#just the kind of emotions his story stirs in me------- need more time to rotate this character in my head

[drenched-in-sunlight]

just a side note. i hc MiIes as trans, so whenever i draw him he's trans. that is all. have a good day everyone 🫡

[bigskydreaming]

@romanticism-is-maudlinism Hey nudge me when you next see me on here for more than just a hot sec, if you don’t mind? I have thoughts that your post just now stirred up....I mostly agree with you, although I’d say the eldest daughter jokes are certainly amplified by fandom, rather than being an accurate depiction of canon - but that there IS a canon basis for that view of him and his role within the Batfam.....SITUATIONALLY. But just because Dick’s expected to navigate family tensions while in that role doesn’t innately mean that he has the full range of emotional maturity that people expect of an eldest child put in that role....because like you pointed out, those expectations are unrealistic and unreasonable. 

So I just mean, I agree with you that Dick’s not the paragon of emotional maturity he’s often made out as, nor should he be expected to be....I just disagree that the trope itself is a largely fanon thing. Again, its not as BIG of a thing in canon as it is in fanon - but I think that has more to do with how the canon Batfam as a whole just isn’t nearly as interconnected as they’re made out to be in fanon. They simply don’t play off each other’s stories and character arcs nearly as frequently as fanon treats them as, and thus logistically, that trope isn’t anywhere near AS present in canon as is implied by fanon.

But I do think its there, such as in the context of how he’s expected to handle his brothers’ conflicts over the Robin mantle, and the dynamic it gives them with Bruce, with little to no consideration ever given to what a clusterfuck his and Bruce’s relationship was at the end of his time as Robin, and how little resolution Dick’s ever gotten for that himself. Etc.

That said, I also agree that Dick’s relationships with the Titans are often overly romanticized as being so superior to his dynamics with the Batfam, when like...his relationships with the Titans are often trainwrecks happening in slow motion. But there’s another interesting angle to consider there, I think, that I want to touch on later when I have time.....and that’s the role Dick plays within the Titans and the Batfam franchises CONTEXTUALLY....and how that affects how writers approach him and his dynamics differently in each franchise.

Like, I do think that at least part of why a lot of people default to seeing the Titans franchise as a better showcase for his character....is because situationally, Titans writers as a whole are a lot more conscious of Dick being a PEER to the other Titans, even when he is their leader. The conflicts crafted for him to have with various other Titans are crafted deliberately TO be conflicts that need a resolution....and so they generally get a resolution - even if we personally might not always find a given resolution satisfying.

In contrast, I think a lot of writers (especially these days) tend to approach Dick-in-the-Batfam-franchise as being a utility player. He’s the ultimate supporting character because LOGISTICALLY he’s occupied most of the roles the other Batfam members rotate through at various points. He’s been Robin, Batman, Bruce’s junior partner, Robin’s senior partner, Bruce’s sole current ward/heir/son, the reluctant older brother, etc. He’s been fired, replaced, been both a mentor and a protege, been viewed as the golden standard Bruce is proud of and the rebellious prodigal son Bruce is estranged from, etc, etc....so he has a unique ability within the Batfranchise to fill most any role the writers WANT someone cast in, in order to play them off of one of his siblings or Bruce himself when they need someone for that other Batfam character to relate to or act as a foil to, etc.

Which leads to the problem I frequently rant about in terms of DC’s entire approach to Nightwing over the past decade especially....where its not that DC hates Dick Grayson (well, at least non-Didio DC) or wants to make him look bad or tarnish his reputation, its just that.....they’re more focused on how useful he is for telling all kinds of other Batfam and Bat franchise stories at the expense of keeping in focus his own narrative needs, character arc and stories. 

He’s CONVENIENT for the Bat franchise in a way that isn’t true of the Titans franchise, and thus the Titans franchise tends to have a better track record of telling stories that showcase Dick-Grayson-the-character rather than Dick-Grayson-the-plot-device.

And to tie this back to what I was saying about the appearance of the Titans being a better environment for Dick-Grayson-the-character than the Batfam is......from a character standpoint, as seen by fans who are keeping his character in focus the whole time, both when reading his Titans stories and his Batfranchise stories.....I’d say there is a marked difference in how Dick is written and treated by Titans narratives, and the KINDS of stories he gets to be part of, allowing him more of a range of characterization....with him seeming ‘better off’ as a member of the Titans because all those conflicts he has within the group are deliberately sown by the writers, and thus, they’re very aware that they HAVE to come up with some kind of resolution to those conflicts, even if its just a temporary one, set within a much larger/longterm character arc.

In contrast, within the Batfranchise, his own needs as a character and his own nuances and even shortcomings....even when fully on display to readers, who are approaching the Batfranchise stories from the same angle they are Titans stories.....these elements of Dick and his stories are far more glossed over and neglected, rarely getting any kind of satisfying resolution to the conflicts that readers see as ones that SHOULD logically be on display....

Because the WRITERS aren’t approaching the stories the same way. And thus when writing Dick-Grayson-the-plot-vehicle whose presence in another Batfam character’s story is largely just to facilitate their emotional arc (such as Dick being targeted by KGBeast JUST to fuck with Bruce, followed by the sheer lack of any resolution as to what Dick might feel about that being the reason his life was derailed for a couple years, or actually a better example of this might be how Dick was written in the issues around Bruce’s wedding)....the writers aren’t really even thinking about the conflicts or issues this SHOULD raise for Dick-Grayson-the-character....because he’s not there TO be a character, he’s there to be the utility player that nobody else (again, SITUATIONALLY) is as optimally positioned to be as he is, by virtue of being the first and oldest Robin/son/heir/protege.

All of which leads to a clear discrepancy in how Titans stories and Batfam stories depict his actual range/level of emotional maturity or wellbeing....because the former is INTENDING to pull Dick’s emotional issues and trauma into frame, specifically in terms of how these things affect his dynamics with his peers.....while the latter isn’t prioritizing those things at all, let alone how they might factor into his dynamics with his family. And this leads to a purely artificial inflating of his emotional maturity in Batfam stories.....because no matter how Dick SHOULD be reacting or impacted by events or other characters, realistically.....he’s always able to be the precise voice of reason, middle-man, mentor, confidante or whatever other role the story has cast him in....that the story NEEDS him to be....because that’s literally why he’s there.

And thus I’d argue there’s a SUPERFICIAL basis for seeing the Titans as a better franchise/setting/cast for Dick’s character than the Batfam ever could be....because the reason is purely situational and COULD be easily changed just by shifting writer focus and priorities in the latter, to match the former. But really, it has nothing to do with the Titans just being predisposed to be better for him emotionally and a better showcase of his emotional maturity or lack thereof.....its wholly logistical. 

Especially because - as you pointed out - his relationships with the Titans are very frequently a mess. They’re just a mess that tends to get cleaned up more often than the messes that linger in his Batfam stories because the writers failed to notice they even made them.

[theramblinghockeydude]

Music is good for the soul

I love music, always have. I am also very picky about the music I listen to and kind of have that grumpy old man view of music as I don't like to venture outside of my comfort music and hear new things and I am a firm believer in "the stuff these kids listen to these days is horrible, not even music...why back in my day..." Big fan of rock music. Give me some great guitar riffs and drum and I am good to go. I also like a little piano every now and again, but it has to be the right kind. Elton John, that man knew how to do piano rock. Billy Joel kind of has it on lock as well. Country music is a huge no for me despite many people in my life trying to convert me...I am looking at you Heather with your Reba tape and getting me to go to country concerts with you :) I have also been known to listen to some Rap and Hip Hop and more recently...funk. Earth, Wind and Fire, yes please. I grew up listening to bands like Motley Crue, Ratt, Poison, Whitesnake, LA Guns, Cinderella (very confusing for my sister when she was just a wee little tyke). My favorites were Bon Jovi and Def Leppard back in the day. That changed around 1998. I had started getting into Christian Rock music a little more and started looking for more music in that genre. That is when I found Disciple and the rest is history.

What did I love about Disciple? The first thing that drew me to them was a song called, "I Just Know." Basically this song stated my faith perfectly. I don't care how you worship or what your traditions are, however you decide to worship, I just know Jesus is the way. That was exactly how I felt despite what some around me were telling me, you have to worship this way and not that way. Disciple came with a message...as long as Jesus is at the center of it all, go for it. As a Christian who was struggling to find his identity back then, it was the message I needed to hear, so I kept listening. 25 years later they are still my favorite band and they still keep pumping out music that not only speaks to me, but has the elements of rock that I love.

What is it about music in general that I personally love? Thank you for asking, that is a great question. I love how a well written song can make you feel. I love how songs can transport you back to a specific place in time, or make you think of a specific person in your life. I feel like, at least for me, music is attached to everything. There are songs in my playlist that I probably wouldn't still listen to today, but they remind me of a time and place that was important in my life. Disciple has at least one song on almost every release that stirs up huge emotions in me because of the message of the song. I love that, it makes me feel alive inside, let's me know that I have not given into the world around me and become numb. By the way, "Numb" by Linkin Park...great song. When you take a deeper dive into the music sometimes and you find out the story behind the song, that can totally change it for you. Disciple has a song, "Things Left Unsaid." The song is about saying your final goodbyes to someone and remembering the times you had with them. Here is a quote from Kevin about that song ""Things left unsaid" is also a really meaningful song for me. It was written when my grandfather died and it's the only way I really got through it." When my grandma Helen passed away, I couldn't listen to that song for maybe a year or so, it was just too hard because I knew the meaning behind it and why Kevin wrote it and it was just too hard to hear it without absolutely losing it. I am happy to say the song is back in rotation now and even though it makes think of my grandma every time I hear it, that is ok because I love remembering her. I just feel like music is so powerful that way, with how it can make you feel. Get you hyped up and ready to take on the world, mellow you out when you are anxious, give you the warm and fuzzies with the memories attached. Powerful stuff.

We have the background now on why I love music and who some of my favorites are. Let's dive into a story or two, because, well, I have a few.

I have seen Def Leppard many times in concert over the years, which is cool because they were always my favorite until they were dethroned. My favorite concert was at the Bismarck Civic Center. I believe I was in college at the time and I went with CJ. During that particular concert they played "in the round" where they set up in the middle of the floor and you crowded around the stage. No opening act, just Def Leppard and they played for what seemed like forever. Every song you wanted to hear was hit, it was the perfect experience and I was with a great friend, couldn't really get any better than this. Side note, CJ was always up for a good concert. I have quite a few concert experiences that involve him and the music associated with those concerts will often remind me of him. Another side note...Bon Jovi was also a huge favorite of mine back in the day, never have seen them live, kind of a bummer as I would have loved to back in the day before Jon cut his hair and they got soft.

Disciple, have I seen them live...why yes I have, mind you it took me almost 10 years to finally have them close enough to go, but it eventually happened. I was at work one day and on the Disciple website checking tour dates and I often did just in case. Most of their concerts were in the Southern US at the time (they are from TN) and so the chance to see them live had avoided me. As I said, I was on this particular day and going through the tour dates when I saw, what I thought was ND next to a tour date. Had to look a couple of times to make sure, but low and behold...September 16th, 2007 in Jamestown, ND...Disciple. I have to be dreaming, no way this is possible. Yep, no matter how many times I looked, it was still there. Now, the tough part, how I am going to patiently wait a couple of months? It wasn't easy let me tell you, but finally that day came and i was off to Jamestown. I believe it was a Sunday, so it worked out great. I arrived in Jamestown way too early as I wanted to make sure I found the venue with plenty of time to spare, it was on the campus of Jamestown University and I found it with ease. I sat in my car for a couple of hours waiting for the doors to open...what was I listening to...Disciple :) The doors finally opened and I was inside. This was really going to happen, oh, and the cost of all this...$10. If I remember correct, there were 4 bands. Waverly, Dizmas, Fireflight and Disciple. I had heard Fireflight before that night, so I was very much interested in their show as well as I liked what I had heard. They did not disappoint. Disciple was the headliner, so I had to wait through the others to get there. Finally the moment came. Small venue, not a ton of people, I would say 250-300, so I was able to get right down front. Disciple came out and rocked for the next hour or so, was not disappointed at all in the show. They sound fantastic live. What I was most blown away with was the passion that Kevin sang with. I mean, this man put his entire heart and soul into that concert, left it all on stage. The part of the experience that I was not expecting...you get to meet the bands after the show. They all sit at tables and sign autographs and chat with fans after the show. Heck yeah, sign me up for that. I go through the lines for the other bands and just kind of hung back a bit to let the line for Disciple thin out as I had waited too long for this moment, wasn't going to let it go by without getting the most of it. Got autographs from the buys and talked with Kevin for quite a while, it was really cool and when I left that venue I was on cloud 9, the though to driving back to Minot at midnight didn't even phase me. On the drive back, between Jamestown and Bismarck, I was treated to a cool lightning show, which was a nice cherry on top of an awesome sundae...or Sunday if you will :) Rolled into Minot around 2:30 am, had a hard time falling asleep. Went into work the next day and got to tell my story as quiet a few co-workers knew how excited I was for that show. Sometime mid morning it dawned on me...they are Williston tonight...could I...should I...Ummm...yeah, I think it has to happen. I got permission to leave early and called my sister and asked her if she was up for a trip to Williston to hear some music. Of course she was, and so it was set. Concert that night was great as well, and was cool to see it with my sister. Funny story from that night. These two girls show up and you could tell...groupies looking to "get with the band." The vibe and feel was there. During all Disciple shows, Kevin will give a message, basically, what is on his mind and what he feels God is placing on his heart to tell others that night. My sister and I got a kick out the reaction those two girls had to it, once Kevin started talking about God and Jesus, they were out...could not leave fast enough...guess they were barking up the wrong tree.

I have seen Disciple in Jamestown twice, once in Maddock with my sister and BJ and another time in Minot at Bishop Ryan HS with Danny and his son Joey. That last one was cool because Danny is also a fan of Disciple and had never seen them live. I was able to talk him into going to that one. There is just something about being at a concert with a great friend that makes it even more special.

So, that is a bit of what music is to me with a couple of stories for good measure. I honestly am not sure what lies ahead musically for me. Will I find any new bands or am I too old and stubborn to branch out? Time will tell on that one. When will Kevin decide to call it quits? That will be a sad day for me. I am going to leave you with one last quick story involving music.

Back in the day at Farstad, Danny had workout equipment upstairs. I would go up after work and use them and, of course, Disciple was playing on the boom box. I come in one night and turn on the boom box expecting to pick up with my Disciple cd where I had left it the night before...instead, I get..."Jump Around." Danny had been up there after me the night and switched cd's on me. To this day is a funny little thing with him and I, but that song will forever remind me of him, and that, again, is the power of music.

I would love it if you would leave a comment here or on facebook with your favorite band or type of music. If you have a story involving music you'd like to share, that would be cool as well.

Until next time...

[banditthewriter]

Electric Love - Billy Russo - 5

I’m sure you all have forgotten about this story, but I wanted to get this posted since I’m going to be without internet. And you guys have been great with me not writing or posting since I’ve been so distracted lately.

Here we are, part 5! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut! Sorta! Yes, this is the smut that I was thinking about when I was with Chaotic Neutral.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

It looked like headlights, but how could that be? You were in a room, weren't you? It was dark, but there was a wall behind you.

The headlights grew closer, twin circles that seemed to glow white. They got closer until you could see something dark in the middle of each headlight.

Not headlights. Eyes.

Eyes that looked like flashlights and they were looking right at you. As they came closer, you could feel the presence creeping up the back of your neck.

Suddenly he was visible, his pale white eyes stood out as beacons on his pale face. There was a darkness on his forehead where the bullet had entered, but it was mostly healed.

And he was right in front of you. In your fear, you couldn't move. A gloved hand came out towards you, inching closer and closer.

Just as the hand clasped around your throat, you heard your name yelled from behind you in the distance.

"Y/N? Y/N, baby, wake up!"

You snapped out of the nightmare. With yelp, you sat back and away from where Billy had been hesitant to touch you.

Your entire body was sparking. The sheets were singed. And it looked like Billy hand a red blistered mark on his side where you had been resting against him when your powers kicked in.

"I'm so sorry," you cried as you nearly fell from the bed, forcing your hands under your arms to keep from accidentally blowing a hole through the floor.

"I don't care about that," Billy exclaimed as he got out of bed too, coming to stand in front of you. "What was that? It was like you were under attack."

You had been so focused on the fact that you were a danger to Billy that you'd forgotten your dream, but his question brought it screaming back to you.

Those eyes, the wound on his head, the hand around your throat. It'd felt so real. You could still feel the creeping feeling up the back of your neck like you did when the creator was trying to contact you.

"It was just a bad dream," you said as you slumped a little, barely holding yourself together. "I could have killed you over a stupid bad dream."

Billy tugged you into his arms despite your protests. Your powers were still tingling but he didn't flinch. Once you were certain that you weren't hurting him, you wrapped your arms around him as well.

"I don't care about that," he repeated as your hand went to his side where you must have shocked him pretty bad, "I didn't even feel it. I just care about you. That wasn't just a bad dream; your power lit up like you were fighting for your life."

That's what it had felt like. The fear that seeing the creator stirred in you had made you feel, even in your dream, like you were fighting for your life.

"It was about the creator. He was back and was going to kill me."

Billy wrapped his arms around your waist. You tucked your face into his neck and took a deep breath.

"He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone."

------

Frank and Billy had been planning non-stop on how to end Rawlins. You helped when you could, explained more about your powers, but they were the ones that knew him so they were the ones giving the information.

Billy stayed at Anvil a lot, using his contacts there to try to find the man. It seemed that the warehouse was completely empty so they didn't have a starting point.

You couldn't even use your powers to pull information off of the computers because there wasn't any electronic connection to the man.

The CIA wasn't big on paper trails. Even electronic ones.

While the men did their part, you were left to try to hone your powers. Meditation had helped before, so you did that. You also did little exercises to keep your powers in top shape.

Since finding Billy again, your powers had been unpredictable. Sometimes they were dormant around him, other times it was like they wanted to crawl out of you and into him.

And you still didn't understand how you could feel his emotions. It wasn't part of your powers as far as you could tell.

You had picked an abandoned warehouse for your practice. It meant being in an unfamiliar area, but it kept you from attracting attention once you started to light up like a Christmas tree.

Power built up in the pit of your stomach and you willed it through your left foot and into the ground. Then you did your right foot. You focused on each limb and felt the power move through you like water.

A halo of residual energy built up around you as you worked. You could feel it build, grow into something visible and nearly tangible. It was shaped… no, it wasn't possible.

You stepped back to get a better look and sure enough, the energy had formed an almost human figure. It was taller than you, wider in the shoulders.

A noise made you drop your concentration and the halo disappeared. It left sparks and a black circle on the ground, but you paid them no mind. Instead you turned towards the noise.

An inside door pushed open, revealing Gregory. His body was covered in the metallic sheen of his impenetrable power. You felt electricity flicker to life in your finger tips as you stared at him.

"How'd you find me?"

"Clive can still sense all of the metas that are alive," he explained, referencing one of the metas with a powerful mental capability. "He told me where you'd been staying but I didn't believe it. But when he told me you were out here in an abandoned warehouse, I knew it was my chance to talk to you."

Talk. You raised an eyebrow at him. Without much effort, you flicked one finger and watched a spark dart from you and then bounce off his chest without doing more than leaving a mark on his shirt.

"If you wanted to talk, you wouldn't have gotten all dressed up," you said as you looked at his tactical gear.

The kind of stuff both of you wore when you worked for the creator.

"You left me a note."

You had. In the days since you'd broken into his safe house, you wondered if you should have left that note. It was too late to take it back, but it meant he would look for you.

"You owe me. My half of everything we accumulated in our time together."

He pulled on a strap over his chest to reveal a black duffle bag. He unzipped it to show you the contents—and to show that it wasn't booby trapped. Then he threw it to your feet.

You bent down to examine the bag. Money, a few weapons, jewelry and gems. Then you saw the little black box that made you see red.

"You disgust me," you said as you tossed the box at his feet. "I wish I'd never met you."

Gregory bent down and picked up the box, his hands turning it over gingerly before he tucked it into one of his pockets.

"You found him, didn't you? Russo. That's who owns the penthouse."

You stood up and slung the bag over your shoulder.

"Don't say his name," you threatened before you turned to head over to where you left your things. "Billy is twice the man you'll ever be. Five times—a hundred times the man. You don't even deserve to say his name."

Gregory scoffed behind you.

"He's a murderer."

You spun around and pointed a gun at him, aiming for his head. Even at close range, the bullet wouldn't do any damage with his power activated. You rolled your eyes before you put the gun back in the bag.

"And what does that make us, huh?"

------

The black duffle bag was tucked under the edge of Billy's bed. You needed to talk to him about a few things before you could show him what you had.

When he got home that evening, you were a ball of restless energy. If it hadn't been for your control, there would be scorch marks on the floor. Instead you nearly launched yourself at Billy when he walked in the door.

"Well that's a greeting I could get used to," he remarked against your lips as you held on to him.

"You might have to," you joked as you sank back to your feet. "Have a good day dear?"

He laughed as he pulled off his suit jacket, undoing the button at the top and tugging off his tie.

"Work was work. Frankie had an idea for how we might find Rawlins. He's gonna work it with his buddy from the NSA."

You reached out to take his jacket and tie. Your hand touched his and you felt a zap, a little more than usual.

"Shit, sorry," you said quickly as you pulled your hand away, "I'm just a bundle of nerves tonight."

Billy dropped his stuff onto the floor, not caring at all. His hands went to yours and he tugged you closer.

"I've told you before, I don't care about that shit," he promised as he ducked his head down to give you a kiss. "Why are you a bundle of nerves? What's going on?"

You pulled away from him, but kept your hand in his. You guided him over to the couch and sat him down. Then you paced in front of him for a moment.

"A few nights ago during dinner, you wouldn't let me talk to you about something, but now we need to."

Billy leaned forward, his forearms braced against his thighs.

"You have my attention."

You rotated the ring on your finger back and forth as you tried to get the words in order. It felt like you were trying to pull the words out of your own heart.

And your powers were making the lights flicker a bit.

"You gotta calm down before you fry the lights babe, come here," he said as he tugged you down onto the couch with him. "What's going on?"

Finally you took a deep breath and let it out slow. You could do this.

"When I was working for the creator, I was involved with someone. He was another meta."

There was a flicker in Billy's eyes, but he didn't pull away from you. But that flicker didn't lessen at all.

"Involved, huh?"

You glared at him and shook your head.

"Oh and I'm sure you were a monk while I was supposedly dead, right? That's why you're so desperate to get me in the sack, because you've been celibate since I–"

He tugged you to him, his mouth a harsh press against yours. It felt like he was trying to devour you.

"I may not have been celibate, but I wasn't involved with anyone. No one could fill the hole that was left when you died. So I'm allowed to be jealous that while I thought you were dead, you were moving on."

Your heart felt like it was breaking. Carefully you moved so that you were kneeling next to him on the couch, your hands on his jaw to make him look at you. Yes, you could see he was jealous, but there was an ache in his chest as well that you could feel.

Distance. He felt so far from you right now and it hurt. You gently pulled him in for a kiss, soothing the hurt feelings between the two of you.

"I didn't move on from you Billy. I thought I'd never get to see you again or that you would have moved on. I thought I was a danger to you," you added as you traced a hand down his neck, letting him feel your power ripple across his skin.

"Y/N–"

"No, please, I just… I need to tell you all of this."

You stood up but kept one of his hands in yours. The rest of this would be hard to say, but you wanted him to know it was in the past. Needed him to believe that.

"I was involved with him but I didn't love him, not really. His power made his skin impenetrable so I felt like I could touch him without hurting him, but it wasn't love. Not for me."

Gregory had been a lifesaver when your life had been turned upside down. He had been there for you when you needed someone. You felt safe with him, but you never imagined your future with him.

Not like you had Billy.

And you told Billy as much, wanting him to know how you felt.

"You were—are—the only man I could ever want to be with, the one I want to spend my life with." You swallowed thickly and moved to sit beside him. "He tried to give me a ring, to propose that we get married and spend our lives together, but I refused."

It had felt so wrong when you saw the ring in the box. It was beautiful, without a doubt, but the man giving it to you wasn't Billy and it was wrong.

"Things moved pretty quickly after that. Most of the metas wanted to leave the creator and Gregory led the charge, got most of them away from him."

You remembered the night it happened as if it was yesterday. With most of the metas gone, the compound was quiet. The creator hadn't even reacted to learning he had been abandoned by his creations. Instead he'd taken one look at you and told you that he had a job for you.

The pentagon.

"This Gregory guy. That's who you went to see when you were gone for a few days."

It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. You nodded, but then immediately shook your head.

"I didn't go to see him, not technically. I went to get my half of the things we had gotten over our time with the creator. When he left, he took it with him. But he wasn't at his safe house in Jersey and I wasn't able to get into his safe."

You left the living room and grabbed the duffle bag. Then you dropped it on the coffee table, unzipping it and showing him what you had.

"He knew I'd stopped by and brought this to me when I was practicing my powers today."

Billy barely looked at the bag. Instead his eyes moved around your face.

"So he knows how to find you."

You wanted to growl at that. Why couldn't he shake this jealousy? It was obvious that you had made your choice.

"He used another meta to help find me, yeah, but I'm trying to show you that I have–"

He cut you off.

"I can see what you have," he said as he nudged the bag, letting piles of money fall onto the coffee table.

He didn't care about the money or other valuable items you had amassed. You'd go as far as saying he didn't even care about how you had gotten those items, especially since his hands weren't exactly clean.

He was still hung up on your relationship with Gregory.

You could have screamed. You had the power to fry a man where he stood and shut down the electrical grid for the entire east coast, but Billy was worried about a guy you had already admitted to never loving.

"Do you know why Gregory sought me out? He came to me, he started the thing between us, he pursued me. Do you know why? Because the creator told him to."

You moved over and sat down next to Billy, grabbing his hand and making him look at you.

"The creator knew that I was hung up on you and that I'd likely never get over you. He told Gregory to distract me, to seduce me even. And he did it. Sure, his feelings became real, but what did he do when I was unable to return those feelings? He left me alone with the creator and stole the things that I had kept in order to get away."

You would never forgive Gregory for that.

Billy leaned his head in to rest against yours, his hand coming to squeeze the back of your neck.

"You walked around for two years with a ring hanging from a key chain when you believed I was dead," you reminded him emotionally as you held on tight to him.

"I'm sorry; I don't like sharing," he explained as he gave you a kiss.

"Billy, you aren't sharing me. I belong to no one but I chose you." You swung your leg around so that you could straddle his lap. "I'm waiting for us to sleep together because when I'm with you, I want the only sparks flying to be harmless."

You almost burnt down the bed after a nightmare. You were terrified about what could happen if the two of you had sex.

He shook his head as he tugged you closer, his lips finding yours easily.

"I'm not rushing you here, not really. I want to be with you, but I want you to be comfortable. If that means waiting, I'll wait."

You loved Billy so much in that moment. Of course you always loved him, had from almost the moment you met him, but you were learning there was no limit to how he made you feel.

And you wanted to be with him too. You had missed Billy in your time not-dead. You loved being back in his embrace, without a doubt, but you did miss being with him.

Billy rubbed his cheek against yours, his hands settling on your waist. You still sat straddling his lap, your knees tucked against the back of the couch and your hands perched on his shoulders.

You turned your head and brushed your lips against his.

"I want to try something," you mumbled as you straightened your back, your hands folding into fists against his chest. "Hold my hips."

He gave you a look, confusion marked with interest. He lowered his hands to your hips as you had asked and waited for you to explain.

Instead of explaining, you gave a slow roll of your hips, forward and down so that you could drag against his groin. His mouth dropped open a small amount as he realized what you were doing.

"You gonna hump me like we're in high school?"

You laughed as you did it again, feeling his cock twitch in his pants as you did. He swore something under his breath as his hands tightened on your hips.

"It's not much, but it's something," you responded with a breathless laugh as you continued to roll your hips.

It was definitely something. As you moved on top of him, your hands carefully pulled away so that you wouldn't accidentally burn him, Billy began to move his hips as well.

With him thrusting up into you and you rolling your hips down to meet him, you found yourself moaning. He was hard in his pants, the friction and heat of you turning him on more and more. And the way his hard cock felt pressed up so close to where you wanted it—needed it—was making you wet. An ache raised up in the pit of your stomach as you moved against him.

"Billy," you gasped as he moved harder against you.

He nodded to show he knew what you were saying, twisting his hips harder and faster, holding you still as he did most of the work.

Electricity hummed over your skin deliciously. The lights were flickering overhead, the television coming off and on, but you tried to ignore it. Instead you kept moving, your hands up and fisted tight.

It was getting more and more intense, the scent of Billy in your nose and on your skin. He leaned in to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as he got closer to his climax. As your own snuck up on you, your hands shot out in either direction. A shower of sparks erupted from you, but you barely noticed. Billy finished thrusting against you, his head falling back as you felt his cock twitching in his pants.

His arms wrapped around your body and he tugged you forward. You still had sparks running under your skin, but Billy didn't seem to mind. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing kisses there as he did. You sighed as your own hands went to wrap around his neck, tugging him in for a kiss.

"I know it's not the same," you mumbled against his lips, but he shook his head and silenced you with a kiss that stole your breath.

"I love you."

You pressed your forehead into his shoulder and let out a little laugh, hoping your eyes would be dry when you leaned back.

"I love you too."

After a few moments of rest and snuggling, you got off of Billy's lap and flopped onto the couch next to him. He got up and rearranged himself in his pants, making a face as he did so.

"I'm gonna clean up," he said as he shifted his hips, heading towards the bathroom.

You needed to as well, the dampness between your legs making you feel good but also gross. You'd let him finish up in there and then clean yourself up as well.

When you stood up to go get some clean underwear, you remembered the little light show you had put on when your orgasm hit you. The two of you obviously didn't feel the sparks, but you needed to make sure you didn't burn anything.

There didn't seem to be any scorch marks, nothing fried. None of the nearby electronics looked ruined either. Even after that impressive showing, there was nothing damaged?

Maybe you could trust yourself not to hurt Billy after all. Whatever it was in you that protected him from your powers, maybe it would continue to protect him.

You didn't want to take the risk, not yet, but it was something to think about at least.

X

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[let-it-raines]

Not Your (soul)Mate {13/16}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I can’t gush on @captainsjedi enough for her artwork and support and overall kindness. Oh, or her tag flails. They’re my favorite thing in the universe. Also, I just want to give a shoutout to the nonnie who sent me the trope mashup of “soulmates + aroused by her voice” when I was playing that game back in late March because you gave me the inspiration to write one of my favorite stories❤️

Oh, and I want to thank all of you for clicking and reading and flailing! You make me so excited to post these chapters! The next three all take place within 24ish hours, so we’re getting to the climax (literally and figuratively), and then a fluffy little epilogue😘

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

The fan clicks as Killian stares at it rotating above him, the sound mixing in with his television that’s still playing, some kind of infomercial for mixing bowls on, and with the howl of the wind outside. The temperatures have rapidly dropped in the eleven days since the calendar hit October, and even though he’s yet to turn the heat in his apartment on, he is seriously thinking about getting out of bed to turn the fan off. But that would be such effort to move from underneath his covers, to let the cool air hit the bare skin of his arms and chest, so he doesn’t move, can’t move. It’s all too comfortable to stay in bed and hear about how he can buy this new set of mixing bowls for under twenty dollars.

He definitely doesn’t need any new mixing bowls.

There’s a vibration against his nightstand, and he makes the effort to reach over, letting the cool air cast over his skin for this brief moment, before he’s squinting at the bright screen of his phone and the gray messages that are popping up. His stomach flutters at the sight of it, making him feel like a ridiculous teenager, but that seems to be par for the course lately when it comes to anything and everything that has to do with Emma Swan.

She’d slap him upside the head or punch his bicep if she knew that he thought things like that, but, honestly, he’d take the slap with a smile on his face.

Now, she’d definitely slap him for that. Probably twice.

Emma: I realize that it’s three in the morning because my phone tells me so, but I just woke up and colored mixing bowls are being advertised on my TV. And I kind of need to know who in the world is buying mixing bowls at three in the morning?

Killian: Insomniacs and anyone who works the night shift and happens to be watching TV.

Emma: Why are you awake?

Killian: I needed new mixing bowls, and ordering off of an infomercial is the only way that I shop.

