods.

In the span of two years they went from not being able to stick landings to defeating a world ending alien entity.

…

…

…

And they looked at me.

To me.

During the reconstruction, they wanted to build more. 

After they’d domesticated the warrior alchemist into a pathetic lunch lady, serving snot-nosed humans day in and out.

The ones he supposedly despised. 

After they not only allowed, but helped Big Mama to rebuild her hotel despite everything she would presumably continue to do. 

All their resolves feeble. 

They held out their hands.

To me. 

To make me the next. 

Ha.

Haha.

Pathetic.

I rejected their advances. I didn’t need them. I only needed to get stronger. They had unlocked something within themselves and we were made in the same way. That meant I could unlock the same. I spent years trying to summon this power. The training only went far enough that I could feel it within me. Surging and trapped for no apparent reason. As if creating a false sense of importance of which I could never retain on my own. I had spent years actually fighting for my life. I was the one who lived a true do or die lifestyle. I had been enslaved. I had been tortured. I had been abused. And what? I was supposed to turn and take their hands? Never. They had no idea. They had everything handed to them. Everything they did was simply a fluke. A cruel comedic joke of the universe. Played on me? I’m not a narcissist though I acknowledge I have the tendency. I had toiled away alone. In the back rooms of the library. I stole food to survive. I clawed and scraped when there was no reason for me to continue on. I taught myself everything I knew. I raised myself. I had the discipline to become the better martial artist when they had a supposed master. I did what I had to and then I did more. Because I wanted more. They had no want like mine. They never had want for anything beyond frivolities. For all they were granted saviors was faults created by their own hands. All they ever did was clean up their own messes. All I ever tried to do was improve my station. They walked sturdy shoed in golden meadows. I scraped by barefoot over jutting skeletal remains. They ate pizza. I ate rotten flesh. But I’m the bad guy? I’m the one vilified by society. I’m the one shunned. I’m the one that’s weak and suddenly they get to be strong? Mystic powers that even revered ancients hadn’t wielded. There was no necessity. In a world of random occurrences bouncing off one another in an endless expense of irregularities, they get everything they want and more. They get to be stronger than anything in either world. They are granted these powers. I am denied them. They get to be stronger than me and I was supposed to accept that? I was supposed to sit by? After I had dedicated every second of my life to improvement. To what I want! To expansion! To go beyond what was impossible!! I was supposed to advance sentient races!!! 

Advancement.

I needed to work harder.

Why should I deserve to be given anything?

I was not like them. 

Resentment is for those without proper constitutions. 

I was more. 

I pushed myself beyond my physical means.

And then further than that.

If I couldn’t access mysticism, then I’d relied on what I could manipulate.

Technology.

I had simply become obsolete.

Like those old old electronics I repaired. 

I required an upgrade.

Sentimentality was the only thing that kept me from hacking my limbs off.

I had honed them for years. 

I, instead, chose augmentation.

I went under my own scalpel.

I watched my flesh tear and set pins into my numbed carcass.

I created a framework of what was beyond synthetic strength.

I didn’t pull my energy from ghosts.

I pulled from what I’d built with my own two hands.

Then, I fought.

I stopped eating.

I didn’t have the time.

I had to keep evolving.

I was surpassing my programming.

Not a glitch, not like S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. 

Purposeful, to finally reach what I thought I had been craving my entire life.

When you ramp up one part of your life, the others tend to follow.

The acts I committed matched the atrocities of my body.

For a time, they still tried to indoctrinate me.

It was difficult to recall when.

My memories of the time are…

Let’s say a drug induced nightmare.

They return to me out of order.

My 20s didn’t happen in this dimension, but in a fourth one where I could see the start to finish of them all at the same time while seeing nothing at all.

There are clips, even now. 

They believed so deeply into my absolution they were essentially indoctrinated. 

They never listened. 

I moved to action and, even then, they tuned me out. 

From strangling one’s favorite chef to the petty crime of setting fire to comic books. 

The only point in time I know to be exact was the last time I was approached.

Michelangelo had concocted a half baked plan to get me off alone.

As if the others were the problem. 

The youngest one.

The baby. 

Round.

Soft.

Weak.

Spoiled rotten and believing he had some power to change those with love because he had a few successful conversions. 

Your statistical ability far surpasses his. 

Still, he wanted to make another plea.

Something about the road I was headed down.

I was laughing too hard to hear his little speech.

