#once again lucas strikes the right tone

[rose-of-red-lake]

I found a Filoni/Lucas interaction over the creation of Ahsoka, and I'm chortling.

Basically Filoni wanted Ahsoka to be a serious commentary on war and child soldiers and her lack of preparation because she's not trained for it

But then George basically told him:

So, in other words: She's got this, and lighten the fuck up :D

[nihoneshi]

It was perhaps one of those days, where Halvor had slept in several days, finally letting his body recharge, and telling by the new bandages upon his arms and his stomach, it's obvious that someone was in his home at one point to change out the bandages while they were asleep at that time. Taking a moment to stretch out in bed, before yawning and trying to stand up, failing back down into his bed, obviously still stiff from being asleep for that long, Halvor takes a few moments to stretch while sitting up at the foot of his bed.

Staring at the Window, and then at the clock in the corner of the room... It was evening, and then he looked around, on just how potentially long he had slept, it was long enough for his bandages to be changed, so when the dragon can finally stand, Halvor takes time to head into the living room, to find a nice steaming cup of tea on the coffee-table, which meant Lucas was here very recently.

Halvor's glad the other had the strength and mental fortitude to continue helping him through this, Halvor grabs the cup of tea with his stronger hand, given how his left wrist is bandaged and currently weak, he uses his right hand to hold it, taking a deep sigh as he took a sip, figuring out the notes of peach and hibiscus. Lucas always had him figured out with how he liked tea more than coffee on nearly any occasion.

He'll enjoy it.. Outside perhaps? Halvor exits his home for the first time in weeks, and while he doesn't exactly leave his walkway or go out further, he sits on the bench by his flowerbed.. the azalea's among other flowers that others had gifted him were growing in beautifully, and it looks like Lucas was also taking care of them...bless him for that.

[ I need.. to take a photo of these in the light of the sunset.. it's intriguing how the warm palette compliments the azalea... ]

But without a camera, Halvor would have to wait, and with winter on the horizon, it also meant the time for pink-yellow hued sunrises and cooler hued sunsets...

Maybe that's another reason to strive for life---to see the beautiful nature of sunrises and sunsets as the seasons pass. He'll have to move some of the summer flowers into his home as winter gets closer, it's one of the only things keeping him occupied, that, and.. through his sips of tea, the dragon stares up at the sunset, clearing his throat until the tea is able to cut through the crap in his throat.

Setting down the empty cup, Halvor takes a deep breath in order to steel his resolve... he'll try it again.

[ Lonely energy, strike a beat in my heart and make it fly --- Please make both sadness and excitement perfectly beautiful An addictiveness involving love ; Don't lose sight... ] Vocalizing gently, a quiet toned voice strained with emotions that he didn't think he was capable of feeling at that very moment, the dragon nearly spaces out as he stares out into the vast warm skyline, his heart audible, fluttering as he realizes that he was once more alone, singing and thinking to himself yet again. Halvor sighs, taking in the sunset and heading back inside with his empty cup, closing the door behind him...

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

With Dustin in the lead, we found ourselves stopped atop a hill, at what I assume is a scrapyard. Old vehicles like abandoned cars and buses scattered around the area.

Dustin came to a stop and looked around.

"Oh, no." He muttered.

"'Oh, no'? What's, 'Oh, no'?" Lucas asked in a panicked tone.

Dustin turned around to look at us.

"We're headed back home."

"What?" Even Mike seemed to be frustrated.

"Dustin, are you sure?" I ask, irritation and exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun, right there." He pointed past us in the direction of the sky. "We looped right back around."

I sighed, shifting on my feet as I run a hand down my face.

"And you're just realizing this now?" Lucas snapped.

"Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

"What do yours say?"

We all checked our compasses, mine was wobbly but nevertheless, pointing North.

Lucas, Mike and I all spoke at once.

"North."

We all sighed, and Dustin began slowly pacing, looking off into the distance deep in thought.

"Makes no damn sense."

"Maybe the gate moved," Mike offered.

"No, I don't think it's the gate." Dustin began looking all around us. "I think it's something else screwing with the compasses."

"Maybe it's something here?"

As Mike spoke, I didn't fail to notice the look that crossed Lucas's face as he slowly turned to face El.

"No, it has to be like a super magnet." Dustin replied.

Lucas rose his hand and began pointing at El accusingly. "It's not a magnet. She's been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

El stood rooted in place, a look of guilt and fear in her eyes.

"Why would she do that?" Mike snapped.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, it was the only logical explanation we had. It could be all too easy for her to screw with our compasses after what she showed herself capable of.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the conclusions my brain wanted to jump to.

"Lucas, come on. Think about what you're saying. Why would-" I rested a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder to try and calm him down, only for him to rip his arm from my touch.

"Enough, Y/n! I'm so sick of you defending her! You of all people should be more worried for Will."

"I am!" I snapped, feeling the anger, fear and confusion of all I've been carrying the past few days shoot up to the surface unexpectedly.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "Just... Please. Hear her out."

Lucas never met my eye and only stomped towards the poor girl intimidatingly.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, following behind Lucas worriedly.

"You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate. You don't want us to find Will." Lucas was in her face by now, and it as if the poor girl was on the verge of tears.

Dustin and I were toe in toe with the others and I walked up to Lucas, ready in case he decided to something rash.

Mike seemed to have the same idea.

"Lucas, come on, seriously, just leave her alone!"

"Admit it." Lucas spit.

"No." El muttered.

"Admit it!" We all jumped when Lucas began screaming.

He grabbed her right arm and examined her sleeve. There was a streak of shiny dark crimson on her sleeve.

Lucas swatted away her arm in disgust and frustration at the sight.

"Fresh blood. I knew it."

Dustin and I watched speechless as the boys began fighting.

"Lucas, come on!"

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Bull! That's old blood. Right, El?"

We all whipped our heads to El, waiting for her response.

At this point, she was fighting back tears, and her breath hitched.

"Right, El?" Mike asked again, less confident.

She began sobbing as she choked out her words.

"It's... not... it's not safe."

My stomach plunged as Dustin and I shared a look of worry and shock.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

Lucas and Mike seemed to be having it out now and they wouldn't stop despite the many protests from either Dustin or I. My body seemed to have shut down, staring helplessly as my two best friends fight, at a complete loss for words from shock and knowing my words will make no difference.

"That's not true. She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will? Find Will? Where is he, then? Huh? I don't see him."

"Yeah, you know what I mean,"

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike. She could have just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens."

With every word my body was feeling more and more on edge, my anxiety set in as I felt uncomfortable in my own skin at my friend's tearing each other apart. I started shifting back and forth, my hands rubbing the back of my neck.

Either Dustin noticed this, or he was sick of the fighting as well - or both for that matter - he stomped towards the boys and intervened.

"All right, calm down!"

"No! She used us, all of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants. Food and a bed. She's like a stray dog."

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No! Screw you, Mike. You're blind... blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she's just letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Shut up!"

"For all we know, it's her fault."

"Shut up."

"We're looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

'I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that El is the monster. I don't want my best friend to be missing, I don't want my friends to fight all the time. But at the same time, I can't afford to dismiss the possibility that maybe Lucas had a point. Not about her being a monster. No, that I refuse to believe, but her having something to do with everything that's been going on.'

What came next was a blur.

Mike couldn't take it anymore and lunged at Lucas, the boys toppled to the ground and began wrestling in the dirt. Dustin, El and I screaming at the top of our lungs for them to stop.

I looked to Dustin and El and back at the fighting boys. I ran to them attempting to pry Lucas off of Mike in a panic, knowing there was a big chance I'd get hit. But I didn't care and I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"Enough! Please, stop! Just-"

I closed my eyes as I saw the blur of Lucas's hand strike me accidentally as he swung his arm back, ready to punch Mike. I felt the back of his fist collide with my nose and I fell back with a painful yelp.

I heard a shrill shriek and opened my eyes in time to see Lucas fly backward in the air about five feet and slide into an abandoned car door, lying unconscious.

I looked to Lucas in horror and ran to him, not caring about my gushing nose.

I dive in front of Lucas, trying to shake him awake.

The boys were right behind me.

"Lucas! Lucas, wake up! Lucas."

Nothing. I checked his head for injuries, my hand never leaving him as I look over my shoulder at El, horrified.

"What did you do?"

El stood rooted to the ground, sobs wracking her body as blood dripped down her nose. I could tell the guilty look in her eyes was genuine but I didn't have time to feel bad for her right now.

Lucas was my main priority. I turned my attention back to my friend.

Dustin and Mike were just as panicked as I was.

"Come on, wake up. Come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Come on, man. Lucas?" Mike muttered worriedly.

"Lucas? Lucas, come on!" I sniffled, weakly shaking him.

To my tremendous relief, Lucas slowly came to with a groan and his eyes fluttered open.

The three of us chuckled and laughed in relief. The weight in my lungs and heart were lifted at the sight

"Lucas." Mike let out in a shaky breath.

Lucas slowly sat up and blinked a few times, processing what just happened.

"Lucas, you okay?" Mike asked.

There was no response from our friend.

Dustin spoke up shakily as he held up three fingers.

"Lucas... Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up? Lucas, how many fingers?"

Mike began reaching forward towards Lucas's head, already one step ahead of me.

"Let me see your head." He offered gently, he was cut short went Lucas angrily shoved Mike's hand away.

"Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling to stand up.

"Lucas, come on, you could be hurt. Let us help." I try, my voice soft reaching for his shoulder.

He pushed my arm away in anger as he stood up, storming past me.

"I said, get off of me!" I detected a hint of fear in his voice this time and less anger, making me more sympathetic than angry at him.

Mike began to chase after him but Dustin and I seem to have the same thought as we both caught each of his arms

"Let him go."

I watched sorrowfully as my friend left without us.

"Man, let him go."

We all shared a somber silence when suddenly Mike spoke up.

"Where is El?"

I looked to where she had been standing previously only to find no one else in sight.

Mike's breathing increased and he began shouting for her.

"El! El!"

"Eleven!" Dustin had joined in.

I stood frozen, my voice failing me. I looked around me as hopelessness sunk in and solidified into guilt. The icy wind whipped my collar as the desperate voices of my friends was lost to the wind.

She was gone.

[psychdelia]

max showed up on his doorstep with blotchy red cheeks and puffy wet eyes, board discarded on his lawn as she pounded on the door with her free hand, holding a shoebox in the other.

“okay, okay!” steve called out as he rushed downstairs. “i’m coming! jeez.” he huffed as he opened the door, ready to bark out a what, shithead? because who else would show up to his place and pound on his door for a minute straight?

except his mouth snaps shut when he sees her shivering in the winter cold and cheeks still damp. it’s been about 4 months since billy died and he hadn’t seen max in this state for a couple months now. he thought things were getting better.

maybe not.

“max.” he frowned. “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked, the panic in his tone increasing with each question.

she just shoved the box into his hands, giving him a determined look. so similar to billy’s. too similar.

“i found this in his room.” he can hear the suppressed tremble in her voice as she fights the urge to cry again. “i never gave it you because i thought maybe,” she frowns, looking down. “maybe he-“ she lets out a shaky breath. “but he never came back so it’s yours now.”

then a switch is flipped and she’s suddenly glaring up at him, yet another expression too similar to billy’s.

“you can’t tell anyone.” she clenches her shaking fists. “if you tell anyone what you find in there i swear to god steve i’ll hurt you.” her upper lip is twitching into a snarl and steve is genuinely scared of this little fiery teenager.

“jesus, max,” he sighs. “first of all, you two are way too goddamn similar for not being blood related.” he ruffles her hair with a free hand. “second of all, you can’t just tell me what’s in here?”

“no.” she shakes her head as she bats his hand away. “just,” she plays with the hem of her jacket nervously. “just keep an open mind.” she frowns. “we’re not from here. things are... different back home.” her shoulders sag a little and he can tell she misses home. misses life before hawkins. “promise you won’t tell anyone?” she looks back up at him.

he frowns as he stares at the box in his hand before nodding. “promise.”

“good.” she nods. she rubs harshly at her face with her sleeve before turning away to walk to the lawn.

“you need a ride?” he calls as she grabs her board. chuckles when she rolls her eyes, tosses back an i can get myself around, steve. then a quick thanks, though. see you around. then she’s taking off.

steve practically sprints up to his room after that. sets this mystery converse box down in front of him on the bed as he sits, unsure of what to expect. maybe porn mags? weed stash? who knows.

so, naturally, he dumps it all out on the bed. stares at the pile of magazines, books, seashells, pictures, papers. the first thing he grabs are the magazines, expecting to see a half naked chick on the cover. he freezes when he finds a half naked man instead, clad in leather.

drummer. drummer. drummer. all of these are the same magazines, different issues with different men. he wonders if they’re targeted towards women, but then he’s opening them up and finding men... with other men. figures maybe hargrove had been holding onto them for someone else because there’s no way in hell these are his. no, no, no. that boy was straight as hell. loved to show off a different girl hanging off his arm every week, made shows of flirting with both girls and women.

but then he’s grabbing a polaroid dated 1983 and it’s billy with shorter hair and fuller cheeks kissing another boy with a big smile and lovesick dopey look on his face.

holy shit. this can’t be real. billy hargrove wasn’t gay. he couldn’t be. he was the womanizer, ladykiller, heartbreaker of hawkins. he loved women and they loved him 10 times more. none of this makes sense.

he grabs the journal next, the leather on the cover worn and threadbare. the first entry is dated from 1983 and the last just a couple weeks before starcourt. right before he got possessed.

steve sets the journal aside, opts to look at the other pictures and items billy had stashed away before he reads about the last three years of the guy’s life. there are a couple pictures of a blonde woman with striking resemblance to billy, the same saint christopher pendant and thick silver ring billy wore present around her neck and finger. some of them feature billy when he was a baby, toddler, kid. he finds jewelry that seems feminine, womanly. figures they must’ve been his mom’s.

there are also some california souvenirs. he finds seashells and movie, concert tickets that read “san diego” on the top. there are also some books steve remembers he was supposed to have read or heard about in school, but also some more he never heard of.

at the very bottom of the box he finds expired makeup and empty hair product. there’s black and dark blue eyeliner and mascara, baby pink lip gloss. nail polish in black, dark red and a deep purple. in some polaroids, the slight sheen of the gloss and his dark, thick lashes are barely visible, but he still catches it.

steve can’t help but chuckle when he finds some candy wrappers and leftover weed grinds at the bottom of the box alongside the butts of joints and empty cigarette packs. marlboro reds. there’s scrunchies, too. shimmery and purple, probably stolen from max.

once’s he’s finished digging through hargrove’s secret belongings, he leans back and sticks his nose in the journal. it takes him the rest of the day and all night to read it from cover to cover.

the beginning is mostly about missing his mom and hating his father, documenting his abuse. there are a few pages about his crushes and boyfriends, allowing him to figure out that the boy he was kissing in the polaroid is named santiago, but billy calls him santi. once he reaches the end of san diego and beginning of hawkins, billy’s tone and messy scrawl is full of hurt, anger, and melancholy.

and then steve’s name pops up. KING STEVE in all caps, taking up nearly half the page. there are hearts around his name, alongside a big drawing of a dick. below, billy writes about feeling like a foolish schoolboy with some stupid crush on some guy with a huge dick he saw in the showers. steve’s already blushing and it only deepens when he gets to the part about billy wanting to feel said dick in his hand, his mouth, inside of him.

he has to take a break after that. doesn’t realize things only get spicier until he gets back to reading and finds out billy’s jerked off and fingered himself open to the thought of none other than king steve. his eyes immediately flick to the half empty jar of vaseline, finger-shaped holes indenting the jelly.

he spends the rest of the night reading about billy’s remorse and guilt towards him and lucas after that night, how billy still wants to hop on his dick and kiss him stupid, his and max’s relationship and how it’s gotten better even though they still blame each other for the move.

it’s both of their faults, steve realizes. billy missed his curfew for a boy and max had no choice but to lead neil to him.

along the way to the end, a couple pictures of steve fall out of the journal. pictures that steve has no idea how billy acquired. some are from school yearbooks, others just random polaroids that might’ve been taken by tommy or carol or jonathan. when he finally reaches the end, he reads about billy’s pool job and plans fo move back to california for college as soon as he graduates.

i know it’s stupid but i’m gonna miss him. his stupid hair and big brown eyes and pretty face and pink lips. i didn’t know anything about the guy but i wish i could drag him out of this shithole and take him home with me. i still haven’t apologized to him. maybe kidnapping him and showing him the ocean would count. but i can’t fall for a straight boy, no matter how big his cock is. i don’t get to fall for someone i hurt. it’s not fair. none of this is fair.

that’s the very last entry. it’s 1am and steve is wide awake. too awake. before he thinks too hard about what he’s doing, he’s shoving everything back into the box and flooring it to robin’s house. he knocks on her window incessantly until she opens it with a glare and he’s pushing his way inside before she can greet him with a snarl.

“billy hargrove was gay and in love with me and-and and jerked off to me and,,, pretended his fingers were mine and his dad was hurting him and his mom left and he was alone, robin.” he’s rambling, eyes wide as he paces the room with the box in his hands.

“he was s-so hurt and alone and no one paid any attention and now he’s dead because of a monster in some town he got dragged to as punishment for being gay and,” his voice cracks. “he’s gone.” he whispers brokenly as he shoves the box into her hands.

robin is very confused and surprised but all she knows is that her best friend is in distress, so she sets the box down and grabs his hands.

“steve. look at me.” she only continues when he does. “sit down and talk to me. let’s go through everything together, okay? just calm down and breathe.”

by 3am robin’s looked through the box and the majority of the journal - steve dog-eared the important pages and she’s a fast reader - and she’s just as shocked as steve, apparently, if her bewildered expression and silence is anything to go by.

“robin? rob, say something.” he urges. “please. i need you to talk to me.”

“holy shit.” she finally raps. “steve, i’m gonna ask you a question and i don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

he nods.

“do you think you could’ve... reciprocated billy’s feelings?”

he opens his mouth to answer but halts, eyes wide and crazy as he stares at her.

“i-“ he gulps. “maybe?” he croaks out. “i-i think so? maybe yeah. yeah.” he nods.

“so you’re bisexual.”

and that’s throwing him on a whole other whirlwind. steve’s had too much thrown at him for the night and he doesn’t have it in him to deal with a sexuality crisis on top of everything.

but billy’s pretty. so fucking beautiful and steve can’t admit it just yet but he wishes he were still here. he wishes he could travel back in time and reach out to billy and save him from the horrors of hawkins but also kiss and fuck and love him properly but now it’s too late and steve and billy have one thing in common.

they’re both alone. lonely. so much love to give but no one to receive or give back.

“bisexual?” he chokes out.

“you like both. boys and girls. like david bowie. and david bowie’s awesome. you’re kinda awesome too, i guess. for a dingus.” she playfully punches his arm and it makes him feel better for all of 2 seconds until it’s hitting him again that the person who wanted to love him is dead. died right in front of him.

“do you have hot chocolate?” she nods. “with marshmallows?” she nods again. “can i have some?”

he feels like he’s about to faint. completely black out. wonders if he looks pale to robin. he needs something warm and comforting and hot coco will do the trick.

———————————

billy comes back in february. hopper and joyce gathered everyone up in joyce’s living room early february. sat everyone down to announce that hop had gotten... a call. a call from some doctor named owens who hop has a history with, the same doctor who helped will.

owens was nursing billy back to health in some secret lab in indianapolis, hence the funeral with no body. apparently billy was in comatose, then a medically induced coma when his brain woke up but he wasn’t strong enough to just yet. then, when he did wake up, he had to relearn how to eat, write, walk in physical therapy, alongside the heavy emotional therapy.

owens hid billy from the world until he was ready to be exposed to it again. then he called hopper one afternoon and told him to come pick the boy up.

max was angry. screamed and yelled until she was reduced to tears in joyce’s arms. the other kids were shocked and confused. didn’t know if they should be happy or scared. will and el were the only positive ones. nancy and jonathan were mostly shocked and indifferent, numb to these crazy surprises the shithole town throws at them. steve and robin just stared at each other knowingly, a million thoughts racing their minds.

a week later they were all in joyce’s living room again, nervously anticipating hopper and billy’s arrival. everyone looked up when the doorknob began to jerk and the lock turned, their eyes trained on the door as it opened to reveal hopper standing beside billy.

billy. clad in a big hoodie, gray sweats and converse. the same ones that were once in the box steve has hidden under his bed. his hair is long now, flowing freely and curling wildly at the ends, looking so soft with the lack of product. he looked tired, fading blue bags under his eyes. he hadn’t lost his tan, steve noted, and looked a little softer around the stomach and legs. for someone who went through all the shit he did, billy looked good. healthy.

max got to him the second he stepped inside, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. he immediately clung to max, holding her tight and whispering a shaky, wet hey, shitbird, only audible to her, resulting in her wet laugh. the siblings stayed like that for a few moments before pulling away to let billy see and greet everyone.

joyce had demanded they all not coddle billy because it would be suffocating and he probably couldn’t deal with that. except now she was serving and feeding him a million things, coddling him just like any other mother would. billy was hesitant and tense at first, but slowly relaxed, especially when he was given cookies.

sweet tooth, steve distantly remembered. billy has a sweet tooth, if the candy wrappers and lollipop sticks in the box were anything to go by.

everyone takes turns greeting and talking to billy. steve’s last in line to have his quick one-on-one with the guy and by the time they’re face to face, everyone’s sitting together, talking and laughing and eating.

“hey,” steve greets with a small smile. he can feel robin’s eyes on him and not-so-slyly flips her the bird, his eyes trained on billy and only billy. “it’s good to have you back.”

“you know you don’t have to say that, harrington, especially if you don’t mean it.” billy tries to joke but his eyes and smile are sad. “i only died for, like, two minutes. not a big deal.”

“shut up, man.” steve rolls his eyes and chuckles. “i do mean it.” he chews on his bottom lip nervously, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure there are no eyes on them before he looks back to billy.

then he’s reaching out and grabbing billy’s hand. running his thumbs over the scars along his palm and knuckles. he looks up to find billy confused and blushing. he smiles before pulling billy into a tight hug.

“you look good. so good.” steve whispers in his ear, getting a whiff of generic coconut shampoo. he has one arm wrapped tight around billy’s waist, holding him close with their bodies flush. he slides his free hand down and rests it on billy’s ass, barely squeezing. he chuckles when billy jumps a little.