Killian: Why are you awake?

Emma: I was thinking of you in your one night stand’s mother’s bathrobe.

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head from side to side, and shuffles on his mattress, twisting to the side and pulling the covers up over his shoulders as he thinks of what exactly it is he wants to say back to Emma. It’s the oddest thing having to think of what he wants to say to her. Usually, he doesn’t think before he speaks…or texts, really. They haven’t physically spoken to each other since Ariel’s baby shower two weeks ago, and honestly, after he chased after her into Ariel’s bedroom because he could tell that she was upset, he figured that she’d cut him off. He knows Emma, has really gotten to know her intimately over the past few weeks and months, but they have gotten to know each other through texts and letters, not face to face conversations where one of them breaks down and shares their deepest secrets.

It’s not like they could talk to each other, not really.

For a long time, he thought that they shouldn’t talk at all, that if they did, he’d be entirely too uncomfortable in any pants that he was wearing and he’d be clenching his jaw enough to break teeth. His dental insurance isn’t good enough for that. It was this horrible sense of arousal, this thing that he couldn’t control and couldn’t do anything about, and it honestly felt like some kind of sick joke. But then a sick joke turned into a fun game, one where he could talk loudly to make Emma uncomfortable, one where they could tease each other out on the boat or in the Nolans’ backyard. Hell, they could even make each other uncomfortable (or technically far too comfortable depending on the definition of the word) standing in Ariel’s kitchen making pizza.

It was fun. Emma is fun. It gave him this sense of exhilaration to be able to connect with her, to interact with her, and even if it was entirely superficial at first, something inexplicably changed. He’d like to pinpoint it down to Labor Day, to her spending the morning with him and the twins and the afternoon out sailing with their friends, but he knows that it was before that. It was even before kissing her in what had to be one of the most explosive kisses of his life (firework pun completely and totally intended) in Leo’s treehouse while everyone else was watching David shoot fireworks into the sky. But he doesn’t know exactly when it all changed.

Not at all.

All he knows is that he has fallen in love with a woman who is enigmatic, charming, intelligent, beautiful, witty, and someone who he wants to talk to every day for the rest of his life.

Killian Andrew Jones loves Emma (No Middle Name) Swan with every fiber in his being, in a stomach twisting, notebook turning, high school scribbling on papers type of way.

It’s the craziest, most unusual, feeling he’s ever experienced, and while he thought that he was too old for all of this, thought that he would never feel love after Milah, Emma has proven him wrong in every single way.

She’s…for all of those things that he thinks Emma is, that he knows Emma is, he seems to keep circling back to maddening. Sure, it could go under the enigmatic category, but maddening seems to keep coming back to him. If it were anyone else, any other woman who he’s fancied, he would be sure that she fancies him too from the way they interact. There would likely be dates, phone calls, overnight stays, face-to-face conversations full of laughter and teasing and the occasional serious moment where they shared the depths of their hearts. And he would know for sure where things are going, whether that be a serious relationship or simply sex.

With Emma, he has no clue.

Because even if she had wanted to, they couldn’t have gone on dates, couldn’t have had phone calls, couldn’t have spoken. They could have had overnight stays, ones full of lust and sex and heated moments that never stopped, and as much as he craved that, still craves it, he mostly wants to know what exactly it is he and Emma are doing.

They are soulmates. There is no doubt in his mind about that, and despite the fact that they had a predicament at the beginning, he’s not entirely sure that it’s happening anymore. At Ariel’s baby shower, when Emma was sharing herself with him, when he was getting to learn about the depths of her broken yet still beating heart, the only stirring her felt was within his chest as it broke for her. They’ve both been hurt, damaged, and yet they’re still capable of having all of this love for the people around them.

And he’s capable of having love for Emma.

While he’ll likely never know for sure since there’s no one to ask about this (he’d like to speak to the manager, thank you very much), he thinks that’s what’s made the arousal stop, what’s made them be able to speak to each other without the uncomfortable awkward twinge of pain and desperation. He’s heard of soulmate signs changing over time once two people have found each other. Elsa and Liam only rarely hear each other’s thoughts now that they’re together, Will can no longer see Belle’s fingerprints on objects he’s touched, and he no longer feels uncontrollable arousal for Emma. Of course, he’s still incredibly attracted to her, most likely more than he was at the beginning because of the emotions involved, but he’s almost giddy at the fact that maybe one day he’ll be able to sit on the couch eating take out with Emma, the two of them talking about their days, and then not wanting to sleep with each other right then and there.

A normal spark, really. A normal attraction. Sure, they could decide to screw talking about their days and screw instead, but it wouldn’t be something that they absolutely have to do.

He never thought there would be a day where he’s excited about not being desperate to sleep with the woman he loves, but that seems to be happening.

Not that he doesn’t want to sleep with her.

Because he does.

A lot.

This is confusing to explain even to himself. How can he possibly say that he’s incredibly attracted to Emma while also not being incredibly attracted to her?

It seems nearly impossible, and all he can hope is that Emma feels the same way for more reasons than he can even begin to count. Liam seems to think so from the few conversations they’ve had about the whole situation, and Killian knows that he has to work up the courage to talk to Emma about it all and see exactly what’s going on in that head of hers.

Killian: I looked damn good in that bathrobe.

Emma: I don’t believe it.

Killian: Maybe you’ll have to see it one day.

Emma: Yeah, maybe. I’ll have to buy some bleach before that, though.

Killian: To make sure my robe stays spotless?

Emma: We can go with that if it makes you feel better.

Killian: It does. And at least I know that my undergarments all match.

Emma: You have got to let that joke go. It’s not even a good one.

Emma: And you’ll still never know the answer. All you get to see are the socks.

Killian: I like the mismatched socks. They’re charming.

He’s not sure how long he stays up texting Emma, never putting his phone down or away with the speed of her messaging him back. All he knows is that he wakes up with his phone on his chest and several unread messages from her, most of them strange gifs of people sleeping, and he spends far too long trying to find something to send back to her.

He would say he is too old for things like this, but then that would make him feel much older than he actually is.

(He almost says that he’s hip, but that would basically be him digging his own grave.)

Getting out of bed, he reaches up to pull the chain on the fan to turn it off before heading into his bathroom to get ready for the day. It’s chilly enough in his apartment for him to not want to strip out of his clothes, but once he’s in the shower, the warm water spraying down on him, he doesn’t want to leave. Why does this always happen?

But he can’t wither away in his shower. That would be a horrible way to die (as would freezing to death, but he has to consider his options), so he steps out of the shower and quickly gets dressed before going through his morning routine, the one cup of coffee not nearly enough for him, especially as Liam keeps texting to badger him about missing their run this morning.

It’s too cold, he’s too tired, and he doesn’t want to do it.

He’ll get up for it all tomorrow.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Not definitely. He needs that adrenaline rush and that feeling of his body accomplishing something, especially lately.

It’s a quick trip to the office, especially since he drives instead of walking to stay out of the cold, and when he opens the front doors, Ariel is already sitting behind her desk in front of his office with her hair pulled up into a bun and her glasses perched on her nose…that means she had an awful night’s sleep, and he needs to either steer clear of her or offer to take her to lunch. The kicker is that he never knows which one, and he’s taking a gamble on how she’s going to react.

He’s got about a forty percent success rate, which isn’t great.

“Morning, A.”

“Morning,” she yawns, covering her mouth with her hands before resting her hands on her stomach, her belly taking up most of the space behind the desk. She’s two weeks away from her due date, and as much as he’s told her she can start her maternity leave, she’s refused. Stubborn lass. “You look like shit.”

“I do so love when women tell me that.”

“I try to make you feel as confident about yourself as possible.”

“You succeed,” he laughs, pressing his elbows down on her desk as they talk, his fingers fumbling with the chain around his neck. “If you’re too tired, you can go home. You know that, right?”

She waves him away, rubbing her stomach once more before adjusting her glasses. “I can work. I like to work, and it’s much more entertaining to spend my day talking to you when I’d be by myself at home.”

“This is true. I am a damn good time.”

“You’re an okay time. Don’t let that head get too big.”

He winks. “I won’t. But you, Mrs. Fisher, are going to go to lunch with me today, and then you’re going to go home and take a nap.” She opens her mouth, and he holds up his hand. “No exceptions. I know you’re not sleeping well, and I also know that you are going to Will and Belle’s engagement party tonight at their new place. There’s no way you’re making it through that with how tired you are today.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at her, figuring he’s pushing in the right direction if she’s not too mad at him yet. Offering lunch was obviously the right idea. Ariel sighs, rolling back in her chair as another yawn hits her. “Fine. I will go home and take a nap, so you’re not allowed to do anything interesting without me. Got it?”

“I promise.”

Unsurprisingly, nothing interesting happens. October is far from their busy season, even if they do get a few requests for upkeep and maintenance on vessels for the holiday season, so he mostly twiddles his thumbs and rummages through his desk, organizing already organized files and pens all the while he lets his phone play music from his desk so he doesn’t actually die of boredom. Liam seems to have the same issue, continuously finding reasons to walk down the hall and pop his head into Killian’s office for no reason other than to tell a story about Luis and Luca or ask if he wants to come over for dinner sometime next week.

It’s simply one of those days where it feels like it’s never going to end, and when four o’clock rolls around, hours before their office technically closes, Liam walks through his door and sits down on his couch, the leather creaking underneath him as he completely lays down and folds his arms over his chest.

“If I complain about how bored I am today, that inevitably means that Monday will be the craziest day of our entire professional lives, right?”

“Navy included?”

“Hell no. That’s an entirely different category.”

“Then yeah,” Killian laughs, rolling back in his chair and moving his legs up to prop his feet on the corner of his desk where his jacket is about to fall to the ground, “I’d say it’s best not to complain. But, you know, if you did want to shut the place down and let everyone go early, I don’t think anyone would argue that.”

“But then what would we do with our day?”

“You’re a workaholic.”

“I’m kidding, you wanker. Obviously, I’m going to go see the kids since Elsa and I are leaving them to go to the engagement thing tonight. That’s pretty much an entire day without us.”

“It’s probably the best day of their lives.”

“Asshole.”

Killian chuckles and rolls his eyes. Liam can be so dramatic, but then again, that’s likely a family trait.

(Definitely a family trait.)

“You talked to Emma lately?”

He nearly stumbles out of his chair, but he manages to keep himself stable, glad that his computer partially blocks his face since he can feel the heat reach the tip of his ears.

“Yes,” he slowly answers, not sure where Liam is going with this.

“That’s good.”

“I mean, yeah, I think so.”

“Still got that tiny, little boner problem?”

“You’re asking me so that you can make a joke about me having a small dick, aren’t you?”

“Glad to see you catch on quick, little brother.”

“I’d say you’re the biggest dick around, but that would be entirely untrue.”

Liam barks out a laugh, one that reverberates throughout the room, before sitting up on the couch so that he’s propped up by his elbows. “So should we call it quits for the day? Let everyone have a better Friday?”

“Yeah, we should. I’ve heard this rumor that one of the bosses is an asshole.”

“I heard that rumor about you too.”

Since they shut down the office early and Killian already has Belle and Will’s gift wrapped in his car, he takes the extra hour to run to the bank and deposit a few checks as well as picking up a few of his suits from the dry cleaner, hanging them on the hook in the backseat of his jeep. He’s not surprised by the lack of things he has to do, and like any smart person when they’re bored, he parks in front of Granny’s and heads inside to grab something to eat.

Eating while bored: a great idea!

The early dinner rush has already started to fill in, everyone settling down into booths and tables with their jackets hanging off the back, but he doesn’t bother to take his leather jacket off before sitting down at a barstool and ordering a lobster roll and some fries as well as a cup of coffee, his lack of sleep finally starting to hit him. He hopes that Ariel got her nap today. He probably should have texted her and asked.

“You know, Jones,” Ruby sighs when she hands him his coffee, “coming in here before five doesn’t mean that I can give you the senior discount.”

“You’re the funniest person in town. You know that?”

“I did, actually. I also have the best hair.”

“And the most confidence.”

“Exactly.” He rolls his eyes at the same time that she winks. He’s not sure if starting to frequent Granny’s Diner in the past few months is a good thing or a bad thing. That seems pretty consistent for a lot of things in his life. “Do you know if we’re supposed to bring food tonight? Or just, like, the housewarming gift? Because I can easily swipe a pie from here.”

“And you’ll pay for it,” Granny shouts from behind the counter back in the kitchen. “You don’t get freebies.”

“Your grandmother is a tough lass.”

“Very stingy about her pies as well.”

“Well, love, all you’re supposed to bring is the gift, but I wouldn’t pass up the pie, especially if it’s a blueberry one.”

“I prefer cherry.”

He turns on the stool to see Emma standing behind him, her shoulders shrugging out of her red leather jacket so that she’s left standing in a fitted black shirt with her jeans and heeled boots, golden hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves. She looks as beautiful as she always does, and he feels his groin begin to stir in a way that he knows has nothing to do with the three words that she said.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi.” She smiles at him, a soft curve of her lips, before taking the three steps closer and running her hand over his shoulder, sparks working their way through his clothes until he can feel them lighting up his skin, covering him in the warmth that’s not present outside. “You trying to get the senior discount? Ruby never gives it to anyone.”

Ruby groans, shaking her head. “You have to be old to get it. Like, your boobs and a bunch of other things need to be saggy and wrinkly and – ”

“Rubes, please shut up. People are eating, and that’s, like one hundred percent insulting.”

“Just saying the truth. You want your usual?”

“Just a hot chocolate.”

“Gotcha.”

Emma reaches over to his plate and takes two of his fries, dipping them in his ketchup, and when he raises a brow in question, she simply shrugs, her lips curling into a smile. So she doesn’t order her own food, but she steals his. Good to know.

There are so many things to still learn about this woman.

“So can I report you stealing my fries as a crime?”

“You could, but that would be a waste of my time. Too much paperwork.”

“I thought you all got the computerized system?”

“Whatever.” She reaches over to take another fry with absolutely no shame. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I could ask the same to you.”

Emma still doesn’t say much, simply eating his fries and taking a sip of her hot chocolate when Ruby brings it to her, and he takes the time to try to study her, to see if maybe she’s not as affected by his voice as she used to be. Of course, there’s no obvious sign like there would be with him, but he checks to see if her cheeks are flushed or if her pupils are dilated, all the little things he’s learned to notice in a woman. She’s not showing any signs, none at all, and he honestly can’t decide if that’s good news or truly horrible news.

Seriously.

What does it mean if Emma is not ridiculously attracted to him?

Does it mean that she loves him as well? Could it?

Or has she become an expert at hiding everything since they met each other over seven months ago?

“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to drill a hole in my head.”

He chuckles even as his hand reaches up to scratch behind his ear, his stomach twisting and his heart beating more quickly now that he’s been caught red-handed. “I can’t help that such a beautiful woman is sitting next to me.”

Emma’s eyes roll, as he expects them to, but he also sees her cheeks pink. “Flirt.”

“I try. Did you buy those mixing bowls to fill your now empty apartment?”

“I also got a new chair, which is going to be the only furniture in Belle’s old bedroom.”

He hums in response before twisting in his chair and picking up his sandwich to take a bite, figuring if he doesn’t, Emma’s going to eat it before he ever gets a chance to. Emma ends up ordering a side of onion rings, his fries obviously not enough for her, and they stay sitting on the stools talking to each other and Ruby for the next hour until Emma points out that Sean and Ashley just walked into Belle and Will’s new apartment. He pays for both of their meals before helping Emma into her jacket, the two of them telling Ruby they’ll see her later before grabbing his present out of his jeep and walking across the street to the apartment building, the sound of everyone’s voices already filling the stairway.

It’s obvious why when they get to the second floor and see that the front door is open, music streaming from inside and several people already milling around. For as many people are in this town, their friend group is tight knit, especially since he met Emma and Ruby, and there’s not a single person who he doesn’t know or who he has to make awkward conversation with as people begin to slowly arrive, most everyone still in the clothes they wore to work. He’s simply glad that he wore jeans today instead of one of his suits.

“You want a beer?” Will asks him as he sits down next to him on the couch, the leather one he recognizes from Will’s old place, and holds out a bottle.

“No thanks. You have the worst taste in beer.”

“Oi, that’s not true.”

“It is,” Ariel teases from her spot in the recliner.

He doesn’t think she’s going to move from there all night, like she’s terrified that someone is going to steal the chair and not let her sit back down. That’s a ridiculous thought since every soul in here would let her have a seat, but he doesn’t blame her. Everyone here seems to be pretty stuck where they are. Liam and Elsa are sitting at the kitchen table with David and Mary Margaret, the four of them munching on the tray of cheese and crackers, and Emma is standing against the kitchen counters with a glass of wine talking to Ashley, Sean, and Ruby. Robin, Regina, Victor, and Arthur keep moving between the entryway and the kitchen, going back for food, but mostly everyone is stuck in their little conversations, even if people occasionally move around.

“Where’s Eric?” Belle wonders.

“It’s Friday night. He’s working, so the closest thing I have to a husband tonight is Killian.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?”

Ariel waves him away and adjusts in the chair, her face grimacing. He can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be to be pregnant…and he does not want to imagine that. Not at all.

“You look the most like him, and I spend nearly as much time with you as I do with him. You’re obviously not my husband. Thank goodness for that.”

“Hey,” he scoffs, kind of wishing that he’d accepted that beer, but he now sees that it’s gone to Belle, “you don’t have to be rude about it. I would be a fantastic husband.”

“You’d have to date for that to happen.”

He cuts his eyes at Will at the same time that he sees Belle look away, the slightest bit of color appearing on her cheeks. He’s got no idea what that’s about, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s about Emma.

Does she know?

“You’re all hilarious.”

“Oof,” Emma grunts, sitting on the arm of the couch next to him so that her hip knocks into his shoulder, “are we making fun of Killian? I want to join in.”

“We’re talking about his lack of dating life,” Belle explains as her voice squeaks toward the end.

“Ah, yes,” Emma sighs. She leans back and puts her arm across the back of the couch so that her fingers tap against his shoulder, the rhythm random. “Our old spinster Jones. Whatever shall we do with him?”

He flicks her jeans at her thigh, and she pinches him in response. The height of maturity.

“You’re all assholes. I’m simply here trying to celebrate my mate getting engaged to the love of his life, and here I am being teased. None of you have any humanity.”

“You’ll be okay,” Emma mock soothes, and when he looks up at her, she’s absolutely smirking down at her with the soft pink lips that he desperately needs to feel against him again. He’s not actually irritated, not really, but the entire reason he’s not going on dates and openly being in love is Emma Swan, one of the people messing with him. It’s damn obnoxious, and it’s taking everything in him not to mess with her in front of everyone right now. “You’re a handsome man. Love will find you.”

A remark is at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it and says something else. “Swan, if you keep calling a man handsome, he might get ideas.”

“Well, like I’ve said, it’s always a bad idea when you start thinking.”

“I thought the two of you hated each other?” Will questions, circling his hand around as his beer swishes in the bottom of his bottle. “When did this happen?”

“Why would they hate each other?” Ariel seems so genuinely confused by the thought of the two of them ever disliking each other, and he can’t help but chuckle. “They’re always together. I thought they were sleeping with each other at one point.”

“E-excuse me?” he coughs, choking on air and leaning forward as Emma pats his back, which really only makes him cough more. “What?”

“I mean, I knew the two of you weren’t dating because neither of you are big daters. But then you were spending all of that time together, suddenly you were happier at work, Emma was happier when we went to lunch. I figured you were both just getting laid.”

“Oh my God, no,” Emma groans, and he would be insulted by the horror in her voice if he hadn’t just sounded the same way. “We are not sleeping together.”

“Stop talking about my brother’s sex life,” Liam yells from across the room.

“There’s apparently no sex life to be talked about,” Will shouts back, and he wonders, not for the first time, if he could sink into the couch.

Luckily, the conversation moves on, more specifically to Will and Belle, the actual reasons they’re there tonight, and Emma doesn’t seem too put off by the fact that they were teased like that. He doesn’t know what that means, another mixed signal from her, and his stomach can’t seem to decide if it thinks that’s a good sign or an awful one. His heart, however, has definitely decided to speed up to levels that can’t be healthy.

That all definitely comes from being around Emma, and he hopes that her little superpower in hearing has disappeared like his has, because he does not want her to hear the blood that is furiously pumping through their veins.

As the night wears on, toasts are made and presents are opened with lots of talk about the wedding next summer and the vacation that Will and Belle have cancelled so that they can go on a honeymoon instead. It’s a nice, relaxing evening, and he hates to leave the warmth of the apartment to go outside when people start trickling out of the apartment and down the stairs. Ariel has her arm looped into his elbow as they walk out, her pace a little slower so that the two of them and Emma, Elsa, and Liam drag behind the others on the walks back to their cars.

“Does anyone here need a ride home?”

“I only had the one glass of wine,” Liam supplies.

“Same. Though I won’t say no to a ride. I walked to work this morning and am not feeling the walk home tonight.”

“No problem, love,” he smiles, glad that she’s accepting his help. “Elsa, I trust you can get home with your husband?”

“If he lets me.”

Elsa affectionately pats Liam’s chest before pressing up on her toes to kiss his cheek, and he smiles at them before continuing to walk forward only to stop when he notices that Ariel is no longer walking, her feet firmly planted on the ground.

“A? You okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, grunting in response.

“Ariel,” Emma worries, stepping in front of the two of them to look at Ariel. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

She nods her head up and down, her jaw visibly clenched, and suddenly the chill outside seems to worsen, the wind blowing through and whistling between the buildings as street lights illuminate their paths.

“It’s…I…” Ariel is stuttering, her words strained, and when his eyes meet Emma’s, they’re full of worry. “I could be wrong, but I’ve been in a bit of pain all day. I – ah fuck, I think I might be in labor.”

[webcricket]

Winter’s Eye

Pairing: AU!CastielXReader Word Count: 1510 (Ch. VI) Story Summary: Season 13 canon tells you how AU!Castiel’s story ends, this is how it begins. The deranged and damaged iteration of Castiel we met in the apocalypse universe - an obedient soldier to Michael’s cause barely in control of his vessel’s frayed and erratically firing nerves whose inherent kindness toward humankind appeared entirely obliterated - wasn’t always an unfeeling angelic weapon of interrogation. Once, he sympathized with the plight of humans; one, he loved. Outlined for 10 chapters. Chapter Summary: Castiel makes a fateful concession to your wishes - one which sets the tragic end of a love barely begun into motion.

Series Masterlist

VI.

“What are you doing?”

Castiel’s gruff voice grabs your attention from the task of tightly lacing a pair of men’s hiking boots you dug out of the cabin’s catch-all closet that are not unworkably big, but also not quite a comfy fit, to the querying slant of blues looming above where you’ve plopped yourself unceremoniously in the middle of the floor amid several mismatched moth-eaten woolen socks, also pilfered from the closet and meant to bulk up the smallish size of your feet.

“Going with you.” Shrugging, you look back down without waiting to witness his reaction and yank at the left lace so hard you grunt at the exertion. Sticking out your foot to rotate mid-air, you test the balance of flexibility and firmness of the fit; satisfied, you lash the surplus of lace thrice round your ankle before tying a double knot.

He says nothing; he doesn’t have to, the weight of silence speaks as to his disapproval of the idea.

You expected as much which is the reason you waited until the very last moment to spring the plan on him lest he change up his regimental routine in order to sneak off before you could follow.

In the margins of your sight you watch his gloved hands wad into loose fists - a reflexive clutch at some unspoken argument against your joining him on a supply run slipping from his grasp. Supplies you think it only fair you assist in obtaining seeing as, because angels don’t eat, they’re solely for your sustenance.

He knows you fully capable of waging an extended war without words, and that such a skirmish leads to a stalemate. He also knows the hours of daylight are limited, and even for an angelic being and all his advantage of power and advanced perception, traveling the woods by light, rather than night, means less risk of running into obstacles.

Apocalypse, or no, those abominations born of the dark persist in their favor of dark habits much as this particular angel prefers to walk in the light.

He remarks in a slowly cadenced matter-of-fact mutter - not a straight admonishment, but a deeply measured urge for you to reconsider - his opinion on your proposal. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why not?” Without peering up to acknowledge his worry, you shift to work to securing the right lace. You don’t allow time for him to expound, blithely adding, “What? You afraid if you teach me to fish I won’t need you around anymore?”

The bit about being needed strikes him mute, unsteadies the readied retort poised on his tongue regarding the dubious safety of a 15-mile trek through woods into the outskirts of a town whose previous inhabitants were mutilated by wolves of the mutated ‘Were-‘ kind.

The fact is, he needs you, needs the sense purpose you provide, and it’s become clear to him your ability to survive depends less and less on his contributions to domesticity with each passing day. So yeah, a piece of him - the shadow of doubt dimming both the inner radiance of divine grace and his gaze – gives in to a paralytic pause as a terror of losing whatever this is seizes him in stillness.

You glance up to see him go rigid; a twang of guilt tickles your conscience.

You keep forgetting he doesn’t get sarcasm. The other night, while regaling you with the real dung-heavy story behind the Tower of Babel, you’d told him, in a fit of disbelief, to ‘Get out!’ and he actually stood up to leave.

More than forgetting he fails to grasp the often multi-layered nuances of conversation - and more and more - you forget he’s an angel. His divinity exists somewhere separate from his daily kindnesses toward you, how he manages to make you smile without meaning to, and how the cabin feels warmer with him in it in a manner that has nothing at all to do with the timber he fells for the fire; to you, he’s become just Cas.

The thought paints your cheeks faintly pink and you swipe the sensation from your skin with a blanching press of your fingertips.

“Relax. It’s a joke, Castiel.” Planting a palm to the pine planks you push to a standing position. “You know, the biblical proverb. ‘If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.’”

His blues narrow. “That’s not a proverb.”

“Really?”

He doesn’t deign to respond to your doubt as to his scriptural knowledge. Moving only his eyes, he glances over your shoulder out at the brightening sky beyond the window; its brilliance amplifies in reflection off the fresh blanket of white laid upon the land overnight; the purity of it is deceiving, and time is wasting. “You would be out in the open. Exposed. It might not be safe.”

“What I’m hearing is there’s an equal chance then it might be perfectly safe. And how exposed can I be with an angel at my back? I’m going with. If I have to spend one more day staring at these log walls and your frowny face-” however handsome that pout happens to be, your brain embellishes the complaint- “I’m gonna go stir crazy.”

“I don’t frown.” The expression he insists isn’t a frown quavers at the accusation and digs deeper into the lines trenching his mouth.

A snort of laughter flares your nostrils. “Well you don’t smile either. Like, ever.” Brushing past him, you grab your coat from the hook mounted beside the door and shove an arm into the Sherpa-lined sleeve. Spinning to see what’s taking him so long to join you at the door, you stop the upsurge of a chortle climbing your throat at the affected smile baring his clamped teeth.

“What-” you cover the smirk fracturing your face with the back of your hand- “what are you doing?”

“Smiling,” he says without wavering from what looks more like a wince than joy.

“Don’t … just, stop. You look like you’re in pain.”

Chin cocking sideways, the feint at gladness fades from his features. “You said-”

“Look-” you move a step nearer, extending a reassuring touch and shyly withdrawing before the fingertips make contact with his coat lapels- “a smile is more than a collection of muscle movements - it’s a feeling. You can’t force it, Cas.”

Cas.

You catch each other’s stunned regard over the abbreviation of his name hanging in the space between you and quickly avert your eyes.

Your blush renews at the relinquishment of the privately cultivated sentimentality shown in the affectionate shortening whose meaning you haven’t entirely explored in your mind.

He likes the sound of it, soft and sweet like the honeysuckle scent carried on a summer breeze and the gentle buzz of a bee balancing on the petals of a flower to drink of its nectar; he feels the nickname - the familiarity and fondness it bears - twitch and tug at the fibrous set of his frown to loosen some of the gravity of experience sunk there.

Inhaling a shallow breath, you dare to peer up into the bright blue enamel of his eyes, appreciating immediately the tempering effect on him of the endearment you hadn’t meant to speak aloud but which spilled from your lips as naturally as the first rays of the sun splinter the horizon of a new morn.

You figure, why not wield it to your advantage … just this once. “C’mon, Cas.” You stretch the vowel out in a persuasive purr. “We better get going.”

It slackens, too, his resolve against the scheme.

A scream of ‘Stop!’ pounds dumbly at his perception through the unchangeable span of time into the deafened recesses of remembrance - the desperate warning shouts in his own voice over the wet whine of a drill bit biting into flesh and memory.

He watches through a stained-glass blur of stinging red ooze the vision of the cabin door swinging open and the spin of a bleached world beyond churning you and his heart together out into the void; a groaned plea rumbles his ribs, yet the caution fails to pierce his past awareness.

Tears blend blindingly with the steady steep of blood breaching his lashes.

This is where it all went wrong. This is where he failed. This is where he forfeited himself for a fleeting taste of a happiness meant for humanity alone and put you and every other soul still walking the Earth – souls he swore to protect - in peril.

He shouts again to no avail.

Naomi switches off the drill; she steps back, gratified hum in her throat, to admire her handiwork of emotional excavation. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She gestures at another angel standing sentinel in the hall of Heaven’s interrogation center. “Return him to his cell. Then inform Michael I’ve found Castiel’s weak point. It won’t be long before he reveals the location of the resistance and we can put them down permanently.”

Next Chapter: VII

[xoruffitup]

AITAF’s 11th Annual Broadway Show

It’s surreal that this was my second year attending and I’m sitting here typing up a second recap! It hardly feels like a whole year has passed since last November, as the time has been so full of Adam and SW-related joy. After last night’s show, Sarah (the same friend I adventured to TIFF with) and I reflected that following/loving Adam has brought us so many extraordinary experiences we would never have sought out otherwise. Attending military-oriented events and creating stronger ties with the veterans and service members in each of our lives, traveling to Toronto (and shortly to London!!) together, and cultivating the most unlikely and incredible friendships. It’s been an eye-opening, whirlwind year of new and wonderful experiences - chief among which was sitting in a theatre largely full of military personnel and having each of my preconceived stereotypes challenged.

The group I gathered with outside the American Airlines theatre was even bigger than last year. We had my friends Sarah and MP ( @reylonly​), my dad who usually abhors the “veteran” label and yet - to his own surprise - confessed to being deeply moved by last year’s show, a retired Army nurse and her husband, a cousin I hadn’t seen in ages who’s currently enlisted, and her two friends from the army. Our sizable group was first to queue up outside the theatre, with more than plenty to talk and catch up about while we waited.

(Fun/Amusing Fact: That enlisted cousin I hadn’t seen in ages? We reconnected ahead of this show when she messaged me on Facebook: “Hi! I heard from X family member that you like Adam Driver. I’ve attended AITAF performances before and I’ll be going to their NYC event, if you’d like to come as one of my guests?” Yes, that is my rep spreading through the family and you bet I’m proud. :’’))

We thought we had an idea what to expect from last year, but this year’s show surprised and took us off guard in almost every way.

After entering the theatre and passing right by Joanne (looking hella fierce in a fitted tweed suit), we headed up to the reception. Here came a surprise I was personally AMPED about!! While MP, Sarah, and I waited to go in the photo booth they had, we saw Scott Burns and Daniel Jones come into the reception area! I explained a bit in my TIFF recap post about how The Report (aside from being just a stellar film) really engaged me personally because not only do I have a human rights-related job, but the Executive Director of my non-profit is also renowned for being one of the first high-ranking whistleblowers against the CIA torture program when he previously worked in the Department of Defense. His name is Alberto Mora and after I heard Scott Burns namecheck him in several interviews, I talked to Alberto about his involvement in the film. From that conversation with Alberto came the idea to arrange a staff screening of the film, given its relevance to our nonprofit’s mission. In addition to seeing the film at TIFF, I also had the chance through work to attend the DC premiere of the film last week, attended by human rights advocates, House Representatives, and Senators (most depicted in the film - including Diane Feinstein herself!) who were all clearly riveted by the film and the discussion with Scott Burns and Dan Jones that followed. SO (sorry for this digression but I’M STILL SO EXCITED BY THIS) when I saw Dan Jones mingling, I practically started vibrating with everything I wanted to say to him.

