#perfectly unaware (young oliver)

[lost-soul-in-time]

🧸 Little Ace has returned, but he's not feeling too well. Aaron pushed him and Adrian had been too busy to comfort him. So his knees are bloodied and he's very upset. Usually, only his older brother could make him feel better, but he's not paying attention. So Ace goes to the next best thing.

His only friend.

"Oliver," he calls quietly, looking around for the other boy. "Want to, hm, want to play with, hm, me?"

Oliver likes spending time with Ace. He isn’t as loud or as rough as the other boys at his school, and he appreciates how peaceful simple play is with him. Forcefully stepping out of his comfort zone wasn’t something he needed to worry about when they were together.

So when he hears footsteps approaching and the familiar tone of voice breaks the silence, he looks up from the beetle crawling across the ground to Ace and his scraped knees. His smile falls, and he frowns as he gestures to the bleeding wound. “Why are you hurt? Do you need a band aid? I don’t want you falling and making it… badder.”

He’s still trying to improve his vocabulary.

[kristinamae093]

A Game of Love

Chapter Two — Sisters

Series Summary — A fated encounter turns into a series of secret rendezvous, despite knowing their tyrsts are forbidden. Walls stay intact and hearts remain hard, but then emotions get raw, the tangled web of royal expectations comes into play, and everything goes astray. They must confront their feelings and learn to trust again, or walk away from the second chance at everything they’d ever wanted that neither saw coming.

Pairing — Liam x F!OC (main)

A/N 1 — Set after the end of book 2 (with some minor changes). Please excuse any errors.

A/N 2 — This chapter is longer but there's a lot of backstory here. 😬 Sorry. And there's no spice but the next chapter makes up for it. Sorry again.

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Tags — @choicesficwriterscreations

Nicole Cordelia Brooks entered the world on August 23 to John and Crystal Brooks. Weighing only four pounds three ounces, she was the premature bundle of joy that brought their family to completion. Her parents and older siblings welcomed her with open arms; Jared was the oldest at twelve, followed closely behind by Riley at eight. John and Crystal longed for their last baby and after years of conception problems and miscarriages, the heavens finally granted their wish. 

Nicole was always a happy child. She ranked in the highest percentiles as a toddler and spoke full sentences well before other children her age. She was ahead of her peers in school and never acted out. Even in her earliest days, she was a social butterfly, always respectful, and her presence brightened any room with her lively spirit. 

Nicole held strong a relationship with both of her siblings, but she and Riley had an unbreakable bond. They were best friends and did everything together, despite Riley being significantly older. She and Jared were close, but nothing compared to the sisterhood she and Riley formed. Riley spent most of her teenage years playing with dolls and dressing up with Nicole; she didn’t feel the need to go out and party but was perfectly content with watching her baby sister grow up. When their mother announced her pregnancy, she prayed her little eight-year-old heart out for it to be a girl, and somebody, somewhere, listened. 

However, everything drastically changed for their family in the blink of an eye. 

Life treated Nicole and her siblings well — until it didn’t. A drunk driver wrongfully took their parents from the world on an early, rainy August morning — to be exact, on August 23rd. They were returning home from a class reunion and the driver of the opposing vehicle crossed the median. The collision was head-on, causing Crystal and John to be pronounced dead on the scene from the force of impact; the other driver walked away with only minor cuts and scrapes. 

Nicole was only ten. She woke up that morning and rushed downstairs, but didn’t find her parents with her usual birthday breakfast; waffles with strawberries and powdered sugar on top, scrambled eggs, sausage links, and orange juice with no pulp — just how she liked it. 

Instead, she found Riley at the table, but no mom and dad. 

“Riley!” Nicole exclaimed, running to jump into her sister’s lap. “You came for my birthday!” 

Riley stared into her sister’s bright olive eyes, willing her overwhelming emotions to stay at bay. “Happy birthday, Nikki…” she trailed off, dreading the impending conversion. 

Nicole might’ve been young, but she sensed her sister’s sadness. “Sissy… What’s wrong?” She touched Riley’s cheek with her tiny palms and noticed the fresh tears that slipped out. “Should I get mommy? She always makes me feel better when I’m sad.” 

The dagger sheathing itself into Riley’s chest suddenly twisted. “Nikki… We need to talk, okay? Sit down with me, and—” She started, but the sound of the patio door closing drew their attention there. 

Jared appeared, and Nicole lunged at him with a delighted gasp. Her excitement overpowered anything else, making her unaware of his tear-stained face. “Jerry!” 

Jared laughed and scooped Nicole into his arms. “Hey, squirt.” 

“Where’s M–Mary?”

Jared snorted at her pronunciation of his wife’s name. “It’s Mau-ri, and she’s at home with the baby.” Nicole opened her mouth, a wail right there on the tip of her tongue, but he halted it promptly. “They wanted to come, but we have some important things to take care of today.” He exchanged a somber glance with Riley, the tension of the unaddressed weight hanging heavily between them. “Next time I’ll bring him to play — promise.”

Nicole eagerly nodded, then squeezed her arms as tightly as she could around his neck before pulling away. “Guess what today is?!” 

Jared feigned confusion. “Hmmm… Is it — Christmas?” 

“No!” 