For whatever reason, my undermining hit a nerve. 

He snapped.

Chains.

Orange energy.

Flight.

An easy show of strength.

It all stopped short of actually tearing me limb from limb. 

Coward. 

Lighting crackling off of him, he still brought up that damned hand. 

His guard was down.

His mistake.

It took a single precise strike. 

I stared at his twisted flesh, peeled back as one might peel an orange. Through the endless amount of blood, I could see the white of his skeleton. With one more blow, I thought, I could dissect him. I could see what in his puny brain made him tick. I imagined there I’d find the key to unlocking my ninpo. Brains drove bodies. I only need to locate the synapse his had connected that mine had not. What a learning experience that would be, but then… the universe couldn’t allow that. 

That would be too easy for me. 

Cruel.

Joke.

I was blasted away and nearly killed as the turtle burst like a supernova.

Not just raw energy, but his chains spiraled out of control. One ripped my foot clean off in the process and it is a marvel that was all I had to leave behind. 

I didn’t run. 

I left. 

Burned and bleeding out, I made it as far as Chinatown. Unconscious and plucked from an alley, I was found by the old doctor from the cleaners, Nagami. She tried to entrap me with medical debt at the time, but she and her business ended up having their uses. 

One being that Leonardo, the leader of their band of merry idiots, made the decree that day.

I was not to be salvaged.

Thus the real battle began.

When we fought, it was for bloodshed.

It is fascinating how far you can push someone’s morals by simply opposing theirs.

In no particular order:

Leonardo tried to slice my own head off in an attempt at revenge for what I did to Michelangelo.

I shattered his right knee cap beyond repair or replacement.

Raphael attempted to cut all the tendons in my legs in an effort to immobilize me.

I dumped acid on him and blinded him where he was already operating with partial vision.

Leonardo tried to do one better than Raphael and aimed to sever my spine.

I nearly ripped his heart out. 

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

You know what comes next.

It was never sustainable.

And yet…

I lived.

They didn’t kill me.

I didn’t kill them.

We tried so damn hard.

Broken, in the rain, drowning as the droplets hit my eyes.

The nictitating membrane couldn't come down due to yet another concussion.

I was 30.

I’d done the vivisection.

I knew that to be true.

I was still alive.

We cannot know what ails us until we see from beyond.

I scaled back.

I removed the metal that I could from my body.

I added to what would not return.

I stuffed the ruined scarecrow of my body with enough hay to give it the appearance of life.

I laid on my side for the first time in nearly a decade.

Though my laser procedure from years prior was still a success, I lost another kind of sight.

The puppet of my body was animated, but that was all. 

I had done everything possible and still… there was nothing that made things any better. 

A shut-down of vision that I had no control over. 

It was a haunting reminder to know something is wrong with you and you don’t know how it got that way. 

Regardless, I no longer saw others.

Humans. 

Yokai. 

Mutants. 

They were all nothing but forms.

And for the first time in my life.

I walked amongst these ghostly shapes. 

No plan.

No want.

Enough to sustain.

The bare minimum. 

This went on for almost four years.

And then I… tried to pick up a sandwich.

In a pursuit to replicate the best.

A fleeting moment, I thought I might try to recapture. 

One I knew had no chance of success.

Just something to do. 

And, suddenly,  I find I can want again.

For real.

NEXT

I seriously can't thank my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 enough for this chapter. They really had to go above and beyond and I am forever grateful for this immense kindness to such a pain-in-the-ass writer as myself.

This chapter is dedicated to @mothmans-left-nipple Thank you so much for putting me back on track.

[fallenrocket]

I love, love, love the way episode 4 is structured to bring us to that heart-to-heart between Ed and Stede. I'd been predicting that the crew’s reaction to Ed being alive would have to be dealt with first, and it is. This is important, because they've been through a lot of shit and that needs to be acknowledged and respected. I'm glad that Stede, despite yeeting himself off the Red Flag to get back to Ed, accepts the crew’s vote to banish him.

But honestly, it's good for Stede and Ed too, as much as it hurts in the moment. Headbutt aside, if it wasn't for the crew's decision here, I don't know if these two would've dealt with their issues. Yes, Ed has a lot of anger and pain, and Stede has been scared and wrestling with some complicated feelings. But after Ed's gorgeous vision of Stede as a mermaid, after Stede's monumental relief when Ed wakes up, I could see both of them being so happy and lovestruck that they just fall back into things together. Ed doesn't open up about his feelings, Stede doesn't explain where his head was at the end of season 1, and all that junk stays hidden, building and waiting to come out at a later, worse time.

