#oh my wife wants to pretend to be someone else and kidnap our child as a prank?

[sacredfire44]

UPDATE:

I just started watching Detective Conan and I need everyone to know that Hualian in this fic should act EXACTLY like Shinichi’s parents. That is EXACTLY how I envisioned them when writing this fic idea holy shit

(It’s kind of terrifying, you can even name who is who…)

Fic idea: Hualian went on a “short”(for an immortal) honeymoon trip where they took human forms and wandered around for a while. One mission forced Xie Lian to take a female form for whatever reason, and on that mission, Hualian end up meeting JFM and fucking around in lotus pier for a while. (Xie Lian stays in female form when around others to avoid suspicion, even if it makes him a bit uncomfortable. Hua Cheng is apologetic that he wasn’t the one caught as a girl since he wouldn’t really care.) Of course, once people start making Eyes at Xie Lian, Hua Cheng is like, NOPE, we are OUT, and drags them both out of there.

Hualian being hualian, Xie Lian ends up pregnant and gives birth to their little Xie Ying! He goes by Wei Ying around others though, a little joke Hua Cheng chose when they were asked for their names(Wei, as in character for ghost)

Anyway, Hualian being Hualian are so wrapped up in themselves when not caring for A-Ying that they forget to tell the other gods, having cut them off at the beginning of their honeymoon for the sake of privacy. And so, when they head out for a quick fight with a ghoul, leaving their A-Ying in an inn, no one is there to stop the ghoul from escaping once it steals their memories.

Hualian, minus the last five years of memories, head up to the heavens none the wise of the lost time and their forgotten child. No god wants to even BEGIN to ask for DETAILS about their honeymoon(Ew!) so it’s a long time before anyone notices anything wrong.

Idk this could be played really seriously and sad, for all the years they lost and all the pain their son went through…

Or…

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng can just storm Cloud Recesses and kidnap their child back…

[nobodyfamousposts]

Miraculous Ladybug/DC - Adoption AU

There seems to be a lot of Miraculous/DC crossover ideas, often with Adrien and/or Marinette getting adopted into the Batfamily.

Here is my take:

So it turns out that apparently Gabriel had family he tries to avoid and altogether pretends don’t exist. 

And it turns out the family in question he’s particularly wanting to keep out of his life and away from his family is Harley Quinn.

To be fair, they weren’t close to begin with. Then there was the whole thing with Joker and her stint as a villain. After that, Gabriel cut off all contact and moved to Paris.

Harley gets why. She doesn’t like it, but she gets it. She’s made mistakes and is trying to do better. She understands if Gabriel isn’t feeling all that forgiving or willing to reconnect. And she is fine with that, really.

What she is NOT fine with is discovering Mr. No-fun lost his wife in mysterious circumstances and has responded by not only isolating himself, but his son as well. His son who is a genuinely sweet and wonderful kid, and deserves so much better than being kept trapped in a quiet and lonely old mansion every day.

So she does what any good aunt would do if they’re a psychologist who used to be an underling and abuse victim for a psychotic clown whom she’s recently escaped from, found herself a girlfriend, and is past the point of having kids of her own.

She steals Adrien.

Well, from the mansion at least. Only from there. Not wanting to take him away from what little social life he’s managed to make so far despite Gabriel’s best efforts, Harley has them all stay in Paris. She even buys a nice house in a good district with money that was totally not stolen from Gabriel on her way out *coughcough*. Once set up in the new home, she proceeds to take Adrien there where she can dote on him like proper family and give him some of that affection he’s been so desperate for.

The wax figure of Adrien has been left in his place in the mansion.

Gabriel has yet to notice.

As has anyone else. (They’ve had at least 3 photoshoots so far with just the wax figure.)

Ivy finds the whole thing questionable but comes to see that Adrien is a sweet boy with a desire to do good even if he doesn’t necessarily know how or the best way to do so. She decides she can “raise him right” and mold him into a proper young man who uses his resources to help the environment. So she starts having him do gardening with her.

Adrien is...actually okay with this whole setup. Plus he went from no mom to TWO moms! Who spend time with him! And are involved in his life! And let him see his friends! And he actually gets to leave the house without a bodyguard tailing his every move—which turns out to be because Ivy is able to use her plants to keep an eye on him in a much less obtrusive manner, but eh...details. He’s essentially not-so-reluctantly kidnapped. He COULD escape at any point. He’s Chat Noir after all. But even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t like Ivy and Harley were going out of their way to keep him locked up or anything. The worst they did was give him a curfew—which when comparing a few hours of free time with an expectation to return by a set time vs a set schedule with only one hour of free time maybe worked in somewhere, was hardly something he was going to fight.

The fact is that he’s doing well under their care. Harley shares his sense of humor. Pamela nurtures his creativity. He gets support and encouragement to be more assertive. They actually WANT to talk to him and hear about his day. They WANT to be affectionate with him and have dinners together. And he just soaks up their attention and affection like a sponge and responds in kind.

Under their care, Adrien changes a bit. He speaks out more and makes it known when he’s unhappy or uncomfortable with something. He does not let people just touch him when he’s uncomfortable. If anything, he’s doing more touching and initiating conversations without fear of appearances. Nino gets bro hugs. Kim gets bro hugs. All the guys in class get bro hugs. Marinette also gets bro hugs—though he doesn’t hug her for too long since she seems to overheat easily.

Adrien is really enjoying this.

Even better, his moms somehow get jobs in the area.

Pamela either becomes a biology teacher at the school or opens a nursery. If she does open a nursery, Marinette becomes a regular customer on principle. She and Ivy bond. They trade gardening tips. Marinette is surprisingly helpful in keeping pests away from her plants for reasons Ivy doesn’t quite know. All around, Paris suddenly starts becoming a bit more green…and without the eco-terrorism. It helps that Adrien’s social media starts featuring him planting trees and taking care of plants, which is encouraging other people to follow suit.

Harleen becomes a school counselor. At Adrien’s school. Where she takes full advantage of the opportunity to embarrass him in full “overly affectionate mom” mode. Adrien is too happy to be embarrassed. Anyone who actually ends up laughing at him comes to regret it when Harley picks apart their psychological issues.

The new moms evaluate his friends.

Nino passes. Flat out. He got akumatized trying to throw their boy a birthday party? He also arranged an impromptu house party for Adrien the one chance he got? YES. THIS is someone he needs in his life!

Alya gives them concern given her Lois Lane levels of getting into trouble mixed with sheer lack of self preservation. Her tendency to jump into matters and reveal things or trust things without thinking also has them concerned.

Chloe has potential, but needs a good few months of therapy as far as they’re concerned.

Lila is banned from coming within ten feet of Adrien. It would have been fifty, but Adrien refused to take a killer plant that big and risk anyone thinking it’s an akuma.

Marinette passes after they have a sit down talk with her to get to know her better. Harley notes her anxiety issues and helps her to be able to avoid panicking. Ivy likes Marinette’s energy, and her garden is impressive. She gives her approval of Marinette courting their son.

Marinette: Wait—what?

And because they’re actually good moms, they figure out fairly quickly that their new son is the leather-suited catboy running around protecting Paris.

Harley: HOW DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW THIS?!

Adrien: Magic?

They have a bit of difficulty for the next few fights with the rather overprotective mothers trying to interfere in akuma fights, causing more confusion than anything until Adrien asks them to stop. They don’t, of course, but they at least let him try to handle things.

All in all, they make for a nice little family.

But there’s only so much two moms can do. And with Gabriel pretty much not involved, they’re limited in options. So after a while, they decide that Adrien needs a good father figure.

Adrien: But I have a father...

Harley: I said a GOOD father figure.

But who to choose?

Bats? “Oh god, no! Why would you inflict that level of broodiness in our child?”

Joker? “Sure! The best way to teach him important life skills is to have someone to test them on as an example. Like the best weak points! And the effects of blood loss! And how to hide a body!” “We could just use Gabriel for that and save on travel time!”

Superman? “The world isn’t ready.”

They finally come to a decision.

Which is how Nightwing finds himself tied up and dragged off to Paris to be made part of this weird little makeshift family.

Pamela: Why him?

Harley: He got the killer Robin from ‘murdery’ to some semblance of being an actual semi-healthy child with only some violent tendencies. He’d make a good father figure!

Pamela: But wasn’t that an alternate timeline—

Harley: A GOOD father figure.

Pamela: ...fine.

Nightwing: Wait—what?

Naturally, he’s confused. He tries to contact Batman to let him know what’s going on and what Ivy and Harley are up to because they’re in Paris for some odd reason and they have a kid he’s pretty sure isn’t theirs. Batman, on the other hand, is more concerned with all the crazy magic shenanigans in Paris that the League somehow doesn't know about and can’t get any accurate information on. So he pretty much tells Nightwing to stay with them since he’s already there and they have room for him anyway so it’ll be easier.

Nightwing: I'm telling you, they've captured me, dragged me off to Paris, and they have this little house with a kid—

Batman: Good, then you have a place to stay while you investigate the anomalies in Paris.

Nightwing: Bruce, I don't think you're hearing me...

Adrien: (Just pats him on the arm sympathetically)

Harley: (Hugs Nightwing) Looks like we've got Batdaddy's approval! You're part of the family now!

Nightwing: I will do whatever you want. Just don't call him that again.

To be fair, it is Batman, so he probably knows Harley and Ivy aren’t an issue at this point, but still!

…At least he gets his own room…

Nightwing isn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, he knows he shouldn’t be encouraging this. On the other hand, Harley and Ivy aren’t actually doing anything bad. And if anything, taking care of the kid has been good for them. Plus the kid seems happy with them, at least. It’s...weird, certainly, but he goes along with it. (Read: He folds to the kitten eyes.)

Then he finds out said kid is a superhero in a city regularly attacked by a supervillain who transforms and controls people by manipulating their emotions—which the League somehow has not been aware of despite it happening in PARIS.

Needless to say, he isn’t pleased.

I'm just imaging Dick Grayson interacting with other adult figures in Paris. And really, just Dick's response to everything in Paris and how things are being handled.

"So...you're telling me no one has tried to track down where the magic butterflies are coming from?"

"Um..."

"The governmental body hasn't initiated any policies to try to prevent akumas?"

"Well..."

"Set up an alert and evacuation system so people know where to go or not go?"

“…”

“Do I want to know what you people actually do in case of an emergency?”

“Probably not.”

Much like Ivy and Harley, he gets a day job to help out. There are two potential options for him.

He becomes a teacher at the school and takes over running gym class, which he uses to keep the kids in shape, teach them self defense, and help them work out some of their tension and emotions through physical activities and a good listening ear. His interactions with the kids would be something to see. Even better for his interactions with Damocles and Bustier. Because no, the events of the Ladybug episode would NOT have happened if he was there.

Lila: (Sobs) Ow! Ow! The pain! How could Marinette do this to me?

Dick: I’m not seeing any injuries.

Lila: I don’t bruise easily. They just haven’t appeared yet.

Dick: Even so, there are no abrasions. No swelling. No indications of a broken bone or sprain. Not even any marks to show where you fell.

Lila: It’s internal!

Dick: Then you need to go to a hospital to be checked out and have the extent of your injuries noted.

Lila: I wouldn’t go that far—

Dick: And your mother will be contacted and told to meet us there.

Lila: Well—

Dick: And of course we’ll be holding off on any punishment until we have a list of your injuries and a thorough investigation is completed.

Lila: But—

Dick: And just to keep you safe, I’ll be staying with you the whole time. We wouldn’t want anymore “accidents”.

Lila: ….Dammit.

OR

He joins the police force. Just for shenanigans in his interactions with Roger. Maybe helping the force to be more effective so they can actually HELP during akuma fights instead of simply serving as a temporary distraction.

Either way, he’s a positive role model for Adrien. The three of them working together help Adrien to maintain a positive and altogether healthier state. They give him more jokes and puns to work with—because that has long since been Nightwing’s area of expertise. They give him advice in wooing his lady love. They address the “just a friend” issue. They teach him self defense and helpful fighting techniques. They curb the “self-sacrificing” tendency he’s developed. They encourage him in his goals and self discovery now that he has the freedom to actually try.

Despite the weirdness of the situation, Adrien is actually happier than he has been in a long while.

Which is made ever more clear at a particular moment when he’s leaving for school one morning.

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!”

Harley sniffles and wipes a tear with a tissue she pulled out of her sleeve. “It feels like just yesterday that I stole him away from the mansion.”

“Then what does that make your kidnapping me?” Dick asked, sardonically. “This morning?”

“Don’t act like you’re not proud.” Ivy snarked.

Oh, he was. Immensely so. But of course he wasn’t going to admit it and give them the satisfaction.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 41

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and  playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 41: The Shelbys are blindsided and Tommy almost realizes his greatest fear.

             “There’s news.” Polly came into the betting shop. Kate was sitting in Polly’s office, her feet kicked up as she snacked on some sweets that she knew was always hidden in the desk.

            “News about what?”

            “A potential plot to have Arthur killed. Tommy and the boys are meeting about it now.”

            “Something Luca plotted? Or another local?”

            “Luca, as far as we know.”

            Kate sat up, slyly putting away the candy before Polly noticed she had been eating them. “Alright…so they’re setting up a counter-attack?”

            “Yes. In Artillery Square.”

            “When?”

            “In an hour, so get up.” Polly waved a hand at her.

            “An hour?” Kate stood up. “Is that why Tommy didn’t come home last night? Are you fucking kidding? Now he’s keeping secrets from me when-”

            “There’s no time for arguing, just come with me.”

            Kate grabbed her coat off the back of the chair and followed Polly out of the office. “Where are we going?”

            “You’re going to the hospital, to stay with Michael while this all happens. I want to keep you safe with him.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            The hospital room wasn’t an easy place to wait out in. Kate paced the floor, waiting for information about what happened at Artillery Square.

            “Did Tommy call you? Tell you anything about this?”

            Michael was sitting at the table that had a few bouquets decorating it. The flowers never wilted; Polly kept having them replaced. “No, I haven’t heard from him.”

            “I just figured this would be something he would share with me.” She muttered.

            “I’m sure they had to put together a quick plan, Kate, it’s nothing against you.”

            “I know these men better than Tommy does. I think it would be wise to trust me on these matters.” She grumbled in discontent.

            “Miss Lynch?” A nurse came in. “There’s a telephone for you.”

            “Oh, thank you.” Kate felt some relief, hoping it was news. She followed the nurse out of the hospital room and to the phone. She picked up the receiver. “Hello?” There was no answer on the other end of the line. “Hello? Tommy?”

            Suddenly, someone placed a gloved hand over her mouth, and forcefully pulled her into the room behind her.

            Kate wrestled for her gun in her holster but the man holding her back was too strong.

            “Funny meeting you here, huh, Katie?”

            The voice made her stomach turn but she continued to fight.

            There was a click and Mickey pressed a gun under her chin. “If you scream, I’ll put a bullet through your head.”

            Kate squeezed her eyes shut and prayed it was all a cruel nightmare. She nodded, hoping that when he let her go, she would wake up in Tommy’s arms.

            “Alright, that’s a good girl.”

            The door opened and closed again, making Kate open her eyes. Another man came in.

            “Take her gun,” Mickey ordered.

            The man frisked Kate for her gun, finding it and pulling it out of her holster.

            “Now, are we going to have some difficulty if I let you go?” Mickey asked, releasing his hand from her mouth.

            “You’re here to kill me, just get it over with.” She spat, all the while she was looking for an exit strategy. She always managed to make it out with her life. And this time, she had so much to live for. The Shelbys, Tommy, her unborn child. She refused to put Tommy Shelby through any more grief.

            “I’m not here to kill you,” Mickey replied. “I will kill you. Soon, but right now you’re just an obstacle in the way. We’re here for someone else.”

            Michael. Kate’s heart leapt to her throat and she made a lunge for the door.

            “Ah, ah, ah.” He grabbed her before she could get even a step away. “Cool it, Katie.” He chuckled when he saw her lower lip tremble. “Santo was right, you’re just too hung up on these gypsies. He made a mistake tryna bring you back home and make a wife out of you. I suppose he was blinded; thought you would eventually love him back if he kept you in Boston long enough. He should’ve killed you years ago. Then you wouldn’t be such a thorn in my side.”

            Kate’s jaw was tight as she stared him down. No way Mickey was going to leave this room thinking he had scared her. “Did you see the state of him? Were you the one who found his body?” She asked with as much restraint in her voice that she could muster. “I tore him to shreds. And you know what? I don’t lose any sleep over it. I’m glad I did it. I would do it again.”

            “Shut your fucking mouth,” Mickey warned, pointing the gun at her.

            But Kate knew he wasn’t going to kill her. She wasn’t the target. “And to think you really believed the story that I was kidnapped. Poor little Kate, her fiancée was murdered and she was snatched away. I really thought you were smarter than that. I guess I was wrong.”

            “You bitch, I said quiet!” He shouted and slapped her across the face with the pistol. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her up against the wall. “I can’t wait to kill you. Can’t wait to see your blood spill. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna make you watch Luca kill that Tommy Shelby. Then I’m gonna slit your throat.”