He tapped his finger against his chin, deep in thought. “Let me think…” He only got away with it for two seconds before Nicole tickled his armpits. “Wait! I know what it is! I surrender — I surrender!” 

Jared made a show of letting Nicole take him to the floor, the sound of her infectious giggles filling the air. He rolled around and hollered, but when he stopped, he pulled his smallest sister into his lap and hugged her close. “Happy birthday, Nic.” 

“Thank you!” She squealed. 

“Double digits, eh?” Jared smirked. 

“She’s getting old, Jer,” Riley interjected. 

“Nuh-uh!” Nicole stuck out her tongue and scrunched her face. 

“Whatever you say…” 

Nicole bolted up from Jared’s lap and out of the room before anyone could stop her. “Mommy! Daddy!” She called. The pace of her small footsteps echoed through the house until she reappeared and came to a halt, helpless confusion painted on her innocent features. 

“Where are they?” She gasped, her face morphing into the definition of excitement. “Did they leave to get cake?! I hope it’s chocolate! And ice cream! We need ice cream, too!” She shrieked. “Today is going to be the best birthday ever!”

Jared and Riley exchanged another somber look, each dreading what lay ahead. They’d spoken of how to tell Nicole, but now that they were in the moment, neither could determine how to deliver this detrimental news. Given how excited she was to celebrate her birthday, they didn’t want to shatter her world, but they couldn’t hide this from her. It would affect her the most, so she needed to know how her life was about to change. 

Finally, it was Riley who broke the tense silence. She opened her arms to Nicole with misty eyes and when she ran to her, Riley cradled her close. “We need to tell you something, Nikki…” She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddered breath, wishing she would wake from this nightmare. “There’s been an accident…”

Nicole understood what happened in vague terms, but it took years for her to comprehend the entirety of the situation. All she knew was Mommy and Daddy were not coming home, and she would live with her big sister from here on out. 

Riley was great to Nicole. She worked multiple jobs to make ends meet and often ignored her dreams to provide a sustainable life. Fresh out of high school, she accepted the great responsibility that was Nicole without hesitation and never complained, nor grumbled about it. Even though losing their parents devastated her, she knew she had to push forward for Nicole’s sake. Jared assisted with whatever she needed, but he had a family of his own to care for and was knuckle-deep in law school. Nicole would go for visits, but her home base was always with Riley. 

She and Jared tried to make Nicole’s birthday a day of celebration, but their attempts were futile. The damage was done, specifically within Nicole, who saw no reason to smile or laugh on that day. Riley tried to recreate her special breakfast, but it wasn’t Mom’s waffles, and Dad wasn’t there to sing; the reminder would always be there of the missing pieces taken too soon. All three children felt the loss heavily, but with time, Nicole’s sorrow only grew larger and stronger. 

Riley was incredibly protective of Nicole even before their parents passed, but her paranoia increased tenfold after their deaths. She had strict rules and stuck to them, even more than their parents. Riley expected her to keep her grades up and set a curfew that she adhered to. She had chores and was held responsible for ensuring their completion, and was punished when they weren’t. Nicole couldn’t go to a friend’s house unless Riley met them first and even then, she still went with her; she wanted to ensure her sister arrived and returned in one piece. 

As Nicole got older, she tested Riley’s authority. She snuck out, skipped school a handful of times, and was even picked up by the police for vandalizing an abandoned warehouse. Riley was called to the principal’s office a few times because Nicole copped an attitude with her teachers and when they asked her to stop, she took that as an invitation to make an ass out of herself. Thankfully, nothing was detrimental enough to sour her college opportunities, but Nicole undoubtedly taught Riley the definition of patience during those rebellious years. 

They had multiple screaming matches over Riley’s protectiveness. Nicole ran away a handful of times but was never gone for more than a few hours. Riley never got angry enough to throw her out, despite her sister’s defiance; she realized it was a cry for help without words. She heard her out and tried to relax, but found it difficult to let her grow up outside her safe grasp.

When she became a legal adult, Nicole tried to stay with Riley but found even then — she was still overbearing. She loved her sister more than anything but needed to breathe and live a little. Nicole enrolled in college and moved into the dorms on campus, much to Riley’s displeasure, but she bit her tongue and showed nothing but support. 

Nicole, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. College was the time of her life. The parties were unreal, and she finally got to let loose without a parental figure around. She was free to do as she pleased without a voice of reason to nag her, speak for her, or tell her what was best. Her studies always came first and her grades never suffered, but she strolled into class drunk from the night before more than she showed up sober. 

During her college days, she met plenty of guys, but in her senior year, a man named Colton joined her business finance class. He was tall, dark, incredibly handsome, and showed interest in Nicole immediately. They started dating and things grew serious rather quickly. Their chemistry was off the charts and Nicole fell head first. He was her first proper relationship and the first where she didn’t have Riley breathing down her neck, and she threw herself into him. 

They spent every spare moment together, including holiday breaks. She met his family and even brought him along with her to Riley’s, and she sang only praises. He was respectful, kind, and courteous to her sister; she undoubtedly approved of their relationship and had no complaints, even though Nicole was sure she would find something wrong with him, but to her surprise, her sister welcomed him with open arms. She hoped Colton could provide Nicole with the stability she needed, and perhaps finally tie her down. 