After psyching myself up and angsting with MP for a minute (“But it’s gotta be the right time - I don’t want to interrupt him!”) I went over and introduced myself to Dan Jones, saying I’d been at the DC premiere of the film last week and how powerful the evening had been. Long story short - omg what a chill and approachable guy to talk to! I explained quickly that I work with Alberto and I’ve been looking into arranging a screening, to which Dan said he’d “absolutely love” to help with! He told me how to contact him and holy shiiiit now this definitely has to happen!!

So after that reception highlight, we ate a little more cheese and fancy crackers before heading downstairs to the theater and our seats. And there we needed to hold onto our hats and strain to remain chill, because like some Adam-related VIP guest list, we brushed shoulders with Noah Baumbach and Laura Dern as we entered the theater! WHATTT!! It certainly made my heart glad to see so many of these high-profile collaborators of Adam’s supporting him and taking an interest in his non-profit work. And just to see that they’re all friends even off set!

This year’s choice of play, A Raisin In The Sun, immediately set a much different tone than last year’s True West. While last year included a cast of only 4, with Adam and Michael Shannon lifting the majority of the performance as the brothers-at-odds Lee and Austin; this year included a cast of 9 almost exclusively African American actors, who would share the stage in a rotating balance. But before anything else... the show began with AITAF’s Director giving a rundown of their recent and upcoming programming, before she introduced Adam to speak. Annnnd out onto the stage he strode in a black suit and tie (pushing the boundaries of fashion for real) looking so striking and handsome my brain and heart jumped into an overdrive race with each other alsdfjslfjalsdfj :’)))) (Yes, the first moment when I see him in person still makes my heart fly up into my throat.) Most of the audience tried to leap to their feet to give him a standing ovation, before Adam quickly made some slightly panicked abortive hand gestures and everyone sat back down. We were seated so close to the stage that that proximity was really the best kind of intense <3333

First of all, I want to assure everyone that our bb does look like he’s gained some weight back. I think his face looked a bit more filled out than at TIFF (and boy did he fill out that suit just right). Adam recognized all of the active service people and veterans in the audience, thanked the actors and AITAF staff for making the evening possible, and gave his background speech on AITAF’s purpose, journey, and mission. He also spoke a bit about the play that was selected this year, quickly adding “I’ll let the play speak for itself rather than butchering it with my interpretation.” Everyone laughed and my heart was only barely beating under the adoration because at the same time I was getting such a good look at just how big he is, being so close... Not only the height, but the shoulders in the suit and the giant hands that fly around when he’s talking, then he stuffed his hands into his pockets for part of his speech and that just made him look taller and more attractive and alsdkfjalskdjf sir you should really take my health into consideration a little bit!!! ;___;

Fangirl feels meltdowns aside, there were a lot of other beautiful things happening on that stage. It was stirring to listen to Adam introduce the cast (and pronounce all of their names correctly, thank you) with all the deference this play deserves and a cast to do it full justice. In a setting where the audience was largely comprised of a military demographic that is often considered to embody more conservative values, it was poignant to see Adam using his platform in AITAF to push the narratives further and confront the audience directly - not with what separates people, but to draw out the humanity that makes us all so very alike. That is, after all, AITAF’s guiding mission. 

Skipping ahead for a quick moment - one of the actors in the talk-back after the performance brought up how difficult it had been to fund this play when it was first produced in 1959 because investors feared it was “too black” and wouldn’t resonate with audiences. Last night was the most blatant demonstration of how close-minded such fears were, as the almost three-hour long reading kept the audience entirely enthralled, caught up in the humor and the heartbreak and the enduring human spirit that keeps the Younger family’s pride and love for each other in tact; then followed by audience members standing up to share deeply personal and candid accounts of how they saw their own struggles with searching for identity and purpose between military-civilian spheres, and their own experiences of trauma reflected in these complex, lively characters. 

As much as I so enjoyed internally flipped my shit completely getting to hear Adam speak in person at the beginning, it made me more proud than ever to love him as I do when I watched him step back and pass the stage and spotlight to an insanely talented cast of color. AITAF is a force and space that aims for all voices to be heard, and Adam appeared only just enough to underscore and enable that last night.

I hope I’ve already made the point that the cast were simply phenomenal. This year’s performance felt completely different than last year’s in terms of the energy and mood. Last year, Adam and Michael Shannon filled two hours with simmering frustration and aggression that grows increasingly outrageous until it culminates in violence. Adam and Michael moved freely around the stage a lot. I’ll never forget Adam doing handstands, collapsing to his knees right at the front of the stage and his lush long hair falling everywhere (UGH <3), Adam yelling about toast and stealing TVs, barking like a coyote, and finally choking Michael in the final scene. This year, the 9-person-strong cast barely moved from behind their script stands, and yet the emotional impact they delivered was simply stunning. The immediacy of this reading-style performance is just incomparable. I do see a lot of theatre and really enjoy the medium, but watching actors like last night’s cast put on a performance that’s completely uninhibited - completely instinctive and raw - was simply unforgettable. It cuts straight to the emotional core and deepest layer of meaning within the material and the characters. There is nothing between the audience and the existence of these characters’ lives, and the actors lost themselves in the roles completely. It was simply breathtaking to watch, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunity to witness it. Falling in to the Adam bandwagon truly enriched my life in ways I could never have expected

While on the topic of things I couldn’t have expected: Chief among them would be (to be painfully honest) voluntarily attending an event geared for military audiences - and even less enjoying and feeling moved by every second of it. I should probably clarify that although my Dad is a National Guard vet, he rarely speaks about the experience because he was drafted straight out of high school. The memories aren’t easy for him when he knows how close he could have been to being sent to Vietnam; alongside (he admitted to me for the first time following last year’s AITAF show) some amount of guilt towards the friends who were sent and lost their lives. My Dad has never embraced the veteran identity - he felt neither a right nor an affinity to it - and a military settings isn’t one I ever pictured myself feeling comfortable in. And yet, a single AITAF performance was enough to achieve their goal in my heart of building bridges and highlighting commonalities between military and civilian spheres. The military identify is multifaceted, and attending last year’s performance was enough for my Dad to unlock some new acceptance or understanding of that aspect of his own identity. It seemed to let him think of that period in his life in ways beyond antipathy or guilt. It was at least enough for him to open up and speak more candidly to me about his experience than ever before. 

This year’s Q&A was moving, deeply personal, and at times painful. And yet there was truly no better showcase for how a shared experience of theatre can serve to knock down all barriers that might have existed between people when they entered that theatre only hours before.

Highlights:

A man who recently ended his service spoke about how much he connected to the character of Walter Lee in the play. Like Walter, he too feels restless and unfulfilled in his (civilian) job, always feeling like he should be striking out for something more meaningful, something bigger, and never feeling right in his current place. For the audience member, this resonated with his own struggle to find meaning in his civilian life as he navigates the transition of leaving the military. This moved the actor who played Walter Lee (Colman Domingo, who had been TERRIFIC - I mean full-on crying several times throughout the reading) to speak about the personal inspirations and experiences he brought to embodying the character for this setting. Namely, trying to support his veteran older brother’s struggle with drug addiction. As Colman spoke candidly about how the experience with his brother had seeped into his performance, at least two other cast members dabbed tears from their eyes.

The most emotionally difficult and yet moving moment shared throughout the whole theater. A man in the balcony asked for advice on finishing a play that he began writing as a means of trying to process and work through unresolved trauma he experienced in combat zones while deployed. He explained with something of a despairing tremble in his voice that he’s reached a point where he feels emotionally blocked - where confronting the memories of comrades dying in his arms simply freezes him and he can’t seem to move any further. The theater was silent as he had to pause speaking for a moment, audibly overcome for a moment in the effort of speaking and sharing this aloud. Since the speaker was up in the balcony too far back for me to see, I was watching the cast and AITAF team on stage. Being so close, I thought I saw something visibly pass over Adam’s face. Later that evening, the cousin I just reconnected with at this event was the one to bring it up unprompted when she asked, “Did you see his eyes when the man was talking about his struggle to write?” So yes, it’s confirmed, I wasn’t imagining that Adam visibly choked up for a moment listening to this audience member. After the commenter was able to finish speaking, a few cast members responded. Adam, after being silent for most of the Q&A, then held his hand out for a mic and spoke up, telling the audience member something like, “In a way, you’re already doing it. You’re already writing. You’re already processing. I don’t think anyone knows what they’re setting out to write or how it will take shape until they do. But you’re already doing the hardest part.” Then, in a touching moment of connection, another audience member spoke up about a veteran writing group he’s involved with whose members seek to do exactly the same thing. The safe space the questioner was so dearly seeking did, in fact, already exist, and the people were there in that theatre to help guide him towards it. 

I didn’t think anything could have equaled my experience at AITAF’s 10th Anniversary show last year - and yet, last night was every bit as powerful of a performance, followed by a Q&A discussion in which audience members bared revelatory vulnerabilities and saw their own struggles through the eyes of others. My group went to a late dinner afterwards, where we continued discussing the performance, the dialogues thereafter, AITAF’s work in general, and (my favorite) gendered attitudes and embedded patriarchal norms within military settings and how AITAF challenges these norms even while being forced to work within them. 

It was an evening of connections of all types - between people, experiences, and insights. I can’t laud AITAF enough for enabling such valuable and productive exchange, and I hope to experience much more of their work in the future.

(And if performed with a showcase or even a side of Adam, that would be even better! <3)

Thanks so much for reading! : ))

[sushigirlali]

Admiration - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Summary: Padawan Ben Solo struggles to repel Snoke’s odious influence while coming to terms with his feelings for fellow student Rey of Jakku.

Parings: Rey + Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Continuity: Jedi Academy AU; Rey is 19, Ben is 23. 

Rating: E

A/N: This fic is dedicated to my wifey @grlie-girl under the prompt: “Poke me once more and see what happens.” (Which...we’ll get to lol) This is a “what if” scenario where Rey has grown up with Ben at Luke’s Jedi academy. I made Ben 23 because that’s about the age he fell to the dark side in the ST. Maybe things could have gone differently if he’d had Rey at his side back then. Enjoy! Set to Admiration by Incubus.

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr 

——————

Admiration - Part I

By: sushigirlali

——————

Could you move in slow motion? Everything goes by so fast Just slow down a little Save the best part for last

——————

Ben marched out of the Jedi training center with his hood up and his head down. It was a struggle to keep his composure given the electrifying events of the last hour, but he did his best to look inconspicuous since several students were congregated in the courtyard outside. Luckily for him, they appeared too distracted by Luke’s latest lesson to pay him any mind.

“But what if you got stuck on some backwater planet during a mission and had to construct a lightsaber from scratch?!” an excited youth queried his friends. “Are synthetic crystals really suitable for Jedi?”

“Master Luke certainly thinks so!” a boy with a brown flat cap exclaimed. “He built a lightsaber with a synthetic kyber crystal on Tatooine and used it to single-handedly take out the entire Hutt Clan!”

“Single-handedly, huh?” Choking back a laugh, Ben imagined how his mother would react to the youngling’s erroneous statement. “She’d probably shrug and say something about boys needing to get their heads out of their cockpits,” he thought fondly, moving from cover to cover until he could slip behind the tall hedges that wrapped around the courtyard, “but deep down her blood would be boiling.”

“The way I heard it, Princess Leia was the one who saved the day!” a girl with fiery red hair piped up as he passed. “All because she and Han Solo were…”

The trio’s voices faded as Ben moved out of range of their conversation, not that he minded in the least. “Rey loves that story, but I’d rather not hear about the princess and the rogue for the thousandth time. They’re my parents, but I’ve never understood how two people could...” Rey’s knowing smile just before he rushed out of the training center flashed through his mind and his groin tightened in remembrance. “Never mind.”

Adjusting his stride, Ben debated the best way to get back to his room undetected. Given the state of his traitorous body, it would be beyond embarrassing to get caught before he could calm down. Stopping only when he reached the end of the hedgerow, Ben opened his senses and peered around.

The temple grounds consisted of the training hall at his back, the dining hall to his left, and the archive building across the courtyard on his right. The living quarters were stationed directly behind the dining hall, but it was likely he’d bump into someone if he went through the communal facility since it was so close to dinner time.

Deciding it would be more prudent to go around the building instead, Ben skirted past the entrance and darted down a small footpath adjacent to the building.

About halfway down the lonely path, Ben realized he was sweating profusely under his thick robes and slowed down to compensate. “Force, it’s hot,” he huffed. “When did it get so hot? It was almost chilly this morning. But now...”

Ben trailed off as he neared the end of the walkway, but his mind was racing. “I wonder if Rey and I have anything to do with the change in temperature?” It was an odd thought, but they were intrinsically intertwined through the Force. And with the Force, anything was possible.

Pushing the notion aside, Ben emerged onto the dirt road that separated the temple from the living quarters and approached his hut. The structure was slightly secluded from the rest, shaded by a few ancient trees and surrounded by a well maintained rock garden. It wasn’t much, but it was his.

Shouldering his way into the dark apartment, Ben closed and locked the door behind him before stripping out of his damp training uniform and tossing the heavy gray fabric onto the floor. Not satisfied, he shed his undergarments as well. “I’ll have to hit the ‘fresher later,” he thought, wiping ribbons of sweat from his brow.

”For now, though…” Ben moved to the silver basin on top of his bookshelf and grabbed a rag to wash his face. The damp cloth was cool against his skin, like an ocean mist on a warm summer day.

Not for the first time, he longed for the peaceful seas and mild weather of his beloved homeworld. “What I wouldn’t give to see Chandrila again,” he mused, retrieving his favorite silk trousers from the top drawer of his dresser. “To see mother and father again, even if they don’t want…” Ben paused, trying to suppress his long standing abandonment issues.

“Don’t focus on the things you cannot change,” he muttered, pulling on his pants with a little more force than necessary. The cool black fabric felt good against his skin, but he was still uncomfortably warm. “Focus on what’s in front of you, like Master Luke says. Focus on the things you can change.”

Sitting cross-legged on the end of his rumpled bed, Ben unlatched his shutters with a wave. A cool wind stirred through the window, giving him a modicum of relief from the punishing heat.

“If only the Force could solve all my problems,” he sighed, thinking of a certain hazel-eyed scavenger.

——————

You speak in riddles Your intentions turn me on I'm your's forever Will you love me when I'm gone?

——————

Laying his palms flat on his knees, Ben acknowledged that the weather wasn’t the only thing making him hot today. Rey had cornered him this afternoon on the pretense of training together, but he should have realized she was up to something the moment she suggested they meet in an isolated meditation chamber far from their Master’s watchful gaze.

“You’re too damn gullible for a Jedi,” he chastised, feeling all kinds a fool for allowing her to catch him off guard again. She was a talented Padawan, his equal in every way, but Rey seemed to want him to see her as a woman first and an apprentice second.

Unfortunately for his young admirer, physical interactions were forbidden to the Jedi, strong emotions taboo. And yet… “You just sat there like a dolt when she started kissing you.” Ben shook his head, trying to forget the sound of Rey’s soft sighs as her lips molded to his, the feeling of her small hands gripping his—

“Dammit!” he groaned aloud, scrubbing his flushed face. “You’re supposed to become a full-fledged Jedi Knight in little under a month! Besides that, there’s a very real chance that Rey will be named your Padawan for the last few years of her training! You cannot get wrapped up with her!” It was a difficult task, though, considering how good she felt in his arms.

“If Master Luke ever found out…” He shuddered to think what would become of them. At the very least, they’d be excommunicated from the New Jedi Order.

Still, it was becoming increasingly impossible to deny his admiration for the young orphan from Jakku, especially since she appeared determined to tempt him into behavior that was most decidedly against the Jedi code.

And therein lie his predicament.

Short of abandoning their Master’s teachings and leaving the Academy, there was no real way they could be together. They weren’t normal people with normal lives who could fall in love without thought to repercussions and...and...

“Wait. Love?” Ben froze at the revelation. “No,” he denied. “It’s not possible.” Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind, desperately seeking guidance. "Your focus determines your reality," he chanted, repeating one of Luke’s most important lessons. “Focus on anything but her.” 

——————

When I'm gone, You're an unfenced fire! When I'm gone, Over walls we've trampled! When I'm gone, It's you I admire! When I'm gone, My living example...

——————

Concentrating on the quiet whisper of wind filtering in through his open window, Ben leveled out his riotous emotions and slipped into a meditative state.

Life. Death. Warmth. Cold. Peace. Violence. And between it all, balance and energy. A force.

And inside him, that same force.

Reaching out with his feelings, he explored the remote rock his uncle had claimed for the Jedi. The local flora and fauna, all so familiar to him now, were soaking in the last few rays of light as the planet turned and the sun sank beneath the horizon.

Broadening his search, Ben studied the subtle movement of the massive sphere itself, noting how smooth the planet’s rotation was. The orbital speed was constant, beating a soothing tattoo inside his head.

“Almost like a heartbeat,” he thought, humbled by the complexity of the universe. There was so much he longed to explore once he became a Jedi. Planets, people, the mysterious of—

“Ouch!” Ben winced as a familiar splinter formed in his mind. “No, not now! Not again!”

Something sinister had stirred in response to his probing, calling out to him, urging him toward the black abyss of space. “Come to me, my child,” it bade. “You must fulfill your destiny!”

“No!” Recognizing the intrusion for what it was, Ben tried to lock down his consciousness using a technique he’d learned from Luke. “For better or worse, our family is well acquainted with the struggle between light and dark.”

The rumors and speculation surrounding Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala had plagued his family for years, so Ben was grateful that Luke had prevented him from being blindsided when the whole affair came to light last year.

“I'm not sure how I would have reacted had Luke withheld the truth about my grandparents from me, but with everything out in the open, Luke and I are closer than we’ve ever been.”

“He’s helped me see that I’m not the only one who struggles, that I can have faith in myself despite my failings.” And in all honesty, it was a relief to know that even after donning the evil visage of Darth Vader for so long, Anakin Skywalker’s soul had still been worthy of redemption.

“The love of his son saved him in the end. Despite everything, his Jedi spirit prevailed. The light prevailed.” The notion gave Ben hope.

A malicious cackle broke into his thoughts. “Hope? How trite. There is no hope for you, young Solo.”

“Get out of my head, you murderous snake,” he gritted back. “You’re not welcome here, Snoke. Not anymore.”

Ever since he could remember, there had been a small but persistent voice whispering in his ear, presenting him with all manner of temptations. When he was a child, it was the acceptance he longed for from his parents. As a teenager, power and glory. But just recently, the voice had become desperate, for Ben no longer wanted any of those things. He was a Jedi, like his grandfather before him, and his only goal was to serve the Force.

“Don’t lie,” Snoke said cruelly. “There is still something you covet. Or should I say...someone?”

“Leave her out of this!” Ben raged. All at once he wanted to hit something, to kill. The thought of this creature, this incubus, touching one hair on Rey’s—

“Ben?”

——————

Your eyes are an undiscovered ocean far away Any minute now keeping Both poets and priests at bay Don't get ahead of me Could we just this once see eye to eye? Could you want perhaps me? Ask me how it feels to vie

——————

Eyes flying wide, Ben turned to see Rey crawling through his open window. “Rey! What are you—?”

“Are you alright?” she asked without preamble, slipping onto the bed beside him. “I know you wanted to be alone, but I felt your fear and I—”

“Yes,” he lied. Except it wasn’t really a lie because the sinister voice had gone. Even with Luke’s exercises, the evil wretch still got in sometimes. But when he was with Rey...well, she seemed to drive off his demons.

She gently touched his damp forehead. “Were you meditating?”

“What? Oh, yes,” he said, coming back to reality. “Or, trying to,” he corrected, catching himself before he melted into her touch.

“Can I join you?”

“I don’t—” But she was already moving behind him. “Okay, then,” he sighed, half turning to look at her. “Do you actually want to mediate this time, or...?” She was facing the opposite direction, but Ben was wary of her intentions.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, copying his lotus pose.

“Really?” he replied sardonically. “I seem to recall you asking me to meditate this afternoon when in actuality you wanted—”

“Your virginity?” she filled in.

“Rey!” Ben exclaimed, astonished by her lack of tact. “You can’t say things like that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—it’s—you just can’t!” he stuttered.

Rey met his troubled gaze. “Would you rather I lie?”

“Of course not!” he denied. “Though it might be easier to ignore my feelings if you did.”

“Ben, what’s wrong?” she said plainly.

“Besides the fact that you keep trying to seduce me?”

“Besides that,” Rey agreed. Her tone was even, but he could sense her smirking behind his back.

“Nothing, I just…” How did one confess that a mad man was trying to break into one’s mind at every given opportunity?

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she said quietly. “Snoke.”

“Yes.” It was uncanny, the way Rey always seemed to know what was troubling him before he could find the words.

“Not uncanny,” she returned, easily reading his unguarded thoughts. “It’s fate.”

Ben’s shoulders tensed. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said confidently. “Now tell me about Snoke.”

Knowing how protective she was, he tried to play it off. “It was nothing. The usual.”

“There’s nothing usual about an evil wizard trying to sway you to the dark side, Ben,” she countered. “Try again.”

“Really, Rey? What are you? My mother?” he grumbled. “Why did I even tell you about him to begin with?”

“Because you trust me.” She leaned back against him to prove her point and, damn her, the contact calmed his frayed nerves like a spiritual balm. “Now stop kriffing around and tell me the truth.”

Put that way… “He’s become weak in the last few years, desperate. But that only makes him more dangerous, not less, and I’m afraid…”

She rested her head on his shoulder, further improving his sense of being. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid he’ll hurt you to get to me,” he admitted. It was a revealing statement, but he owed her the truth. Rey’s life was on the line as much as his own now.

“So, he knows how we feel about each other,” she said matter-of-factly. Rey sounded less concerned than he’d expected, but she was like that.

“I’m like what?” she asked playfully.

“Brave—and annoying,” he informed her. Ben reached up and tugged on one of her looping buns. “Also, stop reading my thoughts. It’s rude.”

“Stop shouting them at me then,” she snorted. “Our bond goes both ways, Ben. If you really want to shut me out—”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said haltingly. “I just have a hard time keeping my head on straight when you ambush me like you did in the training hall.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I’m blaming you for Snoke!” he went on hurriedly. “You’ve always been there for me, Rey. You mean everything to me.”

“Really?” She searched for his hand.

“Yeah.” He let her take it.

“Ben?” she started seriously, lacing her fingers through his.

“Yes?”

“What happened this afternoon. What’s been happening between us for a while…” She drew in a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you must allow me to tell you how—

“Don’t.”

“But, I—”

“You can’t,” he interrupted again. “We’re Jedi. So, whatever you’re feeling is—”

“I love you,” she continued fiercely. “And I think you love me too.”

“No.” Ben shook his head even as his heart leapt. “You and I...we’re...”

“Yes,” she insisted, turning around to embrace him. “You and I. We’re meant to be together, Ben.”

“No, I--I didn’t mean…” he tried, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears.

“You feel so good,” she sighed, running her hands up and down his toned biceps. “Every time you’re near all I want to do is crawl into your arms and stay there forever.” Rey fit herself even closer, nuzzling her cheek against his bare shoulder. “I want you so much, Ben.”

“Stop it,” he said in an agonized whisper, aroused by her words as much as her touch.

“What if I don’t?” she replied, equally as hushed. “What if I strip off the rest of your clothes, mine, and make love to you until the sun comes up?” Rey slipped her arms under his, skimming her slim fingers up and down his naked chest in a hypnotic rhythm. “What if I take you in my hands, my mouth, inside me, everywhere...what then?”

Ben shivered at her seductive challenge, so turned on he could barely speak. “Then I would be ruined.”

“Is that why you’re scared of me?” she murmured sadly. “Because you think I’d sully you?”

“No, never,” he refuted, wanting to comfort her even as she drove him crazy. “You’re beautiful, a warrior; I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Then why? Why are you so scared of me?”

“I’m not!”

“Ben, you’re shaking,” she charged softly, able to feel every subtle movement of his body as she cradled him from behind. “And this afternoon, you ran away from me.”

“I ran because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I gave into my feelings for you,” he said huskily. There was no hiding his physical response to her closeness now, so he didn’t even try. Instead, Ben decided to go for broke; to chase her away before it was too late for either of them. “Rey, I can't do this.”

“But—”

“No, you’re not listening to me!” he thundered. “I’m not saying I don’t want to; I’m saying I can’t!”

“Why?” she said, her question a plea.

“Because there’s something wrong with me, Rey,” he said gruffly. “Something that’s always been there, poisoning me from the inside out. And I’m afraid that if we get any more involved, it’ll infect you too.”

——————

A/N: The Snoke Age of Resistance comic came out today, so all aboard the Ben Solo pain train!! Hopefully this alternate version of events will help ease it a little. I’ve got Part II about half way written, and it will include some sexy times. Would love to hear what y’all think so far! Check out my other fics, I have a ton!

[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.1

Chapter 1: The Ones Who Died Without A Name

Crime in Amity Park, real actual crime, committed by humans, was exceedingly rare. Robberies and muggings were practically unheard of, never mind murders. And while ghosts attacked the city almost constantly, physical injuries were very rare. Sometimes people got injured in the general chaos, hit by debris during a ghost fight, or got threatened, but no one ever gets killed.

(author notes, full summary, content warning, and links to AO3 + Fanfiction.net can be found in this linked post)

It had been such an ordinary morning, he thought. He had hiked in the woods around Amity Park for years, and despite the presence of ghosts, he had never run into trouble. The forest was quiet and peaceful, as always. The birds sang, and as he left the set paths, he thought nothing could possibly ruin the moment.

Until he tripped and fell flat on his face.

He grumbled, cursing to himself, and pushed himself up again. Luckily no one had been around, so he could hold on to the last shreds of his dignity.

Brushing the leaves and pine needles off of his clothes, he carefully rotated his feet to ensure he hadn’t rolled his ankles. Reassured that the only thing injured was his dignity, he looked back at the root that he had tripped over.

It wasn’t a root.

He grimaced, hesitating. He didn’t think that roots could look so much like human limbs, but he was in no way an expert. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

Sighing, he moved over and knelt next to the hopefully-a-root, intend on brushing away some of the leaves to reassure himself.

But looking at it from this close, it was clear that his first thought had been correct. This wasn’t a piece of nature that just happened to resemble a human limb, it was a limb. Just looking at it made his stomach turn, and he looked away, gagging.

He glanced back, but took in little more than the horrible blend of red and black formed in the shape of a leg, with a strip of gleaming white where the kneecap was poking out, before he forced his eyes closed again. He turned away, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

He had never seen death. Not really. And even on television, in movies, it was never like this. Not this… this graphic. It was horrible, awful, he had no words that could describe how he felt.

Forcing his eyes open again, he looked around, making sure to avoid the leg. He wanted to get away from his find as fast as possible. However, he couldn’t see anything in the area that could help him track down this place again if he left, no identifying marks of any kind. He couldn’t even remember the way he walked from the path.

He cursed, then pulled out his phone. He would have to call the cops from here, and they could tell him what he was supposed to do next.

Unfortunately, he was told to wait with the body until the cops arrived. They couldn’t track his exact location, so he would have to call them over when they got close. A dreadfully long time later, he could hear them yelling in the distance, and beckoned them over.

One of the officers crouched next to the leg and whistled. He was promptly elbowed by one of the other officers, but her glare silenced any protests the man might’ve made.

His attention was drawn towards the officer who stepped towards him, however. The cop nodded towards him, beckoning him over. He gladly complied.

“I’m agent Payton, I’m leading this investigation. You’re the one who called us, yes?”

He nodded, focusing on the man instead of the body. Not that he could see the body, as a crowd of officers had formed around it, but still.

The agent cleared his throat, and he snapped back to attention. “So, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I, uh.” He licked his lips and tried again. “I was walking in the woods, which I do pretty often. Have done for years, y’know? Nothing ever happens, don’t ever run into ghosts or anything.” Seeing the officer nod, he continued. “So I was just walking, and I… I tripped. Thought it was a root, but then I looked and I saw...” He made a vague arm movement towards the still-growing crowd of police. “Well, I saw a leg.”

“So you didn’t touch anything?”

He shook his head. “No. Well, except for the part where I tripped over it.”

Agent Payton stared at him, expressionlessly. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the man was trying to read his mind. Whatever Payton was looking at, he must have found it, because he gave a curt nod and turned back to the other officers.

He hesitated, unsure of what he should do next. One of the officers clearly saw his confusion, as she came towards him. “Sir, we’ll need you to come with us to the station to give us an official statement. After that, you’re free to go.”

She whirled around and stormed off, and he obediently followed her. The confusing cocktail of emotions he had been feeling ever since he stumbled across the body had disappeared, leaving him rather numb. He wondered if that was normal. He also wondered when he would have to deal with the inevitable emotional backlash of this whole thing.

He shoved the thought away. It was a problem for another time, he decided. He would give his statement to the police, and they would figure the whole thing out, and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

And that, he did. His statement was taken, he was released by the cops, and he vowed to never return to those accursed woods again. Next time he would take a walk through the park, ghosts be damned.

Agent Payton watched the man leave with officer Carver, and turned back to the corpse.

While only the leg had been visible, the rest hadn’t been buried much deeper. They had successfully unearthed the entire body, which followed the same trend as the leg.

From top the bottom, the entire body was scorched, an unappealing mix of red and black and white. The flesh was completely burned away in many places, revealing shiny white bones. Patches of the clothes could be made out in places, white and black fused with the torn skin, but not nearly enough to tell what kind of clothing the victim had been wearing.

The body was far beyond recognition, but the small posture and slight build suggested that the victim had been a mere child. A teenager at most.

The overall picture was grizzly, and while Payton was one of the most experienced officers in Amity Park, even he had little experience with corpses so heavily mutilated. Especially if this victim had indeed been a child.

He studiously ignored the sounds of one of his officers vomiting in the trees (probably Milligan, he thought to himself, the poor boy was one of the newer policemen of Amity Park) and turned to his medical examiner.

“Doctor Beckett, what can you tell me?”

She hummed to acknowledge him, but didn’t look away from the body. “Well Matthias, there isn’t much I can tell you that you can’t see for yourself. The body was burned beyond recognition, but I can’t say if it was the cause of death or if it happened afterwards. Must have been buried for a while though, since it looks like it’s decaying already, which means that we can’t confirm or deny the involvement of ghosts. No traces of ectoplasm, y’know?”

Payton grimaced. “You’re right, that isn’t much to go off of. Better get this back to the station so you can start your autopsy.”

Beckett nodded, finally turning to look at him, a teasing smile on her face. “Aww, agent Payton, you know just the right things to say to me.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t dignify her with an answer. He knew she wasn’t expecting one anyway.

The corpse was bagged and carried off by Beckett and her assistant, and Payton called Milligan back over. The officer still looked somewhat sick, but was quick to assure Payton that he was fine. Or he would be, at least.

The ride back to the police station was uncharacteristically quiet. And so was the station, once the team had been informed about the case.

It was a gruesome case, but not unheard of. Most experienced police officers would know stories like it.

Unfortunately, Amity Park’s police officers weren’t like most other officers. The involvement of ghosts meant that the police had to be prepared to deal with bizarre and unexpected situations. As a result, they tended to attract not strict, highly experienced police officers, but the adaptable younger officers with less field experience. And none of them had expected to stumble across a case like this in Amity Park.

Crime in Amity Park, real actual crime, committed by humans, was exceedingly rare. Robberies and muggings were practically unheard of, never mind murders. And while ghosts attacked the city almost constantly, physical injuries were very rare. Sometimes people got injured in the general chaos, hit by debris during a ghost fight, or got threatened, but no one ever gets killed.

So yes, the new case caused quite a stir.

Unfortunately, this also made it nigh impossible to keep it quiet. The public was told nothing, all knowledge of the case was denied, but somehow word spread anyway. Before long, everyone in Amity Park knew that a body was found in the woods. And so the town became abuzz with rumors and gossip, the wildest theories spreading.

People suspected the ghosts, of course, who wouldn’t? But most people were quick to dismiss them as responsible. Amity Park is home to several ghost hunters, after all, and even if Phantom or the Red Huntress hadn’t been able to stop a ghost from killing someone, they certainly would have informed the police about the death.

No, it was considered far more likely that a human was responsible for this heinous crime. But who, in their right mind, would turn on their own kind in a city like this? An outsider, perhaps? Or someone from the city itself, who hoped that the presence of ghosts would cover their tracks?

Yes, there were theories aplenty, both among the citizens of Amity Park and among the officers working the case, but more proof was needed.