            Kate gritted her teeth and kneed him in the groin. “I’m going to send you to hell first.”

            Mickey went to hit her again but the other man grabbed him. “We have to go. Now!” He snapped in Italian.

            And just like that, they were gone.

   ~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate left the room, running back to Michael. She nearly collided head-on with Tommy.

            “Fuck’s sake, are you okay?” He took her face in his hands, at least happy to see she was on her feet.

            “I’m fine, it’s Michael they were after.” She tore away from him to get into the hospital room. “Michael!”

            The young man was out of breath, sat on the cot. “They just left. You lot scared them off.” He gasped, terror in his eyes. “Th-the gun backfired and they ran.”

            Tommy slumped into a chair. The fear of the decoy had rattled him right to the core. “Kate?”

            “Mickey…Santo’s right-hand man. He blindsided me when I was in the hall. He said I wasn’t the target; he wasn’t going to kill me.” She answered shakily.

            “Fuck.” Tommy whispered to himself. How could he not have considered this? He was so sure.

            “Tommy.” Kate took his wrist to pull his hand away from his face. “Why didn’t you come home last night?”

            “Because I had news of this, I was with Arthur planning.” He replied.

            “You couldn’t have called? Told me what was going on?”

            “Kate…”

            “Tommy, this could’ve been avoided if you had called me. I would’ve been able to help you! I’m not just a waste of space you know. I’ve been around these men longer than you have; I know how they think.” She argued.

            “So, you would’ve figured this all out, aye? You would’ve been the one to save the day?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

            “Oh, don’t give me that tone. The point is that we promised each other not to keep secrets.”

            “It wasn’t a fucking secret, Kate…”

            “But now I’ve been pushed off to the side because of what? Because you don’t think I’m clever enough? I could’ve-”

            Tommy stood up, knocking the chair over in the process. “Because of the baby!” He shouted at her. “Because I won’t have your name anywhere near mine, not while I’ve got a fucking vendetta attached to me!”

            “They want me dead just as much as anyone else in this family!” She yelled back at him. “I’ve had my vendettas with them much longer than you. So, don’t go on pretending I’m new to this game. I faced the Mafia before you even shot Billy Kimber!”

            He wouldn’t step up to her challenge. “As long as you’re carrying my child, you’ll not have anything else to do with this. You understand? No more.” He snapped before leaving the hospital room as quickly as he had come in.

            Kate was left with Michael who was looking perplexed by everything that had happened in the span of minutes.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            After their argument, Tommy didn’t have much time to spare in regards to mending things. But when he did finally return home, he smelled like the Yard. That was clear to Kate when he slipped in bed with her.

            He must’ve thought she was asleep because he struck up a cigarette and was silent for almost a minute.

            “You told Michael I was pregnant,” Kate spoke with her back still turned to him.

            “No, I didn’t.”

            She turned over with a huff and sat up to face him. “Yes, you did! In the hospital, you were going on about all that right in front of him. What else is he supposed to think you were talking about?” She demanded.

            In his anger, Tommy hadn’t realized what he was saying in front of his cousin. “It’ll be alright.”

            “Oh, I see. So, Tommy Shelby is free to do whatever he wants. You say I can’t tell anyone, then you go on letting it slip to Michael. You’re a hypocrite, you know that?”

            “I’m sorry.” He was too tired for another fight. “I didn’t mean to tell him.”

            “I don’t care what you think about me being pregnant. I’m not asking for you to put me on the front lines. I’m asking you to be clear with me about what’s going on. I know their strategies; I can be another brain in the room!” She insisted.

             “Do you know what would’ve happened, if Grace was pregnant?” He asked in a quiet voice.

            Kate stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “If she had been pregnant that night. If she was shot…the baby would not have survived. I would’ve lost two people that night.” He put his cigarette aside.

            She started to understand where he was coming from. Her eyes went downcast. “Tommy…”

            “If that bastard killed you-” He swallowed and shook his head. He couldn’t even get the words out. With a sigh, he placed a hand over his eyes. He was so tired.

            “They’re playing on our fears. They want us to be scared.” She moved closer to him and touched his cheek. “If we’re afraid, we make mistakes. Or we let our emotions get the better of us and we make stupid decisions. Right now, we need to be strong.”

            Tommy dropped his hand and looked into her eyes. “I don’t even want to sleep anymore. Every night it’s the same nightmare.” He said in a low voice. “The same dreams I had when I was on morphine. When you were gone.”

            Kate bit her lip. “If I could take away the dreams I would.” She touched her forehead to his. “But know that I’m not going anywhere. Neither is the baby. We can think about the good times that are to come when this is all over.”

            He ran a hand through her hair, grateful to have her close even after the argument they had earlier. “You should ask Pol to tell you the gender. Figure out when they’ll be born too.”

            “It should be sometime in the summer. That’ll be nice, won’t it?”

            Tommy tried to picture warm sunny days at Arrow House. He would take some time off to help with the baby. Lord knew they would all need some time off after the whole Changretta debacle was finished. “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’ll be very nice.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe​ @evelynshelby​

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Masterpost 

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[brydeswhale]

Fic Preview Time!

Bc I might as well tease you guys since I actually haven’t been writing that much lately.

1. Untamed death row exoneration fic

So, I was writing this one before the US government went on it’s little killing spree, but it started to be topical and real, so I put it on a backburner, but I'm getting back to it.

The house wasn’t huge. Wei Ying knew that, intellectually. Compared to the house he’d grown up in, it was modest. Compared to the entire lake that had been in his backyard as a kid, the small pond and five trees in the backyard were cute. 

But he couldn’t help it, as soon as A-Yuan left the house, just walking from room to room to room, in and out. He tried to be careful and close the screen door, but sometimes he’d forget and one or two rabbits would hop in and surprise Lan Zhan in his office.

Lan Zhan never scolded him for it. He’d just pick the rabbit up and put it in his lap. 

“You’ve got to go to therapy,” Jack came by with a bottle of wine the first day, patted A-Yuan on the head, and let his wife give Lan Zhan a salad with nuts and artichoke hearts. “I’m going to give you this right now, and that’s all the booze you get until you send me a picture of the appointment.”

“I can buy my own alcohol,” Wei Ying laughed at him. 

Jack just smiled indulgently at him.

“Trust me,” he said, gently. “You want to do this. For your kid.”

So he had an appointment on Friday, and until then he was walking the house the same way he’d paced his cell.

Wen Ning was in his room, working on something A-Yuan had asked him to do. Qing-jie was working on finding whatever job a woman who was snatched from the gentle grip of a first year med school could get.

Wei Ying tried to lie down at the edge of the pond. Several goldfish swirled around, looking at him expectantly, and he waved apologetically.

“Lan Zhan told me you guys are on a diet,” he pointed out. The fish, disgruntled, fluttered their fins, and drifted away.

The sun went behind a cloud. The lilies floated in the wind.

He slept. 

The sun shone off the wine bottle, still unopened, on the kitchen windowsill.

So it’s not really about the death penalty, per se, it’s more about exoneration and also humans and trauma and stuff. Really heavy and it makes me sad.

2. Unnamed Teen Wolf vampire fic

So this isn’t REALLY a Vampire The Masquerade crossover, but it kind of IS, because I played that LARP for ten years and I still don’t understand(because I’m stupid) so it incorporated a lot of their brokenness, lol. Basically, it’s Scott getting kidnapped by vampires, who then decide to keep him and won’t give him back based on him being their precious darling.

A hunter came up behind him, but Scott felt, smelled, heard him, and, with a twist, threw him into the lights. They smashed, and several of them died, much to the delight of the captive. Her grin, briefly delightful, suddenly terrifying as two delicate fangs appeared, brought a cry of terror from the hunter as she dragged him up, and Scott found himself stepping forward, hands outstretched helplessly.

“Don’t kill him!”

She paused, and her pout returned.

“But I’m hungry,” she complained. “And he’s not exactly a good guy, wolf, he steals kids.”

“Just,” Scott wanted to agree with her, wanted, suddenly, to just leave the bastard there. She was right. He was a kidnapper and probably a murderer. 

(“Some of us are human!”)

“Just, please,” he begged. “Just leave him. Help me save Siobhan.”

She looked him in the eyes, hesitating, then bent her head and sank her teeth into the hunter’s neck.

Scott felt himself drop a little. That was that. He didn’t know why he’d expected to persuade her otherwise.

“Fine,” she stood up, letting the hunter fall into the broken glass of the lights, blood dripping down her face. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You could turn a cat from a mouse with those eyes. He’ll live, he just needs some juice.”

...

Maybe it wasn’t the shadows that had taken his breath from him. She’d thought the blood was someone else’s, but she could see it seeping out from under his fingers.

“Are you okay, wolf?”

“Scott,” he reached for a shirt, and pulled it on with jerking, shaking fingers. 

“My name’s Scott McCall,” he clarified for her raised eyebrows, then collapsed in a heap beside a pile of laundry.

She let a note behind. It was what you did, right?

She wrote it out on thin, lined paper, and pinned it to the fridge under a cute, pig shaped magnet. Then she picked him up, and stepped into the darkness.

...

“You’re awake!” The girl walked in carelessly. She wore draping scarves over a loose, not very long dress, and long, flashy necklaces. Her curls didn’t quite seem to match. “Took you long enough.”

“I can’t- I can’t stay here,” he was trying to get up, and he realized that someone had taken off his jeans and replaced them with loose, soft pyjamas. He was wearing a matching shirt. 

“You took my pants?” He held himself up with one hand, and noted, as if from far away, that it was shaking.

“Don’t worry about your maidenly modesty,” she pulled out her phone and used the camera to reapply lipstick in a bruised purple. “Seamus wanted you to be more comfortable. That’s all.”

“I have to go,” he shook his head. “I have to- How long have I been here?”

“Almost four days now,” she said, pushing him back into bed. “Stop that. You nearly died about five times.”

“My friends,” he tried to move, but she was stronger than she looked. Her hands were cold, and she smelled strange. Dull, and still. 

“I left a note,” she seemed utterly unconcerned. “I put it on your fridge. Cute magnets, by the way.”

“I’m Jewel,” she told him, clambering up to sit cross legged on the bed beside him. “Jewel Cleary.”

“Scott-“ she interrupted him carelessly. 

“I know, Scott McCall, you told it to me while you were dying.”

That explained it. They didn’t know he was an alpha.

“I wasn’t dying,” he tried to explain. “I’m an alpha. I would have been fine, you didn’t have to bring me here.”

“You nearly died three times in this very bed, boyo,” a huge, decaying mountain of a man, whose bulk spoke of power beginning to fade, and who had laugh lines at every corner of his face, came in with a steaming tray. “And now you’ll stay in it and eat your dinner and rest until you look a bit less of a corpse.”

“I’m Seamus,” the man handed the food to Jewel, then helped him sit up. “Tho most call me Shea, on the belief that my true name will call all manner of calamities down upon us. You’re Scott McCall, who saved our Jewel, and it’s a pleasure, indeed it is, Mr. McCall.”

He was saved from replying by Jewel putting the tray under his nose and both of them beaming expectantly over a bowl of stew and a cup of something dark and hot. 

It was… very good. And he fell asleep again as soon as he finished.

3. Another Chapter In Mysterious Fathoms Below

So this fic is actually stalled because I’m writing Uma giving a Ted Talk style speech on what it was actually like growing up in a concentration camp run by a totalitarian dictatorship and I’m stumped on it, also the mystical stuff that's coming in. But I'm back on track soon, so hopefully this will come out soon.

“Davy Jones’ Locker!”

“Don’t curse, dear,” Merryweather had scolded absently, trying to clear up supper dishes. 

“Don’t-What? Merryweather, look at the bloody stars!”

Harry grabbed her arm, pushing her to look up at the sky. It was just past dusk, soft and velvety blue, with early stars cheerfully popping into place. She followed Harry’s finger.

There should have been two stars there. One was newer, and that one had taken its place, although it’s bright shimmer was somewhat reduced.

Where the other should have been, there was black emptiness. Somehow, the sky looked cold and empty without it, and its mate seemed to shiver in the blackness.

“The second star,” she whispered. “Oh, Harry, what’s going on?”

…

“I was born in a prison, and on that day, from the moment I came screaming and bloody into this world, I was sentenced to life without parole. Like everyone born on the Isle Of The Lost, all my friends and my enemies, I was born to starve, suffer, and die, for the crime of being born to the losing side.”

“My first memory is of vomit. I was sick, because the food that came to the Isle came off garbage skows. Now, I don’t mean that the ships that transported the food were garbage skows, repurposed for bringing food to our prison, I mean it was garbage. The leftovers, the trash, rags and rot. Every bite we took was Russian roulette, and that day, I guess I lost.”

She smiled, and turned slightly again. She had never managed to stay still, even when she slept, she kicked and pushed out against the world. She had crawled early and walked early, she had swum from the moment of her birth.

“I don’t mean for you to think this was some kind of unusual event. I had food poisoning several times a year. The alternative was to not eat. There were no gardens, no farms. The ground was rocky and hard, and even if we’d managed to till it, the earth was leeched of life, to keep the barrier going. It was fed from the very island.”

From something more than the island. From something that had been since long before the Beast and his doll had been even thought of, something that had reigned before princes and queens.

Ursula drank her daughter’s face in. Sweet and pretty, crowned and gowned, just as she should have been. She traced the curve of her cheek, and pretended that this was something else, something from another world, where Uma was all that she appeared, and pure, and soft. 

…

They were making their way through grey fog, as fast as pixy dust could swing them. The Pan stood at the bow, staring into the mist. When Harry approached, he turned, eyes glowing with a terrible fire.

“It’s begun, impossible child,” he said, cheerfully.

Harry swore at him, savagely, and sat on the rail, listening for the sounds of planes and guns.

…

“Look how she lights up the sky,” she could hear Naveen singing, singing somewhere far away.

She stumbled out of bed. He must have been singing to Jimmy, and Jimmy was probably missing her.

But when she got to the nursery doorway, it was gone. 

The air was rich and humid, sweet with flower and sour with decay. Dragonflies hummed, their jewel-like bodies gleaming in the last of the sunlight as they danced over the glimmering water. She took one step, and another, the ground not giving way, but welcoming her in, wrapping water and earth around each foot. The trees swayed overhead, moss waving in the wind.

A place of death. A place of life.

3. The next chapter in Five Wolves Sansa Never Had

So this was a fic that stemmed from my irritation that Sansa lost her puppy. This chapter is called “Ned, you fucked up big time” and its about Ned trying to replace Lady with a sickly puppy who actually IS a dire wolf. Knowing what I know about dire wolves now, this is HILARIOUS.

He almost bought a doll, but Jory had shaken his head furiously, and he’d stepped past the toy shop, to a man selling what he called “exotic beasts, fit for the King’s own menagerie”.

Of course, the quiet little pup certainly wasn’t the dire wolf the man advertised him to be, but something in his golden eyes and quiet nature had reminded him of Lady, and he’d paid far too much for the little creature. 

Far, far too much, it seemed now.

Sansa hadn’t been grateful. She’d sullenly put it in her lap, and told him he couldn’t replace Lady, and needn’t have tried. Then she’d gone to her chambers, ignoring Arya, who wanted to play with the little creature.

At first he’d thought it was simply a quiet pup, like Lady had been. It had had little appetite, and messed in Sansa’s chambers, but she had been used to that from Lady’s infancy and hadn’t complained. He’d heard it when he accidentally eavesdropped on Jeyne’s complaints to another maid.

But after some days it had become clear that the little beast was dying. Food and water ran through it, ending in messes on the floor, it slept for hours, and when it woke, it cried weakly. It couldn’t walk, and Sansa would carry it out to the gardens, lay it on a blanket, and sit and embroider, only getting up to change the linens under the poor thing, or to persuade it to take a sip of water or a bite of food.

Ned tried to broach the facts of the matter with Sansa, but she had only glared stoney-faced at him, until he found himself faltering and retreating. He’d thought of sneaking in at night and smothering the creature, but it felt too much like murder, and he finally gave up, leaving the little creature alone to die in peace.

The one good thing about the matter, which was the rift between Sansa and Joffrey. The Prince found the puppy disgusting and wasn’t quiet about it, and Sansa found his rudeness distasteful, and tactfully avoided the boy. By the time he was able to put them on a ship, sickly pup and all, she was distant enough from Joffrey that her protests were only quiet, pointed remarks about how he had made her fit to be a princess, and now didn’t find the price she brought him high enough.

It reminded him, chillingly, of how Lyanna had argued with his father, and he found himself unable to embrace her when she left.

…

Stark had sent one of his daughters with a Braavosi swords master and the other with a sickly puppy, as if he thought that Stannis hadn’t enough to do, and would appreciate some further inconveniences. 

The younger daughter had no idea how to behave, and put the entire castle into uproar after uproar. But if he had hoped that the eldest daughter, who had lived up to her reputation as far as being a pretty child, who curtsied precisely the right depth, would balance the little urchin by behaving and staying in her place, he was, well, mildly disappointed.