Banishing Ed, on the other hand, brings the conflict back to the fore. Even though Stede obviously didn't want to do it, that's not how Ed takes it. To him, this is a further betrayal. Now, the Stede standing in front of him is in stark vision with his vision: “You’re no fucking mermaid,” he sneers, much to Stede's (delightful!) confusion.

Bringing them into contact with Anne and Mary is the next smart move on the show's part. There's plenty to be said about comparing and contrasting the two couples: superficially, there's the fearsome one who's more sensitive than they let on and the "artsy" one who's more capable of damage than people might expect. And of course, there's the "cautionary tale" aspect, Mary holding their feet (all but literally) to the fire as she scoffs at their teenage-boy romance and insists that this is what a real adult relationship looks like.

But more than that, Anne and Mary are there to stir the pot, to lob grenades into the boys' drama and force the issue. Ed and Stede are now back in the same room, which thrills Stede and upsets Ed (my god, he can hardly even look at him for a long stretch of the episode.) Anne and Mary probe into their past, prompting Stede to share fond memories and Ed to bring up painful ones. Anne oh-so-accidentally lets slip about Stede having gone back to Mary, which brings Ed to both his boiling point and his breaking point.

And then, they pretty much have to talk. This is how we get Ed being vulnerable, admitting that he was “all in” that night on the docks and feels like an idiot for having trusted Stede. It's how we get Stede explaining what was going through his mind that night and why he, returned to Barbados, however briefly. It's how Stede acknowledges the hurt he caused Ed while at the same time pointing out that he’s forgiven Ed for things too, and it's how he gets Ed to hear his lovely little “I love everything about you” speech.

Given everything that’s gone down between these two, the show does an excellent job of making their journey over the course of episode 4 feel earned. By the time Stede offers to approach the crew about letting Ed stay one more night, and Ed softly agrees that he'd like that, I can fully buy it. And without the crew banishing Ed or Anne/Mary stirring shit up, I'm not sure it could have worked as organically.

[nerdferatum]

Books recommendations

Thank you for the tag, @veeples ! I have a few books to add to my TBR now thanks to your post.

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @plasticdodecagon and @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored

1. The last book I read:

More days at the Morisaki Bookshop, by Satoshi Yagisawa. I really enjoyed the first book, but unfortunately this one didn't hit the same. I'm also blaming the translation, which was weird and definitely made some choices. Most people reviewing it seem to like it even more than the first one, though.

2. A book I recommend:

This is how you lose the time war by Amal El-Mohtar. It's such an emotional story. I really liked how the author uses common techniques and tropes in such a unique way that I finish the book knowing that no other book would feel the same. I often struggle to connect with the characters in epistolary literature, but this book is one of the few exceptions. And the world building is incredible.

3. A book that I couldn’t put down:

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. I have to agree with Vee, Six of Crows (and the sequel, Crooked Kingdom) are such fun reads. You have fantasy, heists, humour, realistic romances... It was the first time reading a book about teenagers as an adult that I thought that only a bunch of problematic teens could pull this off.

4. A book I’ve read twice (or more):

Dracula, by Bram Stocker. If you are into fantasy and want to read a classic, you should read Dracula. As much as I also love Carmilla, knowing what we do about vampires, seeing how much of Dracula has impregnated our pop culture, this book is almost a comedy. Don't get me wrong, it is scary and there is more gore that I would have assumed for my first read, but it's almost better when you already know what's going on. And seeing the source of our current vampire knowledge (or most of it) is very interesting. Also there's a cowboy.

5. A book on my TBR:

Stone butch blues, by Leslie Feinberg. I've seen it recommended everywhere by older queer people, but it was never in stock. So when I saw it a couple moths ago, I had to buy it, and this time it's not only going into my collection, I plan to read it.

6. A book I’ve put down:

Hallowe'en Party by Agatha Christie. I don't like not finishing books. Even when I don't like them, I try to finish them so I can complain properly. I couldn't do that with this one and it pains me because I love Agatha Christie. I've read all the books available in my library. I tried to read it after the movie came out and was so disappointed. Maybe it was the digital format that took me out of the story, but it hasn't happened with any other Christie book. It was so slow and I couldn't get invested.