[abarbaricyalp]

tin epithymía tis kardiás

(Day three: Bonfire // Read part one and two))

They passed the days like that, lazy and soft in the sun. Ronan had begun to panic about the time passing, but Adam was quick to assure him that days were faster in Atlantis. It wasn’t so much that Atlantis based time around the sun and Earth’s rotations. The ocean was its own world and the fickle light sources that Ronan could never find were fueled by the sun, but were not the sun. Even with shorter nights, Ronan felt more rested than he had in over a decade.

Adam always had some place to show Ronan, leading him around, marked hand in marked hand. He tried to show Ronan places outside, always very aware of the way Ronan’s mood lifted when he was surrounded by grass and trees and light. All of Ronan’s sharp edges were illuminated when he tilted his face to the warmth, or curled his fingers in long strands of grass, but in those moments, Adam always forgot how sharp he was anyway.

Seven Atlantean days passed before Adam took Ronan to his most cherished public space. It took almost too long to climb all the stairs to the ornately carved stone building. Friezes in the recognizable black and gold decorated the top two feet of all the three floors. Frescos dripped down the walls like after thoughts and half statues seemed to pull themselves from the columns holding each roof up.

Ronan stared with wide eyes. He’d seen hundreds of libraries, some of the best in the world, and some of the oldest, but he’d never seen anything like this. Adam grinned widely up at him.

“We do not have many volumes not in Atlantean. Only a few thousand across Greek, Latin, Egyptian and other African languages, and Thracian. I think you will find some of our Latin inspiring though.”

“How did books survive the flooding?” Ronan asked, letting Adam lead him into the open space inside. The large, circular room opened into six different rooms that stretched so far back, the spaces went dark before Ronan saw the back shelves.

“Some gods were merciful to us. Things were saved sparingly. Our library before the flood would have broken your mind. Humans just cannot fathom such expanse.” Adam only sounded a little bit smug about it. The longer he spent with Ronan and Gansey, occasionally, the more he came to realize humans were not quite so different from Atlanteans. Stunted and odd, but not worlds away as he once imagined.

Adam rubbed his hand over Ronan’s lower arm and let him drink in the sights. Adam had noticed around Gansey that Ronan was bitter and short, cutting his joy off from his voice and face. But, alone, Adam got to see him light up with the promise of adventure and knowledge. Adam had asked Ronan why this was once, and after the light scoffing and eye rolling, Ronan had said Gansey just never asked the right questions, or seeked the right answers for Ronan’s taste.

“You,” he’d said, rough fingers brushing over the scarred markings on Adam’s face, near his temple, “are always leading me just where I want to be.” Then he’d smiled and brushed his thumb over Adam’s nose until Adam giggled and had to fight down the urge to sneeze.

So, yes, Adam let Ronan look and breathe in the beauty that he longed for. But, eventually, he had to pull Ronan away. “This is our foreign room. Not many use it. I’m one of a handful in Atlantis that can speak a language other than Atlantean.”

“What about Blue?” Ronan asked with a small smirk. As the days wore on and Adam and Ronan grew closer, it was obvious Gansey and Blue were also forging a vaguely steady repertoire with each other. Ronan’s jealousy bloomed even when he couldn’t recognize it. Sometimes it was a little tiresome to indulge in his need to prove himself better, but they were both in a good mood and Adam could detect just a little bit of genuine curiosity in Ronan’s tone.

“She cannot speak another language, but her family communes with the dead and the gods.”

“Bullshit,” Ronan said, admiration plain in his tone. Ronan always believed in the magic of Atlantis. There had never been a thing he’d seen, a place they’d gone, or a story Adam told him that Ronan didn’t instantly believe and devour with a religiosity that would put the priests to shame.

There was something magic about Ronan himself. Blue had told him as much when they’d eaten an evening meal with her family.

“Domitus,” she’d said, pulling him aside into a room he knew only briefly during an attempted relationship that had gone nowhere quickly. “The man you’ve brought...there is something otherworldly about him. Not just Earth. Something beyond Earth.”

Adam had frowned at her, rubbing at one of the sigil markings on his arm. “Humans don’t have the magic of Atlantis. And no other civilization had had magic,” he’d pointed out.

“I felt it, Domitus. The air cackles around him with energy. He’s more beyond Earth than some of the elders here.”

“What kind of energy?” Adam had asked. He knew Ronan was a multi-faceted puzzle, something he’d only seen a few pieces of, but he didn’t want to lose him to magic, like he’d lost so much else to it.

“There is a spirit attached to him. Something trying to speak to him. Old and strong. But there’s something else. Something in him. He brought something else with him.”

Adam had shook his head. “You just want him to leave. You want to take him from me. Is it not bad enough that your soldiers follow us wherever we go?”

“He is the true desire of your heart, Domitus, I know that. We can see that. But your heart is not the only one in this city.” Blue had looked at him with outright pity and Adam had left the room before she could say anything else.

There was something special about Ronan. Watching him run his long fingers over dusty spines in languages that Adam couldn’t begin to decipher proved that. But there wasn’t an evil energy about him. Nothing that would endanger the world Adam loved. Ronan loved it too. Adam knew his heart yearned for the one he’d come from, but Ronan didn’t treat Atlantis like something to be studied scientifically, like his companion did.

Adam knew Ronan’s judgement was clouded. He radiated the need to be loved like he radiated energy to Blue. The scream that had ripped from his chest in the cave all those days ago still haunted Adam. He could see all of the fight and feral-ness of Ronan’s human side when his companion suggested they find a way to ‘radio’ back to a ship they had come from. He’d seen anger like when Ronan had first raised his hand to Adam in the cave when Gansey said they should return to the surface, to Earth. It was a specific kind of anger. Not the base anger that cloaked the soldiers who followed them at a distance and pretended not to. It was was an anger bred of fear and hurt.

Adam had known hurt for much of his life. Physical pain at the hands of his father and mother. Emotional pain by his own mind as he struggled to do all he accomplished. And the empty ache in his chest that had overtaken him every time he looked at his wrist.

“You used these books when you were learning Latin?” Ronan asked suddenly. Adam watched the dust stirred up by his breath swirl in front of his face for a moment.

“Yes. There are few others in the whole empire who speak Latin. When I was trying to learn what was on my wrist, I had to come here. I read every book until I saw characters and words I recognized.”

Ronan made a sound and carried a stack of books over to a long table in the middle of the room. Adam sat cross legged on the table to watch him flick through pages.

“No wonder your grammar is so bad. These barely even added spaces between most of the words.”

Adam didn’t know what that meant, but he watched Ronan’s fingers brush over the letterings. Ink flaked off under his skin occasionally, but it didn’t really stop him for long.

“Do many people still speak Latin?” Adam asked. Gansey’s Latin was not the best, but Adam’s Greek was hardly passable and that was a major language.

Ronan snorted and shook his head. “Probably about as many people on Earth speak it well, as people here do.”

“Then why do you?” Adam asked. Ronan just held his wrist out, the Latin almost glowing against his skin. Adam let out a small laugh. “We learned the language for the same reason then. And had we not, neither of us would have Latin on our skins and we wouldn’t have needed to learn it in the first place.”

Ronan looked up with a smile on his face that made him look years younger. A beard had sprouted over the lower half of his face that added years to him anyway. Gansey had had no such problems, so Adam wasn’t sure what to make of it. If it was a magic thing or a Ronan thing or a human thing.

“What languages are dominant now?” Adam asked instead. If he asked about the beard, he would want to reach out to touch it, feel the odd coarseness of human hair that Atlantean hair lacked.

“English. It’s what Gansey and I speak when we’re alone,” Ronan explained. “Um, Chinese. It’s a type of… China is beyond Thrace was. To the very east. Spanish is popular. Spain is a country to the west of Greece and Thrace and Egypt. It’s on the other side of the Mediterranean ocean. But Spanish is not quite only from Spain. It has a lot of forms.”

“Greek did too. Sparta and Athens spoke different dialects and the northern plains were so removed that they almost invented a new language, like we did here.”

Ronan looked up suddenly and Adam thrilled to see a curious but studious gleam in his eye. “Do the words Linear A and B mean anything to you.”

Adam shook his head, but didn’t let himself feel bad. Ronan always had a reason that whatever he asked about wouldn’t make since to Adam.

“I figured it wouldn’t. It’s what modern researchers named it.” Ronan switched books and continued reading.

“What is Linear A and B?” Adam asked so he would look up again.

“It’s these two tablets that were found in an excavation of sites in Greece. It’s some of the oldest writing we have. We can decipher B, but not  A. Which makes people wonder if they’re different languages or dialects, or even if language was common at that point, or just personal.”

Adam nodded. “Atlantean was dialectal for a long time. Even after they went under the water. Thracian peoples and African peoples and Greek peoples all had their language dominant their culture. We find volumes still that no one can read anymore because it is too Thracian, et cetera.”

Ronan looked like he was about to say something else when a guard burst into the room. “Domitus.” He gave a slight bow to Adam, more of a nod and gesture. “Human.” This he almost spat. “Your presence is requested in the palace immediately.”

Ronan and Adam exchanged looks, but before they could move to each other, the soldier was pulling Ronan away, marching him out of the room. Adam struggled to keep up, despite knowing the way better than the soldier.

Gansey and Blue were both in the palace when they arrived. Blue looked furious and Gansey was fidgety in a way Adam hadn’t been able to catalogue yet. He realized with a start that Gansey’s hands were bound in front of him. Adam quickly moved to Ronan’s side, grabbing his wrist to keep anyone from hurting him. Blue had traded the flowing robes she’d been wearing the past few days for full battle gear again.

“What is going on?” he asked in Atlantean. He had to. He’d translate for Ronan when he had an answer.

“The desire of your heart lead more here. They fear an invasion,” Blue answered, keeping an icy look on Gansey.

The soldier who’d brought Ronan and Adam in made a noise behind them. “We shouldn’t be telling him anything. He probably conspired with them. He probably brought them here in the first place.”

Blue cut a look at the soldier. “Speak when spoken to,” she barked out. Still, she cut to the lingo that the soldiers used and Adam didn’t understand. He leaned towards Ronan’s ear instead.

“They think there’s another human.”

He could feel Ronan tense under his hand and from the way Gansey jolted, they were staring each other down. Finally, he asked something in English that stopped Blue and the soldier’s conversation. Adam wished he knew what any of them were saying.

“Domitus, do your sigils tell you of any danger?” Blue asked. Adam looked at her sharply. “You are a priest, deny it as you will. Are the gods telling you something?”

Adam shook his head slowly eventually. “Just the energy of the festival this evening,” he said slowly.

Gansey perked up and in terrible Atlantean, he repeated, “Festival?” He said something to Ronan in English that Adam assumed was a translation.

“Henry would bring a party,” Ronan growled in Latin. Just for Adam. Adam squeezed his wrist again.

“It’s a celebration of light. The gods do not have to bless us with light this far down but they do. We thank them every year by creating the largest fire we can in one of the fields. We sacrifice animals and plants and they send us new kinds and renew our light sources,” Adam explained back.

“What are they doing to Henry?” Ronan asked.

“Did you lead him here?” Adam asked instead of answering.

A muscle worked in Ronan’s jaw and his eyes were fixed in a glare on Gansey. “We both did. There were trackers in the suits we wore. He followed our path right…”

“To the medical unit. The heart of the palace,” Adam finished for him. It made his blood run cold, to think of the danger that Ronan had brought to the city. Humans knew how to get here. Until the next shift in the rocks, Atlantis wasn’t safe. And it was Ronan’s fault.

But Blue was right. Half the pain of his childhood was being a mouthpiece of the gods. The fire the sigils would burn into his skin when they wanted him to know something, the aching they left behind, and the cold that Adam couldn’t describe when they were completely silent tormented him more days than not. But he’d spoken true. The sigils were only humming in excitement for the festival. He could almost, almost, hear the singing of the lesser gods, who were closer to Adam’s Atlantean divinity.

“It’s safe, Blue. Let them see each other,” Adam assured again. His back was to the door, but the way Gansey visibly relaxed was a sure sign that Henry was in his line of sight and okay. Ronan looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

He rattled off something in English, biting and mean, but a little fond. Henry replied with as strong a tone as he could manage despite the wobble in his voice. Gansey said something and was suddenly across the room, a soldier striding after him. Despite his bound wrists, Gansey leaned into Henry and Henry’s arms came up to hold him tightly. It was so raw that Adam looked away. He studied his thumb as it brushed over Ronan’s mark, Adam’s own words in his messy scrawl.

Suddenly, in Latin, Henry was asking, “Is this him? The soul mate?” When Adam turned, Henry was studying him, a kind of mirth on his face that Adam wondered could be removed. He must have been terrified, but he was working up to a full grin the longer he stared at Adam’s hand on Ronan’s wrist.

“That’s him,” Gansey agreed with his own gentle smile. “They’re terrible to spend time with together.”

Adam could feel Ronan’s scowl without looking up at him.

“Keep the humans together. Find the trackers. Destroy them,” Blue ordered, cutting off the conversation.

Adam faltered. “Wait. No. Don’t take him. Let me… You said so yourself. He’s magic. Look at him. He’s light. Let me take him to the festival. Don’t say you don’t want the other one with you.”

Blue turned that hard gaze on him, but Adam had been scrutinized by her enough times to stand his ground. “Please,” he added softly. “He is the desire of my heart. I cannot leave him now that I know where my missing heart beats are.”

Blue sneered and then waved a hand. “You are already under surveillance. I’ll double the soldiers tailing you. And you will make yourself seen at least four times an hour. Do not run, Domitus. He is not worth it.”

Adam thought Ronan was worth a lot of things. But he remained silent.

*  *  *

Ronan was actually very helpful once Adam let him know what bargain he’d struck. Lithe though he was, he was strong too. Not as strong as an Atlantean, but he could carry wood across the fields and chop more when men wanted a break. Through it all, he kept an eye on Adam always. Adam swore he felt the sigils warm when Ronan was looking at him.

By the time it was dark, the fire was lit and large, stretching so far into the sky that Adam couldn’t see where the flame flickered out, only where darkness bled in on the sides.

“Do you have fire on Earth still?” Adam asked. They were sitting together, alone for the first time since Henry arrived. In the grass, their fingers tangled together and they kept leaning into each other for no real reason.

“We still have fire, yeah,” Ronan laughed, looking at Adam with a grin. In the firelight, he looked young again, softer than he should with the flickering shadows playing tricks over his face.

“Fires like this?” Adam asked.

Ronan nodded and straightened up again. His muscles tensed and relaxed just as quickly. Some kind of reflex tamped down. “We call them bonfires. Usually we’re not sacrificing food, we’re eating it.”

“Is that all you do at bonfires?” Adam asked.

Ronan laughed again and shook his head. “We dance like that,” he said, gesturing to the wild and carefree and happy Atlanteans by the base of the fire.

“Sacrificial celebration?” Adam asked.

“No. It’s just a way to be close and happy with someone,” Ronan explained.

“How does it help you be close?” Adam asked.

Ronan leveled a cool look on him and Adam felt his heart kick up into his chest. “Let me show you,” he said, standing up and offering a hand down to Adam. He hauled him up and then pulled him close. “Okay, you’ll put your arms around my neck like this,” he said, moving Adam’s arms. In the fire, the sigils glowed and they were warm in his skin.

“And I’ll hold you around the waist like this. Now we just move to the music,” Ronan said, shifting his weight back and forth.

“But we dance to the words. You don’t know the words of these lyrics,” Adam pointed out.

“Well, on Earth we actually dance to the rhythm. Or, you’re supposed to. Most dance music doesn’t even have words.”

Adam must have looked appalled because Ronan laughed, head thrown back. “Don’t look like I just killed your cat. A lot of still does. But you’re supposed to feel the music, move to it.”

He kept his hips and torso shifting until Adam was moving with him. And, yes, he completely understood why this would make people feel close to each other. Ronan let his forehead rest against Adam’s and they swayed back and forth in the grass by themselves. Adam thought this celebration was suddenly not about the gods and light, but about Ronan and love.

[watermelonsugarcubes]

gotta be you (up all night, track 2)

Summary: reader insert based on One Direction’s song “Gotta Be You”

Request: nope :)

A/N:  Ah I’m sorry this took so long!!! It’s certainly not the greatest thing I’ve ever written, but it’s an improvement from WMYB, and I spent a bit more time on it. I’m hoping to see my writing improve more and more over time as I continue with this. Anyway... enjoy!

Warnings: angsty pining

Word Count: 2.5k

It is nearing midnight when I look at the clock for the first time in hours.

It feels like forever ago that I took a seat on the couch and pressed play on the DVD player. I remember considering breaking out the chocolate ice cream I keep in the freezer, but I didn’t want to seem too miserable.

In reality, I absolutely am miserable.

How else is a girl supposed to feel when the love of her life chooses someone else?

It has only been a few hours since I finally admitted my true feelings to Harry, but it already feels like a distant memory. That could just be because I want to block it out of my mind forever.

Honestly, I never planned to tell him. If it had been up to me, I would have gone the rest of my life with him never knowing. But as fate would have it, I confessed, and now here I am, watching my favorite movie alone rather than with my best friend by my side.

. . .

“What has she ever done to you, Y/N? You two barely know each other!” Harry nearly screamed, his hands gesturing wildly in the air. “What is so wrong with me liking her?”

“Nothing,” I squeaked. I felt so small in that moment, so terrified of what I simultaneously knew and was oblivious to. “She hasn’t done anything, Harry. She’s perfect. You know that.”

“Then why do you hate her?” I maintained the gaze I held on my socks as he fumed, but averting my eyes could not prevent the wince that graced my features when he barked, “Why?”

I knew he would not be able to hear me when I whispered my reply, but perhaps I hoped he would just drop the matter. “I don’t hate her...”

“What?” At the top of my vision, I saw him take a step closer. I should have known better. He likes her. I know he likes her, and I know how Harry is when it comes to people he cares about. I also know that even though he is a normally even-tempered person, when he is angry, he will stop at nothing to satiate his annoyance. “What is it, Y/N!”

Make something up, I thought. It’s easy. Tell him she bullied you in middle school.

I swear I was about to tell him that she crashed into my bike as a child when suddenly I felt ready to burst. With frustration, with resentment, with pure, unbridled emotion, I could not say. But I consciously knew that nothing in my power could stop my oncoming words.

“I don’t hate her, Harry!” I ripped my gaze from the floor and shot my eyes straight up to meet his. When he took a step back, I took one forward. “I love you!”

It was silent for a moment, only the sound of our heavy breaths filling the air. 

“I’m— What?” he repeated, although much softer than before. He shook his head, in disbelief, most likely, and continued to stutter.“You—” And although I was now squeezing my eyes shut and could not see him, I knew that when he sighed, his left hand was carving a trail through his unruly hair.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes as if to prepare them for what would come next, for when I opened them, a brimming tear immediately escaped. I swiped it away before Harry could see. I would not have him pity me in this moment. I couldn’t.

I guess I didn’t really need to worry about that, though, because before I could even worry about him noticing the onset tears, he was muttering curses under his breath and grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch. And as he rushed out the door and into the night, I crumbled to the floor.

. . .

I wipe the tears of embarrassment that have fallen from my eyes as I sit in complete awe of my own stupidity.

What kind of idiot just says something like that to their best friend?

“I love you.”

What a bullshit thing to say.

But it’s not bullshit.

Maybe it would be if it wasn’t true. But I do love him, and there is a part of me that wishes I had just admitted it long ago. Because who knows? Maybe then, I would be the one Harry is getting drinks with instead of her.

But she is a perfect influencer, and I am sitting on my sofa reading the subtitles of Love Actually because I want to be sure that I’ll hear Harry’s ringtone if it ever happens to play. I hate to admit it, but I know it won’t. Harry knows who he is, and he knows what he wants, and if that was me, he never would have left. Even if he doesn’t want Lover Y/N, I pray that he still wants Best Friend Y/N, because I truly don’t know what I would do if he rejected me forever.

It might be good in the long run, but it would hurt like hell. I have never lived my life without Harry by my side, and I never thought I would have to. But then he went and stirred up feelings inside of me that I had lost hope for. And now I’ve ruined the best thing in my life. All because I fell in love.

I can’t help but keep replaying the moment he gathered his things and bolted. Harry is the one who always stays behind, but in that span of seconds . . . he just walked away.

I recline on the couch and close my eyes to the Prime Minister and Natalie’s deliciously cringe-worthy love story for a moment to bask in my humiliation. For a time, I focus on my own lack of romance and the mumbled sounds of that very thing coming from the television a few feet away.

The only thing that rouses me from my meditative mortification is the sudden series of raps that occurs. Glancing at the clock again, I see that it is now 12:24 AM. Certainly not an appropriate time for a visitor, but perhaps just the right time for a ghoulish one. It’s dark, it’s rainy, and it’s late: ideal conditions for a ghostly visitor. A ghost is the absolute last thing I need tonight. I wrap my blanket a bit tighter around my body and praise my past self for shutting the blinds earlier. Unfortunately, I fear that will do little good, because another three sharp knocks ring through the house.

This time, though, they are accompanied by the familiar voice of my best friend.

“Y/N, it’s me!” I hear Harry shout, his usually clear voice muffled by the thick wood of the front door. “Let me in before I have to ask your neighbor for the spare key!”

Despite my emotional agony regarding the situation with Harry, I actually smile a bit as I unswathe myself from the blanket and the cushions. Wishing I had put socks on again after my tear-filled shower, I patter across the wooden floors and around the counter in the kitchen.

I shouldn’t be surprised to find Harry when I open the front door, and yet the shock shakes me to the core.

Why is he back? He left. He could have stayed gone, and I wouldn’t have blamed him.

His hair is dripping water droplets onto my front porch, and when he lifts his hand to wipe the water from his forehead, a splatter of raindrops shoots onto the interior floor. His face is flushed, and his hair is a mess, and he is wearing just a pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt, but I cannot remember him ever looking better.

Without making a move to come inside, Harry looks me in the eye. “Y/N,” he sighs.

I scrunch my eyes at him and poke my head outside to look around. Not understanding, I step to the side and gesture for him to enter.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. He takes a breath and swallows. “No, I need you to hear me.”

“Harry, please come inside,” I insist. I may be mad at myself, but I could never be mad at him. Certainly not enough to make him stand outside in the rain.

As if to knock sense into himself or shake around an idea, he gives one flick of his head. “Please just let me say what I came to say.”

I relent and whisper, “Okay.”

Turning my body to regain my position directly in front of him, I listen.

“I need you to know I canceled my date with Sofia.”

When he doesn’t continue, I open my mouth to question him, but he makes the first move.

“That’s not what I meant,” he continues. “I didn’t just cancel it. I mean I’m not seeing her anymore.”

Immediately filled with guilt, I interrupt: “Harry, I didn’t—”

“I’m not seeing her anymore because I realized she’s not the girl I want to pursue.”

If he just came to tell me that there’s another girl also in the mix, I think I might just slap him across the face.

But then he grants me a little smile, and I know I shouldn’t, but I just absolutely melt. He releases a frustrated grunt and smiles to himself now.

“I don’t know why I can’t just get it out,” he admits. For someone so eloquent with his songwriting, Harry has never had a way with words. “What I mean to say is . . . I disappointed you. You’ve trusted me to be honest with you all these years, and I’m just now realizing that I never have been. I could see in your eyes, earlier today and right now, that I broke my promise to keep your heart safe, and I am so incredibly sorry. But I want to make a new promise. If you’ll let me. Because, Y/N, the only thing I’m surer of than how sorry I am, is how much I am in love with you.”

My brain registers nothing but the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops against the roof and the compelling color of Harry’s bright eyes for several moments. A drop of rain forges a path down the slope of Harry’s nose and collects in the crease between his nose and cheek. When he blinks, his long eyelash knocks it from its hiding place, and it travels down the rest of his face, finally ending its journey on the sharp drop of Harry’s jaw.

I blink, long and hard, and although his perception is far from the truth, I suppose Harry takes my dumbfoundedness as his cue to leave.

“That’s it,” he concludes.

I am frozen in the seconds between his words and the rotation of his body, but as soon as I see him take the first step away from me, my muscles activate again.

Completely ignoring the cold and the rain and the dark, I step into the midnight air and grab Harry’s arm. When he turns to me, he is clearly alarmed, but it is replaced with shock when I pull his face to mine and press my lips to his.

We are one and the same, he and I, and his reaction to my kiss is the same as my reaction to his words. He is frozen. But right when I think this is futile, he springs into action. When he pulls away from my lips, I am petrified, chilled by the thought that this is all a ruse, that Sofia is hiding behind the bushes with a camera. That is, until he meets my eyes and whispers my name with parted lips.

And before I know it, Harry is crashing them into mine.

This time is different. This time, Harry is animated, and he grasps my hips to pull my body flush against his own, eliciting a gasp from my own mouth. Once I am sufficiently attached to him and soaked with rainwater, he moves one hand to cup my cheek and tilt my head to further accommodate our needs. The size of his fingers against my face catches me off guard, and I have never before appreciated so much a man’s touch. The way my fingers slip right into his hair despite its boundless curls makes me think we were built for each other.

Hell, a part of me has always know we were built for each other.

The force of Harry’s lips nudges my head back, and I realize that while the rain around us is so wonderfully cliche, it is so perfect, for it accentuates every part of Harry that I love the most. He is tough in stature and soft in nature. His arms curve around my body, and his figure against mine makes me feel safer than ever before. His chest is firm but warm. He stood in the rain to tell me he loved me, just in case I decided to send him home.

I am in love with you, he said.

I gasp suddenly, and Harry pulls away. He searches my eyes for an answer to my action, but of course, does not find one.

“I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I thought—”

I transfer a hand from his hair to his cheek and caress his bottom lip. He sighs and lets his eyelids flutter shut for a heartbeat.

“You’re fine,” I tell him with a smile. “You’re perfect. I just . . . I never thought . . .”

Harry grins and chuckles before resting his forehead against mine. Although the rain is cold, I have never felt as warm as when he touches me.

“You said you love me,” I whisper with closed eyes. And this time, despite the noise around us, he hears my breathy words and confirms them.

“I do, Y/N.” He places another quick, soft kiss against my lips. “There’s no one else for me.”

I open my questioning eyes and look to him for an answer.

“I know why these other relationships haven’t worked out. It’s because they weren’t with you,” he clarifies. “The problem was with me being too blind to see it. But I see it now. It’s gotta be you.”

My eyes fill with tears at Harry’s words for the second time this evening, but now for an entirely different reason. No wonder all these girls—including me—have fallen for him.

“I just need you to give me another chance.” He rears back and dips a finger under my chin to tilt my face up. “I’ll love you right this time. That’s my promise.”

While I would love to scream, “Yes!” and shout from the rooftops, I hold a finger up in hesitation. “On one condition,” I propose.

Harry nods eagerly. “Anything.”

“We get out of this horrid rain.”

A bark of a laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, and I admire his delighted smile. He looks at me with what I can only call adoration and wraps his large hand over my much smaller one. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

And finally, finally, I think, we are on the same page.

. . .

my stories

[katarinaphang-blog]

He Says He’s Not Ready For A Relationship, Here’s What To Do

Are you confused when he says he’s not ready for a relationship yet won’t leave you alone?  You know that he’s into you, you can feel it yet these conflicting messages really weigh heavily on your confidence and self-esteem, don’t they?   And as the result you feel even more head over heels in love with him.   If that’s the case you really have to read this post.

Katarina Phang - Feminine Magnetism

The FB video above (please like and share it) discussed this phenomenon so common among women who will eventually land on my website (after trying everything under the sun), namely dealing with a man who is not ready for a relationship, even though he’s clearly so attracted to her.

Yuki was one of them but she, unlike so many other women, quickly wised up and started a dating rotation and soon was over her EUM.

She’s now engagement #29 out of 37 that have been reported this year (mind you number changes week to week very fast).

Here’s her story:  “I was introduced to this group by a good friend of mine who wanted me to see what I thought of Kat’s teachings. I was in a relationship with whom you would call an EUM for two years and thought that the relationship was great. However, something was off.

Yes, we saw each other every day. Yes, we spent all our free time together but something in me knew he wasn’t the one and over some time of reading others posts and struggles, reading over Kat’s book and lessons, I realized my relationship was really not going anywhere and so I broke off the relationship.

At that point, I was done dating duds. I decided to get on tinder just to see what was out there. I literally had no expectations whatsoever. I had matches with a few men but one particular one really caught my attention who is now my fiancé. We hit it off instantaneously.

It was difficult to meet up at first because we both had very busy work schedules so in the meantime, we texted throughout the day every day and talked on the phone in the evenings. I was honey throughout.

What is interesting was sometime in our conversation, he said, “I’m not settling.”

Course, I had no idea what he meant by that but I do now. He dated many many women before he met me. I asked him what was it about the other women that turned him off or what was the reason those relationships didn’t work out, and he said they were pushy, needy, etc… the last girlfriend pushed for a marriage so desperately that she moved from the south all the way to the NW to be closer to him which made him angry because he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her.

Then he met me and he said he knew even before meeting in person that I was the one. He has been exclusive from the very beginning and now he put a ring on it.

Ladies, do your homework. Listen to Kat’s teachings. She knows what she’s talking about. I can’t thank Kat enough.

Ladies, don’t settle. Don’t make excuses for losers, deadbeats. Don’t devalue yourself. If a man really wanted to be with you, he will make every ounce of effort to be with you. Don’t chase. Don’t make the first contact. Lean back ladies! It absolutely works!

Thank you, Kat. I don’t think this would have ever happened without your teachings and knowledge ”

Since the publication of my ebook: He’s Really That Into You, He’s Just Not Ready, I’ve been known to have this uncanny ability to turn this kind situation around, one way or another.  I’m now a specialist in “complicated relationships” and “non-committal men.”

The premise of the book is you can turn this around by not pressuring and pursuing.  By managing your emotional investment.  You keep dating him while keeping your options open till a better guy steps up or you are turned off so you can briskly walk away without any drama and heartache.

Yuki did that (she was turned off first).  I did that (another man stepped up and claimed me).  Either works.

One way or another you’ll come out on top.

This intermittent reenforcement creates the impression in your brain that you are so deeply in love with this man.  It’s the anxiety that tricks your brain to think that!  Hence bring awareness when you are under this anxiety attack.  Don’t let the smoke get in your eyes.  Care less, so he would care more.

Then you read it out there in the juggernaut that when a man says he’s not ready for or doesn’t want a relationship it means he’s not ready for or doesn’t want a relationship *with you.*

My track record has shown that to be FALSE.

So don’t listen to them, instead hurry dwell in my ebook.  It’s going to be an investment that will change your life forever. You really need to understand the principles that work with men. There are tons of women in my group who have married or are having babies with these EUMs.  Nothing is impossible in the Katarina Realm.

With my teachings you will be a high value woman that possesses the seven traits.

He’s not ready because one of these reasons:

You’re too clingy and over eager.  He doesn’t have the chance to catch himself missing you

He’s just out of a long-term relationship and wants to take things slow or be single for a while.

He’s not over his ex.

He’s scared of losing his freedom so show him that you love your freedom as well.

Good luck and let me know how it works.

Please share this with the buttons below and I’d like to hear your comments as well.

MORE: You Feel Friendzoned?  Worry Not, Do This To Reverse It.

You want to learn more of this sacred knowledge that will bring you more understanding of men, love, relationship and in the process more peace of mind?  There are a few options you can do (pick two or all of them):

1. Sign up for my newsletter, and you will receive three first chapters of my ground-breaking ebook and a free class on how to overcome your anxiety and triggers without pushing him away.

2. Add yourself to one of my fabulous FB support groups: Katarina Phang’s High Value Goddess Community.  My groups aren’t moderated and it’s what sets them apart, believe it or not!  Transformation happens gradually or fast (depending on where you are in your journey) because you are forced to see your own reflection in every member that stirs a strong emotional reaction in you.  The groups make you AWARE and AWAKE, that’s the entire purpose of my teachings.  It can’t be done when you are being coddled in a fake environment of safety (you don’t get that in the real world out there either but you will learn to cope as a healthy and well-adjusted adult).  Any wonder I’m the one coach with the most results out there?  It’s thanks to this, among other things.