“The dog will be placed in the kennels,” he told them on the arrival.

The girl shook her head. 

“No, my lord.”

He had paused, and the entire parade of noblewomen, septas and servants had stumbled in its tracks.

“No, Lady Sansa?”

She met his eyes, and he was reminded, uncomfortably, of her father.

“No, my lord,” she reiterated. “He shall not go to the kennels. He is the symbol of my house and he will remain with me.”

“It’ll probably die soon, anyhow,” the younger girl told him. “It’s been dying since father bought it, it’s an ugly little thing.”

For a moment, Lady Sansa was unable to school her expression to proper demureness, and a cold rage turned her eyes from sky on sea blue to springtime ice as she glanced at her sister. It only lasted for a heartbeat, then she was back to cold courtesy.

Stannis ignored their silent squabble, and looked more closely at the creature. It lay limply in her arms, eyes unfocused, and breaths shallow. 

“At the very least,” he allowed. “We ought not to bring whatever sickness that is amongst the dogs.”

Later, he found the girl seated by her hearth, trying to feed the little creature a soup of broth and bones, while her ancient septa slept in the window seat. The pup ate but little, and the girl rubbed a hand over her eyes before she saw him and stood to curtsey again.

“Forgive me, my lord, I did not see you.”

“I brought this,” he held up a small pot. “I purchased it for a sick hound, once, and it brought the creature strength enough to heal.” 

She thanked him very prettily, and he mixed a spoonful with the broth she was trying to feed the pup, showing her the portions carefully and appreciating her careful attention. Between them, they got the poor thing to finish the broth and eat a little meat, before it fell asleep in a rabbit fur lined basket.

“Thank you, my lord.” 

He took a closer look at the child. He’d never thought much about the girl who would marry his goodsister’s bastard, but he could see now that she had bright, intelligent eyes, despite her clear exhaustion, and that she carried herself very well.

“It must have been a shock,” he said, abrupt in his discomfort. “When your father told you why he had to break your betrothal.”

She hesitated.

“My father,” her voice was very soft, and uncertain. “My father has not-“

He stared at her, irritable and disbelieving. 

“Did your father not tell you why you were being sent here?”

He knew he sounded skeptical, but the idea that Eddard Stark would not have told his eldest child why her very excellent marriage pact was being broken seemed truly ludicrous. Stark wasn’t stupid, and he was a man of honour. It would only serve him well to keep his eldest daughter in his confidence.

The girl blushed in embarrassment. 

“He-He told Arya,” she said, slowly. “That is, I believe he told her. She hasn’t said anything. To me. But he speaks to her. He likes her.”

Stannis frowned. 

There had been another father, once upon a time, that father had made sure there was a space in his mews for a crippled bird, and as much fresh and good food for her as any flighted creature, all because his son had hoped she might fly again. Even if that son was not as handsome, or charming, or bright as his brother.

“Your father has been foolish,” he told her, coldly. He had not the talent to speak to children, but she seemed to understand that he meant no harm to her. “He may as well have sent you riding an aurochs blindfolded.”

“No matter,” he continued, and sat down in a chair by the hearth, motioning her to the opposite seat. “Listen to me. It’s a very long story.”

…

“…His Grace, the King, has explained all to me, my Lord Father. 

I am very glad to hear that you have escaped your confinement. Perhaps we shall see each other again soon.

Your Obedient Daughter,

Sansa Stark, lately of Dragonstone”

There was something cold about the letter, Ned thought, running a hand through his hair, for all that it was prettily written, with no ink blotches or crossed words, but he couldn’t quite tell what made him think so. He set it aside, with a group of others he planned to answer later, including word from White Harbour and the Wall.

Stannis had overstepped, he thought. Sansa was too young to know the truth of her betrothal, that her former betrothed was a bastard born of incest, that Jon Arryn had been murdered. But Stannis had never been known for tact.

His son had become a king. The Riverlands and the North called him so. So did some among the Vale. Word had come to the Stormlands, just as he managed to convince Renly to wait for the proper order of succession.

He put it aside for now. Robb was a boy, he could be persuaded to see sense.

“Sansa has chainjed her hair again. She just brayds it and pins it back under a hood like the new Queen does except she hardly spends any time with the queen. She and Stannis are always together with the Prinsess. All they do is play kivuss, and talk over maps and books. 

“I found a secret passij in the cellar of the kassle. It goes to the dungeon.

“Are you alright, Father? I herd one of the men say you lost your leg. I miss you very much.”

He smiled fondly over the mis-spelled words, imagining Arya roaming a new castle, learning all the new haunts and secrets.

“My Dearest Arya,

“I have not lost my leg, but it was very badly infected. I hope you are well, and you are behaving for your hosts…” 

…

The black wolf didn’t die, to everyone’s surprise. To their further astonishment, he thrived, with an ever-growing appetite and a newfound strength to match. He began to grow, and developed a certain cool dignity, to match his mistress’ adolescent gentility. She named him “Prince” and embroidered a collar in silver-grey thread and white shell beads.

Stannis wasn’t, precisely, surprised to find that the elder of his new wards was quick and clever, or that she knew already the names and banners of nearly every house in the Seven Kingdoms, and the relevant histories of said houses. His wife was pleased with her sewing and manners, and engaged a musician to teach her and Shireen the high harp and the lute. The girl’s septa kindly took Shireen under her wing, along with the younger Stark girl(when she wasn’t playing at swords with her water dancing master or dragging Shireen and Patchface into trouble) and their maid. She couldn’t really do much more than teach them etiquette and sewing, but she meant well, and she was too old to do anything else, so Stannis allowed it.

Sansa and Melisandre had begun a polite war. Word had been that the girl prayed as much in the sept as her father’s godswood, but she was little interested in opening her faiths any further, and clearly disliked the Red God’s followers for their fanatic disavowal of the older faiths. The small folk had been afraid that she was a witch, with her black wolf as a familiar, but when she proved kind and generous, they apparently decided that she was a good lady, whose wolf was a sign of favour by either the old gods, or the new.

[alyssa-ward]

Little Deaths Part 3

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

“What am I supposed t’do with you?”

Alyssa sits backwards in a chair, facing the tied up man in the centre of the room.  Her arms folded across the back of the chair, chin resting on it as hazel eyes drill intently into him.

“Oh, are we talkin’ now?”  Remy’s voice sounds scratchy and drained.  It’s been two months in this basement and sure, she comes by and gives him food and water, but sometimes it’s days without, he’s parched, he’s lost weight, he’s only been permitted to be free of his bindings to move about the space with a hulking Felguard looming over him before he’s tied up and left alone once more.

The Warlock showed up to her hidden place regularly, one she’s never kept anyone alive for this long in.  Makes sure he’s still secure, but never talks to him.  Never really deals with what’s in front of her.  Remy mattered to her.  He still matters to her.  That first night when she realized who she had, she retreated immediately, and hasn’t spoken more than a few words since.  ‘Eat’.  ‘Drink’.  ‘Stay’.  More an animal than a person.  He’s tried to talk to her of course, but she’s just drowned it out, ignored it all.  That seems to have changed tonight.

“Yes,” she admits with some reluctance.  “It seems time we do doesn’t it?”  She exhales a frustrated breath.  “I investigated the woman ‘o was ahead o’you in the woods.  You weren’t with the bandits were you?  You were rescuin’ ‘er?  Always playin’ the ‘ero.”  There’s a peculiar tone in her voice that wavers between fondness and irritation.

The man across from her tries to gauge just what the woman wants out of all this, as he has time and again during this process.  There was a time he’d have said he knew Alyssa’s thoughts.  Understood the woman completely.  Now it’s like looking into the eyes of a total stranger wearing the face of someone he used to love.  “I’ve tried to tell you that.  I didn’t think that even mattered to you.”

He’s been in Stormwind longer.  Has less of the harshness of his accent then she still does, she muses as he speaks.  “It does.  You were supposed t’be a bandit.  Y’were supposed t’be...not you.  Anyone but you.  I don’ get t’make mistakes in ‘o I capture and y’gone and cocked that all up.”

“Well pardon me for the inconvenience,” Remy replies sarcastically.  “I’ll just be on my way then and leave you to whatever shite you’ve gotten up to down here, pretend these last...how long has it even been?”

“Two months,” Alyssa replies.  “Yesterday.”  Another exhale, a tired sigh.  “Let me run y’through m’problem Rem.  You deserve that.  I don’t want t’kill you.  Y’don’ deserve that, and we ‘ave our ‘istory.  I can’t let y’go either.  You’ve seen ‘o I am.  I want t’believe I could trust you but that’s not a risk I can take.” “I,” he starts to try to reply but she cuts him off to continue. “No one I’ve brought down ‘ere gets t’live.  I risk too much o’the life I’ve built if I let anyone go ‘o knows.”  Only then does she pause to let him reply, but in truth she’s more using him as a sounding board.  That and hoping a tiny bit that somehow he’ll say the right thing that solves it all.

“Lyssi, what happened to you?”  His voice carries evident sadness.  “You can always trust me.  You’ve always been able to.  Let me go.  More than that, let me help you.  Untie me, let’s talk, catch up.  I’m sorry things have gone so wrong for you.”

Alyssa pushes out of the chair, stepping around it to come to stand in front of him.  There’s a hint of a tremble at her lip as she tries to keep her expression stern.  A tightening at the corners of her eyes that undermine the anger in them as she keeps from crying.  “I can’t.  I can’t trust you Rem.  Y’let me down when I needed you, y’can’t ‘elp me...and things ‘aven’t gone wrong.  I’m good.  M’life is good.” “Then why are you doing this?  Why do you have to kidnap and threaten people?  Bandits or not, this isn’t the right way to do things.”  He leans forward, in spite of hands tied behind his back.  “I’m sorry Alyssa, it’s haunted me that I left but I didn’t know what else to do.  I made the choice that seemed right at the time.”

The tremble in her lips stops and they settle into a straight line as her jaw tightens.  “Make the choice that seems right at the time.  Even when it ‘urts the one you loved just t’save y’self.”  Her hand snaps up, palm out, and a beam of glowing green light blasts forth from her palm, connecting to the centre of his chest.

Remy cries out in pain as Alyssa’s magic connects to the very core of him, tendrils of fel power wrapping about his soul, digging into his essence.  His head thrown back, rocking back in the chair.  The woman stands before him, beam driving into him, and something snaps inside of him.  Something he hasn’t dealt with in quite a long time, and something the Warlock had almost certainly forgotten about with her own repression.

His skin starts to split, thrown back head twisting as jaw lengthens.  An unholy and unsettling howl as he rips free of bindings, splintering the chair and shackles both, lunging forward into the summoner in a blur, temporarily breaking her spell as he tackles her to the ground, claws raised to strike, slavering jaws above her head. “No.  No more,” he roars at her in a gutteral growl, spittle from his fangs spattering her features as he leans down. “Why didn’ y’do this before,” Alyssa doesn’t look scared, more inconvenienced than anything as she looks defiant up into the Worgan’s features, laying her back.  “Just end it though, y’got the edge, use it.”  There’s a part of her who wants that.  She doesn’t consider herself to have a death wish.  Has things she wants to accomplish, but just now, here, the weight of her choices...she feels like it has been enough, if this is where it ends.

“Because I thought I could get through to you!”  He roars, rising, a clawed hand wrapping about her neck to lift her into the air.  “Because I thought you were worth saving.  Again.”  His hand tightens as the Wolf within fuels his anger, asks for more...and then loosens again, letting her go, dropping Alyssa to the ground.  “But you can’t be saved.  Goodbye Alyssa.” He turns to go, clothing torn and tattered, clawed feet scratching into the stone of the basement floor as he moves towards the exit, assuming he’s won.

A chain of sickly green light slams into his back, Alyssa pushing herself up from the floor with one hand, the other extended out towards him, bearing him to the ground with her power as she pours her energy into once more lashing around his soul.  The grip of it tightens, vicelike around his essence, sucking away his energy, pinning him to the stairs in spite of his attempts to lash against it. “Damnit Alyssa it doesn’t have to be this way,” his gravely worgen tone strained with pain.  “Why d’you get to be the one that walks away?  My life’s worth just as much…”  He twists on the stairs to face her, to look up at her as she approaches, confident now that her magic has him quelled and he can’t lunge again.

“Because the people with power and the will t’use it get t’write the stories.  Y’ad y’chance t’tell this one.  Y’should’ve taken it.”  She clenches hand into fist, and a shimmering afterimage of his form starts to slowly rip free of his body as she lashes at his soul and the connections that bind it to his form. “Lyssi...I got married.  I have a wife, we have a kid on the way.  She’ll wonder what happened to me.  You’re going to leave my child without a father,” his words increasingly anguished as he tries to speak as every nerve ending is aflame. “I grew up without m’father.  And y’wife will be just fine, y’disappeared on me and I still am.”  Venom in her voice, and with a final yank she tears it free, his soul coming loose all at once to coalesce between her hands, sickly green drawing it into a tiny purple crystal forming in the air before her, before she snatches it.  The room left silent as his body lays still on the staircase, and she holds the swirling gem containing the essence that was a man she once loved.

That night Alyssa sits alone in her study, pulling down a few books of Arcane lore from her collection, and retrieving the slim wooden case behind them.  She flips open the velvet lined box, and studies the contents.  A dozen souls.  A small fraction of the collection she once had, back before she smashed them all in an attempt to cut herself off from this life.

She lets fingertips play over each stone in turn, each of them with a name labeled beneath, before settling the newest gem in place.  It doesn’t escape her that her old collection was largely made of Forsaken Souls.  It was so much easier to justify who she was back then.  Now every shard in her case represents a lost human life in and around Stormwind.  All of them guilty of something, until now.  But then, she never talked much to any of them.  How many other mistakes had there been?

Now, with it all over, she finally lets the tears flow, the gravity of her choices weighing her down as she sets the label in place beneath the gem, and closes the case to put it away.  Sleeve of her flannel shirt running across her eyes to wipe away tears as she pushes out of her seat and makes her way to her room to fall into bed.

“Goodbye Remy Thomas.  I’ll be sure y’go t’a good cause.”  A small simple prayer given to each soul she takes, but somehow, tonight, it doesn’t feel like enough.

[ayearofpike]

Falling

Tom Doherty Associates, 2007 402 pages, 24 chapters ISBN 978-0-7653-5644-4 LOC: PS3566.I486 F35 2007 OCLC: 73502344 Released March 6, 2007 (per B&N)

Matt Connor has been wronged by the girl he loves. Kelly Fienman has been wronged by the suspect she’s stalking. They’re both out for vengeance, but while Matt is upfront and honest about the stunt he plans to pull, he isn’t really honest with himself about what he actually wants to get — and for her part, Kelly pretends that her need for justice is both moral and absent. When their paths inevitably cross, they’re left with several huge questions: what is right? what is good? do these things intersect? is it OK if they don’t?

(Thanksgiving and a child’s birthday were NOT conducive to A Year of Pike, gang. Let’s see if I can pick it back up here in December.)

I remembered being really happy with this book the first time I read it. Like, OK, Pike is taking it easy on the kidlit, having maybe resigned himself to the understanding that his style no longer fits with popular expectations. Plus, this came probably three years after I’d read a recent predecessor, and a solid five years after I’d BOUGHT one  — I got Alosha and The Shaktra out of the library, never read The Yanti until just now, and then I saw Falling at a bookstore sometime in 2008. I read it and I loved it: so unexpected, such power, what a shift in tone and characters, what a strong and solid cliffhanger ending — literally! Surely there exists some kind of excited blog record of me finding this, so long after I’d decided Pike wasn’t for me anymore. After spending entirely too long trawling the depths of my LiveJournal, though, I can’t find one.

And the reread? Eh. As it turned out, I didn’t actually remember very much about this book. Parts of it want to be The Silence of the Lambs (and Pike even nods to that) but it doesn’t have the same power. The rest? So much speculation and estimation left up to the reader to really understand this closed-book antagonist, who is actually quite selfish but we don’t get her perspective. She doesn’t even monologue when she has our hero at literally the end of his rope. And the powerful scene at the end? More like a trickle to a halt, made even weaker by the unnecessary intercutting to the other character’s perspective as she oversees the end of her antagonist’s life. We’ll get there. I don’t know. Maybe I was so excited to get this, and to have a book where a baby’s life and future hangs in the balance right around the same time I was raising my own baby as a new at-home parent, that I overlooked another one of Pike’s letdown endings.

I forgot to talk in the last post about the ISBN shifting to 13 digits. This started in 2007: all new books would have a code that better matched up with international book listing codes. These last two have had both an ISBN-10 and an ISBN-13, I assume because he had both of them slated prior to the change, but I’ve decided to just list the newer code for simplicity’s sake. You can do more research if you feel like it, or even convert back and forth between ISBN-10 and 13. It doesn’t really affect my blog, but it’s a change and I wanted to mention it.