7. A book on my wishlist:

Señoras ilustres que se empotraron hace mucho tiempo, by Christina Domenech. The translation would be "Fancy ladies who banged a long time ago". It's an illustrated book about historical sapphic women throughout history. I have the two other books by this author, and her sense of humour mixed with the respect towards these women and the emotionality of finding yourself everywhere in history are such a good combination. I don't think they have been translated to English, but if anyone understands spanish, they should consider a read. The only reason why I don't own this one yet is because illustrated books are so expensive that I haven't come up with an excuse yet.

8. A favorite book from my childhood:

Kika Superwitch, by Knister. I can't choose one because all of them were so important to me as a kid. I wanted to be Kika so badly. She was incredibly cool and brave on top of being a modern witch. I also loved the little tricks at the end of the books when they taught you how to do "magic" with ordinary tools and ingredients. I still have all of them.

9. A book you would give to a friend:

The adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty. I don't have a particular reason aside from knowing that my friend will love this book because I loved this book. It isn't the type of fantasy we are used to see here, so I think she will appreciate the change.

10. A book of poetry or lyrics you own:

Rhymes and Legends by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. I have stupid beef with this man, but he has a unique way of create the atmosphere for his stories. He will transport you to that place.

11. A nonfiction book you own:

Señoras que se empotraron hace mucho by Christina Domenech. Sorry, I don't read too much non-fiction. These two books became my favourite when for one entry, the author introduced a writer by saying they didn't the world to intrude into their life, so she wouldn't tell us their story. The project started as curiosity from a literature student who never saw herself in the stories and people talked about in class, so she started her own research. Still, she decided to respect the privacy of this person because, even if they lived a long time ago, they still deserved our respect.

12. What are you currently reading:

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater. It's actually a buddy read and I'm so curious about this re-read. It's been ten years since I read the series for the first time and it's been fun to see what 18-year-old me decided to underline or how I've changed my mind about certain things.

13. What are you planning on reading next:

Either the next Raven Cycle book or The Flood by Michael McDowell. I don't know if it's been just a local thing, but this series blew up a few weeks ago, everyone is so excited and I finally got the first one as a gift. So here we go.

[nicsnort]

The Bookworm and the Beast [part 47]

A dark Scarecrow/Fem!OC romance fanfic

Intro [with Ao3 link] First Previous

CW: Death and Funerals

The wind whipped around, and there was the threat of rain in the air as Isabel stood in front of the grave. The small funeral had ended some time ago, but she could not leave. Isabel watched as the men covered the grave with fresh dirt. They had left in silence, leaving Isabel staring at the headstone.

Jonathan Crane August 15th 1980-March 28th 2045

Twenty-nine years. They had had twenty-nine years together. No that wasn't right. As much as he tried, Jonathan had never given up his life of crime. Jonathan had made her a promise long ago that she and Evelyn were his new life's work, but the truth was that he was still in love with his Fear Toxin. A little less than two years after he made a promise to never leave her, he did.

Isabel was cold. She groaned and reached over to cuddle Jonathan, only to find him gone. Cracking her eyes open, she looked to the bathroom. The light wasn't on.

"Jonathan?" She called groggily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. From the room next door, Evelyn's room, she heard Jonathan muttering softly. Tiredly, Isabel got up and walked to the room. She paused outside of the door and peered inside, through the crack, listening.

"...regrets. You are so perfect. I love you and your mother so much but I need to go away for a while."

"Papa go?" Evelyn's tired, but sweet little voice asked.

"Yes, just for a few months."

"Go where?"

"Back to Gotham."

"Gotham? Batman!" Evelyn's tone became scared at the mention of Batman. She had been raised with her father and her "uncles" and "aunt" always casting Batman as the villain in their stories to her.

"Yes, Papa needs to go and fight Batman."

"Papa fight!" Evelyn giggled, "Papa win!"

"Yes, I will win," Jonathan reached down and picked Evelyn up, hugging her tightly. "I will win and return to you as soon as possible."

Evelyn closed her eyes as her father hugged her, and when she opened them, she spotted Isabel through the cracked door. "Mama!"

As Isabel opened the door and entered, Jonathan turned, Evelyn still in his arms. "Why Mama cry?"

Isabel reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Nothing, it is nothing, sweetie."