3. Download my Apps: Android and/or IPhone and you can access all the free and paid contents from there.

4. Subscribe to this blog on the upper right hand corner of this page.

5. Follow me on FB and like my page, so you will know when I have FREE classes with juicy content and teachings on FB live videos.  I give away so much free content because I know the impact I have on humanity as a whole.

6. Subscribe to my youtube channel.  I’ll eventually add all my free classes/videos there.

7. Sign up for my magnificent Feminine Magnetism Group Coaching consisting of 27 weeks (approximately 54 hours of learning), particularly Module 1 Journey Inward and Module 5 Salvation Through Relationship.  You will accelerate your growth with this one-of-kind profound program not being offered anywhere else. Begin the journey toward equanimity and self-acceptance.

8. Come to my celestial home for the upcoming retreat.  We’ll have at least twice a year/retreats.  If you like to listen to my speeches, you’ll be even more blown-away to sit with me in my living room (the Zen room) in an intimate setting while I’m delivering my teachings.  You’ll come home with a new more empowered perspective on love, men, relationship and life in general. I can shift you energetically like no other and usher you to the gate of a new dimension of reality.

Please share this with the buttons below (and don’t forget to subscribe to this blog for more insight into the mind of men on the right side bar so you’ll get notified for each new post).

Image purchased from Deposit Photos

[peachingboy]

bnha l/n chap 6 final translations

After the feast Part 2 

[part 1] 

Iida checked his surrounding, no one should have woken up but he checked again just to make sure he proceeds, slowly towards Mineta’s head for a second time. That weird oval shape thing, there’s no doubt that it’s his glasses case! When on earth did it get stuck to Mineta’s mogimogi balls.

(This is bad)

Although he was happy to have found his glasses case, Iida was still concerned, folding his arm in worry. When anything sticks to the mogimogi balls, you won’t get it to budge for the whole day. He stopped talking about ideas where he’d had to pluck the anything from his head, as he wants to avoid doing anything that’d wake him up, however he can’t just leave him like this all night!

(So then, I must try and take out my glasses atleast!) thought Iida as he bent into a position facing Mineta’s head.

He managed to open the case that was stuck to his head and was about to retrieve the glasses that were sitting inside, thankfully the opening to the case was the side that wasn’t stuck!

Iida carefully guided his finger back in, however Mineta began to stir slightly in his sleep.

“There’s boobs in this store! Didn’t I say bring them all out...” 

“What are you going on about Mineta-kun? Aren’t breasts part of the body, you can’t just bring them out on its own. A shop that has only breasts, what kind of dream are you having? That’s impossible.” said Iida.

Suddenly he notices he was unable to retract his finger, did his finger get stuck in his glasses case?! Moreover for him to pull it out, he’d end up waking up Mineta, furthermore he still needs to go to the toilet, eat his late night meal and any other various errands he must face.

Iida hesitated for a moment, for now, he needs to figure out how to get to the toilet, however, he had to think calmly, opening the glasses case was already enough work as it was.

(I see, I just have to open it)

Iida steadied himself, and took in a deep breath, he just needs to get another finger in to open the case but it felt like he was disarming a bomb.

His finger shaking, just a little more, a little more and he would have made it to the glasses case, however....

“....That’s why I said, bring me all the boobs! All the boobs in the world, they belong to me!” Mineta’s sudden sleep talk clearly shocked Iida, which caused him to unintentionally jerk back, while the maki wrapped Mineta carried on grumbling in his sleep as he began to roll about.

“Oi! You can’t escape, those are my boobs!”

It seems like he’s chasing the boobs around in his dream.

“Ah! Wait!”

Iida ended up chasing around Mineta too, however Mineta was really nimble rolling through two rows of futons, however, there was still Kirishima, but Mineta chasing boobs, he could never be stopped!

“It’s dangerous! ah!”

Mineta collided with Kirishima, and at that moment, his glasses case flung opened and his glasses flew out! In the darkness, he was able to see the gleaming of his glasses falling like a meteor as it flew right over his head.

Iida was in despair, if it fell from that height it’ll probably break, more than anything it is to avoid having it fall on anyone, if it fell on a bad place someone would end up getting hurt. Please just fall on a futon, Iida prayed while chasing his falling his glasses.

Iida still made a conscious effort avoiding the use of his quirk; Engine dash in a bid to not wake up the guys. But in that moment, his glasses made a landing... and the person who was under the receiving end of it was no other than Tokoyami.

“Tokoyami ku-” Iida said as he watches it land, in the air the arms of the glasses opened as if spreading its wing, fluttering about, rotating in the night as it fell ----suchaaaaa (t/n im guessing this was some kinda sound)

“.................!!”

A miracle had just taken place right in front of Iida’s eyes as he stared in astonishment, as it landed perfectly onto Tokoyami’s face as if he were wearing them.

“phew...”

It’s a miracle, how something so reckless happened with no one waking up, after witnessing such a miracle Iida thought how this would be such a good story to share with everyone, however it was just wishful thinking, to bring forth such a tiny miracle while protecting his glasses made him a hindrance to his friends sleep, this isn’t the job of a class president. Besides right now, he needs to head off tot he toilet first, Iida was still mildly disappointed, as he gently removed his glasses from Tokoyami.

As he prepared to sneak out of the room, before leaving Iida made it his job to check over everyone once again before hurrying to the toilet.

-x-

“Phew...”

A refreshed feeling Iida was now making his way back to the boys room, ready to go back to bed, when he suddenly stops as he hears a small sound, it was the sound of chatter which caught his ears.

Iida was intrigued by the sound as he began to trace it, walking down the dark corridor. After a while, there was a door with some light peering through with the word office written on it.

“But this year’s first years are really interesting aren’t they?” The voice of Mandalady could be heard from the inside, so this was the chattering he heard from earlier. Iida turned his head to the sound, in his heart he was thankful and gave a bow to express his gratitude for such a kind compliment. Iida was about to turn on his heel, as he shouldn’t take too long returning back to his position, when he suddenly hears another voice.

“I apologise for bothering you..”

(Aizawa sensei?)

Iida stopped at the rugged, dreary sounding voice of their homeroom teacher, the wager between both class A and B, the issue with Mineta was utmost very troublesome. That was probably what Aizawa was apologising for. 

(If I only did a better job as class president...)

Iida obviously disappointed in himself, bit down on his lip. He should have monitored Mineta’s behaviour properly, he even participated in the wager.

(Sensei is apologising by himself, I, too as class president must apologise!)

Iida was determined to amend their ways, when the sudden voice of Pixie Bob could be heard.

“It’s fine! They’re high school kids after all, it’s normal for them to screw about.”

“But..” The voice of blood king was also present.

“Those kids went overboard, obtaining their provisional license isn’t going to be a walk in the park, they also have their test of courage too, is it really okay for them to screw about like this?”

“Take it easy.. like I said, they’re students, it’s not like they screw about all the time. The curriculum at the hero department, it must be jam packed everyday right?”

Iida could only swallow down his saliva at the exchange of words between Pixie Bob and Aizawa. That never changing tone of his, it was natural for them to take trust his words(?)

(Due to the trouble caused earlier, would they still be able to trust us?)

Yuuei was strict, it wasn’t going to be easy to climb over their walls, nonetheless Iida already knew this.

They were stern with how they showed affection though, whichever wall they’d have to climb next, he knew they’d believe in them. The people who had believed in their potential had always been the faculty, it was reassuring to know that. 

“...”

Iida’s chest began to well up with emotions as he inhaled a air, poofing up his chest.

(We have to repay back by doing the best we can, we have to exceed their expectations... in other words-)

“....plus ultra”

The uplifted Iida turned on his heel and made his way back to his room, for the sake of doing better, maybe they should prioritise their apologies to sensei first. 

To do well for the upcoming practice it is also important to make sure everyone’s in tip-top condition.

(...But, what was that noise?)

Iida’s head began to swarm with doubt, he remembers Aizawa’s words, however he shouldn’t let it bring him down, he continues back to his room in high spirit.

And so, Aizawa could still be heard.

“... Well, if they carry on being like this, they’ll be expelled straight away. but (t/n he said something about riding on a bet, but I’m so ?? bc it’s probably some betting, inner teacher lingo I don’t get, I’m sorry!)” said Aizawa as Mandalay collapses.

Blood king, Mandalady, Pixie Bob were taken back by the sudden wage.

“Ura, futtatsu tte” (t/n sorry I just can’t put it in english but this was part of the wage)

The teachers were entertaining themselves in the office in the late night with a couple games of Mahjong, while the student stood their ground with their pillows at the lodge (t/n referring to their pillow fights), the teacher’s stood their ground with their Mahjong.

Table games always had this strong image of betting which people like Iida had probably always imagine. 

You could see Ragdoll and Tora lowering their hands under their table in satisfaction. 

“So, should we finish this up, it’s going to be morning any time soon.”

“That’s true.” Blood King nodded tiredly at Mandalady’s words.

“One more time! One more time! Please!”

“Oi how many times must this go on?”

Aizawa looked over in surprise at Pixie Bobs unwavering perseverance, Pixie Bob was always concerned with marriage, there was a reason why she wanted to win so bad... the wage was that everyone had to introduce her to a good guy! She was the most pumped and eager, while Aizawa had already given up twice. The thing about Mahjong was, in comparison to the likes of Shogi and Igo was that you needed alot of luck to do well!

What if Pixie Bob lack of understanding of the game was a sign from god telling her to hold out on marriage for a little while longer?

“Anyways, tomorro- Actually, I mean today... Let’s just do this!”

“agghgh, my hands down, good night!”

Mandalady couldn’t help but quietly snigger, waving her hands about as she looked at the disappointed Pixie Bob getting teased by Rag doll and Tora, as Aizawa and Blood King proceeded out the office making their way back to their rooms.

-x-

“You’re pretty good at Mahjong, aren’t you eraser!”

“No really, I’m just average.”

It’s a relief, to be liberated from such a tiring match Blood King pitched in, whilst Aizawa’s focus was outside the window as they walked down the corridor. It was different from the city, there was a thick darkness looming, high and wide, but there was still a portion of light that could be seen from the window.

“Don’t tell me.. it’s those kids, at this time....”

The pillow fight from earlier, could this be the second round battle for revenge?, Blood King can only sigh.

“I apologise on behalf of that room over there for today.”

“Oi, Eraser! but...”

“Huh?”

“Doesn’t this mean it’s my class B’s victory?”

Aizawa shot a look over at Blood King who stopped in the corridor. He pretended not to care, Blood King was a hot blooded man, he took pride in his students and they too became infected with his hot bloodedness, that was the kind of homeroom teacher he was, he wasn’t one of those sweet, charming home room teachers at all.

But of course if it was class A vs class B, of course it would be his wish for his own class to win. 

“... Well, I wonder.”

It was becoming a pain, masking his inner thoughts with his sleepiness, but that was the most Aizawa could answer with anyways.

His nonchantless, and his escape from the question showed no signs of affections for his class. Blood King was taken aback by his reaction, he didn’t expect this from Aizawa. 

Aizawa suddenly plastered on a wry smile, it’s bad comforting an ego with talk like that.

“Anyways, I don’t think we should give them their hero license yet..”

“Of course, speaking of this... the hero killer isn’t he being imprisoned right now?

“It seems like it....”

The hero killer, named Stain committed a range of white collared crimes(?),he aimed to purge off the pro heroes but All might was the only hero he truly respected. Amongst the victimised hero’s was Iida’s older brother whose life was at the mercy of Stain. It subsequently led Iida down the path of vengeance, him wanting to avenge his brother, however Izuku and Todoroki were the two who came to his aid, heavily wounding Stain and led him to his imprisonment. 

However Stain’s actions started a movement, villains were moved by his actions and decided to start up, the Villain alliance being one of them, however unlike Stain and his individual motive, the alliance was definitely under some kind of instruction.

Nonetheless, the Villain Alliance is in the hand of evil and we’ll never know when they’ll come back for the students again, but when they do at that time the least we could do is to protect the student’s with our bodies, our strength will be the most vital then.

“...I do hope things will be okay”

---kooooooooooo--- (t/n sound of wind)

Aizawa felt a gust of wind blow by but there was a sense of malice, eeriness that came with it, it brushed against the back of his head, Aizawa instinctively went on guard, peering out the window but he was just met the general darkness of the night and the same one spot of light, nonetheless, it was inevitable that some kind of evil force was on their way.

THE END

t/n i am so sorry for not updating this any time sooner, I looked at the last time I posted anything and it was back in April omg damn I’m so sorry about that! also, I do apologise if this lacks any kind of sense? Idk it felt like a messy translations I hope everyone understood it though! 

[captain-swan-coffee]

Caught Hook Handed

Lines are tested at Thanksgiving dinner! Lots of fluff and of course lots of smut;)

Rated M You can read more of my work here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyrose82/works

“I still don’t really get what this holiday is all about. Every year I try to understand, but it just seems like everyone is getting together just to eat turkey and pumpkin pie. Besides there are much more important things pie,” Killian teased, playfully biting the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.

“Killian, I already told you. We don’t have time. We are already going to be late,” Emma giggled, a shiver running down her spine from his ministrations. Damn, that man was gonna test her self control today.

“Let them wait, darling,” Hook practically purred in her ear.

“I know they know why we are late every time. Our family doesn’t need anymore reasons to pick on us,” She moaned, as his hand traveled further down, playing with the seam of her navy blue dress. She could feel his hardening erection against the crease of her ass. Pull it together, Emma she thought!

It was crazy that they had been married for almost five years and he could still pull this kind of excitement from her. God, she had it bad. Emma quickly turned around and placed a brief chaste kiss to his lips, then spun around making her way to the kitchen to take the pie out of the oven.

“Easy tiger, you think you can wait a few more hours?” She laughed, staring at the bulge in his pants.

“The real question is, can you wait a few more hours?” Killian smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, I think I can manage,” Emma challenged, rolling her eyes. With an extra spring in her step and sway of the hips she pranced through the kitchen getting all the food they were responsible for bringing all packed up and ready to go. This year they were having dinner at Regina’s house. The Jones’s, Mill’s, and Charming’s rotate every three years.

They hosted last year, and Emma was glad it was Regina’s turn this year for many reasons. It’s a lot of cleanup and an obscene amount of cooking for a family their size, which Emma hated doing. And besides, Regina’s home is not only bigger, but the flow just makes more sense for their family. Everyone is able to fit and mingle comfortably, and her dining room is the size of a small country, and it opens right into the living room so you can easily keep up with the score of the game.

Emma was surprised how much Killian loved this world’s sports. She figured he would think this realms games a bit boring compared to his old life. There was no dragon slaying or sword fighting on television, but he loved watching grown men run around in helmets fighting over a ball.

“Babe, you ready to go?” Emma yelled up the stairs. Before she could finish Killian was halfway down.

“You know I’m always ready for you, love,” He grinned, throwing on his coat.

“Oh, please, that’s the understatement of the century. Now pick up that pie and get you pirate ass in the car,” She teased, flinging her bag over her shoulder and picking up her homemade bowl of mashed potatoes. The two of them walked out of the door and headed over to the Mayor’s mansion. Henry was already there helping his other mother cook and set up for dinner.

When they arrived they were greeted by what felt like the entire town. Regina certainly had come along way in the friend department. Only just a decade ago she had cursed everyone in this room. Now they were all over to share a meal and she had more family than she knew what to do with!

“Emma, you’re here!” Snow sang, Neal running beside her. He was getting so big. She didn’t know where the time went.

“Sissy!!!” Neal yelled, skipping to met her. Emma bent down giving her brother a big hug.

“How ya doing little bro?” She asked, squeezing him tight.

“I’m so happy you’re here! Henry’s been showing me and Robin how to write stories! He writes them and we color the pictures for him! Will you help us later? And can Killy help too?” The little wide eyed boy begged, jumping up and down. She didn’t know how much sugar he had eaten that day but he really should be cut off.

“Of course, maybe we can do it after dinner? Would that be okay?” Emma bargained with her brother. Neal nodded and smiled before running up stairs to rejoin the other kids. It gave Hook and Emma a good opportunity to take off her coat and say hello to her parents before the next interruption which was bound to happen sooner than later. After sharing a few words with the Charming’s Emma saw Hook glancing over at the TV displaying the game.

“Alright, go,” She nodded in the direction of the living room. She could tell both him and David were just waiting for the right opportunity to sneak into the family room to catch the score.

“You sure, love?” Killian questioned, not wanting an argument on this Thanksgiving day.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna go check on Regina and see if she needs any help,” Emma explained. Hook placed a quick kiss on her cheek before him and David practically skipped into the living room.

“Oh, there’s beer in the drink cooler underneath the bar!” Snow yelled down the hall. Emma and her mom walked to the other side of the house to find a frantic Regina doing five things at once. She was checking the temperature of the turkey while simultaneously stirring the gravy on the stove top.

“Emma! I didn’t even hear you come in! Happy Thanksgiving,” She hugged the blonde with a huge smile. She was wearing her signature pencil skirt and heels, with a blue apron tied around her waist.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help in here Regina? Emma and I really don’t mind,” Snow offered.

“Well, I guess I could use a hand. Snow do you want to set the table and Emma would you mind cutting up lettuce for the salad?” The former Queen requested.

“Sure,” They both replied. Mary Margaret headed into the dinning from to complete her task, leaving Emma and Regina in the kitchen.

“So, has Henry mentioned anything about school?” Emma asked, dying to know how he has been adjusting.

“Oh my god, I was about to ask you the same question! He’s said very little to me. Just that he likes Boston and loves his classes, which I suppose is good. His grades are great too, but he hasn’t talked about friends or girls or anything like that,” The Mayor frowned. “Should we be worried?” Regina stressed.

“Okay I have to let you in on a little secret and you have to promise to never tell Henry,” Emma whispered, stepping closer to her.

“Alright, promise,” Regina replied, her expression slightly worried.

“I did something really bad. I was so worried his first week at school, driving myself crazy wondering if he was fitting in okay and if he was making friends so I kind of did something terrible,” She confessed, cringing at the memory of her actions.

“What did you do drive down there or something to spy on him?” Regina questioned, laughing to herself.

“Not quite, I used that mirror trick you taught me to check in on him,” She spit out, biting her bottom lip. Regina’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped.

“You did not!” She giggled, her mouth dropping to the floor. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! That’s my move! So what did you see? Tell me everything!” She demanded, practically jumping up and down.

“Okay, so he has friends, a lot of them. And get this, I’m almost 100% positive he has a girlfriend!” Emma beamed, so excited to have someone to share this with.

“So that’s who he’s been text 24/7 for the last three days!” Regina confirmed.

“I think her name is Jessica,” Emma shared, as she continued to cut up a cucumber for the salad.

“Do you think it’s serious?” She implored, pouring her and Emma both a glass of red wine.

“I honestly have no clue. I only watched for a second before feeling super guilty. Killian actually caught me,” She added taking a sip from her class.

Emma loved her and Regina’s relationship. It was nice to have someone who understood her and to help co parent. Even though Henry was all grown up and don’t need them as much anymore, they both needed him. This was Henry’s first year of college. He has been attending Emerson in Boston for creative writing. They were all so proud of the hard work had to accomplish in order to get into such a prestige school. He was already one of the best writers in his class and his professors seemed to be blown away with his natural talent. Little did they know that he was the author of an actual fairy tale book.

“How is little Robin? Does she like living here?” Emma questioned.

For the past six months Zelena and Robin have been living at Reginas. Both sisters thought that it would be good for Robin to grow up around family. They had been living together ever since.

“It’s been really good. It’s nice to feel like a mom again. Even though I still have Henry of course, with a child it’s a different kind of need. She reminds me so much of her father. They are so alike in so many ways,” She smiled, as Emma gave her a supportive arm squeeze. The emotional moment was interrupted by the sound of the oven alarm ringing, indicating that the turkey was down.

“Oh, that was the last thing we were waiting for. We should be close!” She sang, taking the perfectly browned bird out of the oven.

“Dinner’s ready! Everyone come take a seat!” Emma shouted throughout the house. Like clockwork she could her the little pitter patter of children’s feet running down the stairs motivated by the promise of food. David and Snow set Neal, Robin and Henry at the kids table in the breakfast nook.

“I’m almost nineteen years old. I’m I ever gonna graduate to the adult table, or do I have to wait until one of you die off for that to happen?” Henry rolled his eyes, while helping his five year old uncle into his chair.

“Help me too, Henry!” Robin squealed, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Oh, you love it,” Emma smiled, fixing a plate for Neal and Robin. Finally all the food was ready and everyone took their seats. Killian took a seat at the end of the table to the left of his Swan and leaned over kissing her on the cheek.

“What was that for?” She asked, flashing her pirate a flirty smirk.

“What, I can’t kiss my beautiful wife? Maybe I just missed you,” He mocked giving her his famous cheeky grin. Emma grabbed the bottle of pinot noir to her right, topping off her glass.

“Wine?” She asked her husband, still holding the bottle in her hand.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, love? Killian jested, as she filled his glass half way.

“Always,” She promised before the last of the dinner guest took their seats. It really surprised Emma how many people Regina invited. It seemed like the whole town was at the table. Everyone from Grumpy to Mother Superior was there.

“I would like to say a few words if that’s alright,” Snow began, standing up. “I just want to start by saying how truly thankful I am for everyone here at this table. We were brought together by unfortunate circumstances decades ago, but I wouldn’t wish for it any other way. Even though the journey was rough the destination was so worth it. I’m so grateful for my husband, my two wonderful kids, and the best friends and family a person could ever hope for. I love you guys so much,” Snow choked out, raising her glass.

“To family,” Regina toasted, as everyone followed suit.

“Would anyone like to say grace?” Snow asked, while taking her seat.

“I will,” The Mayor offered, as everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads. “Dear God, or Zeus. Thank you for everything you’ve given us. And thank you for keeping the crisis to a minimum these past few years. I think I can speak for everyone at this table that it’s nice to have a little break,” Regina quipped, continuing with her appreciation.

Emma was intently listening when she suddenly felt a hand slowly moving up her inner thigh, caressing the soft skin. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know who it was. Emma could identify his touch blindfolded through multiple layers of clothing. Throughout their years of marriage and dating, Killian loved to test where the line was. Especially when it came to sex. He was always very adventurous, which was something she had come to enjoy, but he had never pulled something as dangerous as this!

They were literally in public sitting next to half the town! She could already feel herself heating up, as Hook’s fingers skimmed over the tops of her lace panties. God, damn him. This was not gonna end well for her.

“Amen,” Everyone muttered together. Emma completely zoned out or a solid thirty seconds during the entirety of Regina’s speech. When she opened her eyes she was expecting to see some sort of guilt or cheeky smile, but he was acting like nothing happened. Two could play at this came she thought to herself.

“Emma, are you alright? You look a bit flushed,” Zelena worried, looking at Emma’s rosey chest and cheeks from across the table. Shit, she was so busted.

“Um, yeah I’m totally fine. I think it’s just the wine. Sometimes wine fermented in oak barrels does this to me. It will go away though,” She quickly explained, hoping that bullshit story would suffice.

“I didn’t know that about you, love,” Killian mocked, challenging his aroused wife.

“Yeah, I didn’t know that either, Emma,” David chimed in across the table.

“Well, it’s kind of new. But enough about me, this food isn’t going to eat itself,” She stressed, passing the bowl of mash potatoes to Leroy.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, meaning Killian kept his hand and hook to himself. It would be a little difficult to multitask in that sense seeing that he needs the one hand he has left to eat with. But the bastard was still giving her that look that made her fall to pieces. It was unfair the things that man could do to her with little to no effort. But that’s when Emma realized she was just as good at getting him going as he was. Two could play at this game.

She had never been so bold in her whole life but something came over her, compelling her to go for it. As Snow and Regina set the various desserts on the table and everyone was lost in their own conversation, Emma slipped her hand under the white linen making sure she was concealed enough for what she had planned.

Taking Killian by surprise she brushed her fingers over the front of his trousers, bringing his soft member to life. Emma almost heard him mutter something under his breath but he managed to hold back. She didn’t just tease him like he did to her, that would be too easy. She swirled her digits and palm making large circles around his clothed length, rubbing him in all the right ways.

Thank God the rest of her family and friends were all laughing loudly about something she couldn’t bring herself to care about at the moment. His breath hitched, and just as Killian could feel the start of build Emma pulled away. He almost let out a whine as she cut herself a slice of pecan pie.

“Want any, babe?” She grinned, looking at him through her thick lashes.

‘No, love, I’m alright,” He stuttered, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Are you alright? Honestly you look bloody terrible. Are you sick or something?” Zelena ever so bluntly noted.

“I think I just ate too much actually. I think I’m gonna go upstairs and lie down for a bit. I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Killian finished, quickly getting up hoping the bulge in his pants wasn’t too obvious as he trekked up the stairs.

“I think I better go check on him and make sure he’s alright,” Emma announced, once the sound of him running up the stairs seized. She was thankful no one really thought anything of it. She strut up the stairs expecting to find her pirate waiting for her at the top, but he wasn’t there.

Emma began walking down the hallway thinking that maybe he went into one of the bedrooms. Suddenly she felt a hand around her waist pulling her through the entryway and backing her against the now closed door. It all happened so fast she didn’t have time to react. Killian’s body was melted to every curve of hers, his lips attacking every inch of exposed skin.

“That was risky, Swan. What would have happened if Leroy saw what you were doing?” Hook growled, nipping at the soft skin of her ear.

“You started it,” Emma moaned, frantically unbuttoning his shirt.

“And I’m gonna finish it, but we have to make this quick,” Killian groaned, moving them both towards the bed.

“Oh, I know that won’t be a problem for you,” She giggled, throwing his shirt to the floor.

“That was one time, but you love bringing that up don’t you? I think we both know I more than made up for that,” He teased, hoisting her onto the bed.

“Wait are we in Regina’s room? She questioned, between kisses. Hook looked up seeing the various photos of Henry and Robin on the bedside table. “Oh my God! We can’t fuck in Regina’s room!” Emma laughed, her hands covering her face.

“Do you want to do it on the balcony? It’s not technically in her bedroom,” Killian teased, pulling the zipper of her dress down.

“No, I feel like it may be a little cold for that, but definitely put it on my to do list,” Emma giggled, sliding his pants down with her feet exposing his still hard member. Killian reached between them, using his hook to rip away her panties. She didn’t want to count the number of underwear he’s ruined over the past five years of marriage. But she had to admit it did really turn her on.

Emma didn’t even bother taking off the rest of her clothing, she needed him now. Hiking her dress up, he hovered over her, kissing her passionately once again. Killian’s hand found it’s way down to her slick folds.

“Bloody hell, have you been like this the whole time?” He whispered into the crook of her neck.

“Yes, now get inside me, pirate!” Emma growled, wanting this drawn out torture to end.

“As you wish, my love,” Killian mocked, as he slid home into her welcoming heat. They both let out a stifled muffled moan, as Emma’s walls stretched to accommodate his impressive length. He set a punishing pace, both taking what they needed knowing they didn’t have long.

She loved how they rocked together almost in perfect harmony, raising her hips meeting him halfway. He filled her so wonderfully, the tension between them so taught that they could snap at any second. Emma could feel that familiar feeling building in her low belly, as Killian sucked on that spot just below her ear that always put her over the edge. She was worried that he might leave a mark for the whole world to see, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Even after five years of marriage he could still elicit this kind of passion and excitement from her. They both knew that no matter how long they were together, they would never tire from this. Emma hooked her legs around his waist allowing him to penetrate her deeper. If she wasn’t so wet it would have been borderline painful, but she was always so ready for him that only pleasure radiated from her body.

The feeling of his cock pulsating inside her tight walls drew a muffled moan from her lips. Killian loved her like this, wanton and writhing under him. He thrusted his hips faster and with more precision hitting her g-spot with ease, sending her flying over that edge taking him with her. Waves of pleasure shattered over them both, as they fuck each other through their climaxes slowly bringing one another down from their highs. The sensation sent fireworks throughout their oversensitive bodies.

“God, you’re amazing,” Killian whispered, almost out of breath as he slowed his hips to a halt. He bent down to kiss her again, while Emma let out a little giggle.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” She smiled, as Killian reluctantly pulled himself off of her and giving her a hand off the bed. They both quickly got dressed admiring each others sex hair in the mirror, and hoping that their family hadn’t missed them too much.

“Will you help me zip up my dress?” Emma asked, turning around or him.

“You know, I can’t wait until Christmas so we can find another room in this house to christen,” He joked, zipping up her dress the rest of the way. Emma laughed so hard she barely heard the bedroom door open.

There stood her confused father in the doorway. Killian’s shirt was still unbuttoned and Emma’s ripped panties were still lying on the floor mere feet away from David.

“What are you guys doing in Regina’s room?” He questioned not quite putting together the pieces.

“Do you really want us to answer that, mate? Killian stated, Emma nudging him hard in the ribs. David looked down and saw her pair of lace panties ripped to shreds on the floor and it all suddenly became pretty clear.

“Oh, God! Are you serious?! Her father scolded, closing the door.

“Keep your voice down, Dad,” Emma whispered, her face turning red from embarrassment.

“There are kids playing right on the other side of this wall! And on Thanksgiving when the rest of our family is mere feet away!” David whispered with intent.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap, David. Don’t act like I didn’t just see you and Snow exit the coat closet down stairs less than an hour ago,” Killian confessed, while buttoning up his shirt. David now had the same mortified look as Emma. There was a long awkward pause where no one said a word. They thought for sure the dynamic of all of their relationships would never be the same after this encounter. But Emma broke the silence letting out a suppressed giggle.

At first David looked at her like she was crazy. Why the hell would anyone laugh at a moment like this? Killian then joined in chuckling until his eyes started watering. Finally David cracked a smile, starting to see the humor in this.

“God our family is so fucked up!” Emma exclaimed, still trying to keep her voice down.

“How about this, next time just please lock the door,” David pleaded, shaking his head.

“Deal, mate, now what did you come up here for?” Killian asked.

“Oh, Regina sent me up for a lighter to start a fire. Everyone’s in the living room. Come on down when you’re done,” He flashed an awkward smile before leaving, closing the door behind him. Emma and Killian just looked at each other still laughing at what just happened.

“Well, you certainly can’t say you’re family is boring. Never a dull moment,” He teased, as Emma rested her head on his chest attempting to hide from embarrassment. “I just can’t wait to decide how we are going traumatize your father next Thanksgiving,” He taunted, giving her ass a playful slap on their into the hallway. They knew one thing. They never were going to look at the closet or Regina’s bedroom the same ever again.

@hook-n-emma @galadriel26 @deathbycaptainswan @teamhook @kmomof4 @afairytaleprincess @hook-n-emma @onceuponacaptainswans @asyouwissh @captainswanbookclub @sunshine2632 @blowmiakisscolin @jennjenn615 And I should be updating Royal Pains soon! Thanks for reading!

[burndownthehousetonight]

((This was absolutely not how @tinyredartist and I originally drafted this part of the recovery narrative and I don’t care one bit I like it anyways:) ))

Of course Aria and Terra couldn't stay at their old apartment, not after what had happened. The room had already been searched when they came to find Aria, what if they came back? And of course, the many wilting flower bouquets didn't help make the place seem any more appealing. All they had do to was find a new house, and they would be fine.

Easier said than done. With Manic living with Scourge, the only places the couple could crash were the castle and Fiona's loft. Not bad places by any means, but tense locations. Fiona was still seeing the king from time to time, leaving several relationships in the house up in the air to some degree. The only person out of this battlefield of emotions was Faolán, who could make anyone's presence happier, as long as he wasn't complaining.

Usually.

"Ariaaaaa," he said as he ran into her, a loud handheld system in his left paw. "Can you take me to the video game store? I can't find mom." His normal pep seemed diminished, as hard as the beeping music tried to make things upbeat and exciting.

Aria dried off her hands after washing them clean of paint. “Sure thing sweetie. What are you going to get while we are there?” She asked, grabbing her purse and checking for cash. Fiona usually repaid her after she took Faolán anywhere. "There's- There's that Hishiko game! I've got the new moon, not the full moon version... but! But, there's a new one! The eclipse version!" He was getting a little more of his energy back as he spoke about something he loved. "Mom said I could get it if I got an A in my math class, and I did! I got it!"