So Falling. It actually could have been a pretty straightforward story, with much of the bulk of the book spent exploring the mental attitudes involved in what it takes to go beyond the law, commit some kind of horrific deed that most people couldn’t imagine. The real problem with this story is that it tries to cram too much into it, and the one crime is so vile and base that it renders our antihero’s misdeed into almost seeming unimportant. But it’s not — Matt’s actions are horrible and indefensible, especially as we don’t actually get his villain’s perspective, no matter what someone else did that was totally gross. (I am so a parent: “I don’t care what Tommy did, you are not to act that way.”)

What the hell does Matt actually do? This is where Falling is good: it keeps us in suspense for the first good quarter of the book as we try to understand his plan and how it’s going to adversely affect the girl. Because of course his object of vengeance is a girl — the one who just dumped him, actually. She didn’t “just dump him,” though; she strung him along as “the only one” while she was still in contact with her rich “ex,” who she is now married to and has an unborn child with, a child that could only have been conceived while Matt was still seeing her. And it’s not his, it can’t be his, because she never let him stick it in. So Matt is going to fake his own death by crashing a personal aircraft in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, he will parachute to a waiting boat, anchored in a shallower area, and assume a new identity until he can carry out the second part of his plan: kidnap the baby, months later, after everyone has forgotten his involvement with the woman.

Kelly is one of the FBI agents assigned to the kidnapping case. She’s actually just back on the job after a tragic and devastating incident with a previous suspect that has taken out a good chunk of her GI system. And this is where Falling has problems: this second story, totally unrelated to and unnecessary for understanding Matt’s motivations, is clung to and pushed on us constantly through the whole book, even as it threatens to be a more engaging tale of horrific glee. Like, I get why Pike didn’t just write this one (out of concerns of being accused of ripping off Thomas Harris) but this is really TWO suspense stories, and he hasn’t properly fleshed out the tale of Kelly and the Sex Murderin’ English Teacher.

Because that’s what’s happened: three-four months before the kidnapping, she gets pulled into an investigation on a dude who has made videos of himself having extremely consensual sex with rich women, tying them to the beds, confronting them about their obvious infidelity to their rich husbands, and then killing them by pouring corrosive acid on (and then INTO) their chests. She has a Ph.D in mythology and literature, which they need because the dude is throwin’ out all sorts of esoteric references and they think that knowing them will help them track him down. Of course, Kelly has gone into FBI work because she wants to be a hero, and so she breaks like EVERY protocol in investigating the trail of these obscure Asian myths back to either Ohio State or Ohio University, depending on which page you look at. (Does Pike know there’s a difference?) All the evidence points to a doctoral student, but it’s been manipulated that way by his faculty advisor, who is doing the sex murders because he caught his wife cheating with the dude. And now he’s going to kill Kelly the same way, only he hasn’t counted on her being a totally buff FBI agent who actually MOVES THE ENTIRE BED SHE’S TIED TO and makes the acid splash on the ropes, which she can now break to get at her gun and cap the fucker in the back of the neck. Of course, the acid has also splashed on her stomach and eaten into her organs, hence the GI problems. And also her husband is pissed that she went to such crazy lengths and endangered herself, to the point where if she goes back to the FBI he’s not willing to hang around and watch her kill herself. So he moves out and takes their young daughter with him.

I KNOW. This is a WAY more fuckin’ interesting story than oh, boo hoo, she was stringing me along so I’m gonna kidnap her baby. It’s too bad that he drags this shit out and doesn’t give it more consideration. But as with so much literature, we gotta accept the tragic male antihero versus the strong female agent who is still trying to figure out the boundaries of her moral code.

Yeah, there’s still more story. Matt hires a nanny under the table to help take care of the baby, and she thinks they look alike. You hear this all the time as a parent, even if your kid looks NOTHING like you — but Matt’s curious, so he does a mail-away DNA test and it comes back unquestionably that he’s actually the father. So now he knows he can’t just bail on the kid like he was planning, but he needs money to raise him. So he sets up an intricate ransom for his ex and her husband, who has money (of course he has money; why do you think she married him?). Matt makes the dude put $3 million in cash and jewels into a bag, then chase all over metro LA until he finally ends up taking a boat out to Catalina Island. But halfway there, he instructs the husband to load the dough into a weighted box and throw it overboard. Because of course Matt is a scuba diver — this is a Pike book, after all. He retrieves the money and then uses a personal propeller to zip off underwater. And the FBI, which was so prepared for an island drop or a boat handoff, is caught with their pants all the way down.

Of course Kelly is furious, but also curious. She remembers seeing a picture of Matt in the woman’s desk, and asks about the circumstances of his death. It seems that the day Matt’s plane crashed, he had been on Catalina — finishing up his scuba certification. So now Kelly has connected the dots, in a way only a Pike heroine can, but she can’t imagine where to find the dude. But she knows someone who can: a certain Sex Murderin’ English Teacher, who is still alive but paralyzed from the neck down, who knows better than anyone Kelly knows how a twisted male mind works. He grasps the intricacies of the situation immediately and advises Kelly to follow the woman, because there’s no way she’s unaware.

Kelly doesn’t believe it, but sure enough the chick leads her directly to Matt and the baby, set up in a fancy apartment not even that far from the rich husband’s house. It seems that Matt felt like he had all the leverage he needed to get the girl back, now that he had the baby and some money. But it’s not enough — she knows that the dude isn’t ever going to let her just go, and that the only way to be totally free to be back with Matt is if they kill her husband. So Matt, against his better judgment, starts coming up with a plan to murder a dude: drive his boat to Catalina, get him super drunk, and then push him overboard on the way back. The girl, weirdly, insists that Matt has to be on board and actually do the pushing. Which makes Kelly, listening in on her bugs planted in the apartment, start to think that maybe she’s the actual monster, even though Matt has faked his own death and then kidnapped her son. So she affects her own secret identity and moves into the complex to get closer to the situation but also to try to keep Matt from doing something he’ll regret.

Matt actually has no intention of killing the husband. His plan was pretty much always to tag along on the boat and then get the girl to fake her OWN death, and then they can be free and alone and untraceable. But but but, the girl objects, if she is dead and not the husband, then she won’t be heir to all his money! But Matt flatly refuses to push the dude. So she goes ahead and does it. Unlucky for her, they’re being tailed by — who else? — Kelly the Hero, who now has enough circumstantial evidence to arrest the woman for murder. Her father-in-law bails her out of jail, raising more weird questions, and then she manages to convince Matt to help her jump bail and escape with all her worldly possessions. They make it to Utah the first night, but the ten minutes Matt runs out to buy diapers and formula is long enough for a dude to bust in and tie his girl to the bed and be looming over her with a beaker full of acid when he gets back.

Holy shit, right? By now Matt knows who Kelly is and has gotten her backstory, and he knows that she’s willing to let him slide on the whole kidnap kerfuffle, so he calls her with this weird coincidence. But there’s no way it could be SMET, who is totally paralyzed! But Kelly now fears for HIS ex-wife’s life, and flies back to Ohio to do another check on this whole twisted clan. The best thing she can think of is to do a home stakeout with the lady and her new man, the grad student she was cheating with. Only — uh-oh — turns out the dude is in cahoots with SMET the whole time! His whole life, in fact: Cheatin’ Grad Student is SMET’s little brother! Their mother was also a cheater, and died of complications from their dad pushing her down the stairs after he found out. But wait! It seems that SMET actually did the killing, replacing her cardiac epinephrine shot with vinegar, so when she seized in her hospital bed it was the attempt to save her that killed her. Please note: SMET did this as a motherfucking TEN YEAR OLD. From there, he realized the thrill of destroying loose women and employed his little brother in helping to deface and dispose of the bodies.

So it only follows that he’d employ the dude to lure his wife, and was devastated when she bit, and that has turned into more killin’. In fact, it was CGS who was in Utah the night before, on his brother’s orders, ready to take down another terrible, cheating, murdering, bail-jumping lady. But this kid is even more debased than his brother, and is just going to rape and dismember Kelly while his new bae is knocked out from drugs in her dinner. Luckily she has her own syringe of cardiac vinegar, uncovered in her prior search of the dad’s house, and she manages to stab it into CGS’s heart just in the nick of time.

What’s up with Matt and the On-the-Lam Family? No big, they’re just doing some leisurely rock climbing now that they’re free from dead rich husbands or acid murderers. This, it turns out, is Matt’s one final big test to his girl’s fidelity — and she fails big time, cutting his rope and leaving him stranded on the edge of a cliff while he’s rappelling. But Matt’s been here before, because he’s an experienced and expert rock climber (because what the FUCK ELSE can this asshole be good at), and he manages to free-climb up the side of the cliff and catch his girl as she’s packing up the car. So now it’s her turn to be stuck on a cliff ledge, until he can get to a pay phone and call the cops on her for jumping bail. And we’re all like, good god, dude, it took you fuckin’ well long enough.

Of course we can’t just be done, right? Kelly has a sex murderin’ English teacher to revenge. She makes it look like a suicide, unscrewing part of his wheelchair and scraping his wrist veins against it so he bleeds out. But before he goes, he wants to talk to Matt, because they’re not so different, and he’d like to congratulate a fellow charismatic criminal for getting away with his misdeeds. And then he dies, and Kelly swears off FBI work so that maybe she can go back to her family and actually appreciate it and be appreciated by them.

Um ... what? But yeah, that’s the end of Falling. Either one of these stories would have been better served by itself, unless he could have given us Kelly’s necessary backstory in the beginning rather than trying to make everything happen at the same time. It comes across as excessive and unnecessary, and makes the ending fall flat. And when you have a blah ending, it doesn’t matter how vibrant the characters have been, or how real and horrific their struggles, or how much you sympathized with them throughout the narrative. All you remember is the “um ... what?”

[thefemdomenchantress]

The Enchantress #89

A bit of a minor story (Edit: Never mind, it turned out long. I keep doing this to myself!) in between big works. These are the same amazons from #32. I like to believe that the amazons weren’t bad people and really didn’t understand how the Enchantress had screwed them and the hero over at the time. They’re pals now.

Hero: I come bearing gifts of wheat and dyes.

Amazonian Guard: Come on in, hero. You don’t need to bring a gift every time you come here.

The hero is lead into the amazonian work camp. Women all around him look up as he passes by. Some even wave at the familiar sight. He waves back.

Finally he makes it to the medicine woman of the tribe.

Amazon MW: Ah, hero. You’re the only one male that I would trust with the task.

Hero: What is it that you need of me, medicine woman?

Amazon MW: Not a simple task at all, I’m afraid. Please, come into the tent and see for yourself.

They walk into a stone and wood building that serves as the village infirmary. They walk to a sealed off door, which the medicine woman unlocks. They both enter the room.

It’s a windowless room kept aglow with glowing fungi. There is a bed. Upon that bed is a young amazonian woman who couldn’t be much more than twenty years of age. She sits up as they enter the room and smiles, her eyes barely open.

Hero: Who is this?

Amazon MW: She is called “Fire Heir” and is the youngest heir to the East Amazonian throne. She will one day inherit control of not insubstantial amount of land and resources. But she’s ill.

Fire Heir: ~Tee hee~ A man! How funny…

Amazon MW: Don’t mind her. She’s been possessed by some sort of magical affliction that I don’t have a cure for readily available. It warps her personality, drowns her inhibitions and makes her say what’s on her mind-

Fire Heir: Oh my Gods! I’m going to die!

Amazon MW: No no no! It’s not fatal at all, dear! *Turning to the hero and whispering* But it could be permanent if it’s not treated soon. I may not know much about this ailment, but I bet a well traveled person such as yourself has seen at least something similar before?

Hero: I have, yes. And there has always been either a cure or treatment. I’m sure there’s one for this too.

Amazon MW: Excellent! I am confident that with your experience and resources we shall be able to cure her. But I will also need you to act as this Fire Heir’s caretaker as well.

Hero: But why ask me to do this? I’m sure you have amazons who would be better equipped for this job.

Amazon MW: Two reasons, hero. One, there is a rule among us that heirs to the throne may not be touched by any fellow amazons aside from us medicine women.

Hero: Hmm. That’s not as uncommon a rule as you’d think. I know many countries and kingdoms who have even stricter laws pertaining to how royalty is treated.

Amazon MW: The second is that Fire Heir has been the target of several assassinations since she’s been ill. Fellow heirs after her inheritance see her sickness as a chance to kill her off and pass her death as illness-related. It would work too, as much of the village believes the illness as deadlier than it is.

Fire Heir: ~They wanna off my head, ‘cuz they’re jealous of the big ol’ land I’m gonna get when my mom dies. *Giggles* I’m in tough shit, ain’t I?

Hero: I’ll protect her. And I’ll help you develop the cure. But… One question?

Amazon MW: Yes?

Hero: …Why did you not simply ask The Enchantress for help?

Amazon MW: *Looks guilty* She is still our benefactor, despite the… incident… But we trust her less and less nowadays.

Hero: Hmm.

Amazon MW: I, personally, was not available at the time when they… kidnapped you… If I had I would have determined the true cause of their illnesses in time to stop them-!

Hero: I don’t blame you, medicine woman. Nor do I blame your queendom. Let’s get to work.

*** *** ***

Hero: It’s been three days, Fire Heir. Me and the medicine woman are still hard at work. Are you feeling okay? Feeling any better, at least?

Fire Heir: *Grabs the hero by the shoulder* Nope! Still a dumb dumb!

Hero: It’s not permanent. I assure you.

Fire Heir: ~Hehehe, it’s not that bad! I definitely feel happier this way. Is that wrong?

Hero: Well, whether you’re happy or not we’re still gonna cure you. *Takes her hands off his shoulder, but she fights back*

Fire Heir: ~Nooo, please! Let me touch you!

Hero: Huh?

Fire Heir: ~I haven’t felt anyone’s skin since I was a child! Except for the ol’ medicine woman.

Hero: Um, I don’t think I should- Oof!

The heir pulled the hero down onto the bed, and fell asleep holding him in her muscular arms. Her illness did nothing to hinder her physical might. The hero remained trapped in her arms until rescued by the medicine woman.

*** *** ***

Fire Heir: ~You two are spending SO MUCH time together! Are you dating?

Amazon MW: *Chuckling as she rubs oil on Fire Heir’s bare back* I doubt my wife would approve of that, Fire Heir. Besides, everyone knows of the hero’s tangled mess of a love life, and no one wants to get caught in that web.

Hero: Don’t go telling her that! She’ll misunderstand!

Fire Heir: ~Aww… I wish the hero wasn’t dating anyone… I want to mate with him…

The hero splutters and nearly drops the medicine tin as the medicine woman laughs.

Amazon MW: Fire Heir, you don’t even know what “mating” is.

*** *** ***

Hero, swinging his sword: Gah! Take THIS!

Assassin Amazon: GRAH! Damn you! May the enchantress betray you and EAT YOUR SOUL YOU DAMN-!

The assassin doesn’t get another word out as the hero kicks her in the chin, knocking her out.

Hero: Fire Heir? Where are you, you’re safe!

Fire Heir peers from behind the stone bed she had been hiding from.

Fire Heir: ~I’m in tough shit… I’m in such tough shit…

Hero: Hey now, no you’re not. I’ll protect you until it’s all over.

Fire Heir: ~I… I can’t… I don’t know what to do… Nothing makes sense, and maybe nothing will ever make sense again, and there are people trying to kill me and… And… And I don’t know how not to be sad about it…

The heir gasps as the hero wraps his arms around her, embracing her.

Hero: I never said you couldn’t be sad. I just said it’s going to be okay.

The heir sobbed into his shoulder.

*** *** ***

Hero: We’ve made some progress. The problem remains, however, that this cure will be a little more painful than we anticipated. Lots of injections, needles, and even minor surgery to extract the parasite…

Amazon MW: The worst part is that there is no anaesthetic that works on Amazon bodies.

Hero: Well, we’ll have to make the world’s first one then. I have grown protective of Fire Heir and I want to see what she’s like when she isn’t sick.

Amazon MW: I too would like to see her old self again. So soft and polite… On the topic, have you taken to sleeping beside her?

Hero: It comforts her, I think.

*** *** ***

Fire Heir: …~Hero?

Hero, reading a book about surgery: Yes?

Fire Heir: ~Will you tell me about the enchantress and the princess?

Hero: … *Puts the book away* How do you know about them?

Fire Heir:  ~D’aw, everyone knows about them you silly bison, you! The enchantress says she’s your real girl and the princess is just a girl on the side but… We don’t trust her all that much…

Hero: Oh. Well, don’t believe anything she says. I don’t want to talk about them.

Fire Heir: ~ Oh Come on! Just a little bit, please?

Hero: …Would it make you happy?

Fire Heir: ~Happy enough to sleep alone at night again, if that’s what it’ll take to get you to talk.

Hero: Hmm… Okay. Well, you know the enchantress. I don’t know what she’s said to you, but she and I actually don’t-

Fire Heir: ~ No no no, please start with the juicier stuff! We know a lot about the enchantress already so tell me about the princess first!

Hero: Sure. She… She was my best friend. I met her when we were really young. I was around six, maybe seven. And she’s royal, just like you I suppose.