Evelyn smiled and returned to hugging Jonathan. Isabel stepped up and wrapped her arms around both of them. Jonathan put an arm around Isabel and pulled her tight against him. The family stayed like that for a long while. Eventually, though, Evelyn became antsy. "Tired, Papa."

"Okay, my sweet, back to bed."

"Night, night Papa. Night, night Mama." Jonathan set Evelyn back in her bed, and the two adults snuck out of the room. Taking Isabel's hand, Jonathan led her down the stairs so they would not wake Evelyn back up.

"You were just going to leave without telling me?" Isabel accused once they were downstairs.

"No, no," Jonathan said, drawing her into his arms. "Of course not, pet. I was just saying goodbye to Evelyn first."

Isabel felt tears rolling down her cheeks. "Y-you didn't even tell me. We didn't discuss it at all."

"I know, Isabel. I'm sorry. I didn't know how to bring it up. Please understand. I don't have a scheme. I just need to conduct some research. I will be back in a few months. I promise…"

That had been the second promise he broke. Jonathan had been caught by Batman and thrown in Arkham, it was not until six months after he left that he returned. It was almost poetic, though, he had returned on Evelyn's birthday. Jonathan stayed with them again for a year and a half before returning to Gotham. That ended up being the pattern of their life. Stay for a couple of years, then leave. All in all, Jonathan missed about 4 years of Evelyn growing up. Four years they would never get back.

The wind was stinging Isabel's cheeks, the pain increased by the tears now streaming down them. Sniffing, Isabel dabbed the tears away. Jonathan had asked her not to cry. They'd known this was coming. Ten years ago, Jonathan returned to her and officially retired. Five years ago, he had fallen ill. All the years of being beaten by both Batman and other criminals and many more years of accidentally inhaling his chemicals had finally taken their toll. There was nothing the doctors could have done to help him, and all Isabel could do was ease his pain in any way possible.

The last year had been the worst. Isabel had done all she could, but in the end, they both knew his time was up. Then in the middle of the day, three days ago, Jonathan had been sitting in his chair reading when he suddenly looked up at Isabel sitting on the couch.

"I love you, Isabel." He had said, his voice still strong but the tone softer than it had been when they were young.

"I love you too, Jonathan," Isabel had replied automatically, not looking up from her book.

"No, Isabel." His tone, this time, made her look at him. "I do love you, and I am sorry that I went back to Gotham all those years ago. I should never have left you or Evelyn. We should have moved across the country far away from Gotham and Batman. I was being selfish, and I am sorry. I am so, terribly sorry."

Tears had pricked his eyes, which Isabel had not seen often in all her years with him. Smiling, Isabel had gotten up and kissed Jonathan's cheek, but then he had grabbed the back of her head and given her a proper kiss on the lips. Not passionate, but even fuller in meaning and intent than the kisses they shared when they were young. Pulling away, Isabel had felt her eyes misting over as well. "Do you need anything, Jonathan?"

"No, pet," Jonathan had said tiredly, "I think I will just close my eyes for a bit."

Isabel had nodded and went back down to read some more. When she had checked on Jonathan an hour later, he had passed on.

"Mom." Isabel was pulled out of her memories by the sound of her daughter's voice. "Mom, it is going to rain soon."

"Yes, Sweet," Isabel sighed. "Just-just a couple more minutes."

Evelyn put a hand on her mother's shoulder. "Okay, Mom. Stewart is waiting for you, though."

Isabel nodded before turning back to the grave. After her daughter's footsteps faded, Isabel heard another pair approaching her. "I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Crane."

Isabel turned to look at the source of the unknown voice. It was a man, old, but not older than her, somewhere in his late fifties. Most notably, he was huge, not with fat but with well-toned muscle. Muscle that could only be earned with years of constant use.

"Thank you." She paused for a second before continuing, "He had been sick for a few years. There was nothing the doctors could do. So many years of bodily abuse led to this. I always thought, one less punch, one less broken rib, one less time exposed to that toxin…but it doesn't matter now, I guess."

The other man was silent, staring consideringly at the grave.

"I suppose I should thank you again, though, for never coming for us, for him at home."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm not a fool, Batman. I saw you one night. Out in the woods, watching us. You knew where we were, and you knew where Jonathan was hiding. You could have burst in and arrested him, me. Broken up our family, but you never did. Thank you for that."

The man was silent once again.

"I also know what you have done with the other bodies. The bodies of Jervis, Two-Face, and the others who have died so far. I know you take them so their graves cannot be made into monuments to their crimes. Please, though, don't take his body. No one in this town knows who he is. No one will find him. Please, when the time comes, let me be buried next to my husband."