Satisfied with the money, she helped the little boy get his shoes and coat on. She knew Terra was at work, and Fiona was… Well… Either working or with the king. Neither warranted any more than a brief text to let her know where they were going. But the child concerned her

“What’s up buttercup? You’re not as cheery today” Even his energy had to run out, and when it did, the little fox wore his emotions on his sleeve. "It's been a week and she's always too busy. She promised me...!" He did everything short of stomping his paws on the ground, but his voice never got to a yell. A tinge of regret flashed over his face, and he looked away with a grumpy face. "Sorry," he said, meaning it but no less annoyed with his mother. For his age, he seemed well behaved. Whatever leash Fiona kept him on must have been very short. “It's okay sweetie. You’re allowed to be mad. I’ll talk to her, see what I can do. As for the video game store, I want proof of that A in math mister. Go get me your report card”

As she sent him off, she sighed. Things had changed badly from before. She was more panicky, nervous. Terra was too. But Faolán was taking this worse than them, because Fiona was too busy with the king. Aria pulled out her phone

{Fao got an A in math. I’m taking him to get that game he wanted like you promised.)

{I don’t know what you’re going through right now, but maybe you should come home and play with your son for a bit. He misses you a lot) The fox had made herself busier just to distract from everything that had happened, and much of her spare time was spend with the king. She was indeed busy then, and the few other people she spoke to in private were just as invested in figuring out Fiona's normal business. "Police presence is getting stronger near the old bread factory," she said to another pinned location on a map. She thought for a moment, taking a marker and X-ing out a few locations on the other edge of town. "Bits, stir up trouble over here Thursday night. Get as much attention as you can. Get most of them to leave the area, then we'll push the rest out. We can't let them get any ideas-" The quiet buzz was massively out of place in an otherwise serious environment. She reached into her pocket, expecting another spam text... "You're staring." Someone pointed out. She wasn't expecting such a heartwarming message. "Something come up?" "...No, it's nothing." Fiona lied. She'd handle that soon enough. But for now, the 'read' receipt was left on Aria's phone. It was going to be a while before she could talk with Fiona, but not before she could talk to Faolán, running back down the stairs with a slightly crumpled, slightly torn report card. Sure enough, there was a low A in math, barely edging up to the grade. A list of skills a student should have for a class, with progress denoted by a letter grade. Sure enough, most of the math section was filled with As, leaving him with a big shiny A and a smiley face drawn on by his teacher. Aria inspected the card, humming and pretending to think, clearly teasing Faolán. She couldn’t stay serious for long around him, and giggled.

“Welllll okay. Because you’ve been so good. You all set to go munchkin?” She asked the tiny child, scooping him up and nuzzling his face.

She also sent a text off to her mate, asking if she needed her to pick any games up for her gamer wife. At least Terra understood Faolán’s obsession with games. Aria a little less so, but she had grown fond of it when her mate and the pup had constantly spoke about them.

She opened a warp and grabbed her purse. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ All afternoon, the little wolf had been playing his game with a passion. New places, animals, everything! He sat huddled up in a throw blanket with the volume up, late into the evening. So late, in fact, he ended up falling asleep where he said, music still playing from the device. When her warp back was opened, Fiona went to investigate the noise. "Fao... how are you, Fao? Are you liking the-" He was asleep. Fiona sighed. Too late to talk to him again. She turned back to the king who opened the warp, closing the device. "Your... people have been giving Fao his medicine, right? When Aria's not here?" Not something she needed an answer to, just something less depressing to talk about. “Yes, of course. Rosy is a mother herself, she knows exactly what to do, and so do the other four or five guards that rotate.”

He bent over, lowering the volume on the device and plugging it in to the wall to charge so the boy wouldn’t lose his save data.

“You should take him to bed,” was all the king could say. It wasn’t his place to tuck Faolán in, but he strongly implied it. Fiona knew, first handing her phone over to the king. "Can you type something," she asked as she picked up the little boy in her arms. Surprisingly strong, given how she looked. "I need to send a message to Aria..." {It's hard to make the time. I miss him too.) She seemed totally used to carrying the wolf, as though she'd carried him to bed many times before. "His doctor says he shouldn't go near those forests, he shouldn't be near poison ivy." The words were spoken in a hushed voice as she draped the blanket over the sleeping child. She rubbed her temples. "Make sure he doesn't leave the castle alone. He doesn't get how dangerous immunodeficiency really is..." She leaned against the wall outside the room, sighing and looking like a massive weight was taken off her shoulders. "Long day," she said. Those texts from Aria sure didn't make her feel better, either. Scourge did as he was told, and listened intently to Fiona’s orders about Faolán.

“I already told the guards he’s not to go near the forest, I wouldn’t want him getting lost. Don’t worry. He’s safe here… It sounds like he’s missing you a lot. Maybe take tomorrow or the day afterwards off? Spend some time with him? Fiona I guarantee that one night won’t hurt anybody.”

He wanted to hold her, but the lines of their relationship were blurry. Was he allowed to touch her when they weren’t hidden behind closed doors? He put his hand on her shoulder. Close enough. "I know," was all she said. she didn't protest the hand on her shoulder, onto rubbing her temples as she tried to calm down from her day. "He's been angry at me a lot lately, too. I don't blame him." What was she supposed to say from there? It was just a depressing situation to be in. All she wanted was some kind of comfort. She stopped rubbing her head to look up at the king. "Do you have any of that amaretto left?" She asked, not particularly caring if anyone saw them being close. "I need to forget today for a while." “Of course. But only one glass for you then bed, okay? Sleeping it off may help, he insisted, leading her by the hand back down to the living room and pouring them a glass each before putting the bottle away.

“A glass for the lady,” he joked. Making a fool of himself again to lighten the mood. He didn’t know what else to do for her, so he sat and waited for her to start talking. When the silence grew too unbearable, he prompted her.

“Did you wanna talk about today? It might make you feel better.” "You don't want to hear about it," she promised him. But he was making that begging, almost puppy dog face, and she knew she wasn't getting out of it. "Ugh. I've been trying to handle some stuff with an old factory and some new stores popping up, but I kept getting called for all kinds of problems. There was a university smartass trying to count cards who wasn't confessing, then some thugs trying to break into the nightclub under the building, then a... ..." Problems piled and piled on top of each other, with the smooth drink loosening her up a bit more. Maybe the king was making an ass of himself, but he was making her laugh, and she was at least starting to look more fondly on this stuff in hindsight. "...it turns out they WEREN'T from a gang I hadn't heard of." Fiona chuckled as she put her glass down. "They were just some college kids spray painting some internet meme thing on random walls." He laughed at the story, the two leaning on each other to support themselves. He loved the sound of her laugh and the fact that he could make her happy.

“Kids. I swear sometimes there's just no understanding them. But at least that’s a little less of something to worry about”

He didn’t want to mention the last time they had been drinking in this room. They had created a tangled mess of emotions for them to sort through. And the king was doing his best to straighten himself out. Fiona was similarly concerned, but not as much as the king. Her emotions had leveled out again, and she was enjoying being with the king. And this didn't really count as drinking, right? Just one glass of relatively weak alcohol? It was a kind of warmth she didn't often get the chance to feel. But all things had to come to an end, and even after sipping it as slowly as possible, her empty glass was placed down on the table again. "I should get some rest," she said, "I need plenty of it." Yet they sat. Companionship was more than rare for her, and it almost felt like a waste to end a friendly chat then and there. “We should. It's late. And you have some university punks to teach a lesson or two in the morning.”

He didn’t move either, just enjoying her company. They hadn’t spent much time together as of late, not any kind of time that would matter anyways. He truly had missed her, but it wasn’t something he knew how to explain. He almost pressed closer, just to see how she would react. But he didn’t want to push her too far. She saw the subtle movements, so subtle that it didn't even seem like he knew them. Was he trying to get closer...? No, she could go further with him tonight, she was too exhausted. Legs uncrossed as she stood up, carrying her glass over to the bar and looking at the king. "Good night, your highness." And Fiona was gone once again. Would they get to talk again the next day? Maybe not. Her son missed her too much, and was too young to have the same understanding Scourge could have, but that didn't necessarily mean she couldn't see them both. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ "Are you going to play your game the whole walk over?" Fiona asked. It wasn't really supposed to be a long walk, just through the castle rose gardens with Scourge and Faolán. But the wolf was too enamored with his game to stop playing, even then. Scourge reached out and lifted a branch that Faolán was about to run into, chuckling. “Careful kiddo. We don’t want you getting hurt.”

The king leaned back a little to whisper to Fiona. “Maybe we should stop and let him sit to play for a bit. After all, as much as he wanted to see you, he doesn’t care for sharing the time I don’t think. Maybe talk about the game with him?”

The king shrugged as he gave suggestions and idly inspected a wilted rose or two, sighing. “The heat is killing these flowers.” Fiona put her hands on Fao's shoulders, starting to redirect the child as they changed course. Just enough to move them towards a gazebo near the center of the area. Faolán quickly hopped up onto the bench inside, with Fiona sitting down next to him shortly after. "I've never played one of these games," she started. "What exactly is it about?" She could almost see the stars in his eyes. "Well... Well, you're a guy called a skyglider, and you're on this quest to find someone called Eris, and... ...!" He was excited to talk about his game, for sure. But it definitely wasn't what Scourge was planning on talking about. It seemed like what one of them liked, the other wasn't interested in. 'This was a terrible idea,' she thought silently. Scourge did his best to give Faolán time with his mother, while also trying to follow the conversation. He also tried to avoid acting like Faolan was his child. It wasn’t easy. The little one seemed upset that his mom’s attention was being diverted between the king and himself.

Yet he still listened and asked questions as Faolán explained the game, trying his best to make the other boy comfortable. It was nice seeing Faolán chipper though. Lately they all needed to spend time with him, his unwavering source of innocence and purity was a break of fresh air. For just a few moment, Fiona truly did relax. She forgot about her many stresses, and just focused on enjoying this time with the two- All of the bleeping music was joined by an inharmonious buzzing sound. Not long after starting her break, Fiona had already gotten a message she was quick to reply to. {Card counting punk from yesterday snuck a gun in, holding him in the cell. Says he wants to sue the owner, need you to scare him.) {Can't you handle it?) {He's serious, only wants to talk to you.) She let out a heavy sigh as she weighted her options. "I'm sorry... Fao, I've gotta go, there's some stuff at work." She said, patting the child on the head. She looked at Scourge, annoyed. "We can talk tonight, can you watch Fao before Aria gets back?" “Sure, not a problem. Guess its just the two of us, right kiddo?” He nodded at Fiona and turned to Faolán, trying to make light of it all.

The kid didn’t like him. Maybe he thought he was stealing Fiona’s attention? Or trying to replace Castillo? He certainly saw the fox more, but that wasn’t his intention at all.

“So what’s new kid? How’s school?” "School's done," he said simply. Perhaps summer break hadn't started there yet? His normal excitement when talking to people was gone, but at least he wasn't ignoring the king. He hadn't done anything REALLY wrong. And it was back to his game. Without Fiona there to talk to them individually, all that was left was an awkward quiet that left them to come to their own conclusions. Fiona had already rushed into the castle and out of sight. Scourge was stuck with the child. "Why haven't you let dad and Manic come back?" He asked, but he didn't seem to blame the king, or even sound angry. All that was left in his voice was acceptant sadness. “Wow, already with the big questions? I’m not surprised… Well, it’s kind of complicated. Let’s just say that your father and Aria got into a really big fight before… Well… Before that thing happened to Aria and Terra. They need time to readjust and cope with it. Your father being around her might make it worse. But when she’s not here, that’s up to your parents to decide, not me. Listen, you’re lucky to have a dad like Castillo. I promise when everything gets better, that you and Castillo and everyone can come over whenever you want. Deal?”

A sudden paused, then he looked back over at the pup. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. I don’t want you getting mad at Aria or either of your parents, okay?” "I won't," the boy promised, sounding no less sad. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the one he was stuck with. Those tall ears flicked a little while he mulled over what the king had said. "Manic's my dad, too. But I won't get angry at him, either." That hadn't helped the way Scourge had hoped, he wasn't any less sad. He still missed his dads. He missed his mom. He even missed Aria a little. But instead, he was stuck waiting. Stuck with this king, who only felt like some cold tease. "Can I go get a sod- a juice?" All he had to do was distract Scourge, and then he could run somewhere else in the castle. Somewhere alone! Yeah, that could work, right? “I really am sorry kid. I can’t even begin to imagine how this feels. But I promise, it’ll get better”

When the other requested a drink, the king saw right though his plan. “Sure kid. Let’s go back inside, get you a drink, and then you can call your dad and see if he’s busy. Aria won’t be home until late.”

The king got up and tilted his head, motioning to the pup for him to follow. “I know you don’t wanna spend much time with me, but you can’t run off. Your mother would not be happy with either of us”

From behind Scourge, the ghost Fiona appeared. She pressed a finger to her lips and motioned for the little boy to follow the king. It took all of the manners Fiona had tried to teach not to stuck his tongue out at the ghost and run away anyways. But he didn't really have a choice. Every step back towards the kitchen was grumpy, but he was moving. Making Fiona angry at him sounded good, though so did talking to dad, and that's what he really wanted. That and a cola, but that was a different kind of want. "Where do you keep the soda?" He asked, maybe just a little curious in case he wanted any late night snacks. When they reached the kitchen, Scourge pulled two colas out of the fridge and handed one to Faolán.

“In the fridge, where else?” He seemed a little confused until he realized that Fao was used to having junk food hidden from him.

“Imma go get my phone. Please stay here? I don’t want you to run off and get hurt.” The king ran out of the room as fast as possible, only leaving a slight breeze.

Ghost Fiona appeared and sat on the counter. “Hello again little one. So, what’s bothering you?” How long would he have to talk? He didn't particularly want to talk anyways, and spent a good few seconds just puffing his cheeks and looking down. "Everyone's fighting again." Not entirely accurate, but it was succient enough. "I just wanna see mom and my dads, not just..." This was the same thing. Sure, she was fun and liked to go on adventures. But she just felt like another carrot dangling in front of him, taunting him. Cheeks puffed out again in frustration, and he shut his mouth. “I'm sorry. But the king is trying his best. I don't know what else to do to help sweetie. I can only imagine how awful this feels for you. If I could help, I would but… The king can’t see me. And your mom… She would only get scared. I don’t want to do that. But I promise everyone loves you sweetie. A lot.” She kissed his forehead and the king returned with his cell, already talking to Castillo. “Yeah, here he is.” The phone was given to the child, and Scourge could have sworn he had seen someone else in the kitchen. But it was empty. Maybe he should go to the optometrist. The little paws fumbling to hold the phone were totally audible to Castillo, who was relieved to finally get a call in. "Kid! Buddy, how you doing?" He said, trying not to sound desperate to talk to him, but it was still his son. "You hear there's some kinda... what's the word, eclipse version of-" "Yeah, I got a copy!" Already, the child's tail was swaying a little even as he clung to his crabbiness. "It's fun. ..." For once, he didn't really want to talk about it. "When are you coming back?" All he could do was give a heavy sigh. "I hope soon, kid. But if mom don't want me picking you up, I can't do nothing. Uh, we could always... ..." The words evaded him. "Gimme that" was said in the background in Manic's voice, and he reached forward for the phone. "Hey, brumby! I got Scourge a copy of that game! Hey, maybe you could play over the internet? Would that work?" The surprise of him having that game was enough to stun him out of the mood he was trying to force. "What...?! What, really?" The phone was handed back to Scourge, who only stopped listening to his son's overexcited babbling when Manic leaned in to whisper something. "I think I have buy you a video game now. And a console." He admitted, scurrying out the door in a moment. Scourge merely laughed and smiled at the kid’s tail thumping against the counter top. He was glad that Faolán seemed to feel better.

Fiona clapped, excited for the boy as well. “See, told you so!”

Scourge looked over at the child’s enjoyment and thought about talking to his mother. The fox didn’t trust Castillo, but she trusted him, didn’t she? When she arrived in the evening, she was in a hurry to see how her son was doing. And she was thrilled at seeing how excited he was. She even let Fao stay up a little later than usual, just to make him happy. "Whatever you said, remember it. He doesn't always get this happy." It was a fiddly process that involved Fao talking on the phone with his dad, his dad making a character, and the two sending some communications stuff back and forth. But they were on the internet, in this little game, able to interact from miles away. That didn't mean he dropped the phone, of course. No, they were playing this live with each other. It was so many of the things he enjoyed at once... it was too perfect. They didn't want to interrupt, so Fiona and Scourge sat at a distance, letting them make sure he wasn't doing anything bad but give him space. "Maybe you should babysit instead of Aria?" Fiona teased at Scourge. "You're great with kids." “I said nothing, just gave him the phone. Ah, I’m not half as good as she is. She helped raised her little siblings, and there is a lot. She was pseudo adopted by a woman who had 19 kids and she helped raise them all. My first contact with other kids was when I was 13 and the kingdom demanded a ball for me. It was horribly awkward.”

He clearly was uncomfortable with the compliment but smiled all the same. “So how was work? Lemme guess, that guy isn’t bothering you anymore?” He teased back, playfully.

Ghost Fiona floated around the two and rolled her eyes. Her dorky husband was still just as awkward now. Fiona just laughed and leaned forward. "Well, he wasn't lying. His daddy really was a lawyer," she started. "A lawyer who specializes in inheritance disputes. I asked one of my guards to crack his knuckles in front of him; You could watch him turn to jelly!" This time, she didn't even have to drink to get to laughing with Scourge. Putting a dumb kid in their place and seeing her own kid this delighted was more than great, it was stellar. It just felt good. Good in the simple way, in the deep emotional way. It was a thoroughly warm moment that she just wanted to revel in for a while longer. A rare happiness. "But you still didn't tell me what it took!" She said, not wanting his little subject change to distract her too much. "What's making him so happy?" “Fiona, all I did was give him the phone. Castillo did the rest. Well, Manic mostly, but Castillo for sure. I can’t say anything that wouldn't be more effective coming from them. Hell, Faolán doesn’t even really like me, and then I can’t blame him! Just…” The king paused to collect himself. “Look. I’ve been in something similar to Faolán’s situation before. I was raised by one person and I never got to see my mom. Well, she was dead, but you get the point. And while it’s not exactly the same, I can see why being with Castillo makes him so happy. Maybe you could let him come over here to hang out with Castillo every once in a while? Just to have a neutral ground?” Fiona's hand swirled around, but she wasn't making her normal disgusted face at the news. That was a good sign. "If he's had fights like those, he'll have fights like that again." Fiona said. Yet she was still in thought. "When is Aria coming back to babysit? They shouldn't be in the same house together." “I don’t know. She’s doing something with Terra and they didn’t say when they would be back. I agree, but maybe after all of this settles down it wouldn’t be a bad idea? Faolán would like it a lot I bet. It would be nice to see him this chipper more often.”

He looked over to her, studying her expression. He never could understand what she was thinking. Maybe this time her face would give it away. All it belied was sadness and deep thought. "I don't know why he looks up to him." She grumbled, but not sounding as angry as she normally would. "He needs more friends in general, not just adults. He just needs company." But then again, Aria and Terra needed all the support they could get, and even Manic and Scourge leaned on each other. "We all need company, I guess." She held her head in her hands. "It's hard to meet new people who can look past my job. It gets sickening." “I can’t say anything to that. He needs to find friends on his own. There isn’t anything you can do. And yeah, we all need company, you’re right.”

He brushed his hand against hers with a soft smile, trying to stay within his boundaries. “I get it. I do. I’m the nations favorite punching bag, it's not easy. People get intimidated or scared off or they try to use you… I've been lucky, managed to pick those ones out right away. But still…” "We've all had that, but fuck me if we don't have it worse than most." The line had a short laugh, that kind when she was still warming up to something uncomfortable. Namely, her own betrayals. "I don't want that to happen to Fao..." She just looked on, at her ecstatic child poking away at his device and getting absorbed into the fights alongside his dad. A lingering, longing kind of look. A look that just for a few seconds, wondered if this was in a way her betraying her child's needs. "...Fine. You win." She admitted, quieter than usual. "But keep him under close watch, you know how he runs off, I don't want him to get hurt." Her own hand patted Scourge's, a thank you without needing the humility to say the words. He blushed, and kissed the back of her hand gently. Luckily Faolán didn’t notice, far too absorbed in his game. “It's good for all of them… But I don’t know if I can control Faolán all that much. When we were in the garden he was gonna book it until I mentioned how disappointed Castillo and you would be. I think we need to set Aria and Castillo up for a talk or two. This needs to be worked out.” "If they can," Fiona said. "He's too stubborn. If I was in her place..." For once she couldn't finish the thought. Fao was so genuinely happy to be with him. She wanted to bash him to hell and back, but not if it meant hurting her kid. Her emotions tumbled between anger and sadness at a moment's notice. There wasn't a way out of this without a little sacrifice. “Aria is her own creature. We can’t control her or decide anything for her. We just need to get him and Manic in a room with her and let them talk it out.” The sound of a grandfather clock chiming played in the background, but became more apparent in her mind. Eight chimes. This was normally his bed time, but he was so happy...! "Hey... hey, Fao?" Fiona walked up to her son, hoping to juice this happiness as much as she could. "If you promise not to be too loud, I'll let you stay up tonight. I'll let you have the room and the TV all to yourself!" Scourge wouldn't be able to hurt him through a phone call, right? She knew she was going to regret it immediately, but she forced herself to say them through her own emotions.

He was presently surprised when she offered Faolán a later bedtime, and the whole room to himself. She was sacrificing just a bit to make Faolán happy and Scourge was relieved. At least she was giving in a little.

But where was she going to sleep? Fao couldn't have been more excited in that moment. Sure, he hugged his mom and told her and Scourge goodnight, but both hurried rushes were followed with him rushing to get back to the room... only to run back downstairs after his father suggested he raid the kitchen for snacks. Fiona didn't stop him, thinking he was only going to take a soda. Seeing him like this was genuinely heartwarming for her. "You have a lot of guest rooms, right?" She said, rubbing her temples. "I'll just use one of those, or maybe warp back to my home. I don't know." Their relationship had draped a sexual tension over everything they did. Fiona wanted Scourge to say it himself, but she knew he was probably not going to want to say it himself. "You... don't believe that, do you?" She said, giving a bit of a smirk and a laugh. “I mean… The offer is always open Fiona. I wouldn’t mind.”

He was blushing. Sexual tension wasn’t something he knew how to deal with, and certainly not with a child in the room. His hand found hers again. and if nothing else, he gave her a cheesy and awkward smile to laugh at. Getting up, he made his way over to the bar.

“Did you want the usual?” He asked, mixing a nightcap for himself and holding the fox’s favorite booze up. He didn’t have any preference for it, bit he knew that she did. "Absolutely," she said with a smile. Yeah, a little alcohol would put her nerves at rest, and the sound of her son scampering up the steps with crinkling bags of chips just said that they wouldn't have to worry too much about him. For now. Because he did have a blast, flipping through channels and going even farther in the game, but he was used to falling asleep around eight. Eleven was a new record for him, and just about then, even he had to admit his exhaustion, closing his device to charge and flopping onto the bed, bloated and tired from many types of chips and junk food. Exhaustion only meant that he was going to go into a deeper sleep with more vivid dreams. This was a familiar place, a dreamscape he had seen before plenty of times. It was a fake home, resembling the architectures he'd seen but with rooms at strange angles in strange shapes, and details that were always shifting just a little. He once again started walking through this house as though he'd been there many times before, straight to where he somehow knew the kitchen would be. Two faces greeted him there. One was familiar, his mother, eating another strange food he'd seen but couldn't identify. But the other wasn't anyone he knew. It wasn't really anyone. More of a vague, mouthless mass of a being, an anthropomorphic body seemingly controlled by robotic parts. It tilted it's head to look at the child, but there were no features on its translucent blue flesh. Surreal was the perfect word to describe the scene. The child took a wide circle around the… Thing that sat in the kitchen and hopped up onto a seat next to his mother.

“Mom? What’s going on? What is that thing? What are you eating? Where are we?”

The dream Fiona laughed, but it sounded hollow, artificial. “Full of silly questions aren’t you?” The house was a mishmash of rooms he had seen before, distorted in his imperfect memory and further by the normal distortion of a dream. It felt familiar, like it was almost home. Almost.But Fiona was important to home, and this wasn't her. It was more like a caricature of the two Fionas he knew scrambled together and stretched. She wasn't ugly by any means, but everything about this room and this person felt like they shouldn't have existed. And that blue thing was just looming, watching with a blank face from a distance. In his normal style, Faolán ran. Ran into some kind of adjacent long hall he somehow knew his way through - an amalgam of the castle halls. What wasn't familiar was a quiet clacking, squishing sound, and through that door he had just left, there was that thing. Peaking it's head out and slowly walking forward, in a totally natural yet entirely unnatural gait. He ran as fast as his little paws could take him, but fear was starting to distort whatever this was even further. Did it get bigger? Was it taller, maybe a little faster? This was like nothing he'd seen before, and he dearly wished he hadn't. Out of nowhere, his mother called from far away.

“Faolán ~ Faolán why are you running? Don’t you wanna say hello? Faolán~ Faolán ~ FAOLÁN!!”

The last shout was the ghost Fiona who had woken him up once she saw he was having a nightmare. She hugged him as best she could.

“Shhh… Its okay… I’m here.. It was just a bad dream.” Right then, the wolf was running on a mix of adrenaline and fear. It wasn't scary in a normal sense, instead leaving him completely unnerved, on edge. The ghost was trying to hug him, and it was clear that she was trying to comfort him. But her faint embrace would only make things worse. "No... No!" He yelled, jumping away from the ghost and stumbling towards the door in a fit of confused anger. "You're not my mom! You're NOT!!!" Where was his mom?! She always stayed up late, maybe downstairs? Maybe it was in that living room again? The steps pattering along the cold stone floor and his nervous panting were lost on the sleeping castle residents, yet he could swear he heard a step that wasn't there! Was it that- No, it couldn't be! But the fear was there, list there was something following him, and he sped up. Speeding down the stairs, making a beeline right for that living room they always spoke in. The door creaked open, letting out no light. "M-mom?" He said, stepping in nervously. His eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he couldn't see anything. He was just left alone in a dark room, with the unshaking feeling something was chasing him. Scourge and Fiona had vacated the room long before, leaving the fox’s cell phone behind in their haste. The ghost knew Faolán would panic even more, so she flew upstairs into the bedroom where the two had fallen asleep.

The ghost shook Fiona a little, but when that didn’t work she was hesitant to … Well she had no choice.

The ghost shook Fiona awake. “Wake up! Wake up! Can’t you hear your own son calling for you?” She hissed, trying to make the form that Fiona could see less person-like and more of a vague spirit. She wasn't awake enough for words to even register, and swatted away whatever was in front of her. Through tired vision, the blur of a specter just turned into a mass of colors that could be mistaken for some kind of groggy delusion. "Can't you hear your son calling..." Those words finally started to register. Was he in danger? She hurried to get out of bed, grabbing her clothes quickly and stepping out into the hall. "Faolán?" She asked. But the long hall didn't sound of anything, aside thequiet sound of some kind of television. It sure sounded fine. "Fao, are you alright?" When the door was opened, she had to take a moment for it to sink in. Faolán was gone. Scourge didn’t hear anything, but he felt his bedmate leave and got up as well, throwing on pants.

“He’s probably gone for a snack, come on,” he insisted, walking down to the kitchen. The ghost followed, finding Faolán covering in a corner of the living room. They wouldn’t see him on their way to the kitchen!

She faded completely, even Faolán unable to see her, and started knocking bottles off of the bar shelf.

“The bar?” Scourge asked, allowing Fiona to lead the way. He couldn't help but duck and cry. Whatever was following him was clearly trying to attack him, and he had no way to fight back. He was trapped. He was trapped. The light flicking on was a major scare for him, but seeing his mom rushing towards him relieved him just a little. Just enough to run up to her and cry into his mom's hug. She didn't even know what to say to him. "You're safe, Faolán, no one is going to hurt you." This didn't seem to null his fears. All Fiona could think to do was pick up her son and sit on the couch, letting him cry as much as he needed. "What happened, Fao?" "I- I had a dream, and-" He sniffled and cried the whole while, not able to say more than a few words at a time. "And then they were chasing me, and I woke up, and they were- they were still chasing me!" The king, still exhausted from his earlier ‘exercise’ with the fox, rubbed his face. The poor kid much have been terrified to have run behind the bar.

He walked over to the mess and started cleaning the glass away, them mopping up the alcohol. Odd. If Faolán had run back here, wouldn’t he have had to step in the liqueur? But the floor was clean.

The king looked over at the shaking child and grew concerned, but merely snapped a photo on his phone of the spill and then cleaned it all up.

From the shadows, the ghost queen cried, upset with herself for scaring him more. "Buddy, there isn't... that might have been us." Fiona said, comforting the child. "There's no one here who can hurt you, I wouldn't let anyone get that close to you." But the child was still crying. "I wanna- I wanna see dad...!" The more quiet ways Fiona protected him didn't stick in his mind as firmly as the brute force Scourge tended to scare people away with. It took Fiona a moment to think of what to say. "Baby, he's not here right now." She told him, doing her best not to sound desperate. "But the king is here, and we can always call your dad." "I don't want the king here..." The words came out of nowhere, slapping Fiona in the face with their bluntness. "I'm sorry?" "I don't WANT HIM HERE! He's not my dad, I hate him!!!" The king couldn’t stop his ears from flicking back as the child screamed he feelings out to the world. The ghost queen grew angry and the room grew cold.

The king quietly left the room, stopping at the door. “I’ll call Castillo and see what I can do.”

The alternate was called and Scourge fiddled with a warp ring. “Hey, Faolán had a nightmare and he’s not calming down. He wants to see you.” "Huh?" The alternate sounded groggy. "Fuckin' hell... Alright, get the warp here." He didn't waste a second, running straight into the room as soon as he passed through the warp. Fiona was too stressed out to feel anything more than annoyed at Scourge's entrance, but it was what Fao wanted. "I'm here, kid, it's me." The wolf had barely turned his head when Scourge was already sitting down. If it weren't such a stressful night, he would have been thrilled. But all this meant was he had someone else to cry with and keep him safe. "Dad, there's- There's someone following me through the castle, and I woke up, and they were still-!!" "Hey, no one's gonna hurt you." Scourge told him. He was actually hugging the little boy, not caring about looking soft for once. His crying was slowing down, but he was far from comfortable. "You wanna watch some TV, kid? Stop thinking about this crap?" With a nod of the little wolf's head, Fiona was already searching for whatever channel would be playing kids cartoons past midnight. The king left them to their bonding, feeling just a little bit hurt. He didn’t know why. Fiona would always choose Faolán over him, and could respect that. But he had been nothing but nice to the wolf, and he was still hated.

The ghost queen, still quite upset, followed her husband out. She couldn’t let him see her, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t try to help.

Scourge cleaned up his room, folding Fiona’s clothes and returning them to the bedroom she and Faolán shared. He shut and locked his door for the night and thought back to his own wife and child.

“Maybe it was for the best… I would be a shitty dad,” he thought aloud and then rolled over to get some sleep. The little boy was starting to calm down as he clung to his dad and watched some young children's show. The normal silence of the castle felt even quieter somehow late at night, almost eerily so. The scared little boy had two parents to help him through a rough night, and he was starting to calm down. Slowly, bit by bit. Until he was sleeping against his father, Scourge himself dozing off not soon after. She wanted to move him so Scourge couldn't hurt him, but his unconscious arm around the child swatted her off in his sleep. All she could do was drape a blanket over the kid and turn off the lights. "Good night," she murmured. The king's door was locked from the inside, and faint snoring could be heard through the door. So much to talk about, and no one to talk to. In her tired state, she went to her room to get a piece of paper, and slipped a note beneath the king's door. "3rd floor balcony walkway - 9 AM - We should talk" At 9 am the next morning, the balcony walkway was much chillier than usual. The king had grabbed them both a coffee and waited for Fiona to arrive

Of course, Ghost Fiona was there as well, and several other ancient ghosts, who had been watching it all unfold.