Fire Heir: ~Oooh, so she wasn’t allowed to be touched by anyone either?

Hero: Anyone of peasant blood. That means… You know what? Never mind. It just means she wasn’t allowed to be touched by basically anyone. But she also wasn’t allowed to have friends. She was raised mostly by caretakers.

Fire Heir: ~Just like me…

Hero: She knew nothing of the world. Even I knew moreso than her, and I was feral. So I would sneak into her room at night and we’d play and learn from each other.

Fire Heir: ~And mate?

Hero: No. We’d play, and pretend we had normal lives. I’d go on long quests, but I always came back to her, with gifts and cool stories to tell. She… she was my first home.

Fire Heir: ~Oh…

Hero: But we don’t play anymore. We still talk, and we’re still friendly. But… But we can’t talk to each other like we used to.

Fire Heir: ~You don’t touch? You don’t hug, or kiss, or at least hold hands?

Hero: We used to. We don’t anymore. Because we know it’s best for her this way. One day she will…

The hero takes a minute to collect himself. Fire Heir notices how deep a breath he takes before he speaks again.

Hero: She’ll marry someone else. A prince, or duke… someone a princess is supposed to marry. So we can’t pretend we’re… that we can be close.

Fire Heir: … ~I think you two should still touch.

Hero: Why do you think so?

Fire Heir: ~I know for a fact that she probably wants to, and not being able to must be killing her.

Hero: … I suppose-!

The Fire Heir is suddenly slapping him on the head like a drum.

Fire Heir: ~Don’t be a meanie to your princess, fuckhead!

*** *** ***

Fire Heir: ~Nooo! Let them go, you shitty cunts!

Assassin #1: Only if you comply, girl.

The hero is held down by two assassins as a third holds a knife to the medicine woman. Fire Heir is standing up, swaying from the effort. She holds the hero’s sword, which had been knocked out of his hands previously.

Fire Heir: You awful troglodytes! Don’t you hurt them!

Assassin #1: While the hero has been kept awake by your night terrors, neediness, and trite whining we have been plotting this moment! Stop resisting and let us poison you. We can’t use our swords on you, unfortunately.

The assassin walks up to the Fire Heir, confident in her ability to deal with a sick woman who has never wielded a weapon in her life before… and is given a burning cut across her fingers for her troubles.

Assassin #1: Tch! Surprising… So the hero’s taught you a few tricks… But you’re still too weak for me. Girls, keep the medicine woman in chains. We’ll need to make sure her death matches Fire Heir’s so we can claim them as “symptoms” of “illness.”

Assassin #2: What about the hero?

Assassin #1: *Grinning* Do what you will.

One of the assassins knead the hero’s crotch through his pants. Fire Heir almost drops the sword in shock. The hero squirms as he grows erect.

Hero: Urk! D-damn it…

Fire Heir: ~W-wait… what’s going on?

Assassin #1: You’ve never seen a male orgasm before, have you? Growing distracted I see.

Fire Heir watches, mesmerized as the hero squirms in their grasp, trying to resist. The way he wiggles his hips, the way he begins to moan, the way he seems to unwillingly enjoy the torture despite hating it…

She almost doesn’t notice the assassin approaching her until it is almost too late. In her shock she follows her instinct and throws the sword back to the hero.

The hero catches it in his mouth, slashing at his two surprised opponents. He quickly dives at the head assassin, slaying her before she could touch the heir. The ones holding the medicine woman had already fled.

Fire Heir:~Is… Is medicine woman safe?

Hero: She’ll be fine. They merely slipped her some sleeping powder. I’m proud of you, heir. You did the best you-?

Fire Heir had leaned down at the hero and was poking at his crotch, looking at it in curiosity. The hero doesn’t move, bewildered. Even among corpses of assassins, the dazed woman is more focused on his cock.

The hero tries to tell her to stop, but she is too out of it to hear him. He tries to pry her wrist away from his cock, but she’s too strong and has already wrapped two hands around his erection through his pants.

He doesn’t want to hurt her, and every other method of removing her in his skill set would do so. So he stands there and vainly struggles to stop her.

She pulls down his pants. He’s erect and hard. She holds his cock in her hands, feeling the warmth. It’s large, much larger than the biology books implied. The tip is growing wet. She squeezes gently and hears the hero moan. The sound is delicious.

Hero: Fire Heir…

She squeezes again. And again. It’s growing wet at the tip. She squeezes again, but this time she doesn’t let go. She holds it and tugs once to see what would happen and hears the hero yelp.

Hero: Fire Heir!

She wants so badly to know what it would taste like…

Hero: FIRE HEIR!

Fire heir hears him and looks up. The hero is staring frantically at her, trying to pull away from her firm, tight grasp. He’s obviously uncomfortable.

Guiltily, she let go.

*** *** ***

Hero: We did it… But I feel as though we’ve sold our souls to the devil.

Amazon MW: It’s the world’s first anaesthetic for amazons. I’m shocked we accomplished such a feat, even if it’s unorthodox.

Fire Heir: ~What? What kind of anamawhatzit? What’s so weird about it? *Giggles* You’re all being so serious, but isn’t this a good thing?

Hero: … This chemical that we’re about to inject in you will not only put you to sleep, but you won’t wake up or feel pain until the surgery is over. However…

Fire Heir: ~ Yes? YES?

Amazon MW: You’ll experience an hour long orgasm.

Fire Heir: ~Hmm? An hour long whatzit now?

Hero: We’ve… we’ve basically invented orgasm in a bottle.

Amazon MW: I doesn’t create orgasms, per se. But it will extend any that she feels after consumption, and heighten it to the point where it’s 95% of what her body will feel.

Hero: Theoretically blocking out her body’s pain receptors. Not a perfect anesthesia since she won’t be in a relaxed state, but for the minor surgery required…

Fire Heir: ~Hmm… I don’t completely know what you’re saying… But I do know this. I think HERO should be the one to give me the Orgasm or whatever!

Hero: HUH?

Fire Heir: ~Yes, that sounds right. Medicine woman is experienced in all things medicine, so she’ll need to give me the drug… so the hero should do the orgasm making! Yes, that makes sense! In the interest of self preservation I demand that this is how it is done, or there will be NO surgery!

The heir smiles brightly before staring off into space. The hero and medicine woman were not fooled, however. It was obvious that, as inexperienced as she may be and as much as her magic affliction was affecting her, that she was not as clueless about the topic as she appeared.

Amazon MW: Well… It’s her orders… And I do think it’s best it is you anyway. You’re far closer to her age than I ever will be, so it’s more appropriate.

Hero: I know, but… Damn it.

Amazon MW: *Muttering* Damn near everyone on the island knows you’re good with your fingers.

Hero: FINE.

*** *** ***

The drug is administered by the medicine woman. The Fire Heir lay nude on the bed. The hero places his fingers close to her pussy lips, but doesn’t quite enter her with his fingers or tongue yet.

Making use of his extensive experiences, he teases her by slowly edging closer and closer to her pussy’s inner walls, tasting the outer folds gently. The heir shudders. One finger gently spreading his saliva around while the other gently pressed inward.

The hero’s teasing is quite effective as the dazed and delirious heir decides to grab his hair and pull him closer. His protests are shut down as she squeezes him between her thighs.

His tongue works its magic, touching and lathering up her pussy, and circling around her clit. Around… around… closer and closer until…

Fire Heir: ~Nooo! Wait! I changed my mind!

The heir squeezes the hero’s head with her thighs like a vice, signalling him to stop.

Fire Heir: ~Please… Hero… Not with your tongue… With your dick. Pleeease…

Hero: Mmph!

Fire Heir: ~ I want to feel it for real… Please…

The hero frees himself from her thighs and stared bewildered. He looks at the Medicine Woman, not sure how to proceed. She’s already preparing the hero a condom.

He applies the condom and position himself between the heir’s legs. She’s already spreading them, ready for him.

He penetrates her slowly, and when he hears her gasp he quickens the pace.

An amazon’s sex organ, likewise with anyone with a vagina, loosens when aroused. But because of their powerful muscles they also tighten, firmly caressing and squeezing any penis inserted.

Fire Heir gasps and bucks as the hero keeps his pace steady, desperate not to cum early and ruin the op. He need not worry though. The heir cums in a loud, scream filled orgasm.

Her body convulses in pleasure and continues to do so long after one minute passes. She bounces and squirms, until the medicine puts her to sleep, though it’s clear that even in her dreams she is experiencing unnatural bliss.

*** ***

Two hours pass.

Amazon MW: … There. The surgery is finished, and she should be cured of this magical mind affliction.

Hero: Now we just wait until she awakens.

Amazon MW: … This anesthetic we’ve created… It works on humans too.

Hero: . .  .

Amazon MW: We can’t hide it from the enchantress, hero. She’ll find out, and if we don’t give it to her she might punish us. And when we give it to her… you’ll be the first person she tries it on.

Hero: I know.

Amazon MW: I can develop an antidote for it…

Hero: But not immediately, right?

Amazon MW: No.

Hero: Damn.

Fire Heir: Ugh… So bright…

Amazon MW: Fire Heir! You’re awake. How are you?

Fire Heir: I am… feeling very ill. And my head and sides hurt. But… I think I feel better than I have in weeks.

Hero: Wow, is this how you normally speak?

The heir saw the hero and grew red and embarrassed, an emotion he had never seen on her before.

Fire Heir: Great hero. I… I must apologize for the way I’ve been treating you. I’m deeply ashamed.

Hero: You were not in the right state of mind. You were sick and under duress. No need for apologies, your majesty.

Amazon MW: Sleep well, young one. We will have to announce that you’re better in the morning. The assassination attempts will stop now that your death can’t be disguised as a natural cause.

*** *** ***

The ceremony celebrating Fire Heir’s health was over the top by design, meant to spread the word far and wide. The amazon kingdom’s three other heirs, Earth heir, Wind Heir, and Metal Heir had been invited and greeted their half sister with a cheeriness too bright to be genuine. The hero wondered which of them had sent the assassins.

That question was answered when he witness the Fire Heir shake the hands of Earth Heir and whisper something in her ear. Earth Heir seemed incredible shaken for the rest of the day.

Seeing Fire Heir calm and calculating as she met with the amazonian citizens was incredible. He was used to her giggling, crying, raving, and saying whatever came to her mind with no filter at all. But here it was clear why her sister wished for her death: of the four she was the most ready to take the throne if she so wished.

After the celebrations, Fire Heir had one more gift for the hero. She grabbed his hand and brought him to her royal bedroom.

*** *** ***

Fire Heir: Hero… Before you leave tomorrow, I wanted to do something for you tonight, if you accept.

Hero: Fire heir, if you’re offering what I think you’re offering I want you to know it’s really not necessary.

Fire Heir: Please, listen. All throughout this ordeal I’ve been acting foolish, loony, and terribly aggressive. What with what the enchantress put you through last time, and what I’ve put you through now… I want to leave you with a better, more dignified idea of what sex with an amazon is like.

Hero: Are… are you sure?

Fire Heir: I’m going into the closet to change. And when I come out, if you’re still here… Well, you know.

*** *** ***

The hero was still there when she exited the closet. She wore a red and gold silk dress and held in her hands various velvety ribbons. The hero himself had taken off his shirt. Fire Heir smirked, admiring his body.

She walked up to him and took his hands in hers, beckoning him to stand.

Fire Heir: No matter what the enchantress tells us, you don’t belong to her. Though I know deep down you want to belong to the princess, you don’t. Not yet, anyway.

Hero: What do you mean?

Fire Heir: I firmly believe that next time you meet with your princess you’ll, hopefully, wisen up. And then you won’t be single anymore. Which means this is my last chance to do this.

Hero: To do what?

Fire Heir: To make love to you without guilt.

She kissed him on the lips. Not hungrily, but for a long, long time. Then she took his hands and folded them firmly, but gently, behind his back, wrapping them in the velvet ribbons. The hero raised an eyebrow.

Fire Heir: Amazons like to show off the superiority of their muscles to males they sleep with. Regular amazons do so with wrestling, play-fighting, and the like. I myself did this to you when I was delirious.

Hero: You don’t have to apologize.

Fire Heir: I know. You made that clear. But I do have to correct myself. I am a royal amazon. We royal amazons show off our strength through a demonstration.

Fire Heir picked up a few velvet ribbons between her two fingers and easily tore them neatly in two. She nodded for the hero to try and free himself of the ribbons tying him up. Struggle as he might, the hero couldn’t escape the bondage.

Fire Heir: Hero… It’s exciting, isn’t it? Being in the presence of someone so much stronger than you…

Hero: K-kind of…

The Fire Heir pushed him down onto the bed and crawled atop him, her two muscular arms holding her up like two powerful pillars. The hero couldn’t help but stare.

Fire Heir: It excites you, knowing that even if you didn’t agree to this I could, if I wanted to, take you anyways.

Hero: …

Fire Heir: I am your superior, hero. In a fight between us perhaps you could be the victor, but never a grapple, or a contest of strength. Admit it.

Hero: I… I admit you’re stronger than I am.

Fire Heir: No, hero. Admit that you love being weaker than I am.

Hero: N-no. That’s not true…!

The Fire Heir slipped his pants down with her dexterous feet. She wrapped a finger around his cock and smiled.

Fire Heir: You will admit it.

Hero: You won’t get me to say that.

Fire Heir: There’s no resisting a royal amazon, hero.

Hero: T-try me…

A poor choice of wording. The heir gripped him and pumped him with her powerful fingers, all while keeping her lustful and playful gaze on the hero. Then, when he was just beginning to moan, she wrapped her lips around his tip, driving him crazy, desperately squirming to try and escape the ribbons tying him down.

Fire Heir: Mmm, so that is how you taste…

She stood up on her knees, letting go of the hero’s cock. She giggled at his disappointment.

She took off her underwear, but kept the dress on. She positioned herself over the hero’s erection, hands around her waist. She smiled smugly.

Fire Heir: Before I lower myself, I want to hear you say it.

Hero: D-damn it…

Fire Heir: Do it. It’ll make me enjoy this so much more. It will make me feel so confident and superior as I dominate you.

Hero: I… I love… being weaker than you… Please. Take me.

The heir laughed as she lowered herself, positioning herself carefully and taking the hero in her. He gasped as she rocked back and forth. She squeezed him firm in her muscles, enjoying his reactions. She loved dominating him so thoroughly.

She never took her hands off her hips, and despite enjoying his dick immensely, controlled her face as to treat the hero as though she wasn’t putting her all into dominating him. She almost hummed.

But she as the hero came so close to cumming she decided to drop the act. She laughed and screamed, and rode him with passion.

And the hero came with such an intensity, with her following along soon after.

And then they were spent.

Fire Heir: Heh heh… Yes! This time you came first.

Hero: Guilty as charged…

Fire Heir: *Chuckle* Ready to go again? We amazon royalty have infamous endurance.

Hero: Please… Have mercy…

Fire Heir: *Whispers* Never.

[The End]

*** *** ***

[I wrote this meaning for it to be a short just because I wanted to revisit the Amazons from #32. It turned into this. Whoops. ]

[Bonus Hero x Princess stuff under the line. If you’re just here for the smut, that’s all folks!]

*** *** ***

The hero stood in the palace gardens, approaching the wall corner. This was how they always met: speaking from their side of a corner, facing the other way. Never touching. Safe.

He heard the princess on the other side.

Hero: Hey.

Princess: It’s been a while.

Hero: What have you been up to?

Princess: Trying to get my father to grant me more time in the library. And snooping in on conversations about politics and wars, that kind of stuff. Haven’t found out anything useful though. How about you?

Hero: I’ve been in the amazon kingdom. They needed me to help them save one of their heirs.

Princess: I see.

Hero: Um… I also slept with their heir. It wasn’t anything deep. Sex and nothing more.

Princess: Heh. I don’t mind. I fantasize about sleeping with tons of guys when you’re away. Married kings, handsome incubi, Chris Hensworth…

Hero: Damn it, I never should have shown you those Earth Magazines!

Princess: I’m trying to say, it’s alright. Besides. We’re not technically… together.

Hero: But we’re still friends, right?

Princess: Forever. But…

The hero waited. He heard her sigh. The words of Fire Heir rang in his ears. “I think you two should still touch…”

Princess: It’s just… I’m starting to really hate this wall between us.

Hero: It’s… it’s so if we get caught, you can say you didn’t see me.

Princess: Maybe I should get it taken down. Then what would you do?

Hero: Princess, please.

Princess: I’m just joking. I know… being around me… makes you uncomfortable. And this wall helps ease the pain of not getting to be with each other. I don’t mind. Shall we get to work?

Hero: … Okay.

They planned out the hero’s next adventure. Ideas on where the hero should go, what he should do, which rebellions he should help with and which he should squash. All the while the urge to reach out and grab the princess’s hand grew and grew, but for all of his bravery, the hero was cursed with cowardice in this one regard.

Princess: …and that should be all.

Hero: I suppose…

Princess: I… I guess you should go.