“harrington.” billy chokes out, voice wrecked. “what’s your hand doing on my ass?” steve can feel billy’s lips moving on his neck and it makes him shudder.

“just doing what i should’ve done a while ago.” he sighs, content, just holding billy’s warm, very much alive body close to his.

“if you wanted to get in my pants, pretty boy, all you had to do was ask.” billy flirts with a smirk steve can feel on his neck. then he pauses. “you’re not fucking with me?” he asks, tone serious.

“nuh uh.” steve shakes his head. “actually, uh,” he pulls away just enough to meet billy’s eyes. “max gave me your shoebox.” he watches as billy’s eyes widen and go fiery. “hey, no, don’t get mad at her. it’s not her fault. she didn’t know you were comms back.” steve reasons. “plus, now i know big bad heartbreaker billy hargrove has a crush on little ole me.”

“who says i still do?” billy raises his eyebrows, as if his hands aren’t tightly holding onto steve’s shoulders and he’s not blushing and making heart eyes at the guy.

steve’s not too bright, but he knows when people have a crush on him. he’s always been bright in the language of love. and sex, for that matter, as billy will eventually find out when he inevitably get lovingly and romantically railed and fucked into steve’s mattress later that week.

“just have a feeling.” he shrugs, giving billy’s ass one last squeeze before he rests his hands on his hips with a grin.

[anextraordinarymuse]

Waiting for your thoughts on last night's WCTH. Still not over that opening scene.

NONNIE. THAT OPENING SCENE. 

I feel like I was blessed and assassinated all at once. Like ... *le sigh* Do I even have any thoughts after that? I’ll try to string some together. This is so long ... are they ever not at this point?

Everything about that opening scene is absolutely fantastic. Playful, silly Nathan? Please me with more of this for the rest of forever. This is what we’ve been missing this season: the fun, the levity, the cute little moments of flirting and happiness. This moment was so fun and lighthearted. It was entertaining to see Elizabeth kind of put her foot in her mouth and be awkward for once although who can blame her for telling Nathan to undress because, same, girl. We’re so used to seeing Nathan like this that it’s fun to see the tables turned for a minute. More than that, though, this moment feels like a return to the Elizabeth we’ve known for so many years. She notes that Nathan is cold and instead of ignoring it, she immediately offers relief. There’s also a naturalness to Elizabeth, and Nathan, and their interaction in this scene. Elizabeth doesn’t seem nervous about offering Nathan something hot to drink, or a pair of Jack’s gloves if she has them, or even offering to warm up his serge. She’s nervous about her little Freudian slip of telling him to take off his serge, but only after it occurs to her how it sounds because Nathan’s reaction is so taken aback. Then, when she asks Nathan about the bouquet and he tells her he forgot to give it to her - this moment is so reminiscent of a husband telling his wife he forgot to do something. Even the way Elizabeth looks at him and then chuckles when he sheepishly answers her question is so ... intimate. It’s just the cutest damn thing.

Now, I’ve seen a lot of different reactions to this scene. One that caught me off guard is that some people are upset that Elizabeth mentions Jack here. “I used to do this for Jack on chilly mornings.” People seem to be upset that Elizabeth mentions Jack in this moment, and saying that this is an indicator that Elizabeth will always equate Nathan to Jack, or that the two men occupy the same place in her mind and heart ... and I have no idea where they’re getting that. I don’t feel that way at all. I had the opposite reaction. When Elizabeth made that remark, I thought to myself: this is what she’s missing with Lucas. She never mentions Jack to Lucas, or talks about her past, or anything like that. Elizabeth is comfortable with Nathan; she’s secure in their bond and their relationship, even though both of those things have taken a hell of a beating this season. And Nathan isn’t upset by the comment at all: he looks peaceful, and touched by the thought of it. Watch the little snort/chuckle he gives as he watches her. Elizabeth is sharing something of herself in that moment. It’s not huge, it’s not a crazy admission or even an overtly emotional moment. Just something quiet and honest. Also, expecting Elizabeth to just never mention Jack again is neither realistic or healthy. 

Her mention of Jack doesn’t disrupt the moment or their comfort/peace with another at all. You know what does? A rather subtle mention of Lucas. When Nathan says “I guess she thought that you were the next to be married” there’s a hidden gravity to it because Nathan is making a veiled reference to her relationship with Lucas. At this point, Elizabeth and Lucas have been courting for a few months, so if Florence thinks that Elizabeth is the next one to get married the natural assumption is that things with Elizabeth and Lucas are further along than we (or Nathan) think they are. It's this reference to the (uncertain) future that breaks the moment, not Elizabeth's mention of Jack.

Everything in this scene comes naturally to Elizabeth. She's acting by instinct. The way she helps Nathan into his serge isn't remotely forced, and neither is the way she runs her hands over his back to smooth it down, or grabs his lapels and begins to help him put the serge back on. This is part of what makes this moment feel so intimate: this is a glimpse into the future. It feels like we're looking in on a moment between a wife helping her husband prepare for his day. You know what else I found striking about this moment though? Elizabeth and Lucas have been dating all season, yet Elizabeth isn't comfortable with and doesn't really allow/invite much physical contact. We have repeatedly been shown that she struggles with that. Lucas wants to touch her; he wants her to be comfortable touching him. But that never happens. The few times Elizabeth does allow that physical contact it feels ... maybe not forced, but deliberate. Like she's making a conscious effort to let it happen and be okay with it. It's not natural, it's not a compulsion. In fact, when it comes to Lucas Elizabeth's instinct is not to let him touch her - to withdraw. We have a great example of that in this episode, when Lucas is at the schoolhouse and goes to help her hang the banner and Elizabeth immediately withdraws from him. They hardly touch at all in that moment; Elizabeth immediately pulls away the arm of hers that is closest to him and then walks away without even so much as a brush against him as she passes.

This is the first scene that Elizabeth and Lucas share in this episode. Timeline wise, we can also reasonably assume that this moment comes not long after the moment she shares with Nathan in her house. It's an interesting juxtaposition: Elizabeth can't seem to keep herself from touching Nathan. She does it without thought or hesitation - in fact, it takes conscious thought to stop herself. But the opposite is true with Lucas: her natural inclination is to keep her distance with him, and it takes conscious thought to allow or initiate contact with him. Elizabeth's actions and instincts give her away. Her heart belongs to someone else, and she's instinctively trying to preserve the sanctity of that bond and that relationship (as in, you don't let someone else hold your hand or be in your physical space when you're in a relationship with someone else). The roles should be flipped - Elizabeth should be withdrawing from Nathan and any opportunity for closeness with him, physical or emotional, and seeking them out with Lucas - but she isn't. She says she's in a relationship with Lucas, but she behaves like she's in a relationship with Nathan. And this has been the crux of her struggle this season: this misalignment between word and deed, between heart and head. Nathan and Elizabeth haven't went on a single date this season, shared a single meal, etc. but we have undoubtedly been watching their relationship grow and progress and struggle all season.

And Lucas has finally allowed himself to acknowledge that. He goes to Elizabeth's house in the morning only to find Nathan already there (and inside the house); he goes to the schoolhouse later (and he says he decided to stop by on a whim, but we know that's not true - he stopped by because Nathan was at her house that morning) and catches Elizabeth staring at Nathan as he rides by in a moment where Nathan is oblivious to her regard. When Carson is talking to Lucas about his struggles with Faith, Lucas removes the veil he's put over his eyes. Elizabeth has never been in this with him - not really. He's in the middle of what's basically a lovers' quarrel. I think he's always known it on some level, which is why he's never accepted any of Elizabeth's invitations to enter her home. Lucas doesn't feel comfortable in such a private, intimate space because that space isn't his to occupy. When he finally breaks up with Elizabeth, he uses very deliberate wording: what he says tells both the audience and Elizabeth that Lucas understands and accepts that he's stepped into a place that he shouldn't be in. Let's break that breakup scene down:

Lucas: "Elizabeth, you've always maintained that love is worth fighting for. And that includes when it needs defending."

Emphasis is mine. Now, Lucas leads with this which sets the tone right out the gate, because we know that Lucas doesn't share Elizabeth's sentiments here. He hasn't fought for her at all this season; when Nathan confronted him and told him that he hadn't given up on Elizabeth, Lucas tells him to do whatever he wants and walks away. Lucas has been on offense all season.

Nathan, however, has been on defense. Nathan and Elizabeth actually, though they've been defending from different angles and against different things. Nathan has outright been defending himself as well as his love for and relationship with Elizabeth against everyone; but, in a more subtle way, Elizabeth has also been defending herself, and Nathan, and their relationship. We see some of this onscreen: Elizabeth declines Lucas's offer to confront Nathan about the Jack situation, rebuffs Lucas's attempts to show her physical affection, keeps her and Nathan's issues/conversations/interactions mostly private ... but this next bit of conversation makes me wonder about something else.

Lucas: "... And while I'm not resentful, from what I've seen, and from what you've told me, I believe that you and Nathan still ... Love is not just an emotion. It's also an act of will. It can't be demanded. It can't be forced. I want you to find your true love. And in order to do that, I want ... I need to set you free."

This was such a strong moment for Lucas. He is telling Elizabeth in a direct but compassionate way that he understands that she's not really in this with him - and that it's okay. He's bowing out with grace. But, this also makes me wonder how those conversations between Elizabeth and Lucas went that we didn't get to see onscreen. We know from things we've seen on screen that at least two of Elizabeth and Lucas's conversations were pushed off from the moment so that they could be discussed later. One of those conversations was about Allie after the stunt she pulled at the adoption ceremony. While it's subtle, Elizabeth does defend Allie when she's talking to Lucas by saying something about how she doesn't think that it's just a matter of explaining to Allie why Elizabeth and Nathan weren't together. How did that conversation go later? Has Elizabeth been quietly defending Nathan, and Allie, and her relationship with both in private moments with Lucas? Because it has been made clear this season that Elizabeth's relationship with Nathan, and Allie, is private and she doesn't really allow anyone else to get involved with that. Not really. Elizabeth and Nathan deal with their own relationship and issues, and they co-parent Allie and discuss her behavior and relationships, but no one else is really welcome in those conversations. We don't see Nathan even attempt to have those conversations with anyone else, and any time Lucas tries to talk about it with Elizabeth she shuts him down or deflects. And I do say that Elizabeth and Nathan are still co-parenting Allie, though we've mostly seen Nathan doing it alone this season. Still, it was no accident that when Elizabeth and Nathan were arguing at the parade she says "WE have to find a way to make things alright for her." That wasn't the royal we. Elizabeth means we as in her and Nathan.

And there's the rub, my friends. Elizabeth tells everyone that she and Nathan are not in a relationship but she never stops acting like they are. She chooses Nathan (and Allie) over and over again, without fail. Because love isn't just an emotion, it's a choice (or an act of will, as Lucas says). Elizabeth keeps choosing Nathan. Whether she means to or not, whether she's even consciously aware she is doing it, even in moments where she tries to do the opposite, the result is always the same.

And Lucas has finally accepted that. More importantly, Elizabeth has finally accepted that. She's finally made it to the place where choosing Nathan is no longer frightening. It's no coincidence that Elizabeth isn't ready to remove her wedding rings until Lucas breaks up with her - until after she's offered to give a pair of her late husband's gloves to Nathan. She is finally ready to let Jack go, and to stop hiding behind Lucas. It has been a long, rough season for those of us who have wanted Nathan and Elizabeth together, but we've made it! There is nothing in their way now; we, and they, have made it through all of the obstacles. The only thing left now is one last declaration of love: Elizabeth's.

And I just can't wait!

[lazaefair]

Has anyone done the Disney Princess AU yet

Part 1 - written by me, @poemsingreenink, and @iwritesometimes

poemsingreenink: Like, if anyone has big, soft innocent eyes it's Marwan who I swear to god looks near happy tears in most intense scenes. I at one point during Aladdin in theaters thought "You know Jafar's maybe just not had a great life. He's really having a day here." BECAUSE OF HIS BIG SOFT EYES.

lazaefair: LUCA MARINELLI HIMSELF SAID IT

sarah: HOWWWWW DID HE EVEN GET CAST AS JAFAR LIKE THOSE ARE DISNEY PRINCESS EYES

lazaefair: I...I need somone to draw Joe in a Disney Princess dress

sarah: but WHICH PRINCESS i feel like belle's off the shoulder gold ballgown has promise

lazaefair: Ariel’s pink gown would really drive the point home, though Although you’re right, Belle is a literate, dreamy brunette who loves poetry, so she’s closer as an archetype

sarah: i'll be honest: i was mostly thinking of getting his shoulders nude

lazaefair: Nicky is Ariel. Big blue eyes, otherworldly, utterly uncivilized.

sarah: YES

So imagine: Prince Yusuf, who had a giant statue of himself gifted to him on his birthday, and who hates it because his best friend (and immortal general of the army) Andromache is NEVER GOING TO LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

Also imagine: feral merman siren Nicolò who bites off fishheads and communicates through weird clicking noises, when he’s not singing men to their deaths. He’s not one of those useless pretty koi mermaids, no. He’s a motherfucking creature of the deep. Lamp eyes that are used to distract fish prey. Claws and pale fins and an intense stare and fangs.

Now imagine: Prince Yusuf going overboard in the storm that hits his royal yacht. Struggling, swept away, half-drowned and losing hope fast when an unearthly song fills the air, low and sweet and compelling. He’s swimming towards the singing before he realizes it, delirious, until something closes around his ankle and drags him under. The thing under the water kills him quickly.

And then kills him again, when it doesn’t take. After the third killing, Nicolò’s on his way to being well and truly mystified (“Okay, don't panic. They all die eventually, maybe...maybe I’ll just need to do it again?”) and gives up after the fourth and fifth killing. He drags his (attempted) prey to a little sheltered island he knows about, kills it one last time just to make sure, and then watches, resigned, as the flesh heals up and the lungs push water out until it’s coughing its way back to undeniable life.

“You rescued me,” is the first thing Yusuf says to him. “Your song – it is the song of my heart. My soul.”

Nicolò...has no idea what to do with this, coughs awkwardly in reply, and leaves before he can think too hard about the warmth in his chest answering to the warmth in the human’s expressive, grateful eyes.

(He doesn’t tell Yusuf the truth about their bloody first meeting until years later. It’s too goddamn embarrassing, to be perfectly honest.)

Of course he comes back within a day, almost shamefully quickly. Unable to help being fascinated by this gorgeous, well-spoken, kind and generous human who cannot die. He starts bringing things to Yusuf: at first just fish, then interesting-shaped fragments of rock and coral, and then bits of treasure he’s collected over the years, just to hear what new poetic turn of phrase Yusuf will spout on the spot when he’s given something.

“...this is my family crest on this treasure chest, Nicolò. How strange.”

“It is the chest you said your great-great-grandfather lost,” Nicolò says, the words coming out dry and halting from long years of disuse. Watching Yusuf’s hands as he traces the elaborate lines engraved on the lid, now blurred with rust and coral. 

“That’s amazing. Truly. I am at a loss for words,” Yusuf says, smiling.

“No, you aren’t,” Nicolò says, and keeps watching so he can see the moment when the smile turns into a laugh.

Another day, he brings to Yusuf what Booker had told him was called a ‘dinglehopper’ and was what humans used to keep their hair in order, as they did not have the ocean to spread it out like beautiful seaweed in the waves. Yusuf takes it, mouth twitching in a way that makes Nicolò doubt the accuracy of Booker’s explanation. Yet Yusuf does not correct him, but in fact solemnly thanks him before offering the dinglehopper back and asking him to help untangle his riot of curls.

And so it goes. Days pass. Fascination becomes infatuation, turns to desire and then into love, until neither can imagine living without the other, and yet—

Eventually, Nicolò has to give Yusuf up. The prince is too noble and good to just abandon his people indefinitely. And because Nicolò loves him, he goes out and once more lures a ship in with his song, but not to dash it to pieces on jagged rocks this time. He leads them to the island. Watches from a distance as the astonished shouting begins, then back-pounding hugs and joyous celebration as Yusuf boards the ship and sails away. Watches Yusuf turn back more than once to scan the beach, clearly looking for Nicolò, but Nicolò does not follow. Instead, he watches until the ship is lost to his sight and he cannot feel the ship’s current or smell, and then he dives deep and goes to visit Merrick.

Meanwhile, Yusuf arrives back at the capital, where his other best friend, Quỳnh (immortal admiral of the navy) feels terribly guilty about the prince going overboard on his birthday. Which is why she uncharacteristically doesn’t give him shit when he comes back babbling nonsense about mermaids. Or when he spends the next few weeks moping around, writing mermaid poetry and drawing mermaid pictures.

To be fair to him, the particular mermaid he sketches over and over does look pretty striking. Otherworldly and all that. Good cheekbones. Nice pearly scales. “Fucking...giant anglerfish eyes,” Quỳnh mutters while she and Andy look over the latest pile of sketches Yusuf’s left abandoned on a library table. “Our prince has been fucking bewitched by a fucking fish.”

“Mm,” Andy agrees. 

So when Nicolò arrives at the palace one fine summer’s day – naked, his fangs smoothed away to look perfectly human, a giant emerald in one hand and a silver fork in the other – and walking, on legs, it causes a bit of an uproar.

“You still smell like the sea,” Yusuf says hoarsely into Nicolò’s neck, the two of them wrapped around each other as closely as two bodies can be.

“Oh, fuck,” Andy says, lowering her axe. Quỳnh looks more closely at the dirty naked wild man their prince is embracing as if his life depends on it. Angular face. Skin encrusted with salt. Absolutely enormous piercing blue eyes. Naked, did we mention naked.

“Oh, fuck,” Quỳnh says.

“You get them separated,” Andy says. “I’ll go...get them a bath.”

The price Nicolò paid for his new human shape:

His siren song.

His immortality.

What he gets in return:

Yusuf teaching him what a dinglehopper is actually called, and what humans actually use it for.

Yusuf teaching him how to read and write his native tongue, and a few other tongues besides.

Yusuf reading poetry to him or sketching next to him on long lazy afternoons in the gardens.

The immense pleasure of intimidating the fuck out of any remaining would-be suitors for Yusuf’s hand in marriage who are still hanging around the palace for some reason.

“I am Nicolò di Genova,” Nicolò replies to the marquis’s indignant demands – predator’s smile still frightening even without endless rows of needle-sharp teeth. “You have seven days to leave this place forever. Get your affairs in order.”

Friendship with Andy and Quỳnh.

“Holy shit. Did he just—”

“—stab the marquis with a fork, at dinner, in front of the entire court? Yep.”

“...”

“...”

“New best friend.”

“Obviously.”

Yusuf writing poetry about him and to him. Nicolò likes them all. He wouldn't know a good human poem from a bad human poem, but nothing Yusuf touches could be bad, so ergo it's good.

Sightseeing throughout the kingdom with Yusuf’s strong, gentle fingers twined around his.

Yusuf breathing blissful curses into Nicolò’s ear, exactly like he used to do on their island, as they move together on his enormous bed.

Yusuf. Yusuf. Yusuf.

(Booker is also there. He insisted on being turned human, too, and coming along to make sure Nicolò doesn’t totally fuck this up, but he’s really mainly there for the entertainment. And the booze. Andy asks him at one point about losing his immortality. He shrugs. “Look, if we die, we die,” he says, then offers Andy another pour of fine French brandy. The two of them get along famously.)

It’s all going great until one night on the beach, while they’re walking along hand-in-hand under the stars and idly discussing human and merfolk constellations. Someone approaches them, dressed splendidly and moving with arrogant grace. He is also angular, also fair-haired, also possessed of unsettling eyes. And he has Nicolò’s siren song, gently humming from the shell that adorns his neck.

“Merrick,” Nicolò hisses as Yusuf’s eyes grow glazed and blank, and he tightens his hand on Yusuf’s, afraid for the first time. “Our deal—”

“He can’t bear the idea of living forever without you, can he? And so he hasn’t proposed,” Merrick says, smiling cruelly. “You’ve missed your chance. He’s mine.” And he extends his hand out to Yusuf—

Who stirs, suddenly, and turns to Nicolò. “Limpid, or shimmering?” 

“What?”

“Shimmering,” Yusuf decides, peering into Nicolò’s eyes. “Yes. Limpid would be too pretentious, I think.”

And that’s pretty much that – we don’t actually get the plot with Merrick the Sea Witch because Yusuf only has eyes for one weird-looking white guy. Also, his one artistic failing is that he's tone deaf.

They do eventually kill Merrick because true love wins out and we are all about those happy endings, Grimm’s can suck it, etcetera, so Nicolò gets his immortality and his siren song back. He’s also back to being a merman, but Yusuf does not care. “I could paint your beautiful tail for the rest of my life, my love, and still fail to capture the luminous iridescence of you,” he murmurs, stroking said tail with tender fingers. The last person to touch Nicolò’s tail got his hand bitten off. Here and now, Nicolò runs his claws through Yusuf’s hair, clicking deep and happy in his throat.

(“This is weird, right?” Quỳnh asks from where she and Andy are busy scraping evil kraken guts off their armor, a prudent distance down the beach from the lovers. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird?”

Andy says nothing, just offers Quỳnh the rest of her bottle of vodka. This is why Quỳnh loves her so.)

(The wedding is a nightmare, at least according to the palace chef charged with cooking the wedding feast. “What is this, this, abomination? What in heaven’s name have you brought into my kitchen!”

“Tubeworm,” Booker says. “Considered a fine delicacy among our people. Don’t worry about it.”)

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123

~^~

Wednesday, 17:47

Song: Troye Sivan - for him.

“This technically wasn’t fair, because I’ve only been here a month and I had no idea if somewhere like this even existed, so you can’t judge me too harshly.”

Jens is already smiling at him, shaking his head as he bumps their shoulders together. “It’s okay. It’s hard to live up to such a perfect first date, I get it.”

Lucas huffs, but he can’t help quickly glancing around. He isn’t sure why it worries him quite so much—even if they were overheard, it can be brushed off as a joke. Jens had said it jokingly. It would be easy enough.

There is no one close enough to hear them, anyway. Not a single person, as far as Lucas can see, is paying any attention to them at all. The rather cluttered place makes it easier, creating an odd sense of privacy even with the crowd along with the strangely intimate ambience of the neon blue lights. Lucas doesn’t feel so scrutinized in this setting, where everyone is having their own fun and doing their own thing.