He half expected the living Fiona to ditch him, leaving him waiting on the balcony alone while she went to work or fought with Castillo. He hid his surprise when she shows up, and merely offered her the coffee. A small container of milk, cream and pot of sugar were left for her. The coffee itself was untouched. His own little payback, he knew how she liked her java, but he was still a little resentful for no good reason. "I'll get Fao to apologize for what he said," she started. Only a small amount of cream was poured in - she didn't seem to mind, she felt more in control this way. "He's... just a kid. He's a kid who was scared, I don't think he really knows what that means. Scourge is eating breakfast with him, but he's still scared." But that wasn't what she brought him up there to talk about. If she had known there was a small number of ghosts watching, maybe she wouldn't have spoken, but it was a question that needed to be asked. "You've been different." Chilled breezes only made the warm coffee in her hands more comfortable to hold. "You've been kissing and hugging me more lately. You remember what you said last night before we fell asleep?" He probably did, but just in case. "You called me beautiful. I could feel your heartbeat getting faster, too." The cup was slowly put down back on the table. "Do you... need to tell me something?" “Don’t. Faolán needs to learn that while outbursts aren’t productive, they need to happen. It just doesn’t feel good when a little kid doesn’t like you, you know? Makes me wonder what kind of person I am, if a little kid thinks I’m awful.”

Her sudden change in topic surprised him, and but shrugged slightly. They weren’t quite ready for that deep of a talk. Not after the most important person in her life made it clear he despised the king.

“Just looking for a little attention is all. You don’t usually instigate. And of course I remember, I meant it. I mean, its not like you didn’t already know.”

Clearly there was more to be said, but the king didn’t know where the line was. Where did she want him to stop, what statement would make her shut down? He didn’t know. Didn’t want to push it. He was growing closer. Much closer than Fiona had planned on. Spending time with the king was always nice, but this wasn't the way she cared about him. And what would Scourge do if he ever heard what she thought the king felt? Fiona didn't know either, and she didn't want to get an answer. She didn't even want to keep talking about it. Another long sip of coffee. "We're driving him mad," Fiona admitted. "He needs to see his dad more... and you less. But Scourge has lashed out before, I don't know how to keep him safe. And he sure can't be near Aria, whenever she comes back." If her nose was any more scrunched at that line, it would fold into her face. She put her hand on the king's shoulder, careful not to graze him with her claws. "You're a good guy. But we shouldn't sleep together for a while. It's for Faolán, alright? It's the best we can do for him." “I completely understand. Faolán is still young, he needs you two more than anyone else right now.”

He drew closer physically and stole a kiss on her mouth. A quick one, and his blush afterwards was bright.

"Sorry… Figured I’d grab one for the road." he joked, trying to bring some humor into the conversation. The tone was too serious. He had to pretend it didn’t hurt as much.

“Yeah… Well her and Terra got back from their honeymoon two nights ago. Maybe we should have her talk to Castillo tonight. Maybe you can take Faolán to a movie? I don’t think you want him around those two right now.” She didn't react too much to the kiss. She was barely surprised, and almost seemed to brush it off like she was annoyed. "Let me see what I have on my schedule." While Scourge couldn't see what Fiona was reading, how much she was scrolling through her messages said that it wasn't a negligible amount, and a tense expression as she got further down the list only hammered in that point. "I'll see who I can get to cover for me," Fiona said. not making any promises. Words had gone cold again, her face back to her default sternness. She tilted her head. Even with her eyes closed, it seemed like she was gazing into Scourge and silently judging. "And how are you going to restrain Scourge tonight?" “He’s not going to attack Aria. And even if he does, she’s going to cut him into ribbons. Manic and Terra and I will be around to control him somewhat. And if you can’t get the night off, we can always have Terra or Manic watch him.”

His ears flicked back, ashamed of himself, and he shifted away from her. He was always fucking up around her. She was always annoyed with him. It was a plan. His common sense had put together a solid plan, but Fiona wasn't totally convinced. She didn't have the time to dwell too much on it, her phone immediately getting a text. And another. A few shot back at her in fact, and she ran down the list of names. "...I've dropped most of my tasks for the day." She said. Her body deflated in the chair. This only left club maintenance and orders, legals on the hotels, and auditioning entertainers. A very easy day. "I need to- spend time with him anyways." This judgement towards Scourge was gone from her eyes. "I'll send someone to help protect you anyways," she said, "I don't want any of you to get hurt." She didn't give that a moment to sink in, immediately standing and walking for the door. "Thanks for the coffee." She was gone again, down to do whatever business she had. Later that evening, Aria and Terra had come to the castle for dinner. Castillo was an unexpected surprise, and Aria's jovial mannerisms dimmed.

However you couldn’t be sad for long when Faolán showed up. The ball of innocence and joy was scooped up into a hug. “Oh I missed you munchkin!"

Terra laughed, ruffling the pup’s hair and then turning cold when Castillo tried to say something to Aria. "Hey." Nothing more, just hey. He tried to put on a smile seeing his son like this, but he couldn't even look up at Aria. Whatever was going to happen to him, it was going to hurt. "Ariaaaa!" He pretended to be annoyed, pushing her hands from ruffling his orange fur. "We're gonna go see 'Princess Rosella's Magic Whirlpool!'" Fiona was standing in the doorway, happy but slightly dreading a movie that looked like it was animated on a budget of about five dollars. "He's been missing you both," Fiona said, pointing the words straight for Castillo. The girls set him down and Aria gave the boy a wrapped box.

“We were on vacation all over the place, and found this for you.” In fact, everyone received a gift. Faolán got a region exclusive case for his handheld, Manic got a pair of drumsticks, with a design of musical notes and scores hand carved into them. Fiona received a necklace, her favorite jewel the accent on the golden pendant depicting a F. The king received a locked titanium briefcase and a hug. Castillo, the only one left. He was given a leather jacket, made of quality but lightweight material.

“For the summer.” Was all Terra said, clearly still glaring at the hedgehog, but only subtly. She didn’t want to make a scene around Faolán.

The king took the case and left the room with Sergio. They returned a few minutes later without the case. The jacket hurt more than any insult could. The sheer humility of it was enough to make Scourge's guts twist. "Thanks," was all he could say, the words carrying new meaning as the gesture ripped away his pride for a short while. "You shouldn't have," Fiona said, graciously accepting the gift. Perhaps not her taste exactly, but she always needed new clothes anyways. Manic and Faolán seemed like they were having a contest to see who was more excited about their particular gift, and each was happy to give Aria a hug. Or in Faolán's case, her legs a hug. "What, you buttering us up to get you REALLY good weddin' presents?" Manic teased. "Nah, really man, you're too nice, thanks a ton." The hug was more to give Scourge time to fold the jacket and leave it on the side table. Looking at it was only going to remind him of his own failures, and Manic needed to give him space. The jacket was meant well, and Terra was reprimanded by Aria, mumbled in a quiet, rushed tone. It wasn’t supposed to be something vicious. It was all kept quiet, and Faolán was unaware of it all, too distracted by Manic.

Manic's statement made Aria roll her eyes. “Haha. No. Why bother with wedding presents?” She shrugged.

Time passed quickly and soon it was time for Fiona and Faolán to leave. Aria gave Faolán a tight hug goodbye. She really had missed him, and she wasn’t sure if Castillo would allow her anywhere near him if he was so pissed off about a present. Pissed off... it certainly looked that way, maybe even dismissive of the gift, but he seemed just as ashamed at his place at the table. Anger wasn't there - or at least, not as much as she first thought. Manic sat down next to his husband. The king and Manic were on either side of Scourge, and he was sitting directly across from Aria. There was no doubt why they were there now. "I think it's time you guys figure this mess out," Manic said, patting his husbands hand. Scourge just stared back, his face creeping towards anger. And a blush. Actually, he looked downright pissed as he held his head in his hands, looking down at the table in total shame. This wasn't an anger focused at Aria, this was entirely pointed right at himself. He mumbled something, but the words were illegible. “What is there to say?” Was all the hedgie asked, curious to see what the two green hedgehogs thought was going to happen.

“I mean really. He destroyed my home, and then his actions got your -” she pointed at the king, “- reputation ruined. And you think flowers I’m allergic to and a heartfelt apology are gonna make up for that? Because you couldn’t let Fiona go, because you had to have her fixate on you, you put yourself in the spotlight and almost got me and my wife killed. You’re real fucking stupid Castillo. And so are the two of you if you think that an apology is worth my time.”

Dinner was served and Aria pushed her plate away. Suddenly losing her appetite. His heart rate increased, his breathing got tense. Everything about Castillo implied that he was getting worse and worse the more Aria said, pounding home points that he had already nailed into his skull. Regret was just multiplying, and Scourge was doing everything he could to stop it from turning into anger. "What's it gonna take." The words would have sounded pissed if he wasn't so visible terrified. He looked up, clearly restraining himself. "What the hell else was I supposed to do, nothing? I wanted to save your life, kid, I just- I couldn't!" Anger only fueled desperation. "There was fucking nothing I could do! I tried investigating and coming in to get those assholes, I'm trying everything over here! What's it supposed to take?!" One fist slammed on the table as he tried to hold back horrified frustration. "I don’t know what’s its gonna take, maybe we need to physically fight, who knows? I sure as hell don’t! Hell, I don’t even understand the logic that got us to this point? All I know is that I’m not going to forgive you just like that. It's going to take time. And fuck you two for thinking anything different. I’ll be civil for the sake of Faolán but that is it.”

She got up from the table and left the room, headed for the back garden. Terra followed her wife, glaring at Castillo.

“Well… That wasn’t totally useless.” Was all the king said, thinking. “I mean… Maybe duking it out would help you both. If we get Damian on standby maybe you two can relieve some stress.” Castillo was just cringing in fear. He sure as hell didn't want to fight Aria, there was no good scenario there. But Manic was thinking differently. Far, far from how these two were. "She thinks this all comes from... from you needing attention," Manic said. "Like, the kidnapping, I mean." "Don't remind me..." "That's not what I'm saying." He held his head in thought. "Yeah, Radon joined in, but wasn't he just there as like a last minute change? And like, he wanted to trade out Aria for him, right?" He was spinning his spare hand around as he spoke to keep him thinking. "But like... Aria wasn't even brought up in those tabloids. How the hell did Chrissy and Bobtail know where to look for Aria?" “… Didn’t Chrissy work for Rosolio? Aria's employee information would have been on file… But those files are sealed. And how did she know to get to Fiona?”

The room was silent again. The three boys thinking. The king thought of something, but didn’t dare speak it aloud. Fiona… Fiona couldn’t be involved, could she? No. She cared for Aria too much and wouldn’t put Faolán in danger. But then again, she was an amazing actress. Regardless the king stayed silent. Thinking.

Aria and Terra were in the garden, snuggling on a bench as they looked up at the stars. Oblivious to the men inside and their conversation. If they knew their stars, maybe they could identify a few constellations. The lily, the cannon, the nautilus all twinkled invisibly above them. But to them, it was just a wide field of stars to relax and contemplate under, not that they wanted to contemplate. They wanted to stop thinking. Stop thinking about Scourge and live their lives. Manic and Castillo were definitely trying to think at that moment, Manic speaking through their dinner before it got cold. "I'm just saying," Castillo said, "Fiona's men are ace with security, I don't think it'd be that easy to get in. Not to mention getting old Rosie's files." "Bobtail screwed up the emergency stairs security, he carried one of 'em back down, and Chrissy took the other out the window." Manic was toying with his fork while he tried to speak. "We already heard all that. But how'd they even know she was at Fiona's place?" "We saw 'em on camera, they broke into her place and tried to talk to you." Scourge said. "Someone had to be giving them info!" “Aria mentioned a bull that was waiting at the bus stop. She said that she assumed it was security of Fiona’s but what if it wasn’t? What if that guy told those two?”

It was worth looking into and the king started a small investigation into the matter. Very quiet. A two man job. For now though, the king drank his wine and swirled it in his glass. Not thinking. Trying not to think.

No one wanted to think. No one wanted to try anything of the sort. Not Aria, not Terra, and not Scourge. They did their best to eat. Do something, stay happy, try not to get too somber. There was one thing they could count on to bring them a little joy, and they could hear his tiny footsteps clopping down the hallway. "Hey, squirt." Scourge said, trying to act casual but silently thrilled to see the little boy. He was still clutching to an oversized cup of orange soda. Even with his orange fur, they could just tell he'd spilled plenty on himself. "So come on, kid, tell me about it." Scourge said. He peaked over, watching Fiona leave to get something at the bar before whispering. "And tell me if you took my advice." He didn't even need to explain. Faolán silently reached into his jacket, pulling out two boxes of sour gummies and one box of chocolate caramels he absolutely did not pay for. "Atta boy." He wasn't worried about the king or Manic seeing, as they were silently distracted by something on Manic's laptop. An IM chat with Damian, as a matter of fact. "The orange boy returned, can you think about it some more? You said you recognized her, anything you can remember would help." Damian’s respond was short. Nothing about the bull at the bus stop made any sense to him. He suggested asking Fiona and Aria. Maybe even Faolán. Soon, Aria and Terra rushed into the room laughing like children, drenched from head to toe.

“Okay, so who turned the sprinklers on outside?” Aria said with a laugh, clearly not angry. Terra left and reappeared with some towels for them to dry off with.

“Oh hi there munchkin! How was the movie?” She asked, bending down to Faolán’s eye level for a hug. "It was great!" Fao said. He was sitting around so many people who he cared about at once, he couldn't help but wear a massive smile. "It was really pretty, and the songs were really nice, and...!" Fiona plopped down in a chair next to the king. She had a glass of wine in her hand, and looked as though she had survived a war. "You could count the frames of animation," she groaned to him so Fao wouldn't hear. "...and there was a cool town with bright colors and a really funny dog, and...!" "I couldn't tell you where the jokes stopped and the convoluted plot began." She took a long gulp. She was going to need more than one glass. The boxes were safely stashed with Scourge, but he couldn't help opening one box of sour gummies right there. "You wanna candy?" He asked Fiona and Terra, holding out the box after cramming a few in his mouth. “You had leftover candy? That’s not like you at all munchkin, are you feeling okay?”

She checked him for a fever and politely declined the candy. However she noticed that there was no ‘proof of purchase’ sticker on the box. The theaters liked to slap those on any candy that was bought to show it was their product. And they never forgot.

“Faolán sweetie. Did your mom buy those for you?” She asked, using a slightly more inquisitive tone than usual. Terra stopped what she was doing and looked nervously over at Fiona, who was already being poured a second glass of wine by the king. Then the bat glared at the two green hedgehogs. "That was all me," Scourge said, not missing a beat. "Thought things'd be tense, went out and bought him a little something to distract him." Not something that could really be proven wrong, especially since he'd never admit he sat in the van and yelled at himself in anger after dinner. He reached under his jacket and pulled out the second box of gummies, leaving the chocolates right where they were. "Figured he'd be pumped full of sugar anyways, what's a little extra gonna hurt?" Aria didn't look like she was buying it. Manic didn't look like he even realized what was going on, too caught up in looking up reviews to see just how bad that movie was. Faolán ate a few more gummies, just rolling with the lie. "Can we get some- some 'poison sludge' next time?" Not a request for a lethal poison, but for some sour candy. Scourge just grinned and pointed his thumb behind him. "We can get some right now, if you're up for getting outta here." I.E., 'Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, give me an excuse to leave before Aria casts her unholy vengeance on my soul.' Aria looked over at Scourge. Then at Manic. Then at Faolán. Then at her wife. Then at Fiona, who was eyeing the bottle of wine again. Then back to Faolán.

Oh she wasn’t buying it. Not at all.

“Faolán sweetie. Look at me. Where did you really get those candies?” She asked, seemingly calm. But Scourge could see the glare she shot at him and the tenseness of her shoulders. Faolán would not be yelled at. But Castillo was not as lucky.

It was all riding on Faolán right now. And Aria hoped she was wrong.

If Terra wasn’t blocking the door, he would have ran.

"Guys..."

The voice that spoke up wasn't Scourge or Faolán. Manic was looking over, head in his hand and looking exhausted at the news. "Scourge is an ass, but he's just trying to protect him, y'know?" Manic said with a grimace, genuinely believing what he was saying. "If he's picking this stuff up off of anyone, it's me. I know it. You know it."

The little wolf's ears were lowered in shame, knowing what he did was wrong. Rather, knowing being caught felt bad. Scourge's heart may as well have broken at the sight.

"Don't protect me," He said, "We know what's up here." Scourge resigned himself to his fate, if it was for his child's well being. "I went out and lifted this crap for him, he didn't do anything."

But Faolán's face belied all. Scourge leaned up to give his son comfort, knowing Aria would not give him another chance any time soon.

Thank the stars Fiona had downed half the bottle. The king had carried her off to bed so she wouldn’t skin Castillo alive. Aria rubbed the bridge of her nose and sat down. “Okay Faolán. Come here for a second. I’ve got a story for you.”

The child walked over and Aria sat him in her lap. “I shouldn’t have to tell you stealing is wrong. You can hurt a lot of people like that honey. Maybe not with candy but I don’t want to see you get caught up in things that will get you in serious trouble. When I was 10, I stole some things too. I admit it. But Faolán I was living on my own and unable to afford food. I needed that stuff to survive. And I got caught. And I got in a lot of trouble. And I was almost sent to jail. Granted I was in a very slummy area of a less developed city and they didn’t always follow the law, but that’s beside the point. I don’t want you stealing again, okay? And I don’t want you to steal just because your fathers or anyone else asks you to. Not unless its life or death. Do you understand munchkin?”

Faolán nodded, and Aria continued, petting him gently and trying to be stern but gentle.

“Now. I won’t tell your mother, because I know you aren’t going to do it again. But if it ever happens again, I will. I don’t want you to feel the need to steal things either. If you want something, ask one of us, okay?” Faolán was sheepishly holding his hands together. "I'm sorry" was all he could say. "I just... I really wanted some, and mom didn't want me to have 'em, and-" "You don't gotta explain anything," Manic assured the child. "We understand." ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ "You don't understand." Scourge was definitely angry at Aria, but he was restraining himself. Thankfully, they were out at the van, and Fao was safely inside and out of earshot. "I already taught him- He's learning guitar already. I wanna teach him something, and this is all the crap I know! I can't teach him bartending and I can't have him doing anything violent, that's all I've got to teach him!" “And breaking the law is a better option?!? I understand wanting to bond with Faolán but come on!! Use your brain! Did you want Fiona to take him away? You need to think ahead!”

She scolded him, eternally more pissed off than he was.

“Do you want Faolán to be where I was? He’s the son of a major crime boss and a scourge, the cops will NOT go easy on him if he gets arrested. Kids like him get shot all the time because the world sees them as carbon copies of their fathers or their mothers.” "I KNOW!" Scourge's attempts to hide the intensity had failed, but he wasn't yelling at Aria. His screams were more generalized, mostly aimed at his own stupidity. "I know, I know! I'm tying to teach this crap so he knows how NOT to get caught! I don't want him to be a big thief, I want him to- to know how to hide, and-! I'm just an asshole who doesn't know what to do!" At this point, most of his masculine facade had decayed, leaving him looking like he was going to fall into a kneel and scream. Manic silently took him and dragged him away, opening the back of the van and leading him in before anything happened to him. His husband left to his self loathing in the van, Manic leaned against the side of the van facing the still fuming Aria. "He doesn't like people seeing him cry." What else could he say? To distract from himself, distract from what his nephew did? "I don't want him doing this stuff either, but... you don't see how much Scourge hates himself for not doing more for him. It's... pathetic." Aria rubbed at her temples, squinting her eyes shut.

“Listen… Scourge and I are fighting. I get that. He’s not happy with anything about the scenario and I am not either. But he needs to think ahead Manic, what if Faolán gets caught one day? The justice system is not kind. Not to children, and not to sons of crime bosses and thieves. Faolán could be put in a lot of danger. If he wanted to do something for Faolán, he can try literally anything. Even if he learns some new skill, just to teach Faolán. But this is not the way you do it. He’s far too young for that sort of thing” Manic could only nod and think. He knew all this. He knew hearing it was going to hurt. All he could do was sit and accept the awful sting, cringing at some of the lines. "You're totally right, man." His whole body deflated in an instant. "We're all scared for him. We're just... We're just dealing with it in a real stupid way." He could only throw his head back. "He doesn't deserve that kind of life. He ain't done anything wrong." “Tell… Tell Scourge I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just worried and stressed…”

She curled into herself, shoulders huddled. She couldn’t say anything more, so she turned around and left. The bat waited on the castle steps and slowly kissed her wife, hugging her close.

“It’ll be fine… I promise.” Two people uttered those words in that house. The second being Fiona, sitting with her son and the king. Faolán was suddenly racked with guilt, his face red and looking like he was on the verge of tears. "You admitted it and promised to stop. That's more than your dads ever did." The little wolf was being coddled close to her chest, hoping he wasn't going to burst into tears. "I'll look past punishment just this once, alright?" He nodded, happy but still scared. "Bu- but what if the police come and... and take me to jail?!" Another coddle to the child. "The police won't come after you. I promise." In reality, Fiona wasn't too surprised by this. She's seen her son sneaking around the house and 'stealing' things, but it was never anything more than maybe a few pieces of candy or loose change, small things that she really wasn't concerned about losing. It was no doubt where he picked it up from. The idea of them teaching Fao was definitely planted in her head, but even she found it a bit ridiculous. They wouldn't be dumb enough to do that to her kid, right? Oooh they most surely were dumb enough. Scourge knew it. However he valued Manic's life and Faolán's happiness so he said nothing about it.

As the king, he could make it all go away. But Faolán was only 6, far too young to be charged with anything. He sat there, feeling awkward and useless. "But you aren't getting away this easily," Fiona warned her son, stern but not angry. "You still have someone you need to apologize to." He looked confused for a moment, until his mother motioned for the king. For something he said days ago? But he wasn't in any position to argue. He did feel like he really didn't like the king, those words were all true to him. So why did he feel so guilty? "I'm sorry," he said. "And what are you sorry for?" "I'm sorry I said I didn't like you." He looked ashamed. Maybe it seemed mean, but he needed to learn the consequences of his actions. "It was mean." Scourge patted the kid on the head. “It's okay buddy. If I were you I wouldn’t like me either. However I’m pretty sure its past both of your bedtimes.”

He was teasing Fiona and joking with Faolán, clearly trying to a laugh out of either. Its was late and he knew the drowsiness from the wine would hit Fiona like a truck. He got up and gave a little mock bow to Fiona.

“Sweet dreams the both of you.” Scourge was totally understanding. It was almost suspicious how calm he was about Faolán's actions, but Fiona was a cautious woman. Faolán didn't read that deep, only seeing the good of what he said. "Good night." The little wolf was the first to say it, mostly to end this uncomfortable talk sooner. The evening had been horribly tense. Everyone needed a rest. But even as angry as Aria was, she didn't need a rest as much as Scourge did. "Babe, we'll figure this mess out." A kiss on Scourge's lips and closeness was the best think Manic felt he could give to his husband. "Maybe if he's still here tomorrow, you could take him to a different movie. Or to the park or whatever. If someone else comes along, I mean." That was a very big 'if,' they both knew that, but there was still a chance, right? Maybe Scourge would have to come along, maybe Fiona would put him in handcuffs while he was out, but the sooner he could resolve this mess, the better. The fact they were sleeping in the van so Aria wouldn't have to see them didn't make quick forgiveness seem likely. "Maybe," Scourge replied, clinging to something. Aria was leaning on Terra. Everything was tense and awful. She hated it. The bat kissed her ears gently and cooed, trying to make her mate smile. It didn’t work. Not even rambling about the perfect house they had created in their minds would calm her.

In the morning, someone knocked at the van door. Surprisingly it was Aria. Even though it was rather early (and least for them) she still looked like she had been up for hours.

“Can we try… Making up again?” She asked quietly. Embarrassed and upset. The sight of Aria made his guts wrench, even through groggy eyes. Scourge was wearing some old tank top that was clearly just worn when he was sleeping. Was she honestly offering some form of forgiveness? Not without work, but still, he was almost handed the chance to make things right somehow. "...where we gonna talk?" Scourge said, stretching his arms. "Let's make it somewhere with coffee." He was a good actor, sure. But even still, nervousness flickered on the edge of every motion. Manic smirked in his 'sleep.' Let them think they were alone, and let them patch things up. There was hope. She held up the takeout cups she had brought with her. “Figured you’d say that… How about a walk in the garden? It's quiet there.”

She was just as nervous and actually looked a little off color. Slightly green, but she only seemed nervous, not sick.

“I’m.. I’m sorry.” "For what?" A pause was left so he could throw on his leather jacket. He didn't seem to care about grabbing his shoes, hopping off the van onto his paws. "I was an ass. I mean... everything. Everything I did was the worst." Attempts to stave off total self hate mostly worked, but his attempts to make the brush of his quills casual didn't look it at all. He happily took the cup meant for him and started throwing it back, before they had even begun their walk through the garden. "Where do I even fuckin' start...?" The grumble was low and strangely small for something out of his mouth. "You... got your old place fixed up. Right?" “Yeah, we’ve mostly packed. I’m going to miss that place… I’ve lived there since I was really young. The landlord rented to me at a reduced rate when I was a kid and saved my life. And now its just… Sad. But Terra and I can’t live there together, it was time for an upgrade… Thank you for all the flowers, by the way…”

It was silent but peaceful. In the morning light, everything was damp with dew and quiet. Tranquil.

“None of this was your fault you know…” "Pretty much is." Scourge didn't seem to buy that more a second. "All of it. Your home, the king's shit, And now all this crap with the kidnapping and-" He had to stop himself. It sounded like he was fishing for compliments now, and he didn't want to be too whiny. "I don't know how you don't want to punch me. I wanna punch myself." “I do want to hit you, but what good will it do? Other than make me feel slightly better. We need to talk this out because Faolán is suffering because of it…” The silence was awkward as Aria lasped off.

“Maybe we can just pretend we weren’t fighting at all?” She offered as a suggestion, clearly out of ideas. Scourge wanted to say yes and have it be done. Oh, he wanted everything to be better. But... "Around him, yeah. But we can't pretend crap's alright, it'll never work." He admitted. "You guys deserve better than some punk who pulls this crap, but you're... trying to make it up anyways." He pushed his quills back in humbled surprise. "If you're willing to do that, don't think we need to fake anything." It wasn't a major gesture, or wouldn't be from anyone else. But a hug from Scourge was rare. "I ain't soft," he told her, hoping that would somehow gloss over him acting completely soft. She hugged him anyways, laughing. “Bitch please. You’re a marshmallow.” Of course she was joking with him, and maybe wasn’t at 100% forgiveness, but it was better.

The atmosphere was less tense by the time everyone woke up. Terra had stolen her mate away for a bit, and the king looked over at Castillo.

“Did you two talk it out?” "I think, yeah." He was propping his head in his hand, looking quite tired. This was more an emotional exhaustion than anything physical, but his short, remorseful sleep sure wasn't helping things. He took a long sip of his coffee, contemplating everything. "If I hadn't run that chick over, we probably wouldn't be here." Remorse out of Scourge was always a flash or a spark that faded as soon as it appeared, never anything this long lasting. "Can't believe she even wanted to talk to me." "About that..." Manic was fiddling with his fingers. What he was nervous about was anyone's guess. "Radon's wife, Gamma? She had- there were two autopsies due to some kinda crap department stuff. The second guy was barred from practicing a few months back for forging results in other cases. Like, he was bribed to say results that weren't there. The first dude..." He swallowed. "The first dude said she died of a fall, and the car accident was after that. You... you were a patsy, man." Manic fidgeted and looked at the king. "Do you wanna tell him about the cat, or...?" “I checked Chrissy and Bobtail's finances. About three weeks before all of this started, they were paid a large sum of money, one of many transactions from different account for the same amount. Offshore accounts. But then, Bobtail started looking around for Aria and her file was lifted from Rosolio's belongings. They didn’t want Aria as a trophy. Whoever this is wants her dead.”

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Someones trying to kill Aria and we have no idea who they are.” "Bobs was an assassin." Scourge said quietly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back in thought. After what he did to Radon, he couldn't be too surprised, but the thought that Aria came so close to dying... "None of this is your fault, babe." Manic sat down next to him, putting one arm around his side. "It ain't even totally those two, either. There's something even worse going on than we thought." It looked like Scourge had suddenly been given a bolt of energy. "That's how I'll make it up to her," he said with pissed determination. "I'll find 'em and wring their neck." “More like you’ll find them and hold them down while she makes mince meat of them.” The king joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Out first plan is to track those accounts. Manic, you handle that. For now I’ll see if I can find anyone Bobtail had contact with who had the money to pull this off. And who would want Aria dead… It’s a short list”

The three set to work, rummaging through files, and throwing theory’s out for consideration. Aria pressed herself closer to the door frame for support, and Terra pulled her in closer.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe,” she whispered. This work was going to take a while. A long while, in fact, as they tried to find data on accounts that weren't supposed to have any data linked to them. And with Fiona out of the house, that left a little wolf up to his normal troublemaking ways. It usually would. But there was something different in the air this time. Things were still tense, but in a more unified way, as if they were fighting the same enemy rather than each other. As though a crushing pressure in the house was suddenly gone. Who was this enemy, no one knew. But Faolán heard just enough to want to fight whoever they were. "I will, too!" The little wolf seemed to show up behind them out of nowhere. His hands were already out, tiny claws extended. "I can fight them off for you!" Aria paled a bit as Terra laughed. The thought of endangering him was not something she wanted to have to think about. She scooped up the little one and snuggled him tightly. “Thank you sweetie. But I think your mom would have a problem with that.”

Inside, the king looked over the suspect list and grew confused over a question mark “Hey Manic? Who’s the question mark supposed to be?” He asked, holding up the list.

Aria snuggled into Terras hug, the two squishing Faolán a little bit. Aria laughed at his protests and kissed his forehead. “Faolán sandwich!” "I dunno, I was thinking..." Manic swiveled in his chair to face the king. "I'm thinking that like, there were already people that found Aria's family, right?" The polite way of putting what happened. "But we still don't know who they are... and we don't know how they found them, neither. That's kinda supposed to be a catch all for them." And then they heard the child's embarrassed giggling from outside. Scourge looked up, his paternal instincts triggered at the sound of his son laughing. "What's going on...?" He god up and rushed to the door, grinning at the sound. "Hey, you put him down!" Scourge said, only to immediately scoop his son up again. "He's mine to squish." This only got another laugh from the child, and a goofy ruffle of his hair from Scourge. Manic looked back from the open door towards the king. "I don't think a short break's gonna hurt," Manic said with a goofy, cheeky grin. “Hmmm… Good point. They weren’t ever caught so… But don’t tell her were looking into this. I wanna avoid the trauma resurfacing… You go take a break. I’ll keep at it.”

Aria protested the lack of Faolán squishies she was getting. "But that’s not fair," she pouted playfully, to which Terra stole a quick kiss.

"Stop being so cute,” the bat mumbled, clearly teasing her wife. Manic eventually joined them but the king just kept working. Everyone needed a chance to calm down after everything that had happened. The emotions still stung, and having someone like Fao around who was so innocent and happy was something they all needed. Even if Scourge and Manic would get back to work soon. Even if the stress of whoever was after Aria was still heavy in the air. Hell, especially because of the stress. But ever brake had to end, and they were soon back to their work. "Uuuuhg." Manic made a noise of total annoyance and sunk into his chair. "I'm trying to find anything on Aria's people for any hints on like, who did that to her, and like- there's nothing. We can't really peek into the past or anything, either..." "We can’t ask anyone either. We can’t bring it up to her, and Damian wasn’t even in the country when it happened… Why would someone want to kill all of those people? What makes someone order a genocide? What did they do to warrant this kind of treatment?”

The king grew frustrated, rubbing his temples. “Let’s have Fao ask to go back to the forest. Maybe there’s clues there. He can distract Aria, while we snoop around.”

He looked at the empty list of suspects and felt horrible. "Yeah, we'll go and..." Manic stopped mid sentence. The same awkward thought was shared through the room. "Uh, maybe Scourge should stay away from there?" He was missing a chance to see his son, but lord knows what would happen to him or his son if they went to her homeland after what he did. "I'll keep looking up these last few guys here..." He didn't give any blatant signs he was sad, but this newfound anger was more than enough to tell them what was going on. Manic huffed and walked up to his husband, hugging the grump from behind and giving a half goofy glare over Scourge's shoulder. "We'll get him out with you sometime, alright? Tomorrow, if this stuff goes well?" Scourge said nothing, but was definitely moved by the statement at least a little. Manic backed away and strolled back towards the door, whispering to the king, "he's always asking to go outside, this'll be a cakewalk." With very little bribing, Faolán followed the plan to the dot, begging Aria to go see the forest again. He even used the puppy dog eyes. Terra escaped as she had to go to work, leaving Aria to fight his adorableness alone.