Hero: Y-yeah…

He wanted it so badly. Just reach out… Just touch the princess…

Hero: …

Princess: …

Hero: Goodbye.

Princess: Bye.

The hero heard the princess walk away.

.

…

Hero: Princess.

Princess: Yes, hero-?!

The hero took the princess into a deep, tight, fierce hug, which she returned with equal enthusiasm.

[dontshootmespence]

No Corner of the Globe

A/N: An anon request for a Spencer x Reader where their little girl gets kidnapped and the two are in turmoil trying to track down their daughter, Alice.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

Both parents turned around, smiles plastered on their tired faces as their daughter, Alice, ran back to them to give them another hug. 

Although she was only in first grade, her elementary school had an early hours program for parents that needed to go into work early, and Alice’s mom and dad paid each time rather than a flat fee to go every day, but unfortunately they’d called in on a case, so at 7:00 am, they dropped her off. 

“Love you Mommy. Love you Daddy.”

Spencer dipped down and wrapped his arms around her, pretend snoring as he slept on her head and made her giggle. As her few classmates played in the background, Spencer and Y/N pressed featherlight kisses to her forehead before leaving for the day. “We love you too, sweetheart.”

“False alarm,” Emily said as they walked in that morning.

Y/N collapsed into her desk. “What happened?” She was so tired. While she was glad the case didn’t need their attention, she was disappointed that they’d had to leave Alice at school so early in the morning.

Matt walked in from the hallway with Garcia right behind him, her hot pink heels clicking against the floor. “We had an Amber Alert in the area, but it turns out she ran off after an argument and now she’s back home.”

“Well, thank god for that,” Spencer said, his eyes heavy as he brought his wife a cup of coffee. “We dropped Alice off early.”

Emily felt bad; she knew that Spencer and Y/N didn’t like dropping her off early if they didn’t have to. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Y/N pulled a stack of papers that was practically teetering off the side of the desk toward her. If they were going to be in the office early, they might as well get some work done. “I’m just glad the girl is home safely.”

“Me too,” Spencer said. His arm was rested on the back of his wife’s chair and slowly but surely he stopped bearing weight on it, eventually falling and resting his head on top of hers. He started pretend snoring like he did on Alice earlier and she giggled much the same. Spencer was convinced his the sound of his daughter’s laughter came from his wife. She patted his head, playing with his hair for a minute before telling him to go fall asleep at his desk so she could get some work done.

Spencer sleepily walked over to his desk, running into JJ and Emily along the way and pretending to sleep on them too. “You’re a dork, Reid,” Emily laughed.

“I know.”

Paperwork days were both a blessing and a curse. Sure, they didn’t have a case, which meant that no one was in immediate, which was amazing, but paperwork, especially Bureau paperwork, was mind-numbingly boring. 

When Y/N’s phone rang five hours later, she was shaken from her hypnotic paper-induced trance to see Tess, the nanny’s, phone number. “Hey Tess,” she greeted, still entranced by the monotony of Bureau papers. “What’s up?”

“I-I-I’m so sorry. I turned my back for one second.” Her voice was so shaky, Y/N could almost hear the bile rise in the woman’s throat and her heart sunk in turn.

“What happened?”

“I turned to talk to her teacher for a second and she said she was going to talk to Briana. I went to find Briana and she wasn’t there, oh my god, Y/N I’m so sorry!”

Spencer had seen her face from across the room. “What happened?”

“Alice is missing.”

Panic overtook him before he turned around and screamed into Emily’s office. “We need an Amber alert out on Alice now!”

With five minutes, the entire floor was buzzing with people. Emily had called everyone to turn their attention toward this case. “One of our own is missing,” Emily started, her breathe catching in her throat. “Alice Reid went missing from her school. Maybe she wandered off. Maybe she was taken. But until we know, we do not sleep.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman walk in with an envelope in her hand - a delivery. “What is this?”

“It’s a DVD.” “Did you watch it?” Emily asked. Y/N and Spencer ran up behind her. 

The young blonde looked scared. “Only because I didn’t know what it was, but once I saw it and read the note I brought it straight here. It was slipped under my office door. I work at the law firm on 9th Street.”

“What’s on it?” Spencer asked. He stared down at the disc in horror. This was his worst nightmare come to fruition. 

“There’s a little girl reading from a piece of paper.”

Emily took it and turned to them. “You shouldn’t watch this.”

Y/N choked on her words as she spoke. “How c-can we not? Emily, that’s probably our baby.”

“We have no idea what else is on this disc...” The last thing she wanted was for her friends to witness something despicable being done to their child. 

Spencer swallowed back vomit and took the disc, running into the conference room as Y/N and the rest of the Bureau followed behind. When the disc turned on, their worst fears were confirmed. Alice was sitting tied to a chair with a gun to her head. The man’s voice was disguised as he spoke. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Read from the paper like I told you too. And everything will be okay.”

Y/N’s hands clenched as she saw the man brush the gun through her daughter’s hair. If she found him, she would kill him - no hesitation. 

“Listen carefully,” Alice started, the tears streaming down her face. “If you want to see your little girl again, you will do exactly was we say.” That’s when Spencer noticed another kidnapper standing toward the back of the frame. “We want $5 million dollars for her safe return. Only one parent will be allowed to bring us our ransom. If anyone else comes, the little girl dies.” She looked toward the man, her lip quivering.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice obviously distorted. “Mommy and Daddy will give me money and you’ll get to go home. Keep reading.”

Her eyes were so filled with tears that she couldn’t even see the paper. Spencer almost threw up when the man wiped his daughter’s tears away. He’d never felt so enraged in all his life. He prayed that someone else found these people before he did, because he would not hesitate to kill them. “If you agree to our terms, one of you will respond via the 5:00 news. You have 24 hours to agree to our terms. If you agree to our terms, we will send another disc detailing what is to be done next. We look forward to hearing from you.”

At that moment, the DVD cut off. 

“Oh god,” Spencer said, falling to the floor. “If they hurt her, I’ll kill them. Emily, I’ll kill them all, I swear. Please...” He stood up and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Please help us get her back. Please!”

Y/N broke down, her heart pounding so fast she thought she might die from shock and anger and heartache. 

While the two parents sobbed, Garcia hugged them, promising that she’d track them down. Emily, JJ, Tara, Rossi, Matt and Luke all began profiling at the speed of light.

JJ ran to call the local news station, switching right back into liaison mode because it was necessary. “While JJ does that, Y/N you’re going to go on TV.”

“Why me?” She asked. She couldn’t breathe.

Spencer couldn’t control his thoughts. It wasn’t computing in his head why one should speak to the criminals over the others. “If they are going to be moved by anyone, it’s a woman,” Luke said. He was right. Of course he was right. He and Y/N sat down numb as the team told them what they were going to do. “Y/N, you’ll get on and tell them that you’re going to do what they ask. Make sure you humanize Alice in their minds. Be careful what you say. It’s the money they want. They don’t want her.”

Spencer would immediately get on air and threaten their lives. That’s why he wasn’t going on, but he wasn’t so sure Y/N was going to be able to completely hold her composure either. Tara crouched in front of Y/N and grabbed her hands. “Stay strong. You can do this. We’re going to get her back.”

JJ ran back into the room. “We need to get to the news station. We’ll be on in 20 minutes.”

As they ran out of the bullpen, the rest of the Bureau poured over the DVD trying to discern every possible detail they could to figure out where Alice was being kept. 

“I can’t do this, Spence,” she said.

He hugged her close. “You can. I know you can.” He was so scared, but he believed in his wife. “We’re going to get her back.”

“But what if..w-what...” She wanted to ask what would happen if they couldn’t find her. How would their little girl feel knowing Mommy and Daddy couldn’t save her? “Oh my god...I can’t do this...” Her breaths were rattling in her chest. It was only Spencer’s firm touch that was reminding her to breathe at all.

“Y/N, your on in 20 seconds. You can do this,” JJ said. “Take a deep breathe.”

She did as she was told and walked in front of the camera.

Five...four...three...two...one...

“My name is Special Agent Y/N Reid with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. To the two people that have our daughter, my husband and I have heard your demands and we agree to your terms.” Her throat was on fire. How was she supposed to get through this with any sort of composure? The tears were already burning her eyes. “A-Alice is just a little girl,” she continued as the tears fell. “All we w-want is for her to come home safely.”

Spencer stood behind the camera, giving her nods of encouragement as his hands shook. 

“She’s such a smart little girl. And so carefree and compassionate...” Her mind drifted for a second. Alice was just learning to ride a bike and starting her multiplication tables despite her young age. She was their perfect little angel and some bastard had her in their grasp. “All we want is her back safely. We will get you what you want.”

They were about to cut the feed when Y/N decided to add one more thing. “I swear on my life, I will get you what you want, but if you hurt one hair on my daughter’s head, there is no corner of the globe you will be able to escape to where I will not find you.”

Her fists clenched as the camera cut and JJ ran toward her. Spencer followed closely behind. “You did great,” she said softly, wiping the tears away with the pads of her thumbs.

“What about that last bit? I couldn’t help m-myself,” she replied. “But what if it made them mad and they hurt her. JJ what have I done!?”

Spencer enveloped her as she screamed. 

“What have I done?”

His hand rubbed the back of her head. “It’s okay. Like everyone said before. They want the money. They know they won’t get it if anything happens to her.”

What had she done?

The kidnappers watched the mother’s impassioned plea. “See?” He said to Alice. “Mommy and Daddy are giving us what we want. You get to go home soon.”

Alice took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure she could cry anymore. Plus, Mommy and Daddy always told her to be brave. “Just don’t hurt me,” she said softly. “I just want to go home.”

“Soon, sweetheart,” he replied, as he tapped his finger underneath her chin. She shuddered, but said nothing. “Soon.”

As the kidnappers had promised, a second disc was brought to the Bureau by another random citizen whose door it had been slipped under. This one had the kidnappers speaking directly.

“I will be at the Chevy Chase Pavilion ‘s food court at 8:30 this evening. One parent will be there. Just one. I will slit her throat if I see any other officers in the vicinity. You will have my money on hand. We will exchange one for the other. Everyone will have what they want. Remember, do not attempt to bring anyone else. My accomplice will be on the upper floor with a gun in hand. If anything does not go according to plan, he has been told to shoot without mercy. If you do not want blood on your hands, you will do as I say.”

“How do we do this?” Spencer asked.

Neither of them had cried since the news station. They were just walking around like zombies taking instruction whenever someone spoke to them. “Since Y/N made the threat, you’ll go,” Rossi said. “We have the money in here.” He handed over a heavy attache case and Y/N opened it. 

“How?” It was five million dollars.

Rossi kissed her forehead. “I put up collateral. It’s mine.”

“Thank you,” she sobbed.

Spencer looked toward the ground, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Rossi.”

He nodded. Later on, he’d break down his walls a bit. Right now, Spencer and Y/N needed him strong. “Let’s go get your little girl back.”

Spencer and Y/N had been informed of the plan. The bureau would be there in plain clothes, guns tucked away. Local law enforcement would be doing the same. Beyond that though, he didn’t remember anything except for what he was supposed to do. 

His hand gripped the handle of the case as he scanned the crowd. There were so many people in here. How was he supposed to do this without getting anyone hurt in the process?

Across the way, near the pizza place, he saw her. Alice was standing with a man’s hand on her shoulder. It took everything in Spencer’s body not to go charging toward him.

With the money in hand, Spencer walked across the mall. The look in Alice’s eyes when he approached nearly broke his heart. She looked like she felt bad. Like she thought this was her fault. “Give me my daughter,” he said steadily.

“Open the case slightly so I can see what’s inside.”

Spencer did as the man said. Alice stayed silent. When he was satisfied, Spencer closed the case and handed it over at the same time the man released his grip on Alice. 

When Alice gripped his leg, it was like he could finally breathe again. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Daddy!”

“It’s not your fault baby. It’s the bad guys.” But when he looked up, the man was already walking away. 

Thankfully, the entire BAU and local police department were in the mall. “Freeze!” The local sheriff screamed. One by one officers and agents emerged, guns drawn and ready to fire. 

He dropped the case. He was outsmarted and he knew it. Cover for himself in a crowded mall also meant that law enforcement could conceal themselves. Plus, he’d played his hand by telling them about his accomplice. He was taken down easily. Before the local officer could make an arrest, Y/N dropped her gun and ran toward him, tackling him to the ground and punching him over and over and over again. 

She had to be pulled off. She wanted him dead. She wanted every bone in his body crushed to dust, but then she looked to where the crowd had parted and saw Spencer and Alice. 

“Alice! I’m so sorry, baby!” Y/N sobbed so hard she felt like she was going to throw up. 

Spencer just felt relief. As Emily walked away, the man now in cuffs, she gave him a nod. “It’s all over,” Spencer said softly, hugging them both.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. Mommy. I’m sorry, I tried to get away, but he was too strong.”

“I know, baby, I know. It’s not your fault.” The crowd stared on, but she couldn’t care less. Clutching her daughter’s face, she kissed her cheek. “Daddy and I will never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Finally, after all the shock, Alice started to cry. “Can we go home?”

“After a quick trip to the doctor,” Spencer said. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

They started walking through the crowd and out into the parking lot where JJ was going to pick them up. Everything felt surreal as his little girl lay on his shoulder. So many other parents had not been so lucky to have their kids returned to them. It was like the reality of the situation had just set in.

“Can I sleep with you and Mommy tonight?” She asked, tears still tinging her cherubic little face. “I don’t want the bad men to come back.”

Y/N wiped her tears away. “Yes you can. And they are never coming back again. Daddy and I will never let someone take you away again. Ever.”

She’d aged 10 years in the past few hours. There was no way they could live through something like this again; it would kill them.

@jamiemelyn @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @coveofmemories @unstoppableangel8 @reddie-for-mileven @lukeassmanalvez @rmmalta @veroinnumera @lookwhatyoumademequeue @hogwarts-konoha

[mystical-flute]

Home For Christmas

After managing to defeat Mother Gothel and Lady Tremaine before Drizella cast her curse, Henry brings his family home to Storybrooke for Christmas.

"Henry, are you sure about this?"

 Ella was frowning as their group made its way through the woods to where the portal back to Storybrooke was to open in just under half an hour.

 "Of course I'm sure. You've already met my family, Ella, and they loved you and Lucy, remember?" Henry replied with a smile, looking at their daughter, who was skipping ahead of them. "You have nothing to worry about." His family had taken turns in visiting him in the New Enchanted Forest, but it was his mothers, father and stepfather who had been around the most consistently.

 "It isn't Lucy or myself that I'm worried about, Henry," Ella explained, looking further behind them to where Anastasia and Drizella were. Drizella looked as nervous as Ella did. "I'm worried about how they'll react to Drizella. I mean, after everything…"

 "It'll be okay, I promise. It won't be the first time that my family allowed a former villain into the fold," Henry explained with a wry smile on his face. "You know what my mom and aunt were like before they were welcomed into our family. I'm sure they'll be able to accept Drizella. Especially since we showed Drizella the truth about Gothel and she saved Anastasia. If anyone can accept being messed up in the head by someone that was supposed to love you, it's my mom."

 "Yeah but after everything I did to her, everything I wanted to do – " Drizella started.

 Henry could only shrug. "My aunt pretended to be my grandma's nurse and then tried to kidnap my uncle right after he was born in order to enact her curse. Not even you went so far as to harm a child. And for a lot of people, Storybrooke has been a second chance. You'll find a place to belong there, I'm sure of it." They didn't call him the Heart of the Truest Believer for nothing, after all, and he truly believed that Drizella could find her second chance in Storybrooke. " Besides, it's Christmas. They're pretty much obligated to play nice on a day like today."

 "Daddy, I see the portal!" Lucy called, standing in front of the looming white vortex. "Can I go first?!"

 "Absolutely not, Lucy," Ella said. "We go together as a family. All five of us." She looked reassuringly at her stepsisters and smiled as Henry squeezed Lucy's hand.

 They stood in a line, arms looped together, and Henry smiled. "Okay then. On three. One, two… three!"

 Henry would never get used to the feeling of going through a portal. The stomach-turning, flip-flopping feeling of being pulled between dimensions was indescribable, and not in a good way. But they got through it, and the familiar streets of Storybrooke came into view, decorated with twinkling lights, snowmen, Santa, and all of the beloved symbols from the winter season.

 "Man… it's been fifteen years and everything still looks the same," Henry said with a chuckle. "Come on. My grandparents' farm is this way."

 "Henry Mills, is that you?" a voice asked.

 Henry turned and grinned at the familiar man with the Dalmatian companion. "Archie! Did no one tell you I was coming home for the holidays?" he said with a laugh, pulling the man into a hug. "It's been so long. How are you?"

 Archie laughed in return. "I've been great, really great. I'm doing weddings full time now, but I still have my psychology office open for when people are troubled."

"I'm glad that everything's going good for you Archie." Henry leaned down to the dog with a grin. "Hey Pongo! Remember your favorite kid?" He frowned a little when the dog simply sniffed him as if he hadn't seen him before.