They graduated together, Nicole at the top of the class. She used her degree to secure a job with one of the leading financial institutions in the country, and Colton joined a small architectural business, crafting homes and other structures statewide. Things were going great — the next year they spent together, strengthening themselves and their relationship alike. Nicole believed their future was secure, but the rug of happiness she had cozied up on was yanked out from underneath her without warning.

Nicole and Colton moved in together after graduation in an apartment overlooking the busy New York streets. It was a regular Friday — except — she got off work early and stopped by their favorite cafe to grab dinner on her way home as a surprise. But when she walked inside the door to their apartment, she realized she hadn’t beaten him home as she’d hoped. She registered voices not far away and the sound drew her closer, but an anvil dropped into the pit of her stomach when she heard two people. 

Colton spoke to someone she instantly realized was a woman. 

“I love you, baby.” Colton crooned. 

“I want to believe you, but you still have that — attachment.”

Colton sighed. “I know, but I promise I’m dumping her — tonight.” 

“And then?”

“It’s just us. Once her shit is gone, that closet you’ve been eyeballing is all yours. And we’ll get that second room set up ASAP.” 

The woman laughed, and Nicole heard what she assumed was their lips smacking together. As she slowly crossed the threshold, she realized she was correct. Her heart shattered right there on the spot, but fury as she’d never felt ignited and coursed through her body. 

Nicole cleared her throat, drawing their attention to the doorway. The woman straddled Colton’s lap stark naked, right there on the couch they selected for their home together. The harlot’s eyes widened, and she sprung away from him while covering herself, but all she did was show Nicole how incredibly foolish she was, as she zeroed in on the bump protruding from the woman’s abdomen. 

She was fucking pregnant. 

Colton stood with one hand raised in surrender, the other covering his exposed genitals. “Nic, I — I can explain.” 

Nicole chortled, stalking toward him with a scowl. “Is it yours?” 

Colton swallowed thickly, the gulp echoing in the silence. “Yes…”

What little remnants of her resolve burst into flames and she blinked back tears of equal parts fury and devastation. Even though he essentially just reached into her body, yanked her heart out, and tore it to shreds, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.  

“How long?” 

“What?”

“HOW LONG have you been fucking this WHORE?!” 

Colton winced at her volume. “I know you’re upset, but—” 

Nicole suddenly grabbed a vase perched on the mantle and launched it toward the woman, narrowly missing her. “HOW FUCKING LONG, COLTON?!” 

“Since last year…” He quietly answered. 

“Last year?” Nicole mimicked in disbelief. “So you’re what — getting your dick wet while planning a future with me?! Or is it the other way around? Am I the other woman in this situation?!” 

“No, that’s not it.” He reasoned. “I promise I can explain—” 

“FUCK. YOU!”

And that was all Nicole remembered. She woke up later in a jail cell to see Jared and Riley, both waiting with disappointed faces. Jared was a lawyer — a damn good one — and got her off the charges Colton tried to press after she destroyed everything. She never went back for her belongings but saw pictures of the damages. She left nothing in one piece — she even launched his grandmother’s urn out the window. Her rage and hurt took over and caused her to black out — she had no recollection of it happening. 

Nicole went back to Riley’s after that, begrudgingly. She didn’t particularly want to but decided perhaps her sister’s company would be better than wallowing alone in her pity. Her presence helped, but in the stillness of her solitude, her self-loathing took over. 

Alcohol became her friend, her closest confidant. She spiraled into a deep pit of depression because she felt completely blindsided. She and Colton were great together, and she couldn’t understand why she wasn’t enough or where it went wrong. Nicole treated him well and always tried to be the best girlfriend she could be. Their apartment was spotless; she cooked him dinner every night, let him have his time with his friends, sucked him off regularly and their sex life wasn’t lacking whatsoever — she did everything right, and yet, she was left broken in the end. 

She drowned her sorrows in the brown bottle, some days from sun up to sun down. Riley tried to intervene, but Nicole refused to talk about it. Multiple fights broke out from her persistent pushing until Riley finally got the message and stopped. She realized although her sister was hurting, she couldn’t force her to express her pain. It was hard to witness, but she couldn’t control her anymore, especially when, by all technicalities, Nicole was following her new stipulations. 

The rules were simple — keep the bullshit outside. Nicole couldn’t bring people over without proper notice, and it had to be someone Riley knew beforehand. She had the freedom to drink, but Riley forbade her from getting belligerent, and she had to have a job to contribute towards food and bills. They had a strict one a.m. lock time; if Nicole wasn’t home, she found somewhere else to stay for the night. Riley often worked doubles at the bar and was not a happy camper when her sleep got disrupted. 

Nicole adhered to every request and never tested her authority. 

Nicole would bounce around from bar to bar but avoided the one Riley worked at. Most of her friends were mutual with Colton because she threw herself into him and lost all contact with her friends, which meant most of her ventures were lone ones. If Daniel wasn’t working he went with her, but Nicole always had a guard up around him. He was incredibly close to Riley and worked alongside her; she considered him her friend, but her trust in his discretion was minimal and she never fully let him in.  