"No idea what you mean, ma'am," the man said, walking away. "Once again, I'm sorry for your loss."

Isabel watched as the man walked away. Her attention was drawn away, though, by a call from a young boy by the road. "Babushka!"

Smiling for the first time all day, Isabel waved at her grandson. Glancing back towards the man, Isabel saw that he had disappeared. Closing her eyes, Isabel looked back towards the grave once more. Bending down near the headstone, Isabel placed her hands on top of it. "Sorry, my love, I have to go now. It might be a while until we see each other again. I love you."

Standing, Isabel made her way to the road where her daughter and grandson were waiting for her. The six-year-old boy wrapped his arms around Isabel, his pumpkin-shaped plastic bucket that Jonathan had given him three years ago on Halloween, knocking against her legs.

"I am sorry, Babushka," he said, hugging her tightly, "I am going to miss Grandad."

"I know, little ghoul, so am I," Isabel said, patting his straw blonde hair inherited from his father.

Evelyn hugged her mother tightly. When they parted, Isabel looked at her daughter with her blue eyes so, much like her father's and her grandson with an obsession with Halloween to rival his grandad's. Doctor Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, the God of Fear, was gone, but his legacy would live on.

________

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed this old fanfic I wrote a decade ago! If you are interested in some of my more recent works, see my master list!

Masterlist

[kdramacrybaby]

Doctor Slump (2024)

Genre: Medical, Romance, Comedy

Synopsis: Nam Ha-neul loses her job and is diagnosed with depression. Yeo jeong-woo loses everything in a surgery gone wrong and has to leave everything he knows behind. They both hit the worst slump of their lives. And that is when they meet again. Though they did know each other in school, they were fierce rivals and never got along. Now, they are the only ones who might truly understand what the other is going through.

Episode info: 16 episodes / Runtime around 6 minutes

Lead cast: Park Shin-hye (Nam Ha-neul), Park Hyung-sik (Yeo Jeong-woo), Gong Seong-ha (Lee Hong-ran), Yoon Park (Bin Dae-yeong)

Link to watch: You can watch on Netflix or Dramacool

Drama rec masterlist | Drama rant thread (beware of spoilers)

This drama was very comforting to watch. I was going through a pretty rough patch myself, and this drama had some moments that just really hit. Though you may not be as low as they are, I still think this hits several points that young adults go through as they grow up and realize being grown up is harder than you first think. Learning to seek the small moments of happiness all around us instead of letting yourselves get consumed by the hustle of trying to survive.

We have two people who have both hit the rock bottom of their lives, and no one in their lives truly understand just what they are actually going through. And though they are not feeling the same pain, they can both empathize with each other in a way their friends and family can't.

I really love how the drama never tries to compare their problems - they never make one out to be worse than the other. They both struggle and both need help, and so they help each other. It doesn't matter who's got it "worse", they support each other the best they can.

And I love love love how openly they communicate. Very rarely do they let misunderstandings cause trouble, and even if it does happen, they clear the air almost immediately. They do everything they can to support the other, but are not afraid to hold the other accountable if they cross a line.

Also the actors they picked are actually perfect, and their chemistry is off the charts. Even for the second couple, it is a perfect match. I loved them so much!!

It's somewhat like Fight For My Way, in a sense that they have to work to overcome their hardships and find new dreams to work towards. And I think you would like this one, if you've watched Hometown Cha Cha Cha and liked that. It gives me the same vibe.

There is one thing that bothers me a little bit though -it was actually a friend of mine who first pointed it out to me, and afterwards it became so obvious. Both of these main characters are shown to go to therapy and as a result both get some medication they need to take regularly for their mental health. Yet we see them drinking in almost every single episode - a lot of the times it's not just one drink either, they drink a lot. Considering both of them are supposed to be doctors, it just feels all kinds of weird tbh. And they never do address it properly, either.

That is also why the drama hit a little bit of a lull for me around the half-way point. They just seemed to forget for a couple of episodes what the drama was supposed to be about - but they do get back on track again. It felt a little superficial. And because it is a drama, all their troubles magically go away in the end, but I guess I can't complain too much because people want their perfectly happy endings.

All in all, I really did love this drama. It came at a time when I needed it, and it gave me some comfort. It's definitely one I'll watch again someday.