 The older man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Henry this… this isn't Pongo. Pongo died a few years ago. This is Lucky, Pongo's son. But uh – who do you have with you?"

 Henry mentally chastised himself for not realizing that sooner. Dalmatians didn't have the longest life span, and Pongo had already been a fully-grown dog by the time Henry came into the picture. Even with the curse having frozen everyone, Henry had been gone for fifteen years…

 "I'm sorry Archie. Pongo was a great dog," he said, standing up. "Oh, right. Archie this is my wife, Ella, my daughter Lucy and my sisters-in-law Anastasia and Drizella. Ladies, this is Archie Hopper. He's a psychologist and minister."

 "It's a pleasure to meet you all! Henry, I can't believe you're married with a daughter! They told us you were, but seeing it with my own eyes it's… well it's shocking to admit how grown up you've become!"

 Henry laughed. "You do realize I'm in my thirties now, right Archie?"

 "Yes yes, I know. But I've kept you long enough. I'm sure you family's wondering where you are. It was good to see you, Henry," Archie said with a smile and a wave, continuing his walk down the street.

 He could hear the sheep in the back yard and smiled fondly. It seemed Grandpa Charming's farm was going smoothly.

 "Grams? Gramps? We're here!" Henry called, hearing Tramp's eager barking from the side of the house.

 "Henry!" his uncle called, running up to him from the barn with a wide smile on his face."

 "Wow, look at you, Leo! You've gotten so tall buddy!" Henry said with a grin. "How's school?"

 "Not nearly as interesting as your adventures from what Mom and Dad have said! I wish they would have brought me with them last time they visited you!" Leo said, hugging him tight.

 Henry could only chuckle and return it. "Well it's better they didn't. It was pretty dicey there for a while. But we've got everything calmed down now. That's why we brought Drizella and Ana with us."

 Leo looked over at the women, before frowning. "Henry, if you think I hadn't heard what Drizella did – why did you bring her with you?"

 "Because she's changed, Leo. Or – she's changing, really. We managed to get her to see the light before it was too late. Otherwise we'd be cursed right now," Henry said. "You know your parents would do the same. Speaking of… where are they?"

 "Hm? They're in the house working on dinner. Your parents are here too. So are Zelena and Jade," Leo said with a smile. "Buuut it looks like the Golds are here. We should get inside before Mom makes us do Christmas outside and I for one am freezing. Come on Lucy, I'll race you to the door!"

 Henry laughed, watching as Gideon joined in the race and hearing the door open with a loud bang as the three disappeared inside.

 "Henry, I see you brought more than your family with you," his grandfather said, looking at Drizella with a frown. Belle didn't look much more trusting, and while Henry couldn't blame them, it was Christmas after all, and he didn't want anything to go wrong today, lest they all feel the wrath of Snow White.

 "I – I knew I shouldn't have come," Drizella said quietly.

 "No, don't say that Drizzy. You helped bring me back without hurting Lucy. You stopped yourself from casting the curse. You stopped Gothel. If they can't see it… that's their loss," Anastasia suddenly spoke up, looking at Rumplestiltskin. "She is trying. I've seen it."

 Rumple and Belle looked at each other, but nothing more was said as they entered the farmhouse, the aroma of Christmas dinner wafting through the air as Bing Crosby's voice warbled out of the radio. Henry could see Gideon and Leo showing Lucy some sort of video game, the little girl's eyes wide with curiosity and delight, and she called over Anastasia to see what the magical thing was.

 His parents looked up in surprise when they saw Drizella and Anastasia, but before any of them could speak, his grandmother appeared with a wide smile on her face.

 "Hello everyone! Thank you for bringing the salad, Belle. Drinks are in the dining room on the built-in," Snow said, taking the large bowl out of Belle's hands. "Henry, Ella, it's so nice to see you again. Who else did you – oh. Drizella, right?"

 Drizella swallowed tight, nodding as Henry braced himself for round two of trouble.

 Instead, Snow smiled. "It's nice to see you again. Merry Christmas. Are you thirsty? I'll get you something to drink."

 "M-Merry Christmas, Snow," Drizella managed to say. "U-um, yes, I'd like a drink. Wine, if you have any."

 Snow nodded. "Sure, come with me and I'll get you a glass."

 Henry smiled and leaned over to Ella. "See? Things are going to be okay. Anastasia and Lucy are with Leo and Gideon and Drizella is being welcomed in with open arms." Or at least, she wasn't being welcomed with fireballs to the chest. That was a start, right?

 Ella smiled slightly. "I guess so Henry. It looks like Lucy and Ana are having a good time at least. Come on. Let's go say hi to your parents."

 "So Drizella is…" Regina said carefully, looking over as the younger woman helped Snow and Belle with the table.

 "She's recovering," Ella said with a small nod. "She's living with us now. She and Ana both. Since their mother isn't around anymore she's gotten a lot better. Trying to repent for what she did. She even got back a lot of Tiana's things that were sold when her kingdom was in trouble."

 Emma looked a little suspicious. "How exactly did she get that stuff back?"

 "We didn't say it was a perfect start. She is trying but sometimes… she slips," Ella said. "I'm sure you understand how it is, Regina."

 Regina inhaled sharply at being called out and nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose so. Henry, you're sure about this?"

 Henry took in his three parents. All people who had been hurt or consumed by the darkness at one point in time. He understood that they were a bit nervous about Drizella, after all, Drizella had hurt him, their son, had tried to curse him, but even so…

 "Mom, where would you be right now if Grandma, Grandpa and Ma hadn't given you a chance after your curse?"

 Regina clamped her mouth shut at that, and before any of them knew it, Hook and Alice had arrived, and it was time to open gifts.

 "Hey bud," his dad said with a smile as he pulled out a small gift bag. "We have something to give you and Ella."

 "We?" Henry asked as the kids engaged in a wrapping paper ball fight.

 Neal gestured vaguely to the other adults in the room, who were giving each other sneaky glances. "All of us here. Well, minus Hook, but he was in the Enchanted Forest so."

 "O-kay…" Henry said, carefully removing the tissue paper and staring at what was at the bottom of the bag.

 "Are these – "

 "Magic beans. Anton finally got his garden working properly again, so now it won't take blood magic to get to you," Emma said with a smile. "And we can see you more often. And you can come visit us too!"

 "Maybe you guys can extend your Storybrooke vacation a little longer?" Grandpa Charming suggested with a warm smile.

 Henry looked at Ella, who was looking at his parents with wide eyes. "This… these are incredible! Thank you so much!" she said with a smile. "I can't believe we have the chance to see you more often! Now Lucy and I will be able to learn what this world is like."

 "So I can learn how to play the video games Leo and Gideon showed me?" Lucy asked with a wide smile, clutching a wad of wrapping paper in her hands.

 "And make friends here, yeah kid," Emma said with a wide smile. "Maybe show Aunt Tiana and Uncle Naveen around?"

 Henry grinned and draped an arm around Ella as the chatter continued.

 "Henry?" Ella said, resting her head against his shoulder. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you, and since we're all here with your family, now might be the best time."

 "Oh? What is it? Hey – everyone? Ella has something to tell us."

 The noise died as all eyes turned to Ella, who smiled shyly.

 "I'm pregnant."

 As if a switch had been flipped, the noise erupted once again, joy filling the air and Henry pulled Ella in for a kiss. "I love you."

 And as the snow fell gently outside the farmhouse and the fire crackled, filling the room with warmth as Rumplestiltskin filled champagne glasses for the adults that could drink, and sparkling grape juice for anyone that couldn't.

 "I would like to propose a toast to our family. May we be ever closer now than we were before, and may our new year be bright. Merry Christmas everyone."

 Henry raised his glass and took a drink, smiling as he looked around the room. It was nice to be back in Storybrooke.

 It was nice to be home.

[monster-mum]

It’s okay to not be okay

This week I have had a few conversations with some of my Mummy friends, we touched upon many different subjects but there was one common theme: is it okay, to not be okay? A friend of mine is a yoga teacher and is also an amazing Mummy to two gorgeous, spirited children. About a week ago she wrote an inspirational post about how it is okay to not be okay and how we need to check in with ourselves once in a while. You may think this isn’t that important, but man is it, and not just for those of us that are parents. I have friends that don’t have children and they too could benefit from just taking time to check in and say “hey, am I okay?” As mental health issues are ever increasing, not just among adults but also in children and teenagers, one thing that’s for sure is that we have become a society of people who need to take time for ourselves, to know that it is most definitely okay to be a little selfish from time to time and do something for ourselves. It is good for the soul. Life is more than work, it is more than being Mummy and Daddy, it is more than stress and worry.

 There have been many times when I have been overwhelmed with the monsters and felt like my brain was going to explode, and not because someone was trying to hone their mind powers. Children are wonderful, brilliant people but sometimes they are just a-holes. Yep I said it, it’s out there. I adore my three monsters and think the absolute world of them but they do not go out of their way to make life easy at times. BM (Before Monsters) I was one of those women who judged other women who were stay-at-home Mums. I wondered what the hell they got up to all day; lunching with other Mums, going to the spa, more lunches, letting their kids scream in restaurants and supermarkets for fun and maybe a quick stop at a park where they’d just sit down on a bench while their child ran riot. I can remember one time I was in Asda and there was this Mum screaming at her kids pleading with them to behave. I remember swearing to myself I would never be like that woman. Since becoming a Mum, I have realised that I was a pretentious arse when I was younger and that supermarkets are a major trigger for bad behaviour in many kids. I have screamed, shouted, pleaded, begged, threatened and bargained with my monsters in supermarkets, the cinema, restaurants, anywhere and everywhere, for their compliance and good behaviour. It is a guessing game with children and they love to move the goalposts so the answer is never the same as the time before.

 Years ago, Chris and I read a blog written by a man who described the difference in his day at work to what his wife’s day was like at home with their little ones. It was very funny and had us cracking up in places. One of the things he spoke about was when heading home always assume that ‘orc war’ is occurring right behind your front door and your partner needs you home right away. Since we read his blog we have used this Lord of the Rings battle reference as our emergency code. If one of us messages ‘orc war’, the other knows they need to get their butt home asap! There have only been about four or five occasions where the red button was pushed, but it is effective.

 Taking time for yourself isn’t always straightforward when there are kids running riot in your home and I totally get that. You can set everything up and get your timings perfect and it can all still go wrong.

 Set scene:  I have had a stressful day with my little monsters. Chris has run me a bath, we have put the biggens to bed and our tiniest monster is fed and settled. As soon as my bum makes contact with the bottom of the bath I hear a floorboard creek. I close my eyes and use one of my favourite parenting techniques entitled ‘If I can’t hear it I don’t have to deal with it.’ This gets used more times than I should probably admit too, especially when there is a whole load of banging and screaming involved.

 The door creeks open and a head pops round, I continue pretending I don’t notice, hoping he’ll see I am trying to relax and head to bed.

 Steven: “Mummy.”

 UrrghhhAHHHHHH!

 Me: “Yes Steven.”

 Steven: “I need to go to the toilet.”

 Oh, okay wee man, I’ll just hop out of the bath and stand dripping and cold in the hallway just to save you the massive hassle of using another of our THREE TOILETS!!

 Right calm it down Nicola, maybe he’s not noticed you are in the bath.

 Me: Giving him the benefit of the doubt “I’m in the bath Steven.”

 Steven: Looks at me as though I am a complete moron for stating something so blindingly obvious “Yeh, I know but I need the toilet.”

 Just wanting him to go to bed as soon as possible I say “fine. Hurry up.”

 He walks over to the toilet.

 Steven: “Don’t look!”

 What is it with kids thinking us parents want nothing more than to watch them go to the toilet.

 Me: I close my eyes, “hurry up!”

 As soon as he’s finished he turns to leave and then realises that I am trapped in the bath and can’t escape so right now is obviously a great time for a heart to heart.

 Steven: “Mummy, there’s something that’s bothering me and I really need to talk to you about it.”

 I think I’ve told you about Steven’s brilliant ability to trap you in a conversation. You think you’re in control and before you know it it’s been three days and forty-seven minutes and you’re still talking about that one-time Steven put his shoes on the wrong feet. He worked out a long time ago that phrasing certain things in a certain way results in a delay in doing whatever it is he doesn’t want to do.

 Me: “What is it Steven?”

 Steven: “Well, Daddy threw out all of the boxes that I was planning to build with and now I have none.”

 What I should probably explain here is that Steven likes to hoard cardboard boxes, plastic bottles and whatever else he feels would be of great use in building a machine of his own design. It is something we try to nurture, well, to a certain degree. There have been times we have gone into his room and it resembles a dump site. He also likes to pick random stuff up when we’re out, his favourite are bottle lids, you know the ones you get on bottles of ale. One time when I picked him up from school his teacher called me into the classroom (just a heads up, if you get called in by a teacher it is very unlikely to be a conversation about what a brilliant angel your child is.) His teacher opens her hand and shows me a load of bottle lids with various alcoholic logos printed along the tops. She looked at me and said “Steven brought these in. I thought you’d like to know.” I’m stood there looking at her looking at me thinking to myself that this woman thinks I’m an alcoholic or something. I rarely have a drink and even when I do it’s one and it lasts me forever. I had to let this woman know that I wasn’t an alcoholic so I say “I don’t have a drink problem. I rarely have a drink.” She glances at the bottle lids again, looks slightly awkward, smiles and says “Oh, okay. That’s good.” I glare at Steven. Great! As if things weren’t hectic enough I now have to convince everyone that I am not a raging alcoholic! Thanks son.

 Anyway, Steven is a hoarder.

 I am desperate for my relaxation time to begin so I say…

 Me: “Steven, this really sounds like something you need to talk to Daddy about.” Ha! Take that Chris!

 Before Steven can think of anything else to say I quickly tell him to go to bed. He says goodnight and heads to his room.

 Yes! Well done Nicola! You are acing this parenting malarkey! I take a deep breath and sink back down into my bath when the door creeks open again and a tiny, blonde, curly headed monster peeks around the opening with a cheeky smirk on her face.

 UrrghhhAHHHHHH!

 I can hear the sound of Chris playing his PS4 game downstairs and sounding like he’s having a pretty nice relaxing time. Cursing my inability to set his hair on fire with my mind I say…

 Me: “Yes Lyla Rose?”

 Lyla: Takes this as an invitation to come fully into the bathroom. “Muuuummy, I need a toilet.”

 OF COURSE YOU BLOODY DO!

 Me: Wishing that I had locked the door I say “Go on then Lyla.”

 Lyla: “Don’t look at me!”

 Seriously child! I don’t want to watch anyone, literally anyone, go to the toilet, especially when I am in the bath. I glare at her and she smiles, I close my eyes.

 Lyla: “Mummy are you asleep?”

 Me: “No Lyla.”

 Lyla: “Why are your eyes closed?”

 Me: What! Pick your battles Nicola, pick your battles. “I am trying to relax. Hurry up.”

 Lyla: “Okay Mummy.”

 She finishes her business, flushes and washes her hands more intricately than she ever has and just as she is about to leave…

 Lyla: “Mummy, I’m sad.”

 Oh for the love of God.

 Me: “Why are you sad Lyla?”

 Lyla: smiling “A cos when I was a baby my Mummy and Daddy didn’t want me and I was kidnapped.”

 Me: “Lyla, me and Daddy are your real Mummy and Daddy. You don’t need to be sad.”

 Lyla: smiles “Okay Mummy. I love you.”

 Me: “I love you too. Now, off to bed.”

 She runs off to her room. Finally, some me time. I pick up my book and relax into my bath with a big sigh then…

 Lachlan: “Waaaaaaaaaaaa! Oooooooowaaaaaaaahhh!”

 Chris: “Nic, Lachlan is awake, I think he’s ready for a feed.”

 I close my eyes, take a deep breath, pinch my nose and dunk myself under the water and try to imagine I am swimming in a clear blue sea by a white sandy beach in the Caribbean.  