She mostly drank during her outings but picked up a fun game she started playing with herself. Men flocked to her and her assets — they wanted her. On rare occasions, she went home with them, but her enjoyment came from the cat-and-mouse game — the chase. She’d sashay around in her tight, low-cut dresses all night with a line of suitors behind, begging and pleading to take her home. They paid for her drinks and in return, she gave them an hour or two of her undivided attention. Nicole wouldn’t even let them kiss her; she’d let them get handsy for a bit during dances — sometimes under the table — but only a select few were gifted a night with her. 

It was nothing but a tease — watching the spirit leave their eyes when she let them down filled a gaping hole inside her chest, even if only for the moment. 

It was not always a safe game to play — sometimes Nicole ended up in dangerous situations because of her antics. Rowdy, drunken men twice her size pushed her luck a few times, but thankfully, bystanders always intervened before anything serious could happen.

With time, she slowed down a bit, but never fully stopped. Riley knew these things happened at night but during the day, she was Nikki again; smiling, laughing, and joking like she used to. But once the sun sat, the gloves came off and Nicole left to play. 

When Riley’s life changed, Nicole was undoubtedly happy for her. The day Maxwell extended his offer, Riley burst through the door, more excited than Nicole had ever seen her, but her elation faded as she realized what she would leave behind. 

“Nikki… I don’t have to go…” Riley softly spoke.  

Despite her words, Nicole knew how eager she was. “What? Why wouldn’t you?!”

“I don’t wanna leave you here all alone…”

“Riley — I’m not alone. Jared is around and Daniel lives right down the hall.” 

“You could come with me…” Riley hopefully suggested. 

Nicole gave her a sad smile. “I love you, but — no. This isn’t a journey meant for me and I have a career here — I’m up for a promotion soon and I’ve worked too hard to give that up.”

“I — I know…” Riley dejectedly sighed. “But—”

“No,” Nicole stopped her. “You’ve spent all this time worrying about me and ensuring I had everything I needed. You deserve this, Riley. I want you to be happy — if this is what you want to do, then do it.” She picked up her cell phone and held it up. “Plus, these things exist now.”

Riley tearfully chuckled. She tried to contain her growing excitement, but it was to no avail. “Are you sure? I’ll stay. This is probably crazy, anyway… To run off with some guy I don’t even know…”

Nicole laughed. “You gotta live a little at some point, Riley. Otherwise, your tombstone is going to say, ‘Here lies Riley, the woman whose crotch sewed itself back up’.”

“Hey!” Riley swatted at her sister but soon fiddled with the zipper of her hoodie. “... You really think I should go?”

“Yes! And I swear — if I go over twelve hours without hearing from you, I will be on the next flight to Cornucopia with the fucking FBI and CIA and whoever else I can wrangle.”

Riley howled with laughter. “It’s Cordonia.”

“Tomato, tomato.” Nicole snickered. “Enough logistics! Let's get you packed!” 

During the social season, they spoke all the time on the phone; daily, unless their schedules conflicted. However, Nicole knew from the conversing topics early on, that her sister seemed to have her eyes set on a different prize, but Riley wouldn’t admit it. The scandal reached the States and circulated for a bit, but Nicole’s preoccupation with her own games prevented her from paying much attention. She saw a few articles regarding the matter, but it drifted to the back of her mind. Riley cried to her on the phone for days on end, practically begging to come home, but Nicole convinced her to stay on more than one occasion. 

The engagement tour was when Nicole really noticed Riley’s attention shift. She mentioned the king rarely; instead, her focus was on a woman named Hana. How beautiful and smart she was, her vibrant smile, even down to the way her dress flowed in her wake when she walked. Her sister was falling in love, and it elated Nicole that Riley was finding her slice of happiness. She didn’t admit her feelings until Nicole bluntly asked about it; they talked it out, and she helped Riley slowly embrace her true identity. 

The court came to New York and as much as it killed them, Nicole was out of town for that visit. She was in Fort Lauderdale at a mandatory seminar and, because of the court’s tight schedule, they did not get to see each other. Riley called her the night the king proposed and Nicole talked her through her guilt over breaking his heart. Nicole reminded her that although she initially went for him, she was very much single this entire time; she encouraged her to do what felt right. 

Riley became a duchess and Nicole got promoted within her company. Their schedules were busier than ever and they rarely had the chance to connect in person. Riley made a few more trips home, where Nicole got to see her and meet Hana, but she had yet to make the trip to Cordonia to witness her sister in her new element. 

That changed when Riley called to tell her she was engaged. The sisters screeched into the phone together for a long while, Hana even joining in as well. Nicole patiently counted down the days, took leave, and set out on her international adventure. Jared would come right before the wedding, but Nicole wanted to be there for all the events that would happen beforehand. 

Riley described the perfect playground, only with a whole new set of players. 

After the excitement faded, Riley was quick to set some ground rules. Nicole had to behave while she was there, to not cause some kind of scandal. The joining of two noble women was unprecedented in itself, and Riley didn’t want anything going wrong; Nicole had to watch her step. Riley knew she could achieve the task, but it was up to Nicole to decide she wanted to. 

Nicole didn’t intend on immediately messing up, but then a tall, intoxicating man walked up and said all the right words. Her body lit like a Christmas tree, an immediate reaction to his advances. The game was still afoot, but this was one occurrence where she gave in to temptation. 