“Oh fine! We can go! Just stop the eyes please!” She faked flopping onto her bed dramatically. Aria packed up her things, told Fiona where they were going and they were off.

“What else is there here?” Fao asked, holding Aria's hand and looking around the trees.

“Well there’s some flowers, the river… Some cool rocks.” She listed things that might interest him, but they came across of field of poppies and geraniums. For some reason Aria paled and stopped, choosing instead to lead Fao around the flowerbed quickly. His gazed focused on those flowers for a couple of seconds, but there was so much to see in the forest that he was easily distracted from it. Once again, he was rushing through the woods to look at whatever interesting thing Aria would show him next. Following behind were Manic and Scourge, walking at a slower pace and falling behind Aria intentionally. "Where should we start?" Manic said. "I mean the graveyard's obvious, but she's acting kinda weird with these flowers, right?" “This is a good place I think…” He walked around the flower bed and into some trees, returning seconds later after inspecting their surroundings.

“Okay, so I know that the giant field over there was where they lived. And the graveyard is to the west. But something doesn’t make sense, why are these flowers here? They don’t grow in this area, the soil is too acidic. Most soil is. Rosy loves geraniums so Glare tried to grow some for her, but it didn’t work.”

He picked a flower, one of the poppies, and inspected it. Something wasn’t sitting right. Manic squatted down, looking closely at the soil. He couldn't see anything on the surface. "Look, talking here as a criminal... dead things release some kinda gasses or something that switch up the soil." The exact science well eluded him, but he knew the very basics. "It might be a dead mole or whatever, but it kinda looks like a body dump to me." The moment hung, as well as the implications. "Aria's not the type," Manic said. "May just be some kinda dead animal or whatever... I dunno, maybe I'm dead wrong. What are you thinking?" “I don’t think so… I mean, this is a big field. How many bodies would it take? I mean at least a hundred, maybe more-”

The king stopped for a second and looked out onto the field, suddenly disgusted in its beauty. Dropping the flower in disgust.

“Aria mentioned her family was celebrating when the attack happened. This is near a river, and I bet that when night falls this area is right under a constellation of some kind. This is where they were killed. All of them.”

The blood of culture stained the ground beneath their feet, and the kings quills fluffed slightly, in the same way they did when he was angry. Their companions were too far ahead for them to hear. All that left was a view of a large field and a cold silence. Striking cold. Like the spirits were sitting right there, chilling the air with every haunting motion. Maninc stepped on the grass, but not where these flowers grew. Careful, silent tiptoes around the trees where the grass was lighter, shorter, less vibrant. "I don't think Aria could handle coming back here too much. Especially not if no one else comes back here." It felt like stomping there would be sacrilege, but if it would help them, maybe they could forgive. "You think there might be something left behind? A remnant of the festival, an... anything?" “No. In fact, I don’t think the forest wants us here… Does that make sense?” The king asked, backing away from the field.

Manic could see something shining in the middle of the field. Something metallic. While he creeped around the edges of the flower patch, the king sat down to think on a large rock.

“Maybe the graveyard. Maybe… And I’m hoping I don’t get attacked by a tree for this, maybe it was an inside job?”

The trees stood quiet. It was just a theory worth considering. "I guess it's like... has this place always been so protected?" Manic couldn't help but ask. His gaze over the field yielded very few rocks and pebbles. "If yeah, then that's probably true."

Before he could get an answer, his head rolled around to crack his neck. "Alright, tree guys, I'm not trying to disrespect you or anything, it's for your own good... I'll be quick, promise!"

Thieving skills weren't all specialized. His footsteps were virtually silent as he hopped over the field of grass and flowers, careful to step on the very few rocks when he could, and touching the grass as little as possible. Whatever that object in the field was, he had to grab it quick and back out of there.

“The way Aria explains it, it’s like the graveyard always was protected but the rest of the land wasn’t. She told me a story about how her brother got shot in the shoulder by poachers. And she used the word "poachers”. Maybe it was their land and people just didn’t notice? But that answers no questions, and raises more. I think the graveyard will explain some things. What did you find?“

It was a simple bracelet, covered in dirt but otherwise free from rust. Three charms were pristine, and once washed in the river, shone brightly. The fourth was black. Tarnished. Clearly damaged on purpose.

"I’ve seen one of those before. Aria has one. I don’t know what it means though, we have to ask her.” The king shrugged. Manic didn't even look at the bracelet until he was next to the king, and off of the bloody field. He wasn't dead. That was good. But once he saw the bracelet, he was distracted from that little fear. "Uh... This is really nice. Like, REALLY nice." Manic dangled the bracelet in the air and watched it sparkle. "This is silver... not sterling purity or anything, but it's still pretty nice. And look at these charms..." The charms were distinctly shaped and carefully crafted by some kind of expert. A ginkgo leaf with a round blue stone - "blue agate," Manic said in a second. He could also recognize the tiny rose quartz stones on the lotus and dandelion charms. The fourth charm, the blackened charm, was a sunflower with it's gem removed. "This one ain't tarnished, it's all scratched up, too." Whatever this was, it must have meant something, as a nearby tree was starting to move, yet didn't seem angry. Manic immediately chucked the bracelet back to the field, back to the grass, and watched the tree slowly revert to it's old position. "It's gotta mean something if the trees are keeping it safe..." Manic said. "I mean, it's kind of a big hint, right? That's really nice, so it must've been someone rich. And one blue stone, two pink, I'm guessing they had two daughters and a son. And I mean... Aria's kinda left a gallery of everyone who's lived here, right?" "Right… And judging by that fourth charm, we are looking for a fourth child too. They had big families here, according to Aria. Four is smaller than average. We should be able to find them, but we still need Arias help. There’s a lot of people”

Aria and Faolán return to the field to look for the two, and Faolán ran up to the two men. “Aria just showed me the coolest tree! Come and see it!” He insisted, pulling on his step-father’s hand. The stopped and spotted the shiny bracelet in the field, rushing into the field and grabbing it, presenting it to Aria. The aforementioned tree stood still, silent.

“What’s this? Is it yours?” He asked, and Aria bent down to inspect it.

“Well sweetie, its a bracelet. Usually they’re made of silver or gold, and usually ones like this are given to mothers. Each charm is a child. My mother had one just like it.” Manic had to act like he didn't know what the field was about, for Aria's sake. Faolán's discovery was the perfect excuse. He ran over the flowers, still careful not to trample any and looked at the little bracelet. This was too perfect. "Wooooah, man, that's sweet!" Manic said, looking at the bracelet with genuine looking wonder. "But maybe we should leave it. Y'know, someone's mom might want it back." Not necessarily untrue. Lord knows what tree beast might want to hurt Manic for that. "Oh, look, it's a weird leaf!" He loved seeing new types of plants. The various flowers he could vaguely recognize, but the fan shaped leaf was totally new to him. "Who was the weird leaf kid?" Aria sat down on the ground to inspect the charms, thinking. Which family was this? There were so many friends she had lost it was tough to find a name.

"Tonic. His name was Tonic. I didn’t know him very well. But of what I remember he had a crush on my oldest sister. Then again, everyone had a crush on my older sister… The sisters are Milia and Erro, they were constantly in the water. Makes sense, they are all otters… ”

She looked intently at the forth charm, sighing. “This one was Leo. He was… Well. A little odd. But he used to babysit me so I can’t be too mean about him,” she shrugged, giving it back to Faolán.

“Why don’t we go find Miriam, that’s their mother, and give this back?” That was better news than they could have ever hoped for. She actually knew the family? And was even willing to walk them to the gravesite, at that? This had to come with some kind of catch. It was a catch Manic was quick to catch on to, digging out some paternal instincts as usual. Manic motioned to hand the bracelet back to the wolf, and spoke quietly to Aria. "You sure we should show him that place?" Manic asked. "He's still super young, dude." "He’s already figured it out. Fiona told him when he asked her.” She scooped up the little one and they walked over to the tree that had been shaking earlier. Aria bowed to the gorgeous birch which twisted at an odd angle, and took the bracelet from Faolán.

“Here’s your bracelet back,” the child squeaked, and Aria slid the charm onto a bough of the tree. The tree herself straightened out. Bright blue eyes shimmered in delight at watching the tree almost make peace as it's bracelet was returned. There were so many cool trees in this forest, Faolán couldn't help but feel delighted at seeing another!

"Guys! Guys, there's this beach, and- And there's a bunch of trees in a row, and two of them are next to each other and growing together!" The things that could happen in his life felt limitless. This just seemed like another fascinating thing about the world. "Wooooah, really?" Manic said, acting like he hadn't seen the gravesite on the beach before. "You go running there, we'll catch up." They weren't lying. The three were walking down the paths he ran down, but the real purpose was to get Faolán far enough ahead that he couldn't hear Manic's question. "Hey, you notice that one really jank charm?" Manic asked. "You know what's up with that?" "Yeah. Leo was exiled. His father was on his deathbed, and he tried to sell the land that we were still living on at the time. The girls were never the same, and Tonic took up the ownership of the land instead. Then when all to this happened I was the only one left, so the land fell to me... Miriam died of a broken heart.”

Aria caught up to her nephew of sorts, scooping Faolán up as he rambled on about the tree to his step father. The king fell behind, texting the information to Castillo.

As they approached the trees, several rustled their leaves, clearly displeased with the conversation. Aria stopped talking. Manic turned around and walked backwards, doing his best to look apologetic for the trees. "Sorry, guys," he whispered, "we'll stop." Once out on the beach, Manic knelt by his stepson, listening intently as the child pointed out all kinds of details, from tiny scratches to totally obvious observations. His talking constantly brought up climbing the tree, something Manic was quick to shoot down, not wanting to be the victim of a tree spirit attack. Silently, a messaged buzzed back to the king. {Get me a last name, I'll look him up)

{I don’t know if I can. Trying to keep Aria out of this.)

"Please don’t climb the trees sweetie, you could get hurt.” Aria insisted, listening just as intently as Manic and answering all of the questions the little boy had. One of the trees was a peach tree, and she harvested a few, washing them in the river and giving one to the boys.

She used her claws to peel and cut the peach, happily eating it. The tree that Faolán had taken an interest in rustled its leaves. Clearly enjoying attention. "I think it likes you," Manic joked. Fao was the only one who didn't realize that this was exactly the case, but he was young. He was allowed to be naive about the supernatural trees. "Why didn't you show me this earlier...?" He said in a half whiny tone, not really angry at all. "Oh yeah, dad! There's a really cool place we found camping! It was- There's a place in the forest over- in there, and there are all kinds of fruit on the ground, and- and there are a bunch of beetle bugs eating them all!" They were certainly distinct types of beetles. Also the type that had a tenancy to fly straight towards people's faces. "Aria, can we go to the beetle place?" "Alright. But if the beetles wanna say hi to your face, that’s all on you munchkin.” She got up and walked with Faolán over to the beetle area.

“Hey, maybe in the fall when all the trees are making fruit , you can come and help me pick them all? We can make some jam from it all” she offered Fao and Manic.

Scourge pulled Manic aside. “We need a last name. But none of these trees are labelled… How on earth are we gonna find this guy? I don’t wanna ask Aria but…” Faolán and Aria were distracted enough to have a quick few words. The beetle patch could be heard chirping and making noises from a short distance, and already, a beetle with a metallic purple shine was flying straight at Fao's face. Rather than Aria's disgust, he was delighted at getting to see a bug up close, trying to catch it into his little paws and examine all the tiny details of the bug. "You go back and check that bracelet, maybe it's carved in there or something." Manic shrugged. "That's his mom, right? Maybe see if you can get her to write the name in the dirt with their roots or something? Uh... Just play along, act like you're gonna be noble and head back for me. I wanna stick with the little dude for a bit." Immediately, he was patting his head, down to his vest. "Craaaap, I think my earring came off." Manic said. Sure enough, the post in his ear was now empty. "I mean... I had it by the tree, I know! Uh, I'm gonna head back there and-" Aria raised a brow at the conversation, but at Manics statement about looking for an earring, she relaxed and watch Faolán try to catch a bug.

"I’ll get it dude, no worries” the king offered and walked back to the tree. He bowed to her, formally.

“My lady, could you help us? We think that Aria may be in danger. In fact, your son may be in danger too and he may not know it. We need to find him but we can’t without his full name.” The tree ruffled her leaves and pointed at her husband’s tree. An apple tree. The king looked a little confused.

An apple was thrown at his head.

“Okay! Guess its Apple?” More leaves rustling, another apple thrown. “Ow! Or… Wait a minute you guys don’t speak English… Okay, thank you!” Not English... what were all these names derived from again? Latin? The message was sent off to Castillo, and his search with this new information began again. Someone had to be out there, right? In a way, the king had to be thankful he didn't stay with the child, as there weren't any beetles curious about the random passersby approaching him. When he'd come back, Manic had had enough insects pelting his face, and the sight of Scourge running back was a more than welcomed sign. "You find it?" He asked casually, standing in front of Scourge so Aria couldn't see him passing off the earring to him. "Yeah, here. Man, Lady Miriam has some good aim.” He tossed Aria an apple and “gave back” the earring.

“The bugs must like you,” he joked, receiving a text from Castillo.

{I can’t find it. Try asking her what apple actually is)

“Hey Faolán, did you know Aria has her own language?” He started, motioning for Manic to play along. Fao seemed interested. "Riiight!" Manic perked up like he had just remembered. "Yeah, that's why we can't talk to like, the spirits here or whatever, they don't understand us talking. But they can understand Aria!" "Woooah, is it like a secret code?" Fao said. He was holding onto one particularly large bug, a gold-hued beetle with a long horn he wanted to keep. "What's the word for beetle bug?" "Its just a language sweetie. Just like English. Bug is cimex. And apple is malum. And adorable is venerandum”

She booped his nose playfully, clearly thinking nothing of the king’s sudden texting to Castillo. Hopefully that name would give them a hit in the national database.

As Aria rambled on, some of the trees rustled their leaves, clearly happy to hear her speak in that native tongue. They technically had what they came here for, but Manic's husband WAS on the case right then. They could definitely take a quick break to stop investigating and enjoy time with Faolán, who was not holding the golden beetle in his hands and petting it with one finger like it was a very small dog. "Oooooh, look at that little dude!" Manic said excitedly, kneeling down to look at the beetle. "You're trying to keep him, ain't you? Sweet, man, you got a cage for it?" "I can just- I can put it in a box!" He said, as though that was much of an answer to the problem. "And I'll give it water, and- what do they eat? Leaves?" Manic tilted his head to look at Scourge with a smile that belied he had absolutely no idea what beetles ate, and was desperately hoping Scourge had some kind of an answer. Aria stepped in. "Fao sweetie, I don’t think its a good idea. He’s probably got a little beetle family to take care of. It might be best for you to leave him here. We can always come back and visit him!”

The look she gave the boys hinted that something about the beetle made it a bad pet. Faolán put it down reluctantly.

“Okay aria… Bye beetle!” He waved and the bug burrowed into the soil at the base of a tree. Aria shivered a little. "Tell you what, buddy." Manic knelt down, pulling out his phone and pointing it at some of the beetles nearby. "I'll go to all kinds of pet stores, and see if I can't find any of these dudes for sale." Golden horned beetles. Shimmering metallic beetles. Beetles that almost seemed pearlescent. For a bug lover like Faolán, this was paradise. Even to a casual observer like Manic, this was a vaguely pretty assortment of screeching disgusting bugs. Faolán's little journey through the area was joined by all the other travel companions, having gotten what they came for. Anything that warranted anything from a "woah" to a "look!" was stopped at to satisfy his curiosity. Fao didn't need to be caught in all their drama, he was happy doing what he was going. And they were happy to be along for the ride. ◇        ◇        ◇        ◇ The results of Scourge's search had been laid out plainly for the other two hedgehog. "Nothing." Head in hand, Scourge sat, not sure what to say. "He appeared in the city when Ari would've been young, then his name never comes up again." "Did you search everywhere? Social media, job application websites, marriage certificates, name changing forms, death certificates?” The king asked, rubbing his chin. Where was this guy? You don’t just drop off the face of the planet.

Aria had carried Faolán upstairs and they thought she was still up there. Really she was hiding in the hall, listening to the boys talk. Why were they looking into a disowned teenager? What could he have done wrong?

“Don’t give up. We need to find this guy. Either he’s the cause of all this or he’s in danger.” Scourge huffed, looking at the computer screen again. "Didn't see any name changes from his last sighting, but someone was still paying rent on his old place." Manic and him were thieves, and they knew enough about these kinds of disappearances. "No deaths or marriages or nothing, neither. You ask me, he's going under a fake name." "Greeeeat." It was all Manic could think to say. "I mean... Alright, he was paying rent, so he was still in town, right? Maybe... Okay, this could be a long shot, but can you look up names that just appeared? He's a newbie at this stuff, he had to leave some kinda paper trail." His eyes sparked up. "Who was still paying rent? Who was living in that place after he 'left'?" Castillo checked and raised a brow. "Just one name. Insignis Satis… What does that mean?”

Aria stepped out from behind the wall. “It means "very noticeable”… What’s going on? Why are you guys looking into someone I think is dead?“

Terra was behind her, holding her waist. It looked comforting but it was for the boys' protection. There were many looks shared between the three of them. Looks of confusion, questioning, fear. The kinds of looks that only told Aria she wasn't going to like the answer. Manic only had to step forward for Castillo to interject with a "Wait, Manic." Manic wasn't deterred, she was worth learning the truth. "There's kinda a lot there. We've been looking at- Bobtail's an assassin. He was hired to kill you, but changed his mind for his own reasons." The words would hurt, but she deserved an honestly explanation. "We're looking at, like... We think he might know who hired Bobtail, but we can't find him." Not a dishonest answer, just not the full story. Manic's specialty. “Leo? You think a kid who probably doesn’t even remember me tried to have me killed? Why would he do that? I have nothing of value.”

Terra made a move to scold her wife but aria help her hand up for silence. “You know what I mean.” Whoops. Half lies had only gotten them so far, it was time to break out the big lies. "Look... We know when businesses are just crime fronts," Manic told her. "And before he just dropped off the map, he was hitting up a lot of them. Like... a LOT. It looks like he accidentally got caught in some illegal stuff, and didn't really have a way out of it." "Kid gets exiled, he's talking with criminals, and weeks later your people get attacked." Scourge leaned forward. "Don't seem like a coincidence to me." “Why… I knew he was mad at his dad but why on earth would he try and kill me… ” She paused, seemingly concerned. “Wait… He was banished for a reason he… His dad was dying and he wanted his inheritance early… He would have inherited the land I own now…” Aria mind was running faster than anyone could keep up as she chose to switch to mumble in her native tongue to herself. "We aren't saying he wants you dead, man." Manic comforted her. There were many explanations, but that wasn't the one he was thinking of. "We doubt he'd wanna see you all dead, especially if he was friendly to y'all. We're saying, he must have let something slip. He probably knows who's responsible for this crap, they'd be the people who hired Bobtail." Scourge wasn't assuming the same innocence, not for a second. This was pure malice in his own mind. He didn't dare say a word, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Aria's fury. “He tried to sell the land we were living on. He had a multi million dollar deal in the works but Tonic found out about it and their father banished him before he died. The company he tried to sell to also tried to claim the land as theirs, but I managed to win that case because they woke up the guardians… If Leo… If he killed me and Terra, he would inherit the land according to customs…”

She wrapped herself in her mates embrace and the bat hugged her tightly, trying to comfort. She wasn’t listening to Manic. Another round of looks, before a concise statement. "I'll find that case," Scourge said, "Gotta find that company." Where on the spectrum of fear and anger did Aria fall, Manic couldn't tell. But she definitely needed some comfort, and anything he could offer could at least be progress. "Woah, Ari... Ari, you want us to get you like, a drink or anything?" His attempt at acting businesslike was over, shifting straight back into being a friend. "You gonna be okay?" “I… I don’t know…” She stuttered out, clinging tightly to her wife. Terra tried to calm her with little kisses, and it worked, at least slightly.

“We should call Damian… He shouldn’t be a target but I wanna tell him.” Aria insisted as the king and Castillo got to work.

It took a while but they found a clipping from a newspaper about a bunch of businessmen attacked by a monster in the woods, and a tiny Aria stating that the monster would only listen to her or anyone she deemed worthy of control. "We've got people with connections to him, we've got a name, we've got a description, we've got everything a criminal's supposed to hide." Manic was satisfied with this information. "That's a hell of a lot to start a search with." The search, of course, could be held out by field officers, random schlubs from the police, it didn't quite matter who was asking the questions. What did matter was who was talking to Aria, and there was one person who knew exactly what to say to Aria. Nothing. Faolán saw the blubbering eyes, and sat down in Aria's lap for her comfort. Aria snuggled him close, cooing at him. “Shouldn’t you be in bed cutie pie?” She was thankful for him thought, and made sure he knew it. She hated having to lean on him for support. He was a child. He didn’t need to see any of her trauma. She wiped her tears quickly and tried to hide it. “You’ve got school tomorrow pup.” "It's summer!" He said with a laugh. Or were the adults just playing a joke on him at this point. The laughing was the least he could do. There were many ways to approach trauma, and he got his own way from his father; keep the mood light, no matter what. His gaming device was left sitting next to Aria, but if she didn't want to play, it was staying off. Manic creaked the door open, balking immediately when he saw Aria sitting with his son. They did look peaceful, but it was getting late. "Sorry, buddy, you've gotta get to sleep, don't wanna be tired for school." "Guuuys!" He said with an amused, annoyed groan. Aria giggled, faking it. He didn’t need to know that though, as she scooped him up and nuzzled him, purring.

“Still, pups have bedtimes. Off to bed you go." She gave him his game and ushered him to his father for him to be put to bed.

She was tired, and laid on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "Hey." Long after Manic had left, there was a voice from the door. Castillo creaked it open wider, stepping in slowly. Things were still far too tense for anything like this, but Scourge didn't feel like he had a choice. He at least had experience with these kinds of emotions. "Thought you'd wanna talk to someone" was all he could think to say. He sat in a chair a short distance from Aria, the awkward air hanging for a few more seconds after that. But he tried being patient, waiting for Aria to say something, even if it was just 'get the hell out.' “Everyone keeps getting hurt because of me.” She started, an almost random thought. She reached to play with her wedding ring, and only felt guilty.

“Terra has almost died so many times because of me… And you and Scourge and Manic and Fiona aren’t safe either… Maybe I should look for Leo on my own. It would be safer. No one would get hurt.” "I don't know what those trees were," Scourge admitted, "but those hings were some kinda supernatural beast. They couldn't kill me, some asshole with an inheritance ain't gonna get me. So I'm searching." It wasn't an option in his mind, after how much he'd screwed up. "Ain't your fault what some moth or some kid you didn't know did. You were closer to most of that pain than any of us, don't blame yourself for being a victim." “Well those trees were my family, and they almost killed you, and they could and would have if I hadn’t said not to. And all of this is just stemming from me. Literally everything is my fault.”

She buried her face in a pillow, wanting all of the pain and stress to go away. She just wanted a normal life, a normal family. Scourge had heard these kinds of thoughts many times before. From Manic, from himself, even from Fiona years before. So he knew what to say. "Yeah, your actions are gonna cause pain. That's life." As blunt as the words were, he didn't condescend on Aria. "And if you're trying to do good, you're gonna do good. And you've already done a lot for all of us." This was punctuated with Scourge leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees and looking at Aria. "Can't save the world, kid. I've done shit worse than anything you think you've done. You're trying to be a good guy. You're doing fine." “I put you, Manic, Fiona, Faolán, even my WIFE in danger. I can’t forgive myself for that.”

She sighed as he his speech did what it was supposed to. Covering her face she groaned. “I hate that your right. It doesn’t make the mood go away though.”

Well, that was as close as he was gonna get. "Sleep on it, Ari." Scourge assured her. "We forgive you. Your the only one holding out." The sound of the door clicking shut was immediately followed by both hedgehogs sighing. Scourge bucked up and marched onward. He had a criminal to catch. What he instead ended up catching was Faolán as he rocketed down the hall, the king watching from the door with a thinking look on his face. "Dad, dad!" He squealed, holding up Manic's phone and showing Scourge his photos of the beetles. "I put them on that bug site I like, and- And I told them about them, and no one knows what they are! What any of them are! They said they want me to catch some!" "That's... real neat, kid." The beetles didn't look normal to him. The colors on their backs were all bright, ranging from metallics to smooth patterns to even backs that almost looked crystaline. Faolán saw the momentary interest in his eyes and immediately tried milking that opportunity. "Now I HAVE to have a pet bug! It's super rare and they'd all be jealous!" The king followed and gave Castillo a look that showed his son's plan was a bad idea.

“I don’t know about that buddy, but we have to ask Aria once she gets up. She would know more about the beetles than anyone.” The king stated, and the three returned to the main room where the search for the criminal was underway.

“They eat magical rotting flesh. I doubt anyone wants to try and find a source of that," the king whispered to his alternate. "Magical flesh...." The words dangled there, and Scourge immediately knew the answers to all the questions he didn't want to ask. "Sure looks pretty for a flesh-eating bug mutant." There were many angles of attack on this. Who was there they could ask, what might give them information, what could they do? Fao's photos gave his dad an idea the more he looked over just how bizarre these bugs were. "These beetles look real magical. Seems like you'd need a hell of a lot of magic to do this." He could only guess, but something like this had to be hard to do. "A lot of people'd wanna use that kinda magic themselves." “That doesn’t help us… We need to find this guy and we need specifics. There’s no other properties with his name, so he isn’t paying rent on the books… Is anyone else here thinking that he couldn’t have done this on his own?”

With Faolán in the room, his word choice was limited, but he heavily implied the genocide was more than a one man job.

“That land is steeped in magic. Heavily steeped. The forest is leeching off of it, and it's the reason those bugs are rare. Aria said they started showing up when she was younger, just after that thing happened.” "What if..." Manic stood up, looking down in thought and moving his hands in circles as he tried to find the words. "So, after all that, a bunch of magic was released into the forest, right? And now there are magic bugs and plants and stuff, right? Could magic have gotten into whoever did this?" "And we're looking for Ari's clan. She said the family's otters, right?" For once, he started to grin, finally having a solution. "We're looking for an otter with claws an' some kind of magic powers. If they did that, they've probably got a police record under some other name." “Well, yeah, but how do we find him? That record could be from years ago. He could have left the country. He could be anywhere…” The king mused.

“What about facial recognition software? If Aria has a photo we can use it, age him and put it through!” Terra suggested.

“How long would that take?” The king asked, skeptical. "Aging the photo?" Manic huffed, humored. "No time at all. It'd take few minutes to comb local records if we know his species, we'd just gotta compare the photo to those. But like, if he could be anywhere in the kingdom, I dunno..." Castillo stood up, a plan already in his mind. "Get every station to find every record of otter arrests we can, send up anyone who'd be in the age range. And get that photo aged." Manic leaned back, smug as he thought up another part to the plan. "Maybe... I mean, we don't wanna dig up more bad memories for Ari, right? Maybe Damian'd have a photo instead? Or maybe Aria's sketched him already?" The king bit his lip. “We would have to go through her things. She wouldn’t let us… Unless…”

Everyone collectively looked at Terra who sighed. “I’ll try my best.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up beautiful,” the bat cooed as Aria got up. Kissing her gently and making the hedgie purr.

“Morning sweetheart.” Aria sighed, pulling the bat down on top of her, content.

“I was thinking… With all this stuff going on about your family… Maybe we should go look at that trunk of your mom’s things? It might make you feel better.” She brushed her hair back and smiled. Aria nodded, snuggling up to her. The trunk itself was an old, well organized stash of memories, bitter and horrifying and warm alike. The fabrics were ones Aria knew like the back of her hands, lovingly handcrafted patters with tiny mistakes in the patterns from the delicate hand crafting process. Even just the strange smell of them carried the air of the forest, a nostalgic kind of scent that has never quite been replicated since. And there was even her mother's own bracelet. All mothers had their own ways of representing their children, some literal, some more figurative, some with wishes for the child. But none of them could mean the same as little trinkets Aria could remember playing with as a little girl. And there it was. By a mass of letters and photos. Aria, maybe seven or eight, with two male otters older than her. It didn't directly say that these were Tonic and Leo, but for as small as Aria's homeland was, it was hard to believe there would be two sets of similarly aged otter brothers in her clan. Though maybe asking would be best... Aria opened a separate box, which contained a bracelet like her mother’s, devoid of charms.

“This one is supposed to be mine.” She told her wife, who smiled fondly at her and kissed her cheek. The promise of ‘someday’ hung in the air. Aria grabbed the stack of photos and started going through them.

“This one is of me and my baby sister, Carrissimi. She’s was so small when she was born. So delicate. She would have been as beautiful as our oldest sister.” Aria held out a photo of a herself with a gapped tooth smile, holding a baby .

She noticed Terra's fixation on the otters in the photo and sighed. “Yes, that’s them. The shorter one is Leo. The guy whose shoulders I’m sitting on is Tonic… Its a shame really. They were so nice to me.” She gave her mate the photo with a sad smile.

“I know this is what you were looking for. You can go bring it to Manic now.” She implied that her mate didn’t want to hear about her family. The bat wasn’t happy about that and set the photo aside, snuggling up to her mate.

“So who is the old man?” She asked, about the next photo in the pile. It would be at least an hour before they finished going through the chest. And in that hour, they had managed to get all the records they needed. Arrests of otters with a broad range of birthdates, collected from most every city they could contact. Sorting through the files was going to be a long process, but with facial recognition software and a photo of the suspect, they would easily be able to find him if he was in any of those records. They just needed that photo. Terra would come back with it eventually, and Scourge reached out for it impatiently. "Perfect," he said, handing it over to the king. "She getting suspicious?" “She figured it out. There’s no use hiding it from her. The guy you want is the short one.” She motioned to the photo, and the king scanned in a picture of him for Manic and Scourge to edit and search for.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Aria figured it out. She was smart. These were also her people. She knew then better that anyone.

Of course, that didn’t stop Terra from calling Damian and asking him to warp over to the castle in order to keep him and his family safe. Manic did all the hard work with programs, compiling data and photos, figuring out settings for the facial recognition software. Castillo mostly watched and did any grunt work Manic needed immediately, which wasn't much. "Hey, Scourge." It took Manic a moment to wave his hands and clarify "no, no, not you, the king." His gold eyes were full of hope. Fear and worry, but glimmering hope that they almost had some answers. "What do you wanna tell Ari? If we find him, I mean?" “Keep his location a secret. If she knows where he is she’s gonna walk right into his trap. Instead, we wait until we have a team of operatives sent out. And then we tell her. Keeps her safe and involved.”

Terra nodded. It was a solid plan. Aria wouldn’t be happy, but she would understand. “She says he’s got tracking powers, but they’re limited. No offensive magic”

“Good. That might help. Write down everything she told you. It’ll help the task force.” Maybe Aria could help the task force, but they were going to have to wait for the results to arrive. So until the results came through, they anxiously waited and waited... ding A tiny noise from the large projection screen caught everyone's attention. There was a match. And Manic couldn't have been faster to check out the results. "We've- we've got it! Four years ago- yeah, this is him!" The huddled crowd around the computer say a photo of someone. Name general face as the otter in the photo, just older. And it appeared he was using a pseudonym. "So he's going under "Milia Malum..." ding Another one? Manic didn't know what to make of it, but after a few moments of confusion, rushed to open the second case file. "Tonic Malum," he announced. "One month ago, it looks like, just an overnight stay for some bar fight." Malum, malum, he'd heard that name before... "He's using his sisters and brother's names as pseudonyms," he said. "Erro! Erro Malum, we're looking for someone with the name Erro Malum!"

"I’ve got an address! It’s apartments for a corporate building. And it seems like he’s been there this whole time! Every few years he cycles through names. Looks like the next cycle is gonna happen soon.” The king called out, dialing a number and sending out a tactical team to apprehend him. A video feed was brought up from a camera on an officers helmet.

“Go get Aria. This is it.” He told Terra, and the bat ran off. Seconds later she returned with her wife who was seeping with anger. She gripped the table with white knuckles and looked at the group of friends.

“Let’s do this.”

[kasiopeiae]

Mind on a Mission

A/N: Part 2 of the series Rotation.

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain // Wings of Butterflies