“Can that be considered a first date when neither of us thought it was?” Lucas questions, both dubious and hopeful.

Jens shrugs, glancing around them as well as he walks slowly side by side with Lucas. “It can be. But an arcade is also a cool first date. It’s not what I expected.”

Lucas’s lips twitch, unsure which way to turn as he looks over at him. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Snuck back into your room, maybe. Some more alone time.” Jens wiggles his brows.

Lucas snorts and gives him a light shove, smiling when Jens bounces right back to his side. “That’s up to you. Like I said, I don’t know anywhere. And it was short notice.”

Jens nods, and the conversation lulls as they stop at the change machine, before Lucas begins to get nervous for a whole new reason.

“Are you disappointed?” He twists his ring—the one he’d stolen from his father’s room, just for this occasion—around his finger as Jens turns to look at him. He’s frowning, and even though Lucas is pretty sure it’s at the question itself, he can’t help but grow more jittery. There’s a sudden, uncomfortable tightness in his chest. In an attempt to make light of the question, he adds, exaggeratedly, “Did you expect to be romanced?”

Jens rolls his eyes as he fishes his money out of his pocket, but there appears to be a more reddish tinge to his cheeks. “I thought you might be the romantic type. Maybe that you’d cook us a candle-lit dinner or something.”

Lucas raises a brow. “Serious?”

His nerves have turned into surprise, and it must show in his expression, as Jens laughs upon glancing at him. “I didn’t say that’s what I wanted, though.”

“Well to be fair, I probably could manage a burger and chips. I’m guessing that’s the dinner you’d want.”

Jens turns to him after feeding his notes into the machine and wipes away a fake tear. “You already know me so well.”

Lucas hums. “I also know there’s a cafe that offers such a delicacy right down the street.”

“You, sir,” Jens points at him, bright-eyed, “know the way to my heart.”

Lucas huffs a laugh and Jens collects his change from where it has clattered into the metal pocket. His fears haven’t been curbed, but he doesn’t want to press further and ruin the experience before it has even begun. He’d thought about a handful of other options. Taking Jens to a cafe or a coffee shop, booking them into the back corner of the cinema, retreating back to his room as Jens suggested. Every idea seemed too bland or too much. He didn’t want to force them into conversation across a table. He also didn’t want to feel like he was having to hide Jens away. This had seemed, somehow, like a safe middle ground.

He’s a little worried now that he has misjudged.

“Shut down whatever’s going on in there.” Jens snaps his fingers lightly in front of his face and Lucas drags himself back to the surface. Jens’s gaze is soft with a tint of concern. Lucas’s stomach roils. “I don’t know why you chose it exactly, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a great choice. In fact it’s a fucking amazing idea.”

Some of the tension seeps out of Lucas at the conviction in Jens’s tone, and he’s left with a slight smile. “Yeah?”

“Luc, it wouldn’t have mattered to me what we do. It’s a chance to be with you. I don’t care about anything else.”

Lucas feels a flush creep into his cheeks. He waits as a small group of girls pass them before nodding agreeably at Jens. “That’s kind of why I chose this. Above anything I was just really happy to be friends with you. I like how easy it is. How I can just hang out with you and have fun. And to have it just feel chill.”

Jens’s lips curve up in a soft smile, and Lucas watches the entire process. “I like when everything’s chill, too. This is very chill.”

“More your scene than a candle-lit dinner?” Lucas teases. Even though it has come to his own mind. He can’t be blamed, surely, for having a few romantic or cheesy thoughts enter his brain when it comes to Jens. It might not be his thing, but that doesn’t mean that Jens doesn’t deserve to be romanced. Lucas, really, would gladly put in the effort.

It’s possible that this is another thing that stems from his slightly-less-chill mindset.

“Definitely more my scene,” Jens laughs. “I told you, you know me well. You’re full of surprises.”

Lucas brightens, feeling another blush creep into his cheeks that he fruitlessly attempts to stave off. He clears his throat in an attempt to retain some control before saying, “I just don’t know why you changed your money. This is my organised date. I should be paying.”

Jens sets a hand on his shoulder and uses it to pull him against his side as they begin walking again, speaking slowly. “You assume we’re only playing like five games and leaving then?”

Lucas is torn between leaning into his side and subtly stepping out of his touch. He can’t quite bring himself to do either. He also can’t help but flick his gaze around as he answers with a huff. “Okay, splitting is fair. But I’m buying dinner this time.”

“You say it like I’m going to argue,” Jens snorts. He drops his arm as they reach the middle of the aisle in order to turn and face Lucas, brows raised as he takes a few step backwards. Lucas’s breath slips out of him in quiet relief and aching loss. “What are we doing first?”

Lucas smiles at him. “Your treat, you pick.”

Jens rubs his hands together, grinning like a child before leading Lucas through the aisles until he finds what he wants. They start off with a few chance games that their change is wasted on, then move on to the slightly more adventurous areas, having a few competitive shots at skee-ball and basketball. They even have a simulated bowling game, which Lucas finds only slightly easier than actual bowling. The embarrassment is worth it for Jens’s responding laugh—which he valiantly tries to bite down—and the comforting kiss he presses to his cheek after a quick glance around. It makes Lucas’s cheeks flame and leaves him shoving Jens’s face away, heart racing a mile a minute with the pure affection in his chest.

It overwhelms him enough that he has to look away, swallowing down the tumultuous mixture of excitement and nerves that seems to be warring in him. He wants to pull Jens in and give him a real kiss. He wants to get out of sight first.

“Okay, your turn to pick something, because that was truly pitiful.”

Lucas narrows his eyes at Jens, but smirks slightly as he catches sight of their next attraction.

Air hockey.

It’s free, blessedly, as most things have been; Wednesday is a surprisingly good choice for a quiet date. Jens raises his brows as Lucas moves to one end and picks up the paddle, sliding it across the table testingly. “Really?”

Lucas hums.

“What are we, twelve?”

“What’s wrong with air hockey? My mom has always loved it, and she’s far past twelve.”

Lucas isn’t sure why Jens’s expression has gone suddenly serious until he, now stationed at the opposite side, says, “You���ve never mentioned her before.”

Then Lucas realises his mistake.

“Not that you have to,” Jens backtracks quickly. “Sorry, I don’t know if it’s a sensitive subject or—“

“It’s fine,” Lucas cuts him off, even though it is. Any mention of his mother strikes a nerve, leaves a panging ache. The idea of talking about her himself—even to Jens—feels too treacherous. Yet he feels that he owes something. “It’s, uhm. It’s just more frustrating than anything, I guess. They split up. My parents, I mean. So she’s back in Utrecht.”

Jens seems to have expected something worse. The sag of his shoulders makes Lucas glad he hadn’t given him the full story. Not today. “I guess it makes even more sense why you wanna go back so badly,” Jens says softly. “Have you talked to your dad about it again?”

Lucas lets out a breath as his own shoulders slump, shaking his head. “Not yet. Things are going good, somehow, at the moment. But I think once I bring it up that will change, and...it’s been kind of nice, living in peace.”

That earns him an understanding smile. “Still, you should try. It’s important to you. He’ll see that.” Jens slots the money into the machine and adds, “If not, I’ll come break you out and we can go together.”

Lucas smiles slowly. “Someone’s a rebel now, are we?”

“Just for you,” Jens winks at him, leaving Lucas to roll his eyes in an attempt to hide his blush. Jens taps the table impatiently, nodding at him through the screen. “Come on then. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s teasing, and his scoff is equally so when Lucas shrugs off his jacket first, tying it securely around his waist. Jens’s amusement doesn’t stop him from admiring, however. Lucas notes the lingering gaze on his collar followed by the sweep down his arms to watch the movement of his hands. Lucas has begun, happily, to notice Jens’s lack of subtlety in such moments of appreciation, and it never fails to leave him grinning.

“Really?” Jens questions again. “Air hockey requires this?”

Lucas merely raises a brow, challenging. “Ah, now I understand why you were against it. You’re just scared of losing a kids’ game.”

Jens rolls his eyes in vague disagreement. “They’re all kids’ games,” he mumbles. When Lucas only continues to look at him, he waves a hand in a gesture to start.

Lucas collects the puck from the pocket on his side and drops it on the table. He aligns it carefully before leaning down, shooting one last glance at Jens before taking his shot.

It fires right into Jens’s goal before he even has a chance to move.

Jens snatches his hand away and stares at the table before lifting his eyes to Lucas in astonishment. Lucas merely offers him a smug smile.

“Okay,” Jens says slowly, while, to Lucas’s pleasure, shrugging off his own jacket. “It’s on, Van Der Heijden.”

[awakendreamersworld]

Here’s the final chapter! Between Worlds

"Hey! Let me go!" Alberto shouted struggling to get free from the Sirens' grips. The group of sirens swam back to their kingdom and threw Alberto into their dungeon and locked the gate, "We'll set you free once you've admit to the Ocean and not to humans." The other brunette Siren said and closed the door to the dungeon leaving Alberto in his cage alone in the dark with nothing but glow worms and some jellyfish to brighten everything. After a few hours, Maria woke up. At first she looked around confused then remembered her tribe came and took Alberto, she huffed and started swimming fast and quickly to her kingdom.

Luca and Giulia woke to find Alberto and Maria gone, "Where'd they go now?" Giulia sighed tired of Maria running away with Alberto. "I don't know, maybe to Alberto's island again?" Luca said, "Alberto better appreciate that he has a few days off!" Giulia said and went back inside the house with Luca. After swimming and traveling through fast ocean currents and other oceans, Maria made it to her kingdom. Her kingdom looked like any other kingdom except it looked rocky and had giant pointed spikes coming out from the top and had millions of tiny lights covering it. Maria swam down and to the back of the kingdom where the dungeons were deep down below. Alberto picked up a medium sized rock and started banging it against his cage door and screaming, "LET! ME! OUT!" But it was no use, the gates were made out of very thick seashells and the rock broke into pieces. Alberto sighed and sat down in a corner curled up, then he heard some guards outside coughing in pain then go silent. The door opened and Maria swam inside, "Alberto? Are you there?" She whispered, "Maria!" Alberto said excitedly "Shh! I'm going to get you out of here! But we have to be quiet!" Maria whispered pulling out some keys from the guards and unlocking Alberto's cell. Once the cage was opened Alberto swam out, "Thanks Mari-" He said as Maria swam quickly to him and hugged him, "You shouldn't have tried to protect me, Alberto I told you about my tribe and what they do to outsiders!" Maria said in an angry tone but with a hint of scared and sadness. "It's fine, Maria! They weren't gonna torture me or anything! And the thing you really need to worry about is yourself! You heard what their leader said about you, you return here they'll kill you!" Alberto said worriedly holding Maria's head close to his face. "That's not important right now, I have to get you out of here!" Maria said grabbing Alberto's hand and swimming back out the way she came in, sneaking past the guards and hiding in the shadows. After making it out of the kingdom, Maria and Alberto started swimming higher and higher out of the kingdoms' zone and towards the surface.

The brunette leader came by the dungeon to check on Alberto and see if he was ready to give up to liking humans only to find her guards dead on the ground from venom and the dungeon gates wide open, she swam inside and saw Alberto was gone with his cage wide open. She screeched ordering some of her guards to her side, "I want every guard to searched this entire kingdom for that Sea Monster! I want ten of you to follow me towards the surface to see if he escaped far!" She ordered and most of the guards began their search around the kingdom and the ten others swimming with their leader to search for Alberto.

Maria and Alberto continue to swim upwards until they come across a current, "C'mon." Maria said still holding Alberto's hand "We swim through and let the current take us through the ocean. And soon we'll be back home to Portorroso" She said as they both enter the current and start swimming faster than before rushing through the ocean. The brunette was close to where Alberto and Maria was and smelled Maria's scent, "Maria..." She said in a angry growl "She dared to come back and take our prisoner!? You see her on sight, you kill her!" She said and started following Maria's scent towards the ocean current and swimming through following the trail.

After a few hours of swimming far and traveling through more ocean currents, they made it close to their home. "We just have to swim for a few more hours and we'll be back in Portorroso." Maria said with a smile, Alberto smiled back then looked up, "LOOK OUT!" He shouted tackling and pushing Maria out of the way as a wooden spear was thrown at them along with a screaming screech. They both looked up and saw the leader with her guards, "SEIZE THEM!" She shouted and her guards started swimming after Maria and Alberto. Alberto grabbed Maria's hand and tried to swim away, but Maria wouldn't budge, she turned and faced Alberto smiling, "Go home to your family, Alberto. I'll be fine." She said and let go of Alberto's hand then started grabbing the spear that they threw at her and swam towards the guards fighting them one by one. One guard took a swing and Maria tried to dodge but he left a long red mark on her back causing her to bleed, "Maria!" Alberto shouted, "Just go, Alberto! This is my fight! Just go on and live your life with your family! Forget about me..." She said as the guards start surrounding her and she smiles at Alberto. Alberto stared at Maria with heavy breathes, then remembered something and started swimming away. Maria swam up getting out of the guard dogpile as they each collide with each other. Maria saw that they were in a pile all at once and took the chance, she started swimming up a bit and back down with her wooden spear striking through their midsections like a fish kabob. The leader growled, "You just don't know when to give up, don't you?" She said, "Its how I was born." Maria replied, "Why do you side with humans? They hunt us, they killed millions of our kind! And others!" The leader shouted swimming a bit closer to Maria, "Not all of them are like that! I met a human girl-child and her father. When they noticed I was a Siren, they still let me into their home and opened their hearts to me, same with Alberto! They long known that he's a Sea Monster and still trust him!" Maria said trying to talk some sense into the leader who was starting to circle Maria. "That's just them, what about the other humans? The one's above our kingdom? The one's across oceans? Their all the same! I don't care if few pity our pain, their race has been killing ours!" The brunette leader started shouting and pushed Maria to the ground raising her spear.

"We raised you to be one of us! To be the next generation of our other leaders! But you bring shame and death, and now I'm gonna make sure that the humans stay above the surface!" She said starting to bring down her spear when all of a sudden another spear is thrown at her cutting her arm and making her drop her spear. Maria pushed her away and swam back and turned to see Alberto. "Alberto? What are you doing back here? I told you to go home!" She shouted, "Yeah, but you protected me, so now I'll protect you." He said smiling. Maria's eyes widened in surprised and smiled back. The leader grunted in pain but then grabbed her spear again, "You both will pay for this!" She shouted and started swimming towards Alberto first ready to kill him when Maria got in front and held up her spear. As the leader rushed towards them, Maria's spear pierced through the leader's stomach. The brunette looked down at her wound, then back at Maria and Alberto, "You do know that not all will accept us, right?" She said "I know... and I know how to tell which one's." Maria said. The leader sighed, "Just be careful out there, my daughter..." she said then let out another sigh and passed. Maria let go of the spear and stared at her superior in sadness. "Maria? You ok?" Alberto asked putting his hand on her shoulder, "I'm fine... let's bury her, so she'll be in peace." Maria said and took out the spear and then dragged the body to the ocean floor.

After a few hours of burying her mother, Maria and Alberto swam back to Portorroso and to the human town. They both came out of the water and dried themselves turning back into humans as Giulia and Luca was coming outside to ride their bikes together. "It's about time you two came back! Alberto did you show her like, the entire stash of your human collection or something?" Giulia said "Uhh... Yeah! Gotta teach her something right?" Alberto said putting his arm around Maria, "Next time, don't take so long and don't sneak out!" Giulia said getting on her bike and riding away.

Maria and Alberto giggled a bit and went inside the house, Alberto patched up Maria's back wound as they hung out in the tree. "I hope everything is finally over and calm for us." Alberto said tiredly, Maria giggled "Yeah, hopefully." She said looking up at the sunset sky. "Do you miss her?" Alberto asked looking at Maria, "Sometimes, but life goes on. That's the important thing she taught me." Maria said laying next to Alberto, "Just saying, if your feeling lonely you know that I'm still here!" He said, "Yes, I know." Maria said snuggling next to Alberto as wraps his arm around her and they fall asleep. Giulia and Luca was watching from the window, "Wow, they sure are attached to each other!" Luca said, "Cause their in love, Luca! That's how it goes when you meet someone similar to you." Giulia said "C'mon, let's leave them alone for now. I got another pirate book! Wanna see?" She said closing the window, "Yeah!" Luca said excitedly and hopped down from the window and onto Giulia's floor as they start reading their new book.

[ahatintimestorybook]

A Royal Problem Chap. 22

Hey everyone! I’m back with a brand new chapter!

Sorry if I put the story on a month break. It was a spur of the moment decision for the month of May. I was focusing on my other fanfics to give them a time in the spotlight before I finished off ARP! Also I didn’t want to end ARP so soon, another reason why I gave the story a break!

Now that the story is back in production we can finally showcase the final battle and the ending I have picked for this story!

Also, I’ve been re-working my discord server so now it looks good! If you want to join the link is https://discord.gg/4pz5hHZWvV

Enjoy!!!

Slight warning: There is blood in this chapter.

Vanessa and Snatcher screamed as they left the portal and landed back inside the manor on the attic level. They slowly got up and saw they were back in their own world. The duo got up and brushed themselves off and heard a blast, which sounded like Hat Kid’s brewing potions. Snatcher and Vanessa went over to the window, where they saw what had been going on.

Moonjumper was winning the fight, and Hat Kid was injured more than ever. Blood was trickling down her nose and mouth, she had marks from Moonjumper’s strings, her clothes and hat were torn and ripped. Mu, however was on the ground watching the rest of the fight, she too was injured and bleeding, but it seemed her arm was broken as she watched her best friend continue the fight.

Vanessa and Snatcher watched the fight in horror, seeing they’ve been gone for maybe an hour or two and Hat Kid was still fighting to protect them. During the fight Vanessa saw that Moonjumper still had the Time Piece, and it was now tied to his waist.

“Now how do we grab the Time Piece?” Vanessa asked, disappointed seeing there was no easy way of grabbing the Time Piece now.

“Later.” Snatcher answered as he took Vanessa’s hand, which made her turn to face him. “Right now, we have friends to save!” He dashed out of the basement to where the fight was going on, outside of the manor.

Hat Kid got hit with another attack from Moonjumper, and stayed down. She slowly opened her eyes to see Moonjumper looming over her. “Let’s wrap this up!” He said in a sinister tone as he started to form red strings that looked as sharp as a knife and was ready to aim at Hat Kid.

The time traveling child letting out a shivered gasp, and let out a gulp bracing herself for her death. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. Not to Moonjumper, but to Snatcher and Vanessa. She failed them, they’re stuck in some world as children, and now she was about to accept her fate until she felt a cold chill in front of her.

Opening her eyes, Hat Kid saw that Moonjumper’s strings were frozen and crumbled into nothing but snow. Moonjumper and Hat Kid turned and saw Vanessa and Snatcher outside with their powers ready to fight Moonjumper.

Hat Kid smiled seeing her friends were alright. “You're okay.” She whispered.

“H-how?” Moonjumper asked. “How did you escape the Horizon?!”

Snatcher smiled, “Let’s just say an old friend of yours showed us the way out.” He told him.

Moonjumper glared and growled knowing who it was. He then floated over to them, and the royal kids were ready to fight him. Snatcher and Vanessa split apart, which made Moonjumper to fight them. The moon ghost felt a burn on his shoulder and let out a painful yell. He looked at his injury and saw it was Snatcher who caused it.

Snatcher snickered, getting a hit on Moonjumper. The latter was not so happy, and was ready to kill the kids. “YOU BRATS!” He growled. “SENDING YOU TO THE HORIZON WASN’T ENOUGH! SO MURDERING YOU IS THE NEXT BEST THING!” Strings started to appear from his hands as he tried to capture Snatcher.

The young prince missed the attack and burned the strings, causing them to turn to ashes and blow away in the wind. “Do you think killing us would work, we’ll just be ghosts again and kick you-“ Snatcher got cut off when pixelated boxes hovered above him and projectiles were about to land on him.

Snatcher missed the attack, however the force of the projectiles pushed him back causing him to slide into the snow.

“Think threads were just my motif? Think again.” Moonjumper sneered. He then started to glow blue as he started to ram into Snatcher. The young prince had barely time to get up before Moonjumper rammed him into a wall.

Vanessa gasped seeing Snatcher slammed into the wall “Snatcher!” She exclaimed, however instead of calling him Lucas, she called him by his new name, Snatcher. Growling, she stomped on the ground and a bunch of ice crystals came crashing towards Moonjumper, which pushed him back and caused him to drop Snatcher.

On the ground confused, Snatcher turned to Vanessa who was now running towards him. “You called me Snatcher.” Snatcher said surprised.

Vanessa chuckled and helped Snatcher up. “Well I think it’s a lovely name then Lucas.” She revealed. Snatcher smiled, but before they could get cute and romantic they heard Moonjumper getting up.

“Oh you dumb BRATS!” Moonjumper shouted. He then launched a string attack on them. Snatcher and Vanessa quickly missed the attack, but Moonjumper wasn’t going to let them miss that easily. He then dashed and grabbed Vanessa slamming her down to the ground by her throat.

“Vanessa!” Snatcher screamed.

Vanessa whimpered as she struggled to get out of Moonjumper’s grasp. The moon ghost chuckled, raising a claw to slash Vanessa, but before he could do so a light blue blast hit Moonjumper. Despite the attack pushing him away, Moonjumper still left a scratch on Vanessa’s cheek.

Hat Kid, with the little energy she had, used her umbrella blast to push the ghost out of the way.

Snatcher made his way towards Vanessa and gave her a quick hug. “You okay? He didn’t…” Snatcher gasped seeing blood trickle from Vanessa’s cheek. The young princess saw Snatcher’s expression and touched her cheek. She shivered seeing the blood on her hands.

This made Snatcher glare and growl at Moonjumper. The moon ghost got up, and turned to see Snatcher ready to attack him, but Moonjumper used his strings and grabbed Snatcher.

Moonjumper then threw Snatcher into the air, and soon he flew up and slammed Snatcher into the ground. Vanessa gasped, and once the smoke cleared Snatcher was okay, but gravely injured.

The young prince slowly got up, but Moonjumper kept him pinned down. “You just love to mess with me kid.” He hissed. Moonjumper raised his claws and striked Snatcher. A loud scream came from this child’s mouth.

Vanessa gasped and slowly went over to where Snatcher and Moonjumper landed. Snatcher started to bleed through his stomach, slowly getting weaker from the fight. He never thought Moonjumper was this tough to beat. Then, Snatcher saw he had a chance, with Moonjumper on top of him he saw the Time Piece just inches away from him. He needed to do this now, if he didn’t, everyone would die at the hands of Moonjumper.

“So any final words, Prince Lucas?” Moonjumper asked, raising his claws once again.

Snatcher nodded slowly, before determination and trickery was in his eyes. “Fool.” He said in a low voice and kicked Moonjumper hard in the stomach. The ghost was pushed back with force as the Time Piece fell from his grasp. He tried to catch it, but it got caught by Snatcher.

“No!” Moonjumper yelled.

Vanessa helped her prince up as the two got ready to use the Time Piece and transform back. “Sorry Moonjumper, but your time is up!” Vanessa yelled.

Snatcher chuckled as he grabbed the last shard from his pocket and placed it on the hole. Soon, the Time Piece glowed brightly. “Let’s do this together Vanessa!” Snatcher commanded.

“Right!” Vanessa replied. She put her hand on the Time Piece as she and Snatcher held it together. Moonjumper growled and went to charge at them again. “Do we smash it now?” She asked.

“Not yet.” Snatcher told her.

The two royal kids waited for the right time for Moonjumper to get close to them. Vanessa was scared and looked at Snatcher waiting for his signal. Just before Moonjumper could strike, Snatcher shouted, “Vanessa NOW!”

Soon the two royal kids slammed the Time Piece on the ground causing it to shatter once again. Moonjumper was pushed back by the blast and Hat Kid and Mu covered their eyes from it.

Once the light started to fade, Hat Kid saw two silhouettes from where Vanessa and Snatcher were once standing. “S-Snatcher? V-Vanessa?” She asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes sorry for the short chapter! I’m ending this here as this is where the different endings would start. So the next chapter will be one of the endings, which is the TRUE main ending to this story!!

[emmakillianfan]

A Christmas Story for You

To @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ for Christmas. While I haven’t had as much time for it as I had hoped, I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas and enjoy this little story that kind of got away from me. Merry Christmas and a very happy new year to you!

Due to illness and post graduate studies I’m a bit rusty on the fanfiction story writing, but I hope you enjoy it. I have loved the opportunity to be your secret santa. As I said from the beginning, I’m a big fan of your writing.

Getting to Know You at Christmas

Emma Swan hated to mingle at these social events her parents held each year as a welcome to the holiday season. Her mother easily socialized with people, remembering names and details of each person’s life in the coastal town of Storybrooke, Maine. Her father was just as gregarious, shaking hands and clapping older gentlemen on the back as the mused over details of long-ago exchanges and funny occurrences that she never quite could understand. She liked people, even had friends. But there was something missing for her from the conversations and laughter that seemed to lift over the swell of Christmas carols and the flashes of lights from the tree and cameras snapping shots of huddled groups of friends, family, and compatriots.

“Your mother is worried about you,” Ruby Lucas-Gale said with a knowing smile as Emma reached for another mini pizza and shoved it in whole. “You don’t look happy.”

Keeping her lips sealed, Emma shot her friend a plastered smile and shrug.

“You could at least move away from the bar. She’s going to think this is a re-do of last year’s party where you went to bed with a bottle of tequila under each arm after telling everyone that you were sleeping until the new year.”

“I should have kept that promise,” Emma groused, giving a slight wave when her mother looked at her pleadingly. “I could have avoided the Christmas Karaoke party at Victor’s, the cookie exchange at your grandmother’s, and let’s not forget the pot luck at Regina and Robin’s where I was shamed for bringing your grandmother’s frozen lasagna as my contribution. Not only had Regina made one, but I didn’t even realize it was still frozen.”

“You brought a pie too,” Ruby reminded her. “I don’t remember anyone noting that was store bought.”

“I ate it in the car working up the nerve to go inside because my mother set me up on a date. Who does that? Blind dates on Christmas?”

“She means well,” Ruby added consolingly, patting her hands down her red dress that seemed to creep up her toned thighs each time she moved. “And Graham was…”

Emma held up one hand in protest. “Don’t defend him. First he was your ex. He was nice but a little or more than a little too intense with his whole getting back to nature and communing with animals thing. My mother has horrible taste in men for me. For a woman who believes in fairy tales and calls my father her prince charming, I don’t think she would survive a day on Tinder.” It had been the long running commentary at the parties that somewhere in the crowd was there to be set up with Emma. Some who did not partake in the dancing or singing along around the piano would try to guess who it was going to be this year. Bets were currently on about a gawky man with a green tie who was currently chatting up Zelena Mills in the corner.

“Just remember she means well.” Linking arms with Emma, Ruby pulled her friend out onto the makeshift dance floor and began to sway her hips to the beat of a modern Christmas tune that Emma knew was by some current pop singer. “So I’m guessing your next date is in here somewhere. Where oh where could he be?”

“You are annoying,” Emma pouted, folding her arms over her chest yet still swaying a bit to the up-tempo beat. “I thought you had money that guy in the green tie.” He was the typical type her mother would love to see her date. She could hear the school teacher turned public servant now telling her how she just knew he was the kind of guy she would love to get to know.

“Possibility,” Ruby said, tapping her bright red lips in mock thoughtfulness. “What about Archie?” He’s been hanging around over in that corner in a conversation with Regina and Robin for a little bit now. Seems to look over here every once in a while.”

“Everyone is looking at you, Ruby,” Emma hissed in exasperation. You are showing more skin that is advisable with the temperature and you’re currently bumping and grinding to Christmas tunes.”

“Maybe he’s setting up some pre-marital counseling for them. Okay…one of the guys from the mines? Leroy?”

“That’s a tad incestuous since they are practically my uncles.” Emma scanned the crowd to see her father and mother in conversation over by the French doors leading out to the patio that had been sprayed with twinkle lights and that included a new audio system he had spent the day fiddling with as her younger brother tried out the microphones in his own rendition of some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was just 14 and still at that awkward stage, suffering the embarrassment of parents who doted and friends who loved to point that out to him. Her own son idolized him though. “I’m thinking he’s a no show. My mom is in her plotting mode. Look at the way she’s talking to my dad.”

Sure enough her parents were furtively whispering, her mother holding up a hand to hide her mouth as though nobody would notice. It would be debated for years to come which of the two women noticed him first though. A slender, tall man with piercing blue eyes and sardonic smile seemed to rush up to her parents and hug them in turn. Even though Emma couldn’t make out the words, her father gave the man his double shoulder clap before spinning him about to the crowd and pointing out a few people.

“Maybe him,” Ruby said, lifting onto the balls of her feet even higher than her shoes allowed and balancing herself against Emma. “He’s a hottie.”

“Doubtful,” Emma noted, swinging her gaze across the room to the man in the green tie who was now eating a banana and doing nothing for his resemblance to a simian creature as Ruby had declared. “I don’t have that sort of luck. My mother doesn’t…” She never got to finish the sentence when she noted who had just entered the party and made a line straight toward greeting her parents. Neal…the once love of her life turned affection into weapons and her self confidence into a puddle of what if. She was better now, but the sight of him seemed to jangle her nerves in a way that made her doubt her recovery. They managed to co-parent their son with little trouble, but he wasn’t one she wanted to see socially. The fact he always had a date on his arm just added to her discomfort.

Ruby was one of the few people who understood. Twirling her in the direction of the mystery man who was now noshing on a few of the crisp veggies without bothering to dip them into the various sauces, Ruby leaned in and whispered loudly in Emma’s ear. “Don’t question it. Just go introduce yourself. It’ll be less awkward that way.”

Emma would forever question the logic in that, but for the moment felt her feet begin to move one after the other and in no time she was standing in front of him. His eyes were even more striking up close and she caught a whiff of his cologne that was a spicey scent that she would later blame for her mouth watering and her words feeling like they slid off her tongue without regard to custom or reason.

“Emma,” she said by way of invitation. Her smile was a little forced and her hand held out in mid air a beat too long as he shoved a celery stick in his mouth and raised his own in greeting. “I guess my parents probably told you that.”

“Your parents?” he repeated, the smiled he was giving her lifted higher on the right side of his face as did his right eyebrow. He seemed to be surprised by her, almost as if he was not expecting the conversation. That irritated her a bit.

She gave a wave over her shoulder to where they stood by the fireplace. “Mary Margaret and David. The Nolans. You were just talking to them.”

“Aye, David and my older brother went to school together back in the day. They invited me to…”

She brushed off his explanation. “No, I get it. It’s so them. They don’t think I have any skills in that area at all. Apparently, they have given up on finding someone local.” She shrugged and when he seemed he wasn’t going to answer, she reached across and grabbed a carrot stick. Placing it in her mouth she made a face and immediately removed it. “Rabbit food.”

“You do know how to flatter man, love. I’m not sure I would want to be just one of the multitudes.” His smile was wider as he watched her, his questions about her easy and slick as she tried to explain that her parents were young when she was born and waited nearly two decades before their miracle child was born. He seemed to know nothing about her, which was odd for a set up. Maybe he was just being polite.

“So you’re not from around here,” she asked when he paused to take a drink. Even over the rim of the cup his eyebrows raised again. “I’m the sheriff. I sort of notice things like accents. I do sort of like accents like yours. Different than other guys around here.”

“Boston by way of London,” Killian answered. “And you, love? Always a resident of this seafaring town?”

“Most all my life,” she admitted, leaving out a few pit stops along the way. “Mom probably told you that the best place to take me for a dinner date is Granny’s. She loves it there, plus Granny will spy on us and give her updates every few minutes. I’m more into this Italian place near the docks. Awesome seafood and pasta. And their lasagna isn’t frozen. It’s more date like, I think. You know, checked table clothes, drippy candles, wine, and all that.”

“A classic romantic?” he asked, clearly amused.

“Well, I mean if we have to go out, it makes sense to go someplace like that.” She held out her hand and gestured to his phone. “I’ll give you my number in case mom hasn’t already. A date is a date, but might as well get a good meal out of it.”

“By all means,” he said, handing her the latest device on the market. She noted that he did everything with his right hand, his left staying next to his side and covered in a black glove. She was about to mention it when she heard her father’s voice and laughter.

“You’ve met our Emma,” David said, joining the duo at the table and placing one hand under Emma’s elbow. “Our daughter can be a bit blunt. I hope she hasn’t insulted you or made you change your mind.”

“Dad,” Emma said, swatting him playfully.

“She’s been absolutely brilliant,” Killian answered, shoving his phone in his pocket. “By the way, love, name’s Killian Jones. I don’t believe I properly introduced myself.”

David nodded knowingly. “Killian is here to work with your mother on her bid for the mayor’s office. He’s a wiz when it comes to all things in local politics. Very highly recommended.”

“Work for mom?” Emma asked weakly, trying to ignore the not quite so humble smile that played about Killian’s mouth. “You mean he’s not…”

“Of course, Regina is taking time off to plan her wedding and then get settled into married life. She recommended Killian to run your mom’s campaign since Archie is considering and Mal has already announced. Anyway, it is good you met. Killian’s going to need to talk to you about your role in promoting our family. Maybe you can meet up at Granny’s later this week.” David glanced around the room and gripped his daughter’s arm harder. “I wanted to introduce you to someone I met when I was buying supplies for the farm. His name is Walsh.”

Emma stammered a bit, her face turning pink as Killian continued to hold that smile that showed both bemusement and cockiness. “Walsh…”

“Go ahead, love,” Killian said. “We’ll finish our conversation at this Granny’s or perhaps you might like the atmosphere.”

Emma was sure that her face was bright red as his eyebrows lifted up and down in a way that made her wonder just what lascivious thoughts were rolling around in that head of his. She felt those blue eyes on her as her father made another excuse and led her over to the man in the green tie who was smiling nervously at her and oblivious to her discomfort and not so secret looks over at Killian Jones.

She nodded appropriately and even asked a few questions about Walsh and his furniture design business. Her own rental was outfitted with castoffs and hand me downs that had seemed comfortable and worn at the time. He was telling her why it was important to have pieces that spoke of her uniqueness and character. At least that was what she heard on the occasions she bothered to listen and didn’t internalize the flinches and groans as her parents introduced Killian Jones to every person in the room. She wasn’t pleased to see most of the single women giggling and flashing him flirtatious smiles that he easily returned. There was no need to be jealous, but still the emotion was creeping up her spine as she watched him actually kiss Ruby’s hand like something out of a novel.

“I could show you sometime,” Walsh interrupted. She jumped at being caught unaware and repeated the words back to him in hopes of making some sense of the situation. “My shop. I have some really beautiful pieces I think you would like.”

“Well, if I am ever in the market,” she said, realizing that he was holding out a business card with his personal number written on the back. “Have you met August and his father Marco. They do some of the most beautiful woodwork you have ever seen. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

“We were right about the monkey guy,” Ruby said defeatedly, kicking off her shoes and reclining on the bed in Emma’s childhood bedroom. The room didn’t quite do justice to the angsty teen she had been, but still boasted teen idol posters of boy bands and even the dollhouse brought by Santa one year. “But that other guy was cute and quite the charmer. Even I was about to hit on him. I had such high hopes for your mother.”

Emma flinched as she unclipped her hair and left it to fall around her shoulders in soft waves. “Yeah, so he’s not my set up of the year. Yet I asked him out, sort of. I don’t know. I made a fool out of myself.”

“He didn’t seem too offended,” Ruby suggested. “I mean I was distracted once Dorothy agreed to dance but every time I looked in his direction he was looking in yours. And I might add that was pretty often.”

“Right, he was probably trying to figure out what was wrong with me.” Emma was about to bemoan her embarrassed state a little more when her phone dinged out one and then another text message. She reached over to grab it and groaned with the realization. It was Killian. Ruby immediately wanted to know what he had to say and proceeded to inspect the picture he sent just in case Emma was confused if he was the guy in the green tie or not.

“Emma, you might have had a rough start, but he’s hot. And he’s clearly interested. Why else would he text?” Passing the phone back, she shrugged. “And let’s face it, you and commitment aren’t that strong of allies. He’s from out of town. Mary Margaret said he travels all over to do these little campaigns. I’m seeing excellent fling material.”

The text was taunting her, a coy comment about Italian restaurants and then a reminder of who he was with the picture. “I should answer him. I mean it would be rude not to answer, right?”

“Your mother would say not to be rude to anyone, but I’m telling you there is no reason to be rude to that guy.” Ruby reached over and grabbed a 10 year old magazine from the table, clearly bored with the conversation. “But I mean it is up to you. Text him. Don’t text him. Your choice.” Ruby flipped the pages casually, bringing up what dresses Regina was going to want them to wear at her wedding. She insisted that red wouldn’t be that garish at a Christmas event. It wasn’t until Emma refused to correct her that Ruby even looked over cautiously. “You haven’t texted him?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Ruby propped herself onto one elbow. “It’s written all over your face.”

Emma shoved the phone back in her bag and let her head loll against the mattress as she sat cross legged on the floor. She rarely was in this room now, but somehow it felt comfortable and almost nostalgic to discuss dating and boys with her friend just down the hall from her parents. At least she wasn’t practicing writing his name with hers or anything like that. “I don’t get crushes.”

“You’re much too tough for that.”

Emma wasn’t exactly wrong about her aversion to crushes. She was in her twenties and already sheriff of the small coastal town. She wore practical boots or sneakers more than heels and her long hair had not seen princess curls in months. This event at her parents was the first time she’d worn a dress except to church. “If I did, and I’m not saying I do, what difference does it make. I’m a grown woman, mother of a 10 year old, and I have a career. I’m hardly going to make cootie catchers and see if his name comes up after saying some horrible rhyme.”

Ruby nodded thoughtfully and went back to the magazine. “Not to mention horribly ugly and boring. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

“You are going to pay for that one, Ruby,” Emma laughed, tossing a pillow and joining in as Ruby cackled with laughter. They were both laughing so hard that Emma barely heard the familiar chirp of her phone ringing. Holding up a hand to silence her friend, she shushed her and reached for it. She only hoped she sounded less winded than she felt as she said her own name and waited for the response.

“I hope I didn’t call to late,” a male English accent sounded on the other end. Even without seeing him in person, she could already picture that bemused smirk and light in his eyes. “I meant to check back with you, love, but time got away from me and then you were gone.”

“Oh um…good…I mean great…I mean you didn’t call too late,” Emma gestured wildly at her friend who was making choking signs in response to her word vomit. “But why did you call?”

“Well, love, you did give me your number,” he reminded her. “I tried texting, but didn’t get a response. I thought perhaps you were screening, but I had to give it a shot. I was hoping you might have a bit of time for me tomorrow – breakfast perhaps? I know you said you preferred that little Italian place, but I have never known such an establishment to be open very early. Perhaps that Granny’s, you spoke of? We could save the Italian place for our dinner date. I have been craving some ravioli lately.”

“Date?” Emma stammered, ignoring the way that Ruby looked ready to pounce. “I…”

“You did sort of ask me out and I must say it was a masterful way to do so. I would love to accompany you for dinner, Emma. But first we have a bit of business to discuss about your mother’s campaign. Breakfast then? 8 a.m.? Granny’s?”

“I’ll be there,” she answered dully as he spoke politely for a moment about thanking her for her time.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

Emma’s father had not gotten the memo that she was going out for breakfast, as he was flipping pancakes onto a large plate as she descended the stairs, handed her son his permission slip for the field trip, and dodged the family’s collie that seemed to be underfoot. Her mother showed no signs of worry as she sipped her morning coffee and reminded Emma to wear a scarf and hat as she consoled her husband that there were not too many pancakes and Emma wouldn’t have eaten them all anyway.

She pulled her yellow bug up in front of the diner, taking the last of the spots at 8:05 a.m. That was early for her and not a big worry that she was late for meeting with Killian. That was until she walked in, kicked a bit of the snow off her boots (the black ones with a heel that were in her old closet and could not be described as practical – don’t judge), and spied Killian at one of the booths talking to Tink. The bubbly blonde was petite and perfect, a face and voice like a cherub in a painting. Every year she had the solo at the church choir’s Christmas Eve performance and every year people wiped away tears at her beautiful rendition. She didn’t look very angelic as she perched on the edge of her seat and leaned forward to talk animatedly with Killian. Her smile flashing at him and even an occasional stroke of his arm with her hand to emphasize a point. Even in the 90 seconds she had been standing there kicking her boots and unwinding the mile long scarf from her mother, she had watched the waitress stop by and lean across the table to give Killian quite the view down her shirt.

Ruby must have noticed too, as she left her spot behind the counter and fluffed Emma’s hair with an encouraging nod and a teasing note that Emma was wearing lip gloss. Spinning her with one hand on her shoulder, Ruby sort of nudged her in the direction of the booth with a hissed reminder to smile.

“Killian,” Emma said, ignoring the pout from Tink, whose real name was Isabella but didn’t want to be confused with the town librarian, Belle, “sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, love,” he said, scooting out to stand as she arrived. “I was going over a few notes for the kick off and Tink here was catching me up on some of the ideocracies that make small town politics so fun.”

Emma flashed a quick smile at her childhood friend, watching her slink out of the booth and tell Killian she was in the town directory if he wanted to call. He did not follow her with his eyes as she sashayed toward the door, nor did he smirk like Emma wanted to do when Ruby called after Tink to tell her that she still owed for her morning tea. It wasn’t that she disliked Tink, but there was that feeling that made her feel ill when she saw her flirting with Killian.

He gestured for her to sit down a simple glance toward the counter sent the waitress scrambling to bring them menus and take their orders. Or maybe it was just his order, as he had to call her back to get Emma’s. Despite his seemingly healthy eating style the night before, he matched her order of a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. Granny had even fancied it up with chocolate shavings.

His questions were easy at first, wanting to know about her childhood and then her job. While a few were personal, he did not seem to be prying. She even managed to ask him a few and he offered some answers of his own without objecting too loudly and then quickly getting them back on track. She learned of his naval experience that paid for his education and how he had become involved in the campaigns and politics of small cities and his love of the ocean and aged rum.

“So is your position as sheriff an elected one?” he asked, casually resting back in the vinyl seat across from her.

She was taking two sips to his one when she noticed the way he smiled as he watched her. Instinctively she raised her hand up to swipe at the whipped cream that might have gathered on her nose but found none. “What?” she asked in exasperation. “Did I make a mess?”

“No, I am simply enjoying watching you share your experiences as sheriff. Your passion for it shines on your face, love.”

She knew she was probably blushing and rolled her fork through the home fries as a distraction.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

For the next few days they saw each other often. There was the announcement of her mother’s candidacy where she helped place signage. She ran into him when she went to inspect a license of one of the vendors at the skating rink and ended up sharing a drink and conversation. While pondering which type of creamer to buy, he popped up out of no where and offered a suggestion. He was even there when the church choir had a rehearsal, claiming he was talking to some potential volunteers. He did apologize for that when the choir director called Emma out for missing two of her cues in a row because she was watching him, in the words of Regina, make doe eyes at her and silently flirt.

In the mean time, her mother had been talking up Walsh’s skills in design and potential as a date for Emma. There was now a gaping hole in the living room at the farm house where her mother was having him design a custom entertainment center. Her brother was already complaining that the television on the floor was not the greatest idea. Emma tried to explain Walsh wasn’t her type, but her mother wasn’t hearing it and was asking when she was seeing him again. Given that she had not saved his number and had mutually agreed with him that they weren’t really each other’s type it seemed unlikely. However, Mary Margaret was so cutely sure she had done well this year that Emma hadn’t the heart to tell her.

One morning over doughnuts at the station her mother read the speech Killian had written for her campaign and asked her daughter for feedback. Emma offered a few remarks as the woman adjusted the clutter on her father’s desk.

“I think he’s handsome,” her mother said at one point. “Kinda has that mysterious look to him.”

“Who?” Emma asked distractedly. “Dad?”

It was the pronoun game.

“No, I was talking about…” The phone ringing cut off what Emma was sure was a pep talk about Walsh. The conversation was left unfinished as Emma went to investigate the case of the missing trash can lids. Spoiler: some of the kids were using them for sledding.

It was a full two days later before she saw Killian again. Granted he had texted a few times and called her “by accident” when he claimed he had meant to call her mother to discuss strategy. He was humming a tune and scrolling through his tablet when she and her son, Henry, spotted him inside the library. Apparently, he had set up shop in the corner and had everything but a receptionist there to greet visitors. Her son, who had heard his name a few times from his grandparents, pointed him out in a totally obvious way that made Emma want to crawl under the table. Somehow she managed to take a few steps closer and do more than the wave she originally planned.

“Nice office,” she said of the table he had commandeered. “Quiet I guess.”

“It has it’s perks,” he offered. “I was heading over to talk to your father. He said he would be at the station this afternoon. I take it you are not?”

“Short break to get my son home before I go back to face the files on my desk.” She knew her son was already done checking out his three books and would be joining them any second. She only hoped he would not blurt out an inappropriate question. She was about to send up a silent prayer when she noted that the glove Killian normally wore on his left hand was off and a synthetic material prosthetic was in its place. Before she could say anything, he looked down at the hand as though surprised by it and shrugged.

“Naval accident, an accident.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” she said not sure what else to say about it. It was clearly an old injury and hardly one she had a blame in causing.

“Tis an old pain,” he told her. “Most days I don’t really think of it.”

She nodded, glancing at her son who was still in conversation with Belle. “Does that mean you are getting more comfortable with me?” She instantly regretted saying that, as it came off a little weak.

“You do seem to put me at ease, love.” He winked at her and leaned a little to the left as her son ran up beside her. “You, lad, must be Henry. Your grandparents tell me you are quite the author.”

Henry nodded enthusiastically and continued the conversation for a few more beats, nearly forgetting his mother was there. Even a comment from another patron, Will, that Killian was clearly trying to get to the mother through the son, went unnoticed by all but Emma who stood taller and tried to let it slide. Killian was quite the conversationalist, observantly noting that Henry was holding a book on piracy along the New England states. That really got them going until Emma reminded Henry that she needed to drop him off at home to meet the tutor and get back to work.

That was how she ended up with Killian sitting in her living room and then the two of them walking side by side back to the station to interview her father. He opened doors for her, asked her less probing questions, and complimented the way she handled one of the boys known for getting into trouble with a stern look and warning. She was starting to feel natural about it all when he stopped short at the wreath decorated double doors and scratched behind his ear.

“I was wondering, love,” he said, shifting his eyes to the door and back to her again. “Rather I was hoping you might…well, bloody hell, I was hoping to ask you on that date. I gather you weren’t aware of who I was or why I was here when you sort of asked me.”

“I thought you were the guy my parents set me up with this year. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

He smiled nervously, his lips tight and his eyes again darting to the doors. She realized he was looking to see if her father was lurking. “It was rather adorable actually and I was thinking…”

She closed her eyes as he searched for the words, something she was sure he rarely did in his life. He always seemed to know the perfect thing to say and the perfect way to say it. “Killian, you don’t have to…”

“And if I want to?”

“Then maybe we could meet up tomorrow evening? Or wait no…tomorrow is the winter carnival for the kids at the orphanage and I am hosting the movie portion. Maybe Thursday…no Henry’s got his soccer game. I would say Friday but I’ve got choir practice and Saturday is mom’s campaign rally.” She truly looked sorry about her schedule as she shifted from one foot to the other.

“Busy lass,” he muttered. “I suppose we’ll have to consider another time. Or by chance are you free this evening?”

Biting down on her lip, she closed her eyes briefly. “I want to say yes, but my father is in there and I’d rather not mention this to him. And given that my son is likely to either eat potato chips and chocolate milk for dinner, stay up past bedtime for video games or inappropriate movies, or worst yet burn the place down in an attempt to see what he can melt in the oven, I’m thinking I need a back up babysitting plan that doesn’t include my parents.”

“Rather not hear the I told you so? Or are you hoping to keep me your little secret?”

“My parents are a little on the enthusiastic side when it comes to my love life.” She tilted her head back for a moment and then made eye contact again. “I have a plan, but you have to swear to me that we won’t be going to Granny’s or any place else they would be spotted.”

He assured her that paper napkins weren’t on the menu. “I have no issue with being circumspect, love. Trust me, I can plan an evening for us.”

If she didn’t trust him, she didn’t show it as he ushered her inside and greeted David. His cheeks were a little red from the cold and she knew hers were too. However, David never seemed to notice their conversation outside. She saw him pulling out his notes when she spoke up and asked David if Henry could perhaps have dinner with them. She managed to ask nonchalantly, simply a scheduling glitch.

“Any particular reason,” David asked, barely hiding his smile.

“I’m going out,” she answered vaguely, crossing her denim clad legs and pulling a stack of files into her lap. “Did you see Leroy’s file? I need to check about his court date.”

“Haven’t seen it. Anyone I know?” He was trying to watch her in the reflection of his computer screen, sneaking a few knowing looks at Killian who was flipping casually through his notebook.

“Oh you know,” she said, pausing to look at a document, “that guy from your party.” She didn’t want to lie to her dad, but she could tell he was not going to let up. It was one thing to have her father believe it was Walsh but another to flat out tell him that.

Killian seemed to understand, interrupting the awkwardness with a cheeky smile. “Since Emma appears to be on a deadline and you’ll be entertaining the lad this evening, it sounds like we need to get through these questions to prepare your wife’s talking points. Let’s start with the most obvious. You have a role that is second in command here at the station and in the community. How does that work with you effectively reporting to your own daughter?”

Emma let out a little sigh and as her father droned on about how proud he was of her, she shot Killian a grateful look. Her father seemed to take pride in both his work and how well she did her job, showing him pictures of celebrations after tough cases were solved and the commendations she had gotten from the governor. Most grown children worry that they aren’t successful enough or are somehow a disappointment to their parents. Emma didn’t have that worry when David Nolan talked about her.

He was still talking about how well Emma had worked with Regina who was stepping down to concentrate on her new life when Emma slipped out to change. Neither he nor Killian seemed to notice that she almost spoke up twice to tell Killian that maybe tonight wasn’t the best timing. Then she reminded herself of Ruby’s advice. He was a nice and more than good looking man. He didn’t even live here. So what if she went out with him. It was just fun.

She repeated that to herself as she went to her car to head home and change. That is until the realization hit that she didn’t really have anything to wear. A trip to one clothing store in town would rouse suspicion and the tailor was a friend of her mother’s. There was only one place to go.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

“No leather, no spiked heels, no red, no plunging necklines, and I would preferably like to sit down without flashing everyone in town,” Emma said as Ruby dove into the bowels of her closet up above Granny’s. The woman had squealed, hugged Emma, and asked if certain parts had been shaved or waxed. Emma assured her that was not an issue and that she just needed something that didn’t have the capacity for her shoulder or hip holster. Ruby had of course said she had just the thing.

With no sign of her wardrobe addition, Emma looked at her phone and two unread texts.

Killian: Your father is in search of your old scouting badges. I feel like we should have code words. Perhaps not. Meet me at the docks at 7?

She answered quickly, not wanting Ruby to interfere with the response that would probably be inappropriate. A quick see you then and an internally debated smiley emoji would have to suffice. The next message was from her mother.

Mom: David says you have a date. Very exciting. When you come by to pick Henry up, I want to hear all about it. I’ll wait up.

Her mother was going to be an issue. She loved the eternal optimist that was her mother, a woman who had more than her fair share of darkness, including losing two parents early in life, but rose above it to see the good in people. Wasn’t that what Emma was doing. She was seeing the good in Killian despite the voices inside that said this was a bad idea. Well, she could rationalize it that way. Her mother truly wanted a happily ever after for her daughter, something even  Emma couldn’t disagree with in scheme of things. The fact that her mother even believed in such things was pretty amazing.

Ruby emerged with a black dress that looked more like a set of random strips all stitched together. Beneath it was a red dress that flared out and looked more appropriate for dancing. And beneath that was a soft mauve frock with a full skirt and wrapped bodice. She knew that was the one she wanted to wear, but knowing Ruby she had to at least try the others. Half an hour later she was wearing the lighter colored dress, matching nude heels, and her hair was what her friend called casually curled.

She was standing with her arms crossed for warmth at the docks at 7:01 when Killian emerged from one of the sailboats with a single red rose in his hands. “Apparently,” he said, steadily walking the gang plank despite the swell of the waves that had her not quite sure if she was standing still or not, “it is nearly impossible to procure just a rose this time of year. You almost ended up with a pot of poinsettias.”

“It’s beautiful,” she remarked. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

He assured her that it was no trouble and that she was beautiful herself. Below deck he had a small table set with real dishes and flatware, a bottle of wine and containers of pastas and sauces from the Italian restaurant she had mentioned. The only thing, he mused, was that he could not do the candles since such items were not really safe on a boat.

“Confession time,” he said, clinking his glass with hers. “I borrowed the boat. I don’t have one here in Storybrooke.”

“I knew that,” she admitted. “It’s my uncle Leroy’s boat.”

“Short man, scruffy looking, kind of grumpy?”

“Always grumpy, yes. It’s nice of you though. Not too many prying eyes.”

He took a sip and pondered that for a moment. “I take it that you would prefer to keep things clandestine just in case. I am also guessing that you gave the information to your friend Ruby just in case I turn out to be a murderer.”

“I can take care of myself.” She squared her shoulders off.

“Aye, I believe you can, love.”

The rest of the meal passed with pleasant conversation and only a few awkward pauses that were usually filled before it got to be too much. Killian had even brought along a set of speakers to stream music allowing them to dance. It was a tough that even Emma thought was sweet as his arms were around her in a way that she admitted fit. She wasn’t sure how much life was left in his phone or when the clouds that had been building all day would open up with snow, but time seemed to stand still as they swayed. Her eyes closed and her head resting against his right shoulder. He lifted their entwined hands and softly kissed hers. She was glad her eyes were closed and her head nestled against his chest.

She could feel his breathing change and his hold feeling tense. Her name came out as a whisper from him. She lifted her head and found his eyes searching hers. “Emma? I would very much like to kiss you.”

“I’m not sure you can handle that,” she teased in just as soft of a voice. Yet she closed the space between them and let him close the rest. Their lips touching softly at first and then with more passion. Her hands gripped at his shirt, pulling him toward her and his hand hovered at her hair before threading through it with a sort of awe she had never experienced.

They might have stayed like that for a while had the siren of her dad’s cruiser not shattered the cold and quiet night. Maybe they should have stayed below deck, ignored her father’s presence on the docks. However, that plan faded as his footsteps grew closer and she knew, just knew that someone had spotted them on Leroy’s boat and reported it. Resigned to the fate that her father was about to find out who her date was with and probably have an opinion about it, she took a step back and turned to climb up into the cold. While he said nothing, Killian placed his own jacket, a worn leather one, over her shoulders. It was a gentlemanly gesture and one that shouldn’t surprise her.

“Dad?” she asked, holding one hand over her eyes to shield it from the giant flakes falling silently from the sky. “Did something…”

Her father looked startled and even a little embarrassed to see her there. His breathing was normalizing when Killian emerged too, which sent his eyes wide and his gasp of surprise sharpening. “I didn’t realize…”

“Everything okay, mate?” Killian asked. His dark colored shirt and black vest offered little warmth against the plummeting temperatures. However, he did not indicate it by shivering or otherwise complaining.

“Sure…I mean I was just answering a call about someone attempting to break in cars when I saw Emma’s bug. Someone said they thought they saw the suspect run this way and…”

Emma gave her father a nod, taking a deep breath to switch back into her role as sheriff. “Any description?”

Her father’s eyes drifted to where Killian’s hand was covering hers and giving it a slight squeeze of reassurance. They narrowed and his voice faltered as he answered, “light colored hair, red sweatshirt, about 5’9”, thin.”

“Sounds like a juvenile,” Emma assessed. “I’m assuming we don’t have any camera visuals. Last time we investigated over here the cameras were malfunctioning and I haven’t noticed…”

“Emma,” her father said, his boots shuffling a little on the worn planks of the dock that were beginning to be covered in snow. “You don’t have to…I mean…You’re on a date…I guess you are.”

“Well, yeah,” she said, glancing at Killian who seemed to be enjoying the moment. Suddenly she felt the urge to clear up the misconceptions she had caused. “I didn’t mean to…” She cleared her throat. “I know you probably thought I meant I was seeing that Walsh guy.”

“Your mother’s buying an entertainment center from him,” David answered with confusion. “It’s not my business who…but where is Walsh?” He did manage to lower the flashlight and seem less ominous there on the docks, but still had his hand on his hip and was rocking backwards as he waited for explanations.

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t exactly seen him since the party.” Emma glanced at Killian who was standing closer to her than she realized. That wasn’t exactly unpleasant as a prospect. “Killian and I…”

“You and Killian,” he father parroted with the confusion that it hadn’t dawned on him. “You and Killian what?”

Killian gave her hand another squeeze and took a step forward as though offering himself as tribute. “Aye, mate. I do fancy your daughter and she and I have been spending time together.”

Blinking back at them, David appeared to running through the occasions he had seen them together and attempting to digest this information. “So the conversation about intentions toward Emma should be delivered to you and not Walsh?” It was too dark to know for sure, but Emma thought he looked a little disappointed.

She reminded him that there was a potential thief on the loose and he assured her he had it under control and to go back to her date. Killian just sort of shrugged and offered his analysis that it wasn’t that much of a secret after all. They talked a bit longer, took a slow walk toward her car, and both hopped in with him saying he would walk to Granny’s after she was safely at her parents with her son.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, speeding up the wipers against the snow. “I can drop you off. No need for you to freeze.”

He looked toward her in the dark car and gave her a soft smile. “Your father is bound to have told your mother about our date, love. I know you had hoped to keep it secret. I only wanted to offer my services should you want them to fend off her disappointment and concern.” He jumped when she placed her hand over his prosthetic.

“I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. I guess I just don’t want to disappoint them with another failed attempt at matchmaking. My mother has to be ready to give up by now.”

“Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully, “she might have to give up anyway. If we were to date, surely she would not attempt to replace me each year.” Her hand jerked away fast, something he noticed. “I hoped you might want…”

She sighed, turning her car off the coastal road to the one that led toward town. “Killian, I am the one who originally asked you out. Even if that was a misunderstanding. I had fun. I enjoy spending time with you. But…”

“But?”

“But we live in two different cities. The special election is going to be over next month. What kind of relationship can we have when you’ll be off on your next job and I’ll still be here? I’m not 18 and free to wander around after you. I have a job, parents, a son, and responsibilities.”

“We could…”

“Killian, I like you. I like spending time with you, but I’m not interested in starting a go no where or long distance relationship. I want more than a pen pal. Think about it. You do too.” The driveway of the farmhouse was coming into sight and then disappeared as she passed it. “I’ll take you back to Granny’s. No sense in talking to my mother about this. We’ll just say it was a one time thing.”

“As you wish.” His voice was quiet, deep, and almost wistful.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

As the holidays grew nearer, Emma’s parents and Killian went into campaign overdrive. There were photoshoots of the whole family on the farm. Her mother even managed to sneak in a few candid shots of Emma and Killian. Speaking of Mary Margaret, she was only mildly disappointed at Emma’s secret that she was not seeing Walsh. That was quickly erased as she said she had considered setting her daughter up with Killian, but was quickly dissuaded when her internal voice said her daughter would object. Nobody corrected her on it.

For his part, Killian worked hard and would try to sneak in time with Emma. They shared a few lunches, walked around the farm discussing a few strategies, and shopped together for a present for her parents. He sat with them on Christmas Eve when Emma performed with the choir for mass, looking just as in awe and proud as her parents did. He even joined them for the evening meal on Christmas, leaving behind a gift for Emma rather than making a big deal of her opening it in front of everyone.

As the wreathes were removed and the snow seemed not as white, the election day finally drew close and Killian was even more of a fixture. He was constantly showing up with a new tactic and shoving his client in front of cameras to announce a proposed initiative. Everything from illiteracy to hunger would be addressed by Mary Margaret Nolan for mayor. When election day arrived, more than 60% of the voters chose her and he beamed proudly from the sidelines. Most people noticed the hug shared between Emma and Killian, but it seemed to be just part of the celebration. It went so long into the night that nobody really saw the two of them saying goodbye the next morning.

“I wish it was different,” she admitted, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps someday, love. After all, nothing stays the same.”

She watched as the Uber driver loaded his bags and Killian reluctantly slid into the backseat. Their eyes were locked and the unsaid words hung in the air. She wasn’t sure she even breathed again until she was pulling up in front of her parents’ house. Her father was flipping pancakes, but her mother was at the doorway even as she dragged up the steps of the front porch.

“I like him,” her mother said. “He’s a good man.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, accepting the hug and hurrying in before the next gust of wind. “I just…I don’t want this every time we see each other. I don’t want to miss him and have the constant feel like a clock is counting down the hours.”

“I know, Emma. And that is very practical, but if you…”

Emma didn’t wait for her mom to finish the statement before greeting her father and asking about setting the table. It wouldn’t be the last time that her mother brought him up. She would over the next few months, mentioning seeing him at some event or another. Emma never asked, but her mother would always update her on his well being. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t know. He still called. He texted. When he was in the area he would invite her to dinner or to an event. She occasionally went but always told herself it was just casual. He never tried to kiss her again and she never sat herself too close to him, despite Ruby’s advice to do so.

A book he had mentioned to her once said of the protagonist and her lover turned best friend, “they would continue to call and write until eventually they were just acquaintances and no longer a real part of each other’s lives.” That’s what Emma resigned herself to when he didn’t answer her text or voicemail inviting him to her parents’ annual party. He’d been pretty scarce for the past few weeks. Their conversations short and usually interrupted by something or someone. She once even heard a female voice in the background and wondered if he was seeing someone. That idea hurt more than she wanted to admit.

She wore red to her parents’ party, her hair hanging loose and the smile on her face tense and unyielding. She was sipping on champagne and watching as Regina and Robin twirled around the room still in bliss nearly a year after their wedding. Walsh was there too, dancing with Zelena and inking a new design deal with Marco. Neal had brought Tink as his date, which made Emma roll her eyes. And her parents were at their prime greeting and hugging all of those in attendance.

“Emma,” her mother called out when a few more guests were greeted. “Come here. I want you to say hello to someone.”

Ruby gave her a sympathetic look as Emma begrudgingly dragged her feet over to where her parents were standing. And there he stood, Killian in a freshly pressed suit with a wide smile on his face as she approached. Her mother was giddy as she mockingly introduced them. “Emma, you remember my old campaign manager, Killian, right? Well, he was in town getting settled because his new job at the governor’s office starts next month. I was thinking that he might be just the kind of guy you’d like to get to know.”

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 11

In which Gold and Lacey’s loved ones try to reason with them

[AO3]

x

Gold watched as Lacey scuttled across the diner behind Miss Lucas, very pointedly not looking at him. Neal glanced at him, then turned, following his line of sight.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “It’s your neighbour. Least we know she has clothes, I guess.”

“That was her?” Emma craned her neck, staring as Lacey disappeared through the door. “Holy crap! Go, Pops!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Gold repressively. “And certainly not with Miss French.”

Emma shrugged, turning back and slipping out of her jacket.

“Just saying, she’s very pretty.”

“And as I’ve already mentioned,” said Gold patiently, “she detests me.”

“You don’t know that!” 

“She left the diner as soon as I came in,” he said. “That seems pretty clear-cut to me.”

“Poor thing’s probably just embarrassed,” said Neal.

“Yes, anyone prepared to get naked in someone else’s house is clearly a shrinking violet,” remarked Gold, in a very dry tone.

“She was prepared to get naked in front of you,” said Emma. “She wasn’t prepared for someone else being the audience. It would be like me thinking Neal was in the kitchen and doing my sexy dance, and it turns out to be you. Pretty sure I’d go to bed for a week.”

Gold closed his eyes.

“I - really didn’t need to hear about the sexy dance…”

“Embarrassing, right?” said Neal. “Imagine how she feels.”

“Well, maybe it’ll teach her not to flash people,” said Gold. “I have no sympathy. She was probably trying to embarrass me, anyway.”

“Fine,” sighed Emma. “I’m falling back on my ‘you’re both as bad at flirting as each other’ idea. Why don’t you just ask her out, save the poor girl any more humiliation.”

“Ask her out?” Gold stared at her incredulously. “She’s a bloody disaster! And I very much doubt I’m her type.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He flapped a hand at the door that Lacey had just hurried through. “Look at her! And - and look at me!”

“You’re both short and stupid,” said Neal. “Match made in heaven.”

“I thought you two weren’t going to tease me about this,” snapped Gold, as Emma laughed.

“I see you’re not denying the fact that she’s hot,” she said. “How do you know what her type is, anyway?”

“I don’t,” he said shortly. “I just know it isn’t me.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Can we just order dinner?” snapped Gold, snatching up the menu. “I have no desire to spend the evening in a futile discussion about Miss French, thank you.”

“Whatever you say,” said Emma, winking at him. “But you know what I’m like after a couple of drinks, so you’d better brace yourself for some questions later on.”

“What can I say?” Neal shrugged as Gold shot him an exasperated look. “I married an investigator. You’re screwed.”

x

Lacey slumped in a chair at The Rabbit Hole, shrugging out of her jacket and draping it over her bag beneath her feet. She watched Ruby weave her way back from the bar, a drink in each hand.

“Here you go.” Ruby put down the glasses, and took the seat across from her. “Let’s see if we can beat last night’s total. It’s not often I get Friday and Saturday off, so I plan on getting wasted.”

“My usual weekend,” remarked Lacey, and Ruby chuckled. 

“Granny’ll probably wake me up at six tomorrow morning on purpose,” she said. “Apparently the best hangover cure is deep cleaning the grills. According to her.”

Lacey shuddered, taking a drink.

“Think I’ll limit my morning activity to yoga and coffee drinking,” she said. “I have to recover by Monday, I have a breakfast interview with that West woman.”

“Zelena?” Ruby’s mouth twisted in amusement. “You’re interviewing her?”

“Sidney’s idea,” said Lacey. “Something about her charity dance thing. I’m hoping she doesn’t remember that I told her to go screw herself when she cut in line at the Dark Star.”

“Well, she certainly likes her fundraisers,” remarked Ruby. “Maybe focus on that.”

“What can you tell me about her?” asked Lacey, and Ruby shrugged.

“Not much. She moved up here from New York a few years ago. There was some sort of rumour going around that she was hiding from something, but I don’t know if there’s any truth in that. She’s kind of - intense. I get the feeling she doesn’t like the Mayor.”

“Why not?”

“No idea. Just caught her giving Regina the stink-eye a few times.”

“Okay.” Lacey hesitated, stirring her drink again. “Sidney said she flirts with Mr Gold.”

“Oh!” Ruby cackled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Boy, does she ever. It’s embarrassing! He used to come in the diner for coffee at seven-thirty each morning, and I’m almost positive the reason he’s moved to eight-thirty is because she kept fawning over him.”

“Ugh.” Lacey shuddered. “So I guess the feeling isn’t mutual.”

“No, but she’s not taking the hint,” said Ruby, still grinning.

Lacey took another drink, enjoying the smooth heat of rum on her tongue, and Ruby rolled her shoulders with a contented sigh, glancing towards the bar.

“Pretty quiet for a Saturday, huh?”

“You mean we managed to get a table?” Lacey looked around. “Guess it’s early. Hadn’t planned to leave Granny’s so quickly.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Ruby stirred her drink with a straw. “I get you being embarrassed about the whole kitchen nakedness thing, but Neal isn’t a jerk. Or a creep. He wouldn’t have said anything to you.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about,” muttered Lacey, stabbing at the ice cubes in her drink.

“You’re still worried about Gold?” Ruby shook her head. “I told you, just act like nothing happened. He’ll be fine.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“Why do you even care?” asked Ruby. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who gets hung up over stupid mistakes. If you were you wouldn’t come out drinking with me.”

“I don’t know!” said Lacey, feeling frustrated. “I’ve done stuff that’s way worse. I once streaked the length of the football field for a dare. In the middle of the last game of the season. The number of people that have seen me naked is actually pretty high.”

“Well, there you go.” Ruby gestured at her. “So why the hang-up over what Gold thinks?”

“I told you, I don’t know!”

Ruby sat back in her chair, brows lowering a little before shooting upwards as she leaned forwards, mouth open.

“Oh my God!” she whispered. “You like him!”

“What?” Lacey stared at her incredulously. “I do not!”

“Oh you so do!” Ruby’s expression was half delight, half disbelief. “This is amazing! You totally have the hots for Mr Gold!”

“Would you shut up?” Lacey snapped, glancing around anxiously to see if any of the Rabbit Hole regulars had overheard. “I don’t have the hots for the guy! I don’t know anything about him, except that he’s really comfortable with getting his cock out.”

“That’s not a bad thing…”

“Ruby!”

“Okay, fine!” Ruby rolled her eyes. “I won’t say anything else about it.”

“Good.”

“Guess you’re in denial. I can wait.”

“Ruby!”

“Okay, okay!”

Ruby picked up her glass, grinning at Lacey over the rim.

“Any bright ideas about that interview you want to do with him?”

“No,” said Lacey grumpily. “If you can think of any, now’s the time to tell me.”

“You could always do it over a nice romantic dinner…”

“Oh my God…”

Lacey slumped back in her chair as Ruby giggled, snatching up her drink and taking a gulp.

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing,” said Ruby, taking a sip of her own. “How about this? Send Darcy over with an invite. Since he’s so adept at breaking into Gold’s house.”

Lacey had to chuckle at that.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where he’s been eating,” she admitted. “If so, at least I know Gold likes cats.”

“And you’re interested in this little piece of trivia why, exactly?” enquired Ruby, raising a brow.

Lacey opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“I am not interested in him,” she said flatly. “And - and even if I was it wouldn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because he hates me, that’s why.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do!” she insisted. “He threw a bloody drink over me!”

“You threw one over him!”

“Yeah, but there were reasons!” said Lacey. “And - and besides, we have nothing in common!”

“You’re both blind idiots,” said Ruby bluntly. “Match made in heaven.”

Lacey sighed in exasperation, and drained her glass.

“Right, I’m getting another round,” she said. “The sooner we’re too drunk to even mention Gold’s name, the better.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

With Dustin in the lead, we found ourselves stopped atop a hill, at what I assume is a scrapyard. Old vehicles like abandoned cars and buses scattered around the area.

Dustin came to a stop and looked around.

"Oh, no." He muttered.

"'Oh, no'? What's, 'Oh, no'?" Lucas asked in a panicked tone.

Dustin turned around to look at us.

"We're headed back home."

"What?" Even Mike seemed to be frustrated.

"Dustin, are you sure?" I ask, irritation and exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun, right there." He pointed past us in the direction of the sky. "We looped right back around."

I sighed, shifting on my feet as I run a hand down my face.

"And you're just realizing this now?" Lucas snapped.

"Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

"What do yours say?"

We all checked our compasses, mine was wobbly but nevertheless, pointing North.

Lucas, Mike and I all spoke at once.

"North."

We all sighed, and Dustin began slowly pacing, looking off into the distance deep in thought.

"Makes no damn sense."

"Maybe the gate moved," Mike offered.

"No, I don't think it's the gate." Dustin began looking all around us. "I think it's something else screwing with the compasses."

"Maybe it's something here?"

As Mike spoke, I didn't fail to notice the look that crossed Lucas's face as he slowly turned to face El.

"No, it has to be like a super magnet." Dustin replied.

Lucas rose his hand and began pointing at El accusingly. "It's not a magnet. She's been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

El stood rooted in place, a look of guilt and fear in her eyes.

"Why would she do that?" Mike snapped.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, it was the only logical explanation we had. It could be all too easy for her to screw with our compasses after what she showed herself capable of.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the conclusions my brain wanted to jump to.

"Lucas, come on. Think about what you're saying. Why would-" I rested a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder to try and calm him down, only for him to rip his arm from my touch.

"Enough, Y/n! I'm so sick of you defending her! You of all people should be more worried for Will."

"I am!" I snapped, feeling the anger, fear and confusion of all I've been carrying the past few days shoot up to the surface unexpectedly.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "Just... Please. Hear her out."

Lucas never met my eye and only stomped towards the poor girl intimidatingly.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, following behind Lucas worriedly.

"You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate. You don't want us to find Will." Lucas was in her face by now, and it as if the poor girl was on the verge of tears.

Dustin and I were toe in toe with the others and I walked up to Lucas, ready in case he decided to something rash.

Mike seemed to have the same idea.

"Lucas, come on, seriously, just leave her alone!"

"Admit it." Lucas spit.

"No." El muttered.

"Admit it!" We all jumped when Lucas began screaming.

He grabbed her right arm and examined her sleeve. There was a streak of shiny dark crimson on her sleeve.

Lucas swatted away her arm in disgust and frustration at the sight.

"Fresh blood. I knew it."

Dustin and I watched speechless as the boys began fighting.

"Lucas, come on!"

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Bull! That's old blood. Right, El?"

We all whipped our heads to El, waiting for her response.

At this point, she was fighting back tears, and her breath hitched.

"Right, El?" Mike asked again, less confident.

She began sobbing as she choked out her words.

"It's... not... it's not safe."

My stomach plunged as Dustin and I shared a look of worry and shock.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

Lucas and Mike seemed to be having it out now and they wouldn't stop despite the many protests from either Dustin or I. My body seemed to have shut down, staring helplessly as my two best friends fight, at a complete loss for words from shock and knowing my words will make no difference.

"That's not true. She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will? Find Will? Where is he, then? Huh? I don't see him."

"Yeah, you know what I mean,"

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike. She could have just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens."

With every word my body was feeling more and more on edge, my anxiety set in as I felt uncomfortable in my own skin at my friend's tearing each other apart. I started shifting back and forth, my hands rubbing the back of my neck.

Either Dustin noticed this, or he was sick of the fighting as well - or both for that matter - he stomped towards the boys and intervened.

"All right, calm down!"

"No! She used us, all of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants. Food and a bed. She's like a stray dog."

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No! Screw you, Mike. You're blind... blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she's just letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Shut up!"

"For all we know, it's her fault."

"Shut up."

"We're looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

'I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that El is the monster. I don't want my best friend to be missing, I don't want my friends to fight all the time. But at the same time, I can't afford to dismiss the possibility that maybe Lucas had a point. Not about her being a monster. No, that I refuse to believe, but her having something to do with everything that's been going on.'

What came next was a blur.

Mike couldn't take it anymore and lunged at Lucas, the boys toppled to the ground and began wrestling in the dirt. Dustin, El and I screaming at the top of our lungs for them to stop.

I looked to Dustin and El and back at the fighting boys. I ran to them attempting to pry Lucas off of Mike in a panic, knowing there was a big chance I'd get hit. But I didn't care and I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"Enough! Please, stop! Just-"

I closed my eyes as I saw the blur of Lucas's hand strike me accidentally as he swung his arm back, ready to punch Mike. I felt the back of his fist collide with my nose and I fell back with a painful yelp.

I heard a shrill shriek and opened my eyes in time to see Lucas fly backward in the air about five feet and slide into an abandoned car door, lying unconscious.

I looked to Lucas in horror and ran to him, not caring about my gushing nose.

I dive in front of Lucas, trying to shake him awake.

The boys were right behind me.

"Lucas! Lucas, wake up! Lucas."

Nothing. I checked his head for injuries, my hand never leaving him as I look over my shoulder at El, horrified.

"What did you do?"

El stood rooted to the ground, sobs wracking her body as blood dripped down her nose. I could tell the guilty look in her eyes was genuine but I didn't have time to feel bad for her right now.

Lucas was my main priority. I turned my attention back to my friend.

Dustin and Mike were just as panicked as I was.

"Come on, wake up. Come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Come on, man. Lucas?" Mike muttered worriedly.

"Lucas? Lucas, come on!" I sniffled, weakly shaking him.

To my tremendous relief, Lucas slowly came to with a groan and his eyes fluttered open.

The three of us chuckled and laughed in relief. The weight in my lungs and heart were lifted at the sight

"Lucas." Mike let out in a shaky breath.

Lucas slowly sat up and blinked a few times, processing what just happened.

"Lucas, you okay?" Mike asked.

There was no response from our friend.

Dustin spoke up shakily as he held up three fingers.

"Lucas... Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up? Lucas, how many fingers?"

Mike began reaching forward towards Lucas's head, already one step ahead of me.

"Let me see your head." He offered gently, he was cut short went Lucas angrily shoved Mike's hand away.

"Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling to stand up.

"Lucas, come on, you could be hurt. Let us help." I try, my voice soft reaching for his shoulder.

He pushed my arm away in anger as he stood up, storming past me.

"I said, get off of me!" I detected a hint of fear in his voice this time and less anger, making me more sympathetic than angry at him.

Mike began to chase after him but Dustin and I seem to have the same thought as we both caught each of his arms

"Let him go."

I watched sorrowfully as my friend left without us.

"Man, let him go."

We all shared a somber silence when suddenly Mike spoke up.

"Where is El?"

I looked to where she had been standing previously only to find no one else in sight.

Mike's breathing increased and he began shouting for her.

"El! El!"

"Eleven!" Dustin had joined in.

I stood frozen, my voice failing me. I looked around me as hopelessness sunk in and solidified into guilt. The icy wind whipped my collar as the desperate voices of my friends was lost to the wind.

She was gone.

[hargrove-mayfields]

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 5

Pt. 1   Pt. 2    Pt. 3    Pt. 4  

Benny’s is nothing special, Max thinks as they pull up into the mostly empty parking lot, which is nothing but a slab of concrete without any lines painted on it.

From the outside, it looks like a dingy old diner with about the same charm as the middle school cafeteria. On the inside, well, it’s just a dingy old diner with the same charm as a school cafeteria, with its greasy tiled floors and stained up old walls painted a sickening baby blue.

It’s about as full as you’d expect a place like that to be on Christmas Day, as in, other than a handful of elderly customers on the stools at the counter, they are completely alone.

They sit down at a cracking booth by the window, which Max notes was probably last cleaned before she was even born, and an older woman approaches them with a menu.

Steve must know her, chats up a storm about the daily special and school, about life in general and the old owner of the place before ordering for the both of them, and all the while Max just sits back and watches.

Even after the waitress comes back with a pot of coffee, and the two slices of pie Steve promised, she stays leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, watching.

There’s a tension burning under her skin, and she wants nothing to do with the pleasantries. If they were here to talk, then talk they would.

Steve goes to say something between bites of sugar cream pie, an Indiana specialty apparently, but Max cuts him off, her tone harsh. “Why did you bring me here?”

He looks confused, looking up as her with a stupid look on his face. “We’re avoiding the Christmas party?”

“Oh, sure, so you’re totally not trying to lay your claim now that my brother’s not here to stop you, right?” That might’ve been a little mean, but she doesn’t really know what to think right now.

He takes her to a remote location on the very edge of town when she’s supposed to be with a crowd of people because, what did he say, he didn’t want her to deal with them right now? She thinks she has the right to be concerned.

“I-No, I’m not.” Steve sits up straight in his seat. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

She nods over-exaggeratedly. “Is that before or after you make your move?”

There’s a certain pleading tone in his voice, one that obviously means he doesn’t want Max to think poorly of him, as he says, “Max, really I’m not trying to be a weirdo, I just figured you’d want to talk about Billy.”

She would be lying if she said hearing his name doesn’t take the air right out of her lungs. If just for a moment, she’s frozen.

Because nobody actually says Billy’s name anymore, just things like ‘your step brother’ or ‘Neil’s boy’. Sometimes Hargrove, and maybe even William once or twice, but never Billy.

It takes some effort for her to muster up the will to keep arguing after that, but Max has a retort at the ready, once she evens her breaths and moves past the initial shock. “What’s there to talk about? Everyone’s already forgotten about him anyways.”

“I haven’t.” Steve looks her dead in the eye, the most serious she’s ever seen him outside of a life threatening situation. “Don’t think I ever will.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, well, negative sentiments don’t count for much either.”

Everyone knows things were a little rocky between Billy and Steve, so she’s expecting him to rub it in her face that her brother was a bad person who beat people up for fun, or whatever the general opinion of those who didn’t know him was.

But Steve shocks her again by saying, “I never said that.”

And it's so beyond frustrating, talking in circles with Steve, that Max decides to cut her losses. Bites her tongue and sinks further back in the pleather booth, casting her eyes down to show him that she’s done with this.

If she would’ve known he’d be this annoying, she would’ve just made him take her to the Wheeler’s and leave her alone for the rest of her life.

But he doesn’t get the message, though shes not sure if he’s even smart enough to, because he keeps talking. “Me and Billy, we didn’t- we were friends, in the end.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it from me, but we all, you know, like, feel pretty shitty after a, um, a personal loss like this.” The words come out slow as he tries to think of the best thing to say, and it’s her instinct to cut him off, but Max listens.

“E-Especially when it’s someone we care about so much.” There’s a focused sort of look on his face, like he’s trying to get Max to understand that there’s some reason behind what all he’s saying. “Just, what I’m trying to get at is that, I think I understand that in a way probably no one else in your life does.”

That sentence is what finally makes it click into place for Max, the reason why Steve won’t just get on with it and say what he means, the reason she’s even here in the first place.

Because Steve lost Billy too.

She realizes that they must have had a thing. The kind that was kept secret, unknown by anyone but maybe a select few for their safety. A thing not much at all unlike what she and Lucas have.

Of course she knew about Billy, about the ex-boyfriends in Cali and the fake girlfriend he acquired last spring around the same time a paternal rage-induced scar appeared in his eyebrow, but she never would’ve guessed that he he had someone, and especially not for that someone to be Steve Harrington.

The realization hits her like a freight train. A snotty, teary-eyed freight train.

Just knowing that he hadn’t been able to show up at Billy’s funeral, or grieve in public the loss that to him must have been earth-shattering, and that he even had to tell her in vague secrets about his relationship to her brother, her heart hurts incredibly for Steve, and she sheds a few silent tears for him

But then there’s this other feeling, this creeping warmth of something like relief deep inside Max. To know she wasn’t alone in her misery or her heartbreak, she feels seen for the very first time since they’d put Billy in the back of that ambulance.

All in one morning, she’d gone from feeling so iced out by her grief, the singular embodiment of mourning being orbited by the ignorant, the selfish, the cruel, and now there were at least two other people out there in the world who could share that pain with her.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t such a humbug after all.

To say that Max doesn’t know what to say now would be the understatement of the century. She’s totally floored, her mind still slowly trying to recuperate from the weight of what Steve just confessed to her.

Eventually she’s able to get her thoughts in order enough to ask, “How long were you guys, like, cool for?”

“He apologized in December.” Looking down into his mug, he takes a sip of coffee, reminding Max that hers is getting cold. “Two months later we were friends.”

She knows what that really means, that ‘friends’ meant he and Billy had started dating in February, and suddenly a couple of things start to come together.

Like the time when Billy had taken her into the city with promises of a shopping spree, but only bought a couple of little gifts and a bouquet of fancy roses that she never saw again. And the days when she’d wake up for school and he’d be missing because he spent the night somewhere without telling anybody, so Susan would have to drive her. Or when she would find him with things too expensive for his pool wages, like a new pair of ray bans, obvious gifts from the secret admirer.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it Steve was behind all of that.

Despite the tears welling up in her eyes, Max decides to try to crack a joke. “Does this mean you’re my brother in law now?”

Steve returns it by shrugging and saying, “I guess it does, shitbird.”

There is a moment where Max allows herself to laugh with Steve, her quiet giggle echoing in their empty little corner of the diner, but in her heart, she feels a pang of guilt when she looks to the booth in front of her, and thinks about how Billy should be there with them too, with his own slice of pie and a whole life ahead of him.

So Max sniffles, a gentle tear sliding down her cheek when she blinks, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs heavily, and sets his cup down. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for, Max.”

The tears make her voice wobbly, and it hardly comes out as she asks, “Don’t you miss him?”

“‘Course I do. All the time.” Steve says softly.

“Then I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to try to hold back the sob that comes after.

She can be grateful that Benny’s isn’t a very popular hangout spot these days, so that the only ones around to hear her crying are a couple of geezers whose hearing is probably too poor to notice anyways and Steve.

“Hey, don’t,” Steve starts to say, but his voice cracks, and there’s tears streaking his cheeks to match those on Max’s.

It’s probably good for them, crying it out over pie and coffee, and there’s something about the whole thing that just feels so right to Max, being able to talk with somebody who’s felt exactly what she’s been going through for these five grueling months of isolation.

To her, it feels like this is just where Billy would want her to be.

Eventually they get it out of their systems, crying until there are no tears left, and with a final dab at their eyes with wadded up printed napkins, they’re good to keep going.

Max is the first to strike the conversation back up, having noticed something particularly familiar about Steve’s denim vest. She has a sneaking suspicion it’s not too much unlike the jacket she’s wearing, in that both articles had at one point belonged to her brother.

She nods her head towards him. “Is that Billy’s?”

“What?” Steve looks down at himself like he’s completely forgotten what he’s wearing. “Oh, yeah. He forgot it at my place ages ago.”

She smiles to herself and says, “He did that a lot, forgot things.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She nods assuredly and explains, “One time, he forgot to pick me up from school, and I didn’t have a bus pass so he had to drive all the way back and get me.”

“Sounds about like Billy.” There’s a warm smile spreading across Steve’s tear-stained face and an equally as warm chuckle. “You know I brought him here last year?”

Max raises an eyebrow and sips her coffee, but doesn’t say anything back. Steve continues in her place. “It was the night of the snowball, and, I’m sure you remember, his face was super messed up.”

“He wanted to talk, I told him we should come here, so we wouldn’t have to sit in his car.” Steve’s sort of staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “We sat at this booth, and that was when he apologized.”

He looks back at Max now to say, “He told me about you too. How last Christmas was different because he didn’t know how to make it up to you.”

“He really loved you, Max.” His voice is thick, like he might start crying again.

Hers is barely above a whisper as she returns the sentiment. “I’m not the only one.”

For the rest of the night until closing, they spent their time exchanging stories of their memories with Billy, of times when he’d made them happy that they felt inclined to share.

They talked about how clumsy he could be, how weird his sense of humor was, his favorite off the wall music, anything and everything that comes to mind that encapsulated the Billy they knew.

One thing they don’t feel the need bring up is abusive parents or accidents at the mall, because that’s not the Billy they want to remember him by. They just talk and talk until they felt as close to one another as they had been to her brother, to his lover.

Just before 10, being that they’re the only stragglers left and Benny’s is about to close, the woman from before who’d taken their orders shoos them out with her politest smile.

From behind the counter, she had watched very moment of their emotional exchange, and some of the cheer in her own heart had been awakened, so she sent them away with some more baked goods before closing up.

Steve takes the long way back to old Cherry Road, trying to stretch this out for as long as he can. They didn’t much talk about it, sure, but his knowledge of how things were in the Hargrove-Mayfield house was enough that he knows he doesn’t want to send Max back there, not yet.

There’s a comfortable silence settled over them in the front seat, no sound but tires on wet pavement and faint Christmas carols drifting quietly through the radio.

Everything they could’ve possibly needed or wanted to say had already been aired out at Benny’s, minus some of the less than subtle stories they didn’t think they should share, so they both just take the time to appreciate the peace.

He’s able to get Max another forty five minutes away from home, letting her settle down in her seat with the heat as high as it can go, taking her drearily down scenic routes and back alley ways, but he can’t delay it forever.

He wishes he could, that didn’t have to take her back there at all, but rather give her the same chance for her freedom from that house that he’d pleaded so desperately with Billy to take before it was too late, but that was a discussion he knew very well she wasn’t ready for.

They pull up outside of the house to see the lights still on, and Max gives him a weak smile before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

She shuts the door behind herself, but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t take any further steps to leave, and Steve doesn’t either.

Rolling down the bimmers window, Steve leans across the seat and says to her, “Listen, if you ever need anything at all just, please let me know. We can do this again anytime.”

She nods and stuffs her hands in her pockets, a look on her face like she’s deep in thought. Steve takes that as his cue that it’s time to leave.

One last smile, a “Merry Christmas, Max,” and he’s pulling away, leaving her to stand alone in the icy breeze.

Making sure he’s well and gone, the sight of his taillights no longer visible from where she's standing, Max takes the envelope that contains Maria’s card out of her pocket, rubbing her thumb over the back of the smooth red paper.

She doesn’t know why she kept it a secret. Of all people, Steve deserves to know, but she figures this is something she’s got to work through on her own.

The front door creaks open behind her, and Susan, dressed in a robe and with her hair up in curlers, calls her inside with scorn in her voice for being out so late.

But not even that can deflate the growing feeling in her chest, of camaraderie, of belonging, of having a friend worth more to her than her mothers bitterness could ever take away.

No, Max goes up the steps to meet her mother in the doorway not with fear or apprehension, but with a certain pride about her, one that might have even been compared to the very swagger that Billy would’ve carried himself with, were he the one to come home after his curfew to find Neil at the door.

Read also on ao3!

[biillyhargroves]

"Don’t you dare touch him!” + harringrove ???

take it out on me(fic requests open)

tw: depictions of child abuse & violence against minors. mildly graphic.disclaimer: this is one of the most intense fics I’ve written and I’m sorry.

Neil Hargrove is not supposed to be home.

Steve knows this. It is a Thursday night, and the Hargrove patriarch can only ever be found at Shanahan’s Pub on Thursday nights. He tucks in after punching the clock and remains there well past happy hour, well past last call. On some Thursday nights, Mr. Hargrove does not find his way home at all. He has been known, occasionally, to stay the night in the small gravel lot outside the bar and, more than once, been discovered there by Chief Hopper or one of the local patrolmen in the early hours of a Friday morning and been sent on his way. Susan Hargrove remains unfettered by her husband’s Thursday night disappearances. She enjoys the quiet, it seems. Sometimes, she works late; her husband cannot complain when he is not home to expect dinner, and she often orders pizza or an overwhelming amount of Chinese food to the house, or gives a couple of fives to her children, so that they do not go hungry in her absence. Steve has ridden shotgun on enough burger runs, has broken enough fortune cookies on enough Thursday nights to know that Neil Hargrove is never, ever home.

The house is always warm. Sometimes, El comes over, or Lucas sneaks in through Max’s window (a habit, he murmurs, when Billy reminds him that the front door is right there, shithead and that he doesn’t always have to break in like some criminal - “Look who’s talking,” Steve has teased, reminded of all the times that Billy has squeezed himself through second-story windows). The night is always quiet, Steve might even call them peaceful, when Neil Hargrove is not home.

And tonight, of course, is a Thursday night. Neil Hargrove is not supposed to be home, so it strikes Steve as rather odd that his battered old Ford is sitting in the driveway. 

Steve wonders if perhaps the truck had broken down this morning. Maybe, after cursing at the damned piece of junk, Neil Hargrove had taken his wife’s car to work. Steve circles around the block once, twice, tries to see inside the yellow windows of the Hargrove house. He can see no shadows inside; no shapes besides the back of the couch, the living room lamp. Steve parks a few streets over, just to be safe. 

Also to be safe, Steve creeps around the backyard. There is no light on in Billy’s bedroom, but there is in Max’s. Steve sees something- someone -dart inside the dimly lit room. He hears a door slam. Max jumps, almost screams, when Steve taps on her window. He apologizes her she even opens it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sor-”

“Shh!” Max hisses. Steve can hear yelling deeper inside the house. There are two voices, both of them male, one of them Billy’s. Steve cannot make out what he is saying but he doesn’t like the pitch of it, the tone of it, the way the words sound raw at their edges. “What are you doing here?” Max whispers. 

“I-” Steve starts, and he lowers his voice when she glares at him- not in angry way, Steve notices. She looks scared. “It’s Thursday,” he says plainly. 

Max only considers this for a fraction of a second before she says, “You need to go.”

Behind her closed door, there is a loud bang! and a subsequent thud! that makes them both jump. The walls shake. There is another shout- something between a grunt and a yelp -followed by a loud, angry bellowing sound. “You need to go,” Max says again, and her voice shakes like the walls. She starts to push Steve outside, but he grips the windowsill. She starts to close the pane but he grabs onto her wrist. 

“Wait,” he says, and when she keeps trying to shove him away he says, “No, no, no. Hey, come on. What the hell is going on?”

“Steve, just go,” Max says desperately.

“No,” Steve says firmly. “No, I’m not just gonna walk away.”

“Steve,” Max says. 

“No,” Steve repeats. “How bad is it?” he asks. “It sounds bad.”

“Steve, you have to go,” Max begs. But Steve has made up his mind. He pushes away from the window and instead of closing it like she’d wanted to, like she’d so desperately been trying to, Max leans her head outside. “Steve!” she calls, still trying to stay quiet. He is crossing the lawn, rounding the corner. “You’ll make it worse!” she says, but she doesn’t think he can hear her. Her step-father, though, could. He calls her name.

“Maxine!” he shouts. “What the fuck is going on in there?”

Without thinking, Max scrambles out the window. She is running around the house, following Steve’s path, by the time Neil Hargrove gets her bedroom door open. She hears him scream her name again and her heart jumps up into her throat. She thinks she might throw it right up, that all of her insides might come spilling out, and she swallows them all back down when she catches up with Steve. 

“Steve, stop it,” Max pleads. He swings around and grabs her shoulders and she freezes. Steve hates the fear in her eyes, hates that he’s the one causing it- right now, at least, in this moment.

“Go to the Byers’,” he tells her. 

“Steve,” Max says. Her voice is small, so very childlike, and for a moment Steve realizes that he has forgotten how young she actually is. She looks younger still with her eyes that wide, with tears in them, with her bottom lip quivering. 

“Go to the Byers and call Hopper,” Steve says. “Make sure it’s him. Can you do that?”

“I-” Max starts, “Steve-” And then, in an instant, her face hardens. “Okay,” she says. 

“Is your mom home?” Steve asks.

“She’s…” she starts. “No. No, she’s out of town.”

“Good,” Steve says. “Go.”

“You really should’ve gone home,” Max says.

Steve says nothing to this. Instead, he tells her, “Go. Mrs. Byers will help.” When Steve lets go of Max, she lingers for a moment. She stares at Steve with a look he can’t quite place. It’s not disappointment, but perhaps uncertainty. Disbelief, maybe. And, Steve thinks, even the tiniest spark of hope. She looks to the house and, when they hear Neil Hargrove shout again, she takes off down the street.

Steve opens the front door. He sees a shadow slip against the hallway wall, big and tall and monstrous. He hears Neil Hargrove growl, “Where’d she go?” he is demanding. “Is she covering for you, you God damned piece of shit? Where the fuck did she go?”

“Billy?” Steve calls, and this makes the yelling stop. 

There is a momentary silence, so quick it seems like an illusion. Steve is frozen in the open doorway. His heart is hammering; he can hear it in his ears, can feel his own pulse throb through every vein. He can taste bile at the back of his throat and prays to whatever deity might deign to listen that it stays put. The shadow grows against the wall again, and it is followed by the thumping footsteps. Steve sees Neil Hargrove’s boots first, scuffed up and dirty, and then he sees his fists with their red knuckles. His face looks less like a man and more like a monster, like something out of the horror movies Max always made them watch. His eyes are hard and his glare feels like daggers drilling right through Steve’s head. He snarls, and Steve half-expects some animal growl to come out of him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Neil demands. 

“Where’s Billy?” Steve counters. He looks behind Neil, but he cannot see anything in the dark hallway. Steve takes a step into the foyer. “Billy?” he calls again. “Billy?!” He doesn’t realize how far he’s moved into the house until Neil Hargrove is butting the stubby tips of his fingers against Steve’s chest. Steve stalls. He stops searching for Billy and looks at those knife-edge eyes. 

“Get out of here, son,” Neil Hargrove says, voice low and downright sinister. Each syllable sends its own chill snaking down Steve’s spine. Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out- not a word, not a squeak, not a scream. “Go on,” Neil Hargrove tells him. 

But Steve doesn’t go. 

Neil Hargrove hangs his head. A breathes a heavy sigh and then, turning slightly toward the hallway, he shouts, “Billy! You want to come out here and tell me who this asshole is?” There is no answer. Steve tries to listen, tries to catch even a small rasp of Billy’s breathing, but his ears are ringing and he can’t hear anything else. Neil looks to him again, a kind of sideways glance, and Steve feels another tremor shudder through him. “I’ll call the cops if you don’t get out,” Neil warns, but instead of finding a phone he shouts over his shoulder, “Billy! You get your ass out here!” 

This time, there is movement; a small shuffling, a shifting of shadows. Steve watches Billy emerge from them. He presses one hand against the wall for support and his other warm is wrapped protectively around his middle. One eye is puffy and swollen, and Steve thinks he’s watching it swell right shut. Billy’s lip is bleeding - or perhaps it’s coming from his mouth, because his teeth look bloody when he opens his mouth. 

“Don’t,” he says. 

“Don’t what?” Neil asks, almost teasing. Billy glares at him. “You don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell this kid to break into my house, now did I? He did that of his own volition.” 

Billy looks down. Steve has never seen him so sheepish; so frightened. He looks to the door, still open to the black night outside. He thinks about Max. Would she be at the Byers’ yet? How fast could she run? 

“Billy,” Neil Hargrove says in a sickly sing-song voice that makes Steve’s blood curdle. Steve snaps his head back toward Billy, who is just-barely holding himself up, his hair hanging over his face as he looks to his father. Neil’s voice is low and dangerous when he says, “You want to tell me who this is?”

“Some asshole,” Billy bites out. 

“Some asshole,” Neil repeats. “Now, that might be the first right thing you’ve said all night.” He turns his attention to Steve. He tilts his head, considers him, and then he asks, “Now what are you doing barging into my house and calling after my son?” he asks. “Were you creeping around here?” he asks. “Looking for my boy?” he demands. “Were you in my daughter’s window, too?” he presses. Each question is punctuated with a shove; it is not harsh, just a jab of Neil’s fingers against Steve’s chest, and he advances with each strike. Steve steps backward, backward, backward until his heel almost slips off the lip between the door and the front stoop. Steve grabs the door jam to stop himself from falling, breaking eye contact only briefly to glance outside. When he looks back, when he finds Billy over Neil’s shoulder, Billy’s is glaring at him. Why are you here? his eyes say. Why is your stupid ass even here?

“It’s Thursday,” Steve murmurs, even though Billy had not asked. 

“What was that?” Neil asks. Steve looks at him. He tastes the bile again; he doesn’t think he can hold it down. “It’s Thursday?” Neil asks. “Is this some kind of routine for you?” This time, when he shoves Steve, it is harsh. Steve loses his balances. He is thrust outside, tumbling ass over teakettle down the front steps and onto the walkway. His teeth catch his lip when he tries to curl his head away from the cement and now he tastes blood, too. 

“Don’t!” he hears Billy yell, though he sounds about a million miles away. Neil Hargrove is looming over Steve, a great big shadow blocking out the moon and the stars and the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps. He hears footsteps, stumbling ones, and suddenly Neil is torn away. “Don’t you dare!” Billy snaps. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” 

Steve lifts himself up in time to see Billy one land one good punch before Neil throws him away- literally throws him, like a rag doll, and Billy lands with a crash that shakes the whole damn floor. Neil rounds on him; he rises, towers over his son, raises his fists.

“No!” Steve screams. He forces himself to his feet. He is shaky, and he bumps into the door on his way through it. He throws himself at Neil. He, too, is easily flung away.

“What the fuck is this?” Neil demands. He is rounding on Billy once more. Steve staggers to his feet, reaches for Neil, grabs fistfuls of the man’s black jacket. Neil twists around, his cracked knuckles scraping Steve’s cheek, his jaw, and when he can’t Steve off of him he slams Steve against the wall. Steve loses his grip. He falls to his knees. The shadow over him grabs the front of his shirt and hoists him up. “Who the fuck are you?” Neil Hargrove growls. 

“Get off of him,” Billy snarls. He is on shaky feet, too, and Steve wishes he could just stay down. This isn’t Billy’s fight anymore, Steve things. He thinks about Max, about how she’d have to have called by now. He thinks that Chief Hopper must be on his way, he has to be, it’s been long enough. He looks at Billy, wants to plead with him: just stay down. it’ll be over soon. stay down. But Billy doesn’t. He beats his fists against his father’s back, pleading, “Get away from him!” 

Again, Billy is thrown off. This time, when he lands, he doesn’t move. Steve’s heart jumps up, but he cannot move. Neil Hargrove still has him pinned to the wall. He glares, hard, at Steve. 

“I’m gonna ask you one more time,” he says slowly. “Who. The fuck. Are you?”

Steve does not answer. He can hear car tires in down the street, the distance wail of sirens. He waits. Waits, waits, waits in silence until he hears the tires screech around the corner of Cherry Lane. Red and blue light washes over the dark street outside and the moment Steve sees them, the moment the first rogue beam shines through the window, Steve smiles. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Neil Hargrove asks, and Steve laughs.

Behind them, Billy is slowly crawling to his hands and knees. He looks confused. He watches the door, watches Chief Hopper’s beige car slide up to the curb. Neil Hargrove lets go of Steve and, without that strong grip wrinkling his shirt, Steve collapses to his knees. Billy looks at him. “What did you do?” he asks. Steve does not have a chance to answer. Chief Hopper is already taking long strides up the front law, is talking about a call about a disturbance at 4819 Cherry Lane. He is already peering inside, catching sight of the boys. There are cuffs in his hands and soon they are around Neil’s wrists. 

Steve moves towards Billy, reaches for him, but Billy shrinks away. 

“That was fucking stupid,” he spits. 

“I had to do it,” Steve says. Again, he reaches for Billy, but this time Billy slaps him away.

“You shouldn’t have done anything,” Billy says, but the anger that is normally present in his voice, in his very being, isn’t there. He isn’t even looking at Steve. He is watching his father shout at the chief, is watching two uniformed officers tugging him away. Outside, the back door of Chief Hopper’s car swings open and Max emerges, Mrs. Byers following. Mrs. Byers stops at Hopper, who is saying something about waiting in the car. Max, though, practically runs into the house.

“Billy,” she says, and Billy’s eyes snap up to hers. Something close to a sob catches in her throat when she says his name again and throws her arms around his neck. She buries her head against him, mutters apologies that he does not answer. This time, when Steve reaches for Billy, Billy lets him touch his back- even lets him put an arm around his shoulders. Steve can feel Billy uncoiling beneath him. When Billy breathes out, Steve thinks the smallest cry comes out of him - disbelief and relief expelled in a single exhale. He leans forward and Steve moves to catch him, to secure between himself and Max. 

“It’s okay,” Steve says. He will not say he’s sorry. He holds Billy, feels Billy’s free hand- the arm not wrapped around Max -close around his own waist. “It’s okay,” he says as Billy begins to cry. 

[neokids]

Fortune's Fool: Act VI

Masterlist

Act VI

Tw: Lots of blood, character death, violence, murder, guns, knives, weapons, foul language, self-inflicted wounds, suicide, overall graphic content

Jeno wasn’t having the best of days,

The moment he woke up, he already stubbed his toe on the door while leaving his room. Then, as he went down the stairs, he had caught a splinter on the railing. Then, he accidentally smashed his mug because it had slipped and fell from his hand. As for the cherry on top, he had to go investigate a new crime scene with the possibility of it being supernatural. The crime scene was nothing but eerie. Not to add it was near the alleys near the docks in Han river. Now, however, he was already on his way home, with his cousin’s backpack. Haechan refused to get his backpack back without getting a proper wash.

As Jeno went inside the living room, a slam of the door suddenly echoed all throughout the house. An annoyed Jeno turned around, about to curse the person who slammed the door, only to find out it was Lucas.

“Jeno Lee!” Lucas shouted, “Where were you this morning?”

Jeno and Lucas were only a year apart from each other. What irked Jeno the most was that Lucas acted as if he were much older, wiser, smarter, and experienced. Lucas acted as if he were far more superior and higher ranking than him, the actual heir of the Neos. Just as Jeno rolled his eyes and passed him, Lucas had reached out to ruffle his hair.

Jeno jerked back and slapped his hand away from him. Jeno Lee was the heir to one of the most powerful gangs in Seoul, but when Lucas was anywhere in sight, he was back to being a five year old.

“Get out.” Jeno had quickly said. Growing up, Lucas would always be the one to rat on him. He had told Lord Lee so many things that Jeno had done. From the smallest of things, such as cheating on a test, to the biggest of things, such as his relationship with a certain heiress. It was all because of Lucas that his father wouldn’t trust him anymore. It was because of Lucas that Jeno wasn’t allowed to fuck up. It was because of Lucas that wouldn’t allow Jeno to become soft.

“What do you want?” Jeno asked in an annoyed tone as he bit into his apple.

“Don’t fret.” Lucas crossed the room until he was right in front of Jeno. He poured himself a glass of water, and drank it all in one gulp. “I was just about to leave.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes yet again. Just as took another bite into his apple, he turned around ready to go to his room, did he see two brown eyes staring right back at him.

He almost threw the apple he was holding to her face.

“By God, Jasmine. You’re gonna give me a heart attack someday.” Jeno said as he extended his arms to get his sister. His sister was sitting by the kitchen counter all along. Neither Jeno nor Lucas had noticed. He didn’t know how she was able to fit in that tiny space, along with all the other condiments, but he would rather not ask. He also didn’t know why she was there, but again, he would rather not ask.

“Come on, off you go.” Jeno said as he held his sister. “Hey!” she whined when Jeno set her on the floor. “I just got this dress!”

Jeno had looked at her as he arched his brow, it was indeed, not. It had holes and random stains everywhere, a product of how she would fit into the smallest of places. If people didn’t know she was a Lee, she would have been mistaken for a lost child on the street.

“Got your dress from where? The thrift store?” He jokingly said as he bent down to his sister’s height. He had tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, only for him to freeze when he saw a familiar necklace on her sister’s neck. It was their mom’s necklace. The last time he saw that necklace was in the morgue, when they had said their last goodbyes to a very burnt Lady Lee.

Lady Lee had succumbed to tuberculosis not long after giving birth to Jasmine. Jeno could only visit her once a month, due to the fact that he could get infected anytime as well. Jasmine was only a baby then, so she had never known her mother. Jeno remembered Lady Lee to look worse every time, she looked like she was about to breathe her last breath at any moment.

What they didn’t expect was for her last breath to be a breath of shock, just as the Vipers had bombed down the secret location. When the whole place had burned down, nothing was left but a single lavender flower placed in Lady Lee’s burnt hands. The Vipers had struck back, and it was the start of a war.

Jeno should have despised the Viper gang far before they had killed Lady Lee, but he could never bring himself to do so. After his mother died, he still couldn’t do so. It was a blood feud, that’s how blood feuds worked. If you strike, expect a strike back. He should have expected it, to say the least. It was his fault, he could never not blame himself for the death of his mother. If only he hadn’t bombed the servants of the Vipers, then maybe, his mother would have been alive, and Jasmine could have grown up to their mother’s love.

Jasmine nudged Jeno’s sleeve. “Earth to Jeno?”

Jeno snapped out of his trance. With gentle hands, he examined the necklace. “Where did you get this?” He asked softly.

“I found it hidden in our stock rooms while I was on an adventure.” She answered, eyes bright with a smile. When Jasmine smiled, it only reminded Jeno of his mother’s smile, causing him to smile as well.

“It’s very pretty, do take care of it, yeah?” Jasmine nodded as she touched the necklace. Jeno then kneeled in front of her and gave her a quick hug. “Adventure calls then, just be back for dinner.” Jasmine gave Jeno a big thumbs up with the brightest smile before she started to skip around the house.

When she was out of sight, Jeno begrudgingly headed up the stairs to his fathers office. He filled his lungs with air as he stood outside of Lord Lee’s office, and knocked.

“Enter.”

With one last sigh, Jeno opened the door.

“So?” His father said in place of a greeting. He didn’t even bother to look at his son, he was so busy writing a letter. “I hope you have something to tell me.”

Jeno mustered all his strength, and walked in. He cautiously took out the shoe from Haechan’s bag and placed it on the table. Lord Lee had abruptly stopped writing his letter, causing the ink to bleed and create a very hideous blotch. He looked at the shoe and then he looked at Jeno.

“What is this?” He asked, as if Jeno had placed a hybrid animal in front of him. “It’s what you asked for.” He gulped before continuing, “I found it in the first crime scene when 10 people died, it belonged to the man who died in the Poculum, meaning he was present there as well.”

Lord Lee could only slam his desk, causing Jeno to flinch obviously. He had forced himself to stare blankly ahead of him, making sure his face showed no emotion whatsoever.

“I asked you to bring me answers, not a lost and found. For Christ’s sake Jeno, I ask you one thing and you can’t even give it to me!” He yelled as he sat back down. He rubbed his temples for a few seconds, taking a moment to calm himself down. “Get this out of my face.”

Jeno took the shoe and shoved it back into the bag. “This is what you asked for, appa.” Jeno thinned his lips, careful for his next choice of words. “10 men had clawed themselves to death with only 1 who had escaped. It just so happens that the man who was able to escape died the next day, does that not sound like a spreading contagion to you?”

Lord Lee could only rub his temples again, he did not respond for a while. Jeno watched as his father crumpled the ruined letter and wrote a new one. Just as he finished signing the letter did he decide to speak.

“I do not wish to be part of this contagion or madness or whatever you believe it is,” he concluded. “Just figure out what is happening. That is all I ask from you.”

Jeno slowly nodded, “I’ll see what I can find out about this man.”

Lord Lee could only remove his glasses as he looked his son in the eye. “Don’t jump into conclusions, Jeno. Make sure that that shoe you have indeed belongs to the deceased man.”

Jeno only nodded again. “The man is currently kept in the morgue of a Viper hospital, I’ll see for myself.”

“Find a way in,” Lord Lee said with a shrug. “When I asked you to obtain information about the first attack, you seemed to enter with ease.”

Jeno froze. Was that really necessary? The only reason why he had come to the club to speak to Lord Hwang was because Lord Lee couldn’t do so. If the two Lords had faced each other, everyone would have been dead by now. Jeno was simply a messenger on a mission. A mission sent by his father.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “The Poculum is a very public and busy bar, a lot of people were busy. A privately-owned hospital makes it har–”

“Find someone to take you in then. The Viper heir has returned hasn’t she?” There was an odd feeling bubbling in his stomach, but he could not decipher what feeling it was. He only maintained his blank face.

“You certainly must be joking, appa.”

Lord Lee only shrugged before taking another paper to write a letter on. Before he actually started writing, he looked his son dead in the eye.

“It is not a bad idea,” Lord Lee said before actually starting the letter. “Surely you can ask her one favor. She was your lover, after all.” With that said, Lord Lee had turned all his attention towards the letter, it was Jeno’s cue to leave.

He left the office and trudged downstairs. He quickly passed through the underground passages that lead to the house where his cousin and best friend stayed. Just as he approached the living room, he already heard the laughter of his friends. Haechan was currently busy reading the newspaper that had the headline of what had happened at the Poculum. Jaemin on the other hand, was too busy painting away on his canvas.

“We could hear you a mile away you know?” Jaemin asked, gaze not leaving his work of art. “What is it this time?” Haechan asked before folding the newspaper and setting it aside. In front of these two could Jeno only let out his frustration as he threw the bag with the shoe across the room. “Woah excuse me?! What is with the attitude young sir?!”

Haechan exclaimed as he went towards his bag, picking it up. “I think you’re forgetting this is new and limited ed–” Haechan stopped abruptly, causing Jeno and Jaemin to turn their attention to him. Haechan had suddenly realized that he was holding the same bag that Jeno had used to stuff the dead insects and the dead man’s shoe with.

“You know what? On second thought, throw it all you want.” He said, dropping the bag with a loud thud on the floor. He wiped his hands before sitting next to his very stressed out cousin.

“What’s got you worked up?” Haechan asked, observing the sight of Jeno elbows on knees as he continuously rubbed on his temples. “My father wants me to go to the morgue where the dead man is.” Jeno said simply, voice lacked any emotion.

“So? What about it?” Jaemin asked as he put down his paint brush and turned towards Jeno and Haechan. “Just go then, don’t tell me you’re scared.” Jaemin tried to make his best friend’s mood lighter, only causing Jeno to look up and narrow his eyes at him.

“I think you’re forgetting the man is in a Viper hospital? Plus my father suggests Yeji to be the one to take me.” Jeno said as he sank further deeper on the couch.

“Oh.”

“I see.”

Haechan and Jaemin could only look at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Very well then, I wish you good luck my friend.” Jaemin said, standing up to go back to his painting.

“My best wishes.” Haechan said as he pat Jeno on the back. “What the hell am I supposed to do? How the hell am I supposed to ask, or even approach her?!”

Haechan and Jaemin only looked at each other again. “Listen Jeno, to be honest with you, you sound like a middle schooler trying to figure out how to confess to their crush. I don’t know about you, but I don’t see you having to be so stressed out and worried about a simple matter like this.” Jaemin said as he added a few brush strokes to his painting.

“A simple matter like this?” Jeno echoed, his tone a bit alarming causing Haechan and Jaemin to gulp. “I killed her mother figure, the only person she had actually ever loved, and you say I have nothing to be stressed or worried about?” Jeno was now standing, almost close enough to strangle Jaemin.

“That’s not true… she had loved you right?” Jaemin asked with an awkward smile, trying to calm Jeno down. It was not helping at all.

“You,” Haechan suddenly said to Jaemin, “Stop talking.”

“Got it.” Jaemin said as he passed Jeno quickly. “Consider it a business meeting,” Haechan paused to look if Jeno was listening, thankfully he was. “Rule number one of business is to never let personal lives interfere. Stay professional, that’s all.”

“I agree.” Haechan shot a glare towards Jaemin, the latter immediately shut up again.

“If you both wish to find answers, I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not like only you would benefit from this, I’m sure the moment you two go your separate ways, she would automatically tell daddy dearest what she had found out.” Haechan said, making Jeno sit back down and nod in agreement. Jeno was feeling a bit more relaxed.

“Call it a partnership if you will.”

[razorblade180]

Skirmish pt1

The Void, a realm between realms. Here the kids and characters of alternate universes can communicate freely. Though knowledge and experiences gained here isn’t retained when they leave, that doesn’t stop them from seeking ways to improve by communications with others. Currently The Void was fuller than ever with all kids who have entered before; everyone enjoying their time in the simulated Emerald Forest. Until…

“Lucas, can I ask you a favor?” Carmine asked as she stood over the resting boy. His hands rested behind his head and he looked up into the pools of silver that held an analyzing gleam.

“What kind of favor?”

“Fight me.” Her tone was completely deadpanned.

Not a single soul let that go unheard. Relaxing quickly turned into intriguement. Eliza, the newest member, saw the look of surprise that the longer residents had.

“Pardon my ignorance, but is this a big deal?”

Yujin nodded, “Carmine is the strongest of us here. A few of us tried fighting her, me included. It didn’t go so well. She’s accepted challengers before but Carmine has never approached us to fight.”

“I see. Is this Lucas a skilled fighter or something?”

Yujin threw up her arms, “Who knows!? We’ve seen him fight a little once before but nothing too noticeable, besides him seeing the future.”

“Huh...interesting.”

Lucas sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Fight you?”

“Yes, a sword fight to be specific. I’d like to test my ability since there’s improvements I know I could make.”

Carmine pulls out her curved greatsword that resembles a dorsal fin or Nevermore talon. “You come from two very accomplished swordsmen so I know your skills must be up to par.”

I suppose she isn’t wrong. Belladonna and Arc swordplay is quite different. He thought to himself. “Sorry but I think I’ll pass. I don’t need my semblance to know how that would end.”

“I’m not concerned with the outcome but the experience.” She countered.

Lucas laid back down and shut his eyes to Carmine’s displeasure. This was expected unfortunately. Carmine didn’t move from her spot. She did however look over her shoulder to see Nick walk up to her.

“I don’t mind fighting you Carmine.” He smiled brightly with excitement. “If you want a person that has two accomplished swordsmen then you can’t get much better than a Schnee and Arc combo.”

Carmine turned towards him and gave a sheepish smile as she rubbed the back of her head. “Not to be insensitive, but pushing my limits would be harder with you. I need Lucas for this.” She turned back around, brushing him off.

Nick froze for a moment. He just got dismissed. Nicholas Schnee had gotten the cold shoulder before but not like this. Carmine…didn’t even think twice. It stung a bit for sure, maybe more than it should’ve.

Nick quietly walked away stewing in that feeling. Other’s from his world silently watched him sulk. Jacquelyn also felt a bit bad for him before turning back to Carmine who was still trying to get her way.

“What’s the point of having a sword if you don’t use it?”

“I use it, just not here.”

“I would think an Arc would pride themselves and be invigorated to test their skills. At least Nick and I have that fire.”

Lucas crossed his legs and sunk his weight into the grass. “Well I guess I’m more Belladonna than Arc.”

Carmine folded her arms. “I see.” She took a long, dissatisfying sigh. “Running away must be a genetic thing.”

No one was expecting that. A gasp came out of them except for Veronica, whose arm was grabbed immediately by Sparrow to prevent any unwanted fighting.

“Let me go.” She said through her teeth.

He did but placed his arm in front of her. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

Lucas opened his eyes again at Carmine. Both of them now visibly unamused. “I know what you’re doing, pretty shameful for the daughter of Ruby. You think she would’ve raised you better.”

“Heh” Carmine held back an insult in favor of clicking her tongue. “I don’t know about you but a kid should defend their parents name when it’s insulted right?” Lucas stood up and showed a smirk.

“I do believe that to be the case, you devious girl. A son in particular wouldn’t be much of a good one if he took such an insult with no problem.”

“Like I said before, I’m asking you for sword practice. I won’t be using my nightstick, semblance, or dust. I’d appreciate it if you did the same.

“Deal, except for one adjustment. I’ll allow you to use your semblance since mine can be rather unpredictable at times. Plus I’m sure it’ll be more realistic in this way.”

“Alright, then we are in agreement.” Carmine twirls her blade. “Since I challenged you, it’s only fair you pick the arena.”

Lucas runs his chin for a moment before deciding on the spot. One snap of his fingers shifted the entire forest into a desert, devoid of anything except palm trees for the others to be under. A good move since Eliza, Summer, Nick, and Valerie were wholefully unprepared.

“Oh my god!” Valerie said, removing her jacket and tossing it. “This heat, Lucas what the hell!?”

“I’m used to sand and so is Carmine. It’s pretty fair here.”

“I’m sure it would’ve been fair in a grassland with moderate temperature!” Valerie sat down to catch her breath. Even the air stung. Eliza grouped them all together then created a single cloud over them. Snowflakes fell from it gently, evaporating almost immediately but still creating a patch of cooler land.

“Better?” She asked Valerie.

The girl nodded. For once she was happy that Eliza had magic. “I don’t know how but I’ll repay you for this.”

With everyone else already comfortable it was time for the skirmish to begin. It was bound to be interesting. Carmine gave Lucas an appreciative nod before jumping several feet back. Her slander to Blake was honestly a bit rude and she felt a tad bad. “Hey-”

“No hard feelings, right?” Lucas said as he pulled out his golden katana. “I know, still gonna stab you.”

Carmine smiled and rested her sword on her right shoulder. Her knees were slightly bent and she studied Lucas. She liked what she saw. Lucas took a stance where both his hands gripped the blade and angled it slightly outwards in front of him, the hilt at waist level. His right foot was forward and he seemed rooted deep into the ground as his legs bent a little while his posture remained perfect. Even his elbows were in place!

His stance looks right out of a training book, not a hair out of place. Countering and defense must be good so- “Huh?”

The crew watched Lucas switch into another stance. This one had him bend down even lower and raised his blade up to the side of his face where it pointed straight ahead. He then transitioned into putting his left foot forward as his entire body leaned in that direction while his sword arm went by his back leg. His left arm went in front of him as if he had a shield.

A bead of sweat ran down Carmine’s brow. She put her left foot forward and went into a half squat while keeping her sword where it rested on her body. She clenched it tight as Lucas went back to his first stance and smirked.

So that’s how it’s gonna be huh? Carmine slowed her breathing. Let’s do this…

She kicked off the ground with a power for lunge towards Lucas that sent sand flying. Carmine closed the gap between them in a matter of seconds, swinging her blade at his ribs but was met with a perfect block by Lucas. Carmine’s arms flew back from the impact, leaving her exposed to get slashed across her stomach; the force swift strike slid her back a couple feet before Carmine stopped herself.

Lucas watched her rush at him again and jumped over a sweep directed at his legs. Carmine used her momentum to follow through with a complete spin to aim the next strike at chest level. She slashed nothing but air. Lucas had already ducked the attack, then followed up with his own leg sweep that sent Carmine falling on her side. She instinctively rolled backwards to gain distance and ended up avoiding a stab straight down where she fell.

Good reflexes, thought I had her. Oh well. He goes back to his second stance and waits for her to get up. “You good?”

Carmine says nothing. She grabs her scarf and tears it off of her then tossed it in the air. Eliza and a few others made the mistake of drawing their attention to it, until a thunderous boom brought them back to Carmine. She was gone, so was Lucas. Both of them had them zipping around the desert and causing sparks to fly with each sword clash.

But now matter how many times they clashed, Carmine didn’t get a clean hit. A few grazes but the so-called ‘strongest’ kept missing. All why Lucas dodged and connected attacks as if-

Eliza gasped he’s actually seeing her moves? The girl wondered. She took her eyes off the match to gaze at the other’s reaction, only to get a chill down her spine. Nick, no, every swordsman had this intensity in their eyes that felt inhuman.

Yujin and Summer seemed a bit sad. As if they felt inadequate, while Nick and Jael looked so aggravated. It was the same as Carmine in the beginning of the match. Jael clenched her fist tightly. “Hey…”

“I know.” Nick gritted his teeth, clearly the most upset. “I don’t like how calm Lucas is in all those stances either.”

Eliza wanted to ask a question but felt a little out of place. Did those stances mean something? Why was it bad to be calm? Fortunately Jacquelyn saw the girl’s troubled look and got closer to her. She bent down and leaned into her ear.

“Swordsmen have a preferred style that they try to master. Those styles might have a few different stances but mastering each one is fairly difficult and having the judgment to know when to switch takes practice. Even then, they usually have a stance they regularly stick with.”

That made sense. Eliza has seen Nick and Summer fight before and they definitely had a stance that was commonly seen. Were they on edge because Lucas seemingly has mastered multiple? That would be frustrating no doubt but why look annoyed? Judgment would come easy if…

“Oh…” she looked back at their faces, then the fight. Lucas had blocked another downward slash with a perfect block that flowed into a shoulder check that pushed Carmine away. “He’s basically cheating.”

Jael bit her lip. “I wouldn’t call it cheating but that semblance definitely puts him on easy street. Swordplay is basically it’s own language and his constant perfect switching is basically saying “you’re predictable” or “I’m better” and it’s annoying.

“Because it’s not entirely earned.” Nick added. “He’s naturally hard to beat regardless of how much he may or may not practice. Then there’s his ears.”

“If they’re anything like mine of Veronica’s then he could probably hear the way Carmine’s muscles move. She’s an open book to him.” Sienna said.

She watched Nick sit down and sulk a bit. Someone is feeling inferior, I wonder if he’ll realize in terms of actual skill, he’s the best here. Lucas might have an easy pass at birth but…

Carmine backflipped away before charging forward. Mix him up!

Halfway from him, she did a hard sidestep to his left side then lunged forward. Lucas didn’t even move. Carmine jumped straight and reeled her sword back to throw it. At that same moment she saw Lucas start moving his sword and decided to stop, spooking him into backing up. Confirming a suspension she had.

Crap...Lucas thought. He knew he messed up. Carmine landed and finally stopped attacking.

He didn’t flinch when I was right in front of him but moved whenever my sword was gonna get thrown. He knew my plan to bait him but wasn’t expecting me to stop.

She walked over to her scarf to retrieve it. They had to be at least thirty feet apart but the sound of her laughter reached him.A feeling of excitement ran through her. She hadn’t landed a single hit while he’s had at least fifteen. Laughter slowly grew louder and more impulsive to the point it sounded a little scary to...well everyone.

“Man! I knew I’d have my work cut out for me! This is what I was hoping for, a chance to really strut my stuff!” Her cackling and pure excitement in her eyes gave Lucas a concerned look. “Care to share the joke?”

“Okay, how do you beat someone who may know your next move?” The biggest boom from Carmine running off came right after. Eliza watched the reaper advance in a zigzag motion at a speed that made her body seem to flicker in and out of reality. Lucas’s eyes couldn’t keep up!

She’s faster! There was no time to move before Carmine was out of sight completely. The shifting sand behind him made Lucas around to see Carmine aiming for a hit right side. He raised his sword to defend but Carmine stopped right before contact and swung in the exact opposite direction. There wasn’t any time for Lucas to block and his ribs were finally greeted with her blade.

“Out pace him!” Carmine said, thrilled by the challenge.

His purple aura immediately flickered a little and sent him flying. Lucas tumbled onto his feet and greeted Carmine's eyes inches away before a sword thrust went right to his stomach, then cut straight down his hip. Lucas hissed in pain and backstepped, sheath is sword.

“Oh no you don’t!” Carmine yelled, finally getting into a groove. Her sword glowed red as she ran her hand along it. Carmine swung vertically in his direction and a wave of red aura flew off it as a projectile. “AND ONE MORE!” Carmine screamed while swinging horizontally.

Why did I agree to this? You knew this was insane but agreed to this! Lucas’s blade locked firmly in place, the sheath flattened around it and he hell his extended blade with both hands.

Yujin nearly flipped out. “Tenzen!!!! He’s got a katana and an odachi in one!”

“You’re drooling Jin”

“I know!!!”

Lucas tensed his arms and deflected the first one, while splitting the second in half. Carmine’s first attack carved a long crack into the ground that was quickly being filled by rushing sand. Second attack however, part of it was heading right for the crowd. Jael, to be specific.

The girl was quick to brandish her sword to defend but didn’t get the chance as Nick slid in front of her at the last second and blocked it with Mort Froid. An intense buzzing sensation went up his arm but he poker faced through the pain by casually shaking out his wrist.

“Oof, that has some kick to it! Carmine’s aura feels so dense, that move reminds me of Qrow.”

“I could’ve handled that myself you know?” Jael said, half heartedly at best. Frankly she had no idea.

“Sorry, got a little anxious from this fight. I just had to move. To think Lucas sliced through that.” Nick’s face soured, his spirit bruised. “No wonder she chose him over me.”

That was destructive thinking and he knew it, but Nick couldn’t help himself. Right now he couldn’t help but feel a little dissatisfied with himself. Lucas had two years more on him but it still stung.

“Gosh you’re such an idiot.” Eliza chimed in and grabbed all of their attention. Suddenly she felt a little embarrassed for speaking out without warning. “I may not know a lot about swordsmanship but…” her fingers started playing with her pigtails.

“I think it’s way more impressive seeing someone with no special trait block a move like that, rather than a person who has those things actually slice it. That means the first person had to work harder.”

Her reasoning caught Nick off guard, but in a good way. The boy smiled and patted her back. “Daaawwww look at you, cheering me up and stuff! How considerate!” He laughed.

“Shut up! Pay attention to the fight like everyone else. I think something might be happening.”

He looked outward to see Lucas and Carmine run pass each other and clash swords before quickly pivoting to repeat the attack. If one swung left then the other swung right. When Carmine jumped for an overhead attack then it was meant with a rising slash.

Both of them were drenched in sweat but didn’t seem to be all that exhausted. Lucas seemed poised and almost unaffected, except for his soiled clothes. Not even his breath wavered. Knowing how to react was clearly saving him energy by not doing any unnecessary movements. Still, his advantage was only getting him so far.

What Carmine lacked in perfect form, she made up with unreasonably high stamina and power. She’s been on the offensive this entire time. Instead of worrying about how she’d get countered, Carmine focused on how to recover afterwards. Even if Lucas saw it ahead of time it didn’t mean it was certain that he could evade, or that he saw it coming in the first place.

Everyone could see her chest rise and fall with each swing that failed to land its mark. Lucas had been able to hit her at least three times as much and yet no one thought it appropriate to think Carmine was losing.

Maybe it was because she admitted to wanting sword practice. The fact that was the only thing she was using spoke of her talents alone. It was roughly a fifth of her full wheelhouse of weapons. They all watched as Lucas landed another sidekick right to her gut, sending Carmine sliding back. Finally she stopped and took a knee.

Lucas seemed relieved. “Ready to call a quits!? I know I am.”

“Hardly!” Carmine shouted. “It’s rare to see you do anything and for me to have this kind of training. Even if it only matters here, it’s fun. I’m having fun.”

Carmine stood up and wrapped her scarf around her face until it was under her eyes. “From this point on however, you’re done. Lucas Belladonna, I got your number.

The man’s vision went black with a silhouette of Carmine glowing white. He saw it move forward doing a flip that ended in a slam on top of him. His vision went back to normal and he braced himself.

Another attack from above? Is she done with mix ups or… “Bring it on!” Lucas did a cross slash that mimicked Carmine’s aura attack, sending two shockwaves at her that grazed the ground.

He’s having fun too. Carmine smiled and ran straight at his attack. She tossed her sword into the air like a baton then went straight into a cartwheel that transitioned into a handspring midway.

Carmine’s body went cleanly over the first slash before landing. She used the moment of the descent to go right into a crouch and jumped straight up like a frog into the air, clearing the second slash. Carmine grabbed her sword midair and spun sideways like a saw towards Lucas. “Take this!”

“No thanks.” He moved backwards “That was pretty straight forward don’t you-”

Carmine’s sword and body glowed a bright red right before slamming against the ground. A massive shockwave pushed outwards, sending the sand flying into the air like a plume of smoke from a factory. It immediately caught up and shot past Lucas, covering the area in what was basically a tiny sandstorm.

“Oh man, we can’t see now. But I guess that’s kinda the point.” Sparrow thought, out loud to himself. “I guess that Lucas guy is done for huh? Not much future to see if it’s all sand.”

The others gasped except for Jacquelyn and Sienna who had figured out Carmine’s plan already. Whatever happened next was surely going to suck for Lucas.

The boy in question held his left arm in front of his face and squinted his eyes. The air stung his skin from the sand while the wind from the attack howled in his ears. His senses were now taken away from him.

“This is bad.” Suddenly the feeling of Carmine’s sword went across his back before retreating back into the haze. It appeared again against his legs, then his left forearm, and then once more right by his face. All Lucas could see each time was brief glimpses of Carmine come out to attack before hiding herself again. He made an effort to start running out of the smokescreen but was immediately hit from the front to send him flying in the opposite direction.

“This is really bad!” Lucas heard a footstep on his left and swung, only for an attack to get him from the right.

How did she…!?

He tried jumping straight out of it but felt a hand grab his ankle before flinging him down where he was treated to eight rapid sword thrusts to his torso.

“What’s wrong? The future must be pretty useless if you only see where my attack comes from but not anything that leads up to it.”

Another five strikes hit his back before he turned around to swing at absolutely nothing. Again he tried running but saw her blade swing at his midsection. Dodge it that time and turned around to try another direction until Carmine jumped out of the haze again right in front of him, drop kicking him and then hiding again. Lucas stood up and watched his aura flicker.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?” He chuckled nervously.

“The others aren’t giving you enough credit Lucas. Taking in info in what must be seconds, applying it accordingly, listening and watching timing, that semblance is only good because you’re so smart.”

“So you took out all the ways I try to fill in the gaps of information. Now it really is your skills vs mine.” He put away his blade. “I don’t need to see the future to know how one sided that truly is, I give in.”

“Not even going to try and turn the tide?”

“In a place like this? Nah, I can’t even track your position and I have a sneaking suspicion about something. Carmine, is this smokescreen for me or so the others don’t see your semblance.

Lucas heard the girl give out a loud “Ha!” followed by a massive gut of wind that blew all the sand away.

Carmine stood in front of him with the tip of her sword right on his chest. “Why not both? I’ll accept your surrender if you remain silent.”

“Deal, not like I entirely understand it anyways.”

Carmine finally put her sword back on her back and gave Lucas a handshake. The environment changed back into the forest and the others walked over a little surprised that things ended so abruptly.

“Done already? Who won?” Yujin asked as if she didn’t already know by the look on Carmine’s face.

“I did, not that it really matters. I had a lot of fun fighting you Lucas. Had to do some real trial and error.” Carmine rubbed her head. “Nice way to spend the-”

“Fight me.” Nick said firmly. He had certainly gotten everyone’s attention with the way his voice commanded it. Carmine looked at the hunger in his eyes, the passion to achieve something. To prove her earlier words to him wrong.

“It should be no big deal if you’re so confident I won’t push your limits.” Nick said, trying not to sound too irritated by it.

Carmine looked at his wrist. She had noticed that Nick blocked her attack earlier. If she was honest, she only said those words earlier because fighting against a person who sees the future was going to be extremely tricky. Carmine was fully aware Nick was a capable swordsman. His skill with one might be the best here. Only fitting considering it’s his only weapon of choice.

“Okay.” She said, surprising everyone. “You’re on, Nicholas Schnee.”