How was she supposed to know the king, her sister’s close, personal friend, hit the streets? When he told her he was the monarch, she almost died laughing, but at that point, he could’ve been Barney — either way, the results would’ve been the same. It wasn’t until she Googled his name that she recalled his face in those articles, and Riley mentioning his name.  

She knew — she fucked up. 

Riley still spoke of Liam, but mostly just a few words here and there. She didn’t mention the king was a certified freak, or that he dressed in the opposite of his social position. Nicole didn’t know how Riley would react if she found out, but she wasn’t willing to take that chance. She knew how her big sister used to be, but hoped perhaps her new home and love would calm her a bit. 

Deep down, she realized that would never happen. 

It was inevitable that she would come face-to-face with Liam at some point, and Nicole wasn’t sure what would happen at that moment, either. Would he play it off as if nothing happened? Pretend he’d never seen her? She didn’t know him, so she couldn’t determine how he would handle the situation. 

Regardless, it would be their secret — Riley could never know. 

That morning, Nicole was to set off for Valtoria. Riley and Hana were called to a last-minute meeting and were out of the country for a few days. They offered Nicole the duchy until they returned, but she turned them down, as she wanted to explore the country her sister hyped up independently. She got herself a hotel in the capital for the time they would be gone, but now wished she would’ve just gone straight to Valtoria instead. 

None of this would’ve happened, and she wouldn’t be nearly bursting with anxiety; not knowing when she would have to face her extraordinarily talented lover and the secret that would then dangle over both of their heads. 

Riley, Hana and their small group of peers anxiously awaited the honored guest’s arrival. As soon as they decided to get married, Riley knew there was no way she would even entertain the idea without her sister. She looked forward to the next couple of weeks and secretly hoped Nicole would fall in love with the country and want to stay. 

Riley enjoyed her life in Cordonia but longed to have Nicole near. Perhaps it was her protective nature, but she felt incomplete without her and often lay awake at night worrying about her. Of course, she missed Jared as well, but she and Nicole had a much stronger bond. She wanted nothing more than to have her sister around all the time, to bring her life in Cordonia to completion. 

However, that also brought great anxiety. Nicole was a sweet, genuine person, but Riley knew she made some poor decisions after Colton decimated her heart. It wasn’t so much her image she stressed about — although it was a contributing factor — but she worried about all these men being around her baby sister. She could take care of herself, but the nobility was a different ballpark; she didn’t want Nicole to get into a bad situation that could get plastered for the world to see, just as she had.  

Riley gave warnings to the men in her immediate circle — Nikki was off limits. It wasn’t Maxwell she was worried about, nor Drake, but Liam specifically. He bedded anything with a pulse; Nicole would not appear on that lengthy list. She wouldn’t allow him to use her in that way, monarch or not. Drake or Maxwell could receive the chance at some point, but Liam would not. She loved him like a brother, but Nicole was blood; she would not be another notch on his bedpost. 

Riley felt guilty about what happened between her and Liam for a long time, and sometimes still does. Eventually, she realized she really hadn’t led him on, but that only eased her aching conscience so much. They were never intimate, only kissed one or two times toward the beginning of the social season, and Riley never reciprocated when he said I love you; she would tell him she wasn’t ready for that. 

Yet, he still proposed. 

She was stunned and genuinely didn’t understand why he asked. Yes, he needed a wife to make his queen, but Riley made it clear to him early on — that wasn’t what she was interested in. The crown meant nothing, and she wasn’t willing to compromise her happiness for a job she didn’t want. She tried — time and time again — to make herself love him but at the end of the day, he wasn’t her. 

She and Hana hid their relationship for quite a while; not from everyone, just Liam. In the aftermath of his heartbreak, they didn’t want to throw salt into the still-open wound. When they announced their engagement, Liam told them he supported their union and would happily be the one to marry them, but they knew he still held some kind of resentment. Everyone got along and was good friends, but sometimes the tension thickened — a constant reminder that the past would always be there. 

“Is she here yet?!” Maxwell exclaimed, dragging Riley out of her daze. 

Riley chuckled. “Not yet.” Maxwell bounced in place, thrumming from his enormous amount of energy. “Calm down, Max. I think you’re more excited than I am.” 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?! It’s another freakin’ blossom!” 

Drake sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Why did you want him here for this?” He addressed Riley. 

“Because I want to give her a warm welcome with all of my favorite people.” 

Drake snickered. “Guess that explains why Liam isn’t here.” 

“That’s not it. I invited him, but he had a meeting…” Drake stared at Riley with a knowing expression for only a moment before she pleaded, “It’s not!” 

Drake snickered. “Calm down, Brooks. I get it…” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah.” Drake nodded. “Trust me, if Savannah wasn’t with good ol’ Bertie, I would’da put a chastity belt on her long ago — no fucking way would I let him anywhere near her.” 

Riley laughed. “I’m glad someone understands, but that doesn’t mean you have permission, either — just so we’re clear.” 

Drake raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not me you gotta worry about… Or twinkle toes over there.” 

“Hey!” Maxwell yelled. 

“I’m just sayin’. She’s safe around us, but King Condom is a different story.” 

Riley sighed. Her face fell and guilt took over as she thought about Liam’s changes. She knew she was the one who did that and regardless of what everyone tried to reassure her with, she still felt responsible. 

Hana approached and lightly stroked her shoulders. “Don’t do that… We’ve been down this road a million times… You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, Brooks… You didn’t do that.” Drake agreed. 

“He’s just so — different now… Like, the Liam who wanted me to love him left when he found out I didn’t love him…” Riley trailed off, staring down at her shoes. 

“No, he chose to react how he did. That’s a grown-ass man who made his own decisions.” 

“I know… I just—” 

Maxwell cut Riley off. “My beautiful, beautiful blossom…” He grasped her shoulders as Hana’s hands fell away. “You’re such a genuine person, but I promise you, whatever is going on with Liam is not your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself!” 

Riley let out a heavy breath. “I’m just hoping I can keep him and Nikki apart while she’s here. That would be toxic in every way… Two players trying to play each other.” 

“I’m sure he’ll behave. He’s got plenty of — entertainment elsewhere, so I think she’s safe.” Hana agreed with a warm smile. 

“A female version of this toxic masculine Liam, huh?” Drake asked, amusement written on his features. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to let them—” 

Maxwell suddenly rushed to the window, his eyes glued to the vehicle approaching. “She’s here! She’s here!” 

“Goddamnit, Beaumont,” Drake grumbled. “Do you gotta be so loud?” 

“Yes, I do. Otherwise, you might think something was wrong with me!” 

“Wouldn’t want that, of course.” Drake rolled his eyes. “Just try to be fucking normal for two seconds, would ya?”

Maxwell put his hands on his hips and faced Drake with utter seriousness. “What’s the baseline for normal, Drake? Who are you to tell me what’s ‘not normal’?” He air quoted. “Just because I don’t walk around flipping my hair, talking about bar-b-que—” 

“GUYS,” Hana interjected. She cleared her throat and smoothed out her dress with a polite smile. “Please refrain from — that.” 

Before Maxwell or Drake could respond, the sounds of loud, ear-piercing screeches filled the air. At the door, Riley jumped and hugged a redhead, spinning her around in circles. They could tell she was smaller than Riley and had a lighter, more intense shade of copper hair, but couldn’t get a good look at her face. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Riley exclaimed with tears of joy. 

“Are you kidding?! Like I would miss this!” Nicole responded with glistening eyes to match. 

“I can’t wait to show you everything. All my favorite places — oh!” Riley suddenly stepped away. “I found this food truck that makes the best nachos around… Very close to Ernesto’s.” 

“Nobody does it like he can, but you had me at nacho.” The sisters giggled before embracing each other once again.

“Seriously, Nikki… I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m so happy to see you that for just this once, I’ll allow you to call me Nikki.” Nicole stepped away with a shudder. 

“Oh, I’m calling you Nikki the entire time.” 

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Riley, I’m not seven anymore — stop.” She glanced around at the massive estate. “You failed to mention that your house is actually a fucking castle. Does your mote have alligators in it?”

Riley snorted. “Not yet, but it’s fairly high on my to-do list.”

“A-hem.” A throat exaggeratedly cleared behind them, as Maxwell could no longer wait for his presence to be known. “Are you going to introduce us to the infamous Nikki?”

Nicole centered a death glare on her elder sister. “I’m just going to assume that everyone thinks my name is Nikki, thanks to you.” 

“How about those introductions?” Riley deflected with an innocent smile, as she led Nicole to the foyer where everyone waited. “You remember Hana?” 

“Of course!” Nicole exclaimed as she pulled Hana into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you again soon-to-be sister!” 

“You as well! We’re elated that you’re able to be here with us. We wouldn’t dream of having it any other way.” 

Nicole stepped away with an excited grin, and Riley continued down the line. “This is Maxwell. He’s—” 

“The absolute best.” He finished for her. “Master dancer, Lord DJ, the Squid King, tour guide extraordinaire—” 

“Dear God, if you’re listening, please take me from this madness…” Drake huffed, his head turned to the ceiling. 

Before Maxwell could retort, Riley quickly finished. “And that’s Drake.” 

Nicole snorted. “Makes sense.” 

“Whaddya mean?” Drake inquired with an arched brow. 

“Just seems like something you’d say, judging from what Riley told me.” 

“Oh, yeah?” When Nicole nodded, Drake continued. “What’d she tell you?” 

“Snarky, loyal to a fault.” 

Drake smirked. “Damn straight.” 

“She mentioned something about a marshmallow, though…” 

Drake sighed. “Seriously, Brooks? People I don’t even know think I’m some — soft glob of—” 

“I consider you to be a s’more.” Maxwell interrupted. 

“And what does that mean?” 

“What everyone else thinks, but with an added stick up your butt,” He stated, very matter-of-factly.

Nicole busted out with belly giggles. “That’s great. Do they do this all the time?” She asked Riley and Hana, as Drake and Maxwell went off into a fit of bickers. 

“Yep,” Hana answered. 

“Brotherly love,” Riley added with a smile. 

“I can see why you keep them around… They’re certainly — entertaining…” Nicole trailed off. 

Nicole took the distraction as an opportunity to check the men out with a hungry gaze. Drake immediately caught her eye, as he was more her typical ‘type’; tall, dark, and broad, with an air of mystery. She could tell underneath all that denim, he was packing. Not just in the nether regions, but she didn’t need to see him shirtless to know he was in immaculate shape — although, she wouldn’t complain about the view if the situation arose. 

She zeroed in on Maxwell and, although he was a tad shorter, he was just as chiseled. He spoke with his entire body, leaving very little to the imagination. Easy on the eyes and obviously a dork; she wondered if that facade would slip away when things got heated, or if he was that much of a goof in the bedroom as well. She imagined putting that question to the test and her little five-second fantasy nearly made her thighs quiver.

Riley noticed Nicole’s lustrous gaze fixated on her friends and swiftly threaded her arm through hers. “Let’s go have a drink, shall we?” 

Nicole nodded and the trio of women left Drake and Maxwell, arguing amongst themselves. Neither was aware they were now alone until Drake’s phone vibrated, momentarily halting their altercation.

Drake pulled out his device, but Maxwell immediately grew worried as he took in his surroundings. “Where is everyone? Did they leave?” He gasped and held a hand over his heart. “Was there a welcome party, and they didn’t tell me?!” 

“Max, SHUSH,” Drake grumbled as he typed out a text. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, but…” 

“Drake, you know how I am with suspense. Tell me now, or — well, there is no or, just — tell me now.”

“Calm the fuck down… It’s Liam…” 

“What about him?” 

“He said he’s going to make it after all… He’s almost here.” 

In one of the sitting rooms not far away, Riley, Hana, and Nicole enjoyed their drinks. The conversation easily flowed between them as they caught up on the time they’d spent apart. Nicole spoke of her job, Jared, Daniel, and anything else she could think of. Riley and Hana excitedly told her about their life in Valtoria, the wedding arrangements, and the governance changes they intended to make. However, Riley knew she needed to address the gigantic elephant in the room. 

“Nikki…”

Nicole sighed. “That name, again.” 

Riley smiled at her sister’s annoyance. “Listen, I don’t want to be overbearing, but we need to revisit the rules.” 

Nicole visibly tensed, her anxiety skyrocketing. “What do you mean? I just got here. I haven’t even had the chance to do anything bad yet…” She nervously chuckled, uncomfortably shifting in her seat. 

Riley gave her an unsure glance. “I know that… But seriously, Nicole, please behave. No trysts, no games, none of that. You don’t know these people like I do — this is not New York anymore.” 

“I’m aware, Riley. I’m not an animal — I can control myself.” Nicole quickly retorted while ignoring her conscience, knowing what she’d already done. 

“I know you aren’t, Nikki, that’s not what I’m saying, but some people here are — undeniably charming, okay? Don’t fall for it.” 

Nicole swore she could feel every drop of sweat as it profusely poured down her forehead. “Is there someone in particular you’re speaking of?” She nonchalantly asked, but something told her she already knew the answer. 

“No.” Riley swiftly returned. “It’s a general rule that applies to anyone you meet here — understood?” 

“Yes, mother.” Nicole playfully retorted, hoping to ease some of Riley’s obvious worries. “I promise I will behave — cross my heart.” 

“Good…” Riley’s eyes softened. “How are you doing?” 

“I told you — I just got another promotion, Daniel is fine, Jared is—” 

“No, that’s not what I’m asking. How are you, Nikki?” 

“I’m fine, Riley. Things are… Okay, I guess.” She shrugged. “I just go to work and go home…” 

“And…” 

Nicole rolled her eyes and let out a small huff. “Don’t do this. I’m an adult and I can spend my time how I wish. I’m safe, nothing has happened—” 

“Yet.”

“Do you want to have this argument now? Right when I walk in the door?” 

Riley sighed. “No, I don’t… I’m sorry, I just — I worry about you.” 

“I know, but don’t. I am fine.” 

“Whatever you say…” 

“How are you two lovebirds doing?” Nicole deflected, hoping to shift the attention off of herself. 

Riley and Hana shared a flushed grin as they reached for the other’s hand. Nicole smiled to herself, undeniably happy her sister found her soulmate. 

“Great,” Riley answered. “I’m so excited to get married already. Planning this wedding has been a task in itself, but it’ll be worth it in the end…” she trailed off, gazing deeply into Hana’s eyes as if she saw the entire world mirrored back. 

“Awww… I would gag, but I’m just so fucking happy for you.” Nicole interrupted their moment with a laugh. 

“Thank you, Nicole. Again, we’re so happy you could be here with us.” Hana spoke with a warm grin. “I consider myself blessed every day that I'll get to call your sister my wife, but my heart is overjoyed from the family I'll gain too.”

“There is something I wanted to ask you…” Riley trailed off with radiating excitement, as she practically bounced in place. 

“Okay…” Nicole unsurely answered. 

“I wanted to know if you would be my maid of honor… I know it’s last minute but it’s the only role left to be filled and there is no one else I want in that spot, but I wanted to ask in person—” 

“Yes, yes, YES!” Nicole screeched. 

Riley rose from her seat with a squeal and engulfed Nicole in a tight hug. She briefly lifted her feet off the floor as she spun her around, but dropped her and extended a hand to Hana. “Get in here!” 

Hana did as told and their revelry turned into a circle, as they held hands and joyfully jumped around. After a long moment and a lot of hugs, they stepped away and sat back down, each taking a breath to calm their excitement. 

Nicole finally spoke after a few minutes of content silence. “So, tell me more about the wedding. Who is coming from back home? When will Jared be here? Is Daniel—” 

Maxwell suddenly burst through the door and somersaulted, landing with his hands on his hips. 

“Wow.” Nicole clapped with wide eyes. “Impressive.” 

“Don’t encourage it,” Drake pleaded as he entered behind Maxwell. “Uh, Brooks… Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked while rubbing the back of his neck. 

Riley shot up from her seat as she took in his nervous demeanor. They made it out of the room, and Drake closed the doors before turning around to face her. “... Have you checked your phone lately?” 

“No…” Riley unsurely returned as she retrieved her device from her pocket. She unlocked the screen and saw multiple missed calls from Liam and a few texts, and her face drained of color. “Oh, no…” 

“Yeah…” 

“I thought he had a meeting! I extended the invitation after he told me he was busy!” 

“He said it got canceled…” Riley instantly started to pace in front of Drake, her anxiety clear as day. “Brooks, calm down… I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Ya can’t keep ‘em apart forever, you know…” 

“I know that,” Riley bit out. “But I don’t want them to end up hurting each other, Drake. I can barely live with myself because of what I did to Liam. If he ends up hurting Nicole because of what I did to him, then—” 

“Woah woah woah — back that shit up. You already know my opinion on the Liam ordeal, but you're making a lot of conclusions here…” He trailed off with a knowing look. “Listen… Has he made some questionable decisions? Sure. But — he’s still Liam.”

“I know… I know… I’m just… Being overprotective, I guess…” She responded as she bit her nails. 

“Stop doing that.” Drake gently pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to get married and it’ll be peaceful and beautiful and all that other frilly bullshit.” 

Despite her unease, Riley chuckled. “Thank you, Drake. You’re a great friend.” 

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t be, considering even your sister thinks I’m a fucking marshmallow already. You know this means I’ll have to step up my asshole game, right? Thatta’ way she doesn’t think I’m warm and inviting.” He shuddered. 

“Just don’t take it too far otherwise I’ll have to intervene, and trust me — you won’t like me when I have to go into momma-bear mode.” She innocently smiled and batted her lashes, but her expression sent a shiver down Drake’s spine. She looked sweet but those eyes told a completely different story, causing him to swallow thickly and reassess the usually gentle being before him.

Before Drake could respond, Gladys appeared in the hallway with a bow. “Your Grace, His Majesty just arrived and is being settled.” 

“Thank you, Gladys…” Riley quietly answered with an audible gulp. 

Drake patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Brooks. I’m sure he’s going to be on his best behavior.” 

[kamyru]

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, and Fluff lyrics that match 'Oops! I Said Yes?!' characters

Ukyo Senkawa

Angst:

Remember all the things we wanted Now all our memories, they're haunted We were always meant to say goodbye - Already Gone, by Sleeping at Last

Hurt/Comfort:

I wanna taste love and pain Wanna feel pride and shame I don't wanna take my time Don't wanna waste one line I wanna live better days Never look back and say It could have been me - Could Have Been Me, by The Struts

Fluff:

I'm hooked on a feeling I'm high on believing That you're in love with me Lips as sweet as candy It's taste is on my mind Girl, you got me thirsty For another cup of wine - Hooked on a Feeling, by Blue Swede

Togo Daimon

Angst:

Five years wasted, I'm still young But only by a couple months And then I'm dead for all intents and purposes And I've been slower than I thought At getting my life off the rocks Nobody thinks I'm special yet Nobody thinks I'm special yet - Times Comes in Roses, by Bess Atwell

Hurt/Comfort:

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine - Dandelions, by Ruth B

Fluff:

You got my attention, so what's your intention? Yeah, tell me, baby, what's the deal? One look and I know it, baby, my eyes reveal That you give me the feels - The Feels, by Twice

Kunihiro Kasai

Angst:

Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains - Dollhouse, by Melanie Martinez

Hurt/Comfort:

There's something tragic, but almost pure Think I could love you, but I'm not sure - broken, by lovelytheband

Fluff:

So expect me to be Calling you to see If you're okay when I'm not around Asking "if you love me" I love the way you make it sound Calling you to see Do I try too hard to make you smile? - Calling You, by Blue October

Kuranosuke Kiba

Angst:

And then you say to me you made a dumb mistake You start to tremble and your voice begins to break You say the cigarettes on the counter weren't your friend's they were my mate's And I feel the color draining from my face - Be Alright, by Dean Lewis

Hurt/Comfort:

I'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost If I'm asking for help it's only because Being with you has opened my eyes Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise? - All The Things She Said, by t.A.T.u.

I was selfish Couldn't help it But I still care about you, now I know I'm stubborn But I still think about you 'Cause maybe it was me I just couldn't see But maybe it was me who fucked it up Or maybe it was us So helpless and young Or maybe everything was all my fault And I regret All the times Of leaving you, in the back of my mind 'Cause maybe it was me And I just couldn't see But maybe it was me - Maybe It Was Me, by Sody

Fluff:

I'm not sure you know That the reason I love you Is you being you, just you Yeah, the reason I