[swanqueeneverafter]

19. The Crocodile, Pt.2

Storybrooke. Present day. Blanchard Loft. (David Nolan is talking with Mr. Gold.) Mr. Gold: “May I have a word, (Looks down at the badge on David’s belt:) Sheriff?” David: “Uh, acting sheriff. And I'm already late on another busy day, cleaning up the mess you made.” Mr. Gold: “My apologies. That was a moment of poor judgment on my part. And it's not lost on me that I'm now here to ask for your help.” David: “Well, then it shouldn't be lost on you when I say no.” Mr. Gold: “Hear me out first. I'm here to report a missing person. (David sighs:) She left my home early this morning. Her name is Belle.” David: “Back in our land, you mentioned you loved someone once. Is-” Mr. Gold: “Yes.” David: “You also said she died.” Mr. Gold: “I thought she had.” David: “How can you be sure she's gone missing and not run away?” Mr. Gold: “I can't. Look, the townsfolk are less than sympathetic to my plight, but you- you're in the rather unique position to understand exactly what I'm going through. (Points to a picture of Emma and Mary Margaret:) Will you help me?”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Killian Jones comes back to the alleyway, prepared to fight Rumplestiltskin. He spots the imp sitting on top of an arch.) Rumplestiltskin: (He drops a sword in front of Killian:) “Pick it up, dearie, and let's begin.” Killian Jones: “There's no need.” (He reaches for his own sword, but Rumplestiltskin takes it from him using magic.) Rumplestiltskin: “Sorry, but killing a man with his own sword was just too delicious to pass up. Hmm? (The two begin to duel:) Ships that pass in the night. Well, at least one ship.” (Rumplestiltskin flings Killian into a pile of barrels. He gets up and continues to fight. Rumplestiltskin disarms him, and steps on his sword before he can pick it up. He puts the tip of his sword and Killian's throat.) Killian Jones: “Go on. I'm ready for the sword.” Rumplestiltskin: “No. Do you know what it's like to have your wife stolen from you? To feel powerless to stop it? It feels like having your heart ripped from your chest. Actually, let me show you.” (He sticks his hand into Killian's chest.) Milah: “Stop!” Rumplestiltskin: (Looks over in the direction of the voice:) “Milah.” Storybrooke. Present day. (Smee brings Belle into her father's shop.) Belle: “Who are you? What- what do you want from me?” Smee: “I'm just a man who procures hard to find objects. In this case, the object was you.” Belle: “So then who- who put you up to this?” Moe: (He steps into the room:) “Belle? Oh. Oh, how I've missed you, Belle.” Belle: (Crying, muffled voice:) “Father?” (They embrace.) Moe: “I'm so sorry this is how we had to be reunited. Please understand. I had no choice.” Belle: “But to kidnap me?” Moe: “After the curse broke, I searched all over for you and discovered The Dark One still had you captive.” Belle: “He wasn't holding me captive. I chose to be with him.” Moe: “Are you saying you fell in love with him?” Belle: (Nods:) “But I fear it may be over now.” Moe: “It must be. Promise me you no longer love him, that you will never see him again.” Belle: “I'm not- I'm not a child.” Moe: “You don't understand what that man will do to you, what he's already done.” Belle: “No, you don't understand. It's my life.” Moe: “Then I don't have a choice. I'm sorry. (To Smee:) Do it.” Belle: (Smee grabs her and drags her away:) “What? Father? Father, what- what are you doing? Stop!” Moe: “Goodbye, Belle. I love you.” Belle: “Father!”

The Enchanted Forest. Present. (Emma, Mary Margaret, Aurora, and Mulan discuss the newly-found Captain Hook.) Emma: “You’ve seen him before?” Mulan: “Yes, I've seen him around. He's a blacksmith. Came to our camp a couple of months ago. Said he lost his hand in an ogre attack.” Emma: “Why would Cora leave a survivor? It's messy, it doesn't make sense.” Mulan: “You think he's lying?” Emma: “I think Cora’s tricked us before. I don't want that to happen again. (To Captain Hook:) Here you go.” Captain Hook: “I can't thank you enough for your kindness. Fortune it seems has seen fit to show me favor.” Emma: “An island full of corpses... you're the only one to escape. How exactly did that happen?” Captain Hook: “She attacked at night... slaughtered everyone in one fell swoop. When she started ripping out peoples' hearts, I hid under the bodies of those who had already been killed. Pretended to be dead myself. Mercifully the ruse worked.” Emma: “So much for fortune favoring the brave.” Captain Hook: “It was all I could do to survive.” Emma: “I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I am pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me.” Captain Hook: “I am telling you the truth.” Mulan: “We should leave here, in case Cora decides to come back.” Mary Margaret: “We should start searching for a new portal back to Storybrooke. I only got about five minutes with my husband, not to mention my grandson.” Captain Hook: “You have a grandson?” Mary Margaret: “Long story.” Captain Hook: “Well, I know this land well, I can guide you...” Emma: (Draws a knife and holds it over Captain Hook's throat:) “You're not gonna guide us anywhere until you tell us who you really are.”

Storybrooke. 1983. Mayor's House, Regina's bedroom. (Regina awakens for the first time in Storybrooke. She looks out of the window, sees the town of Storybrooke and realizes that the Dark curse has worked.) Regina: “I did it. I won.” (She walks to her closet and chooses her clothes for the day.) Cut To: Storybrooke, Main Street. (Regina is walking down the street and sees Marco struggling to repair a sign.) Marco: “That should hold you.” (She passes Granny’s Diner to witness Ruby & Granny arguing.) Ruby: “I cannot believe you put me on the early shift.” Granny: “Not my fault you stayed out all night. When I put over easy on the menu, I was talking about the eggs!” Archie: (Walking by:) “Morning, Madam Mayor.” Regina: “Good morning, Crick—Dr. Hopper.” Archie: “Beautiful day, isn't it?” Regina: “Yes. Yes, it is.” Cut To: Storybrooke Elementary School. (Mary Margaret, holding a bird in her hand, is teaching.) Mary Margaret: “As we build our birdhouses, remember: what you're making is a home. Not a cage. A bird is free, and will do what it will. This is for them, not us. They're loyal creatures. (Releases the bird out the window; it flies up to a birdhouse:) If you love them and they love you, they will always find you. (Bell rings; class rises:) We'll pick this up after recess. No running! (Regina enters the room:) Miss Mills, what are you doing here?” Regina: “Refresh my memory. How long have you been a teacher here?” Mary Margaret: “Um I -- I'm not sure. As long as I can remember.” Regina: “Come with me.”

Storybrooke. Past. Storybrooke General Hospital. (Mary Margaret and Regina are in front of John Doe's room.) Mary Margaret: “Why are we in the hospital?” Regina: “Tell me. Do you know this man?” Mary Margaret: “No. Why? Who is he?” Regina: “He's a John Doe, coma patient. No one's claimed him.” Mary Margaret: “Maybe someday he'll wake up. Maybe someone who loves him will find him.” Regina: “That would be nice for him. But I wouldn't count on it.” Storybrooke. Present. Dr. Hopper's Office. Dr. Hopper: "And the day would just repeat itself over and over?" Regina: (Nods:) "With a few differences here and there. Don't you remember?" Dr. Hopper: (Shakes his head:) "I mean, it was all pretty hazy-" (The door opens. Mr. Gold rushes in.) Dr. Hopper: “Mr. Gold, this is highly inappropriate.” Mr. Gold: “Quiet, you. (To Regina:) Where is she?” Regina: “Excuse me?” Mr. Gold: “You took her from me before, where is she?” Regina: “Why don't you check the ‘Missing’ board like everyone else?” Mr. Gold: “She’s not missing, she’s been taken.” Regina: “Well, then I'm sorry for your loss. (Looking to Archie:) But I’ve been here all morning.” Mr. Gold: “A likely story.” Dr. Hopper: “Mr. Gold, I have to insist. Please. Go.” (Mr. Gold leaves. Dr. Hopper closes the door.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. In the alleyway. (Rumplestiltskin still has his hand in Killian's chest. He pulls it out.) Rumplestiltskin: “Milah. How?” Killian Jones: “Milah, you have to run.” Milah: “No. I'm not leaving without you.” Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, how sweet. It appears there's more to this tale than I know. Tell it to me, Milah.” Milah: “Please don't hurt him. I can explain.” Rumplestiltskin: “Tick-tock, dearie. Tick-tock.” Milah: “That first night, when Killian and his crew came into the tavern, he told stories about the places he'd been, and I fell in love with him. (Rumplestiltskin sticks his sword into Killian's side:) I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I'm sorry.” Rumplestiltskin: “And so here we are. You've come to save the life of your true love, the pirate. I didn't realize the power of true love before. It is impressive. I'd hate to break it up. Actually, no. I'd love to.” (He continues to stick his sword in to Killian's side.) Milah: “Wait. I have something you want.” Rumplestiltskin: “Well, I find that very difficult to believe. (He pulls his sword out of Killian's side and Milah shows him the trader's red hat:) Where did you get that?” Milah: “You know who I took it from. I may not know what The Dark One wants with a magic bean, but I have it.” Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, I feel a proposal coming on.” Milah: “The magic bean in exchange for our lives. Deal?” Rumplestiltskin: (Moves closer to her:) “I wanna see it first.”

[ofdragon0wls]

A Monsters Happy ending

// All credit to the writer I paid for this , they are on twitter if you’re interested in the writer , I paid them 50 for a Mr Gold asexual fic in which he leaves Belle and starts fresh in Gotham city . If you are interested in making money ? I want more , asexual Gold fics , I’ll pay for all of them //

A Monster’s Happy Ending

And then, suddenly, it was all over. The Final Battle. Centuries of meddling and machinations spanning countless worlds and times. In the blink of an eye, it was done, and Mr. Gold wondered why he wasn’t relieved in the slightest. All around him, people were hugging and kissing. Families were reunited. Good had won, and for once there was no new danger looming in the horizon. They could finally have their happy endings. So why did it feel like his whole world was falling apart? Unable to tolerate being surrounded by their revelry any longer, he retreated to his pawnshop, where it was safe. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Belle’s concerned frown. – Once the door to the shop slammed shut, Gold let out a sigh of relief. Right now, he needed to be alone with his thoughts. He picked up a broom from behind the counter and began sweeping up the broken glass that littered his shop’s floor. The battle had not been kind to most of the buildings on Main Street. He supposed he could just magic everything back into pristine condition, but he found the rhythmic motions of the broom soothed his troubled mind a bit. Sometimes, the old-fashioned way was better. “Rumple?” He winced. Of course Belle had followed him. His lips thinned, and he tried to ignore her. “What’s wrong?” His sweeping was erratic now, the movements jerky. “I don’t know,” Gold answered truthfully. Because he didn’t know, really. He should be happy, but he just wasn’t. Instead, he felt something an awful lot like dread. He had spent centuries wheeling and dealing, setting up the pieces and making his plays; now the game was over, and he was at a loss of what to do. Belle placed a small hand on his arm, interrupting his repetitive movement of the broom. He tensed. “It’s over, you can relax. The book is completed!” She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “This means we can have our happy ending now!” “That’s just it!” Gold exploded, snarling. He pushed the broom away violently, and it fell against a display case with a sharp crack. “Is this it? Is this my happy ending?!” He whirled on her, gripping her shoulders tightly as he roared. “The Charmings on their little farm! Miss Swan and the pirate riding off into the sunset in that yellow monstrosity of a car! Is that what a happy ending is? Is that what you want from me?!” Belle wrenched herself away from him, her eyes narrowed in confusion at his sudden outburst. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” She screamed back at him, “A family?!” The genuine hurt and fear in her expression took the wind of out his sails. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand since he had never told her the truth to begin with. “I thought it was, sweetheart,” Gold said softly, his shoulders sagging. Belle took a small step toward him, a little more confident now that he wasn’t shouting at her. “Tell me, Rumple. Help me understand.” Belle took one of his hands into hers and held it tightly. Her sympathetic gaze shone brightly with love and eagerness. “I’m afraid,” Gold admitted, both to Belle and to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “After Bae-” He choked up. The death of his first son still weighed heavily on his soul. “After I lost Bae,” he pressed on, “I thought maybe if I…if I put all the right pieces back together, I would feel whole again.” A wife. A son. He had those things now, but it felt hollow. “But I can’t do this!” He blurted out, his free hand motioning helplessly between them. “I just want you to be happy, Rumple.” Belle spoke slowly as she caressed the side of his face, her touch loving and tender. He resisted the urge to flinch away, and her hand dropped back down to her side. “I love you, and I want you to be happy,” She repeated, “And if that happiness is with someone else then that’s okay too.” Gold groaned, exasperated. She was completely misunderstanding him! “That’s not it at all, Belle. I care about you a lot. More than anyone.” He squeezed her hand to emphasize the point. “I love you and Gideon, but I can’t do this.” His other hand gestured between them again, trying to articulate what he couldn’t quite put into words. “I’m not sure I ever could, actually. Milah and I, it was an arranged marriage. She never loved me.” “Then with us…” He hesitated, unsure how to continue. “I tried to make our relationship work because I knew that’s what you wanted, but I kept messing everything up because I simply don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t understand how to, or even why I should want to in the first place!” Gold’s voice grew louder as he finally voiced centuries of repressed confusion and frustration. “It was easy to forget and just go through the motions when there was some new problem to deal with every week, but I can’t do this…white picket-fence life.” Gold smiled sadly, “That’s not my happy ending.” “So you want adventure?” Belle returned his sad smile with one of her own, recalling a time in the Dark Castle when the tables were turned and she was the one wistfully dreaming of not being tied down. “I have to leave. I don’t belong here.” He looked out at the small, sleepy town in Maine that had effectively been their jail for several decades. “Where will you go?” He already had a place picked out. He had expanded his real estate acquisitions out of Storybrooke a long time ago. At the time, he rationalized that it was to help Belle’s dream of traveling the world, but, deep down inside, he wondered if he always knew this day might come. Sooner or later, he would run. He was still a coward, after all. At least in all his efforts though, he had found the perfect city. A dark place full of dark magic. Dark things. Like him. “It’s probably better if you don’t know,” Gold sighed. If Belle knew, she wouldn’t be able to resist looking for him. The time would come when she would toss all caution to the wind and venture into a den of monsters while completely defenseless just to check up on him over a cup of tea. It meant he was hiding things from her again though, and he turned away, his eyes downcast as he braced himself against the anger and bitterness that was sure to come. He couldn’t handle seeing her disappointment in him written all over her face again. Why did he always have to make her so sad? “Okay.” Instantly, his head snapped back, and he blinked at her. Belle looked like she wanted to laugh at his confusion, but it came off more tired amusement than mirth. “What? That’s it? You’re…okay with this?” She gave him a reassuring smile. “If you ever need anything, you know we will always be here for you.” Right. She had Gideon now, and Gideon had his mother. For the first time, Gold was somewhat thankful his own deranged mother had kidnapped his child and then returned him as an adult instead of an infant. This way, they could take care of each other. The burden on his shoulders lifted a bit. That slight relief gave him the strength to go through with what came next. Gold reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out his dagger. His heart beat in double-time as he was reminded of a similar scene from oh so long ago. Him, tenderly caressing the blade. Her with nervous trepidation. The dagger. The pawnshop. “Once upon a time, in this very spot, I made you a false promise with a false dagger, but this time-” Gold hesitated for a second before tentatively offering it to Belle. “This time,” he continued, “I want to make a real one. I will come if you call for me. I will always protect you and our son, Belle, no matter what.” Somehow, when Belle gingerly took the dagger from his hands, Gold wasn’t afraid. He didn’t feel the tell-tale anxiety and panic prickling over his skin as if the blade was a guillotine looming over his neck. He felt…satisfied. It actually made him want to preen a little, that he had devised a way that he could still watch over Belle and Gideon without having to be weighed down with false pretenses. And this time, she didn’t object. A little older and a little wiser, Belle understood the gravity of this gesture. She smiled at his faith in her, and it was the first true smile he had seen from her in a long, long time. “I’ll keep it safe,” she promised. “Thank you.” She sniffled at the realization that this was goodbye, and he could see the tears threatening to spill over in her watery smile. “Please, please take care of yourself. I’ll…I’ll miss you so much, Rumple!” With that, Belle launched herself into him, her arms wrapping around and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. “I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” He did too. – Gold shut the door of his Cadillac with a heavy thud. This was it, he thought. This was really happening. He adjusted the rearview mirror, and his breath hitched at the scene reflected back at him. Belle and Gideon were standing side-by-side under the newly minted ‘Gold & Son’ shop sign. She kept his name still; he found he didn’t mind. For a moment, he wavered. Maybe they could make it work. Maybe he could try to be “normal”. Maybe if he just pretended long enough, he would start to believe it too. The coward in him reared its ugly head and screamed that he was making a mistake. Do the brave thing, and bravery would follow. Now, wasn’t that ironic? Gold wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity. Belle’s own words would be the ones that gave him the strength to drive away from her, but he knew that in the end he could never be what she wanted, what she needed, what she deserved. This really was for the best. – Mr. Gold’s new pawnshop was nearly a carbon copy of his old one. Rare artifacts, strange oddities, and cases upon cases of jewelry and trinkets. He surveyed his little kingdom of things and let a satisfied smile cross his face. The cunning shopkeeper was at the forefront of his domain once again. The bell above the shop’s door jingled, a familiar sound in the unfamiliar city. It was followed by the rhythmic tapping of a cane, and that was familiar too. Though it was a bit odd, Mr. Gold mused, to hear that sound coming from someone else for once. He looked up from the counter, shutting the portfolio of paperwork he had been working on earlier. The man before Gold was sharply dressed in a tuxedo, and his outfit was further exaggerated by the inclusion of a top hat and a monocle nestled in the crook of his beak-like nose. He leaned heavily on his umbrella (oh, not a cane, then) as he fixed his steely gaze upon the shop owner. It was a menacing pose, designed to intimidate. Gold would know. He used it often back in his Storybrooke days. “Welcome to Gotham City, Mr. Gold. Odd as it may seem, I believe you and I have something in common.” Gold smirked. Now, he was home. “Let’s make a deal then, dearie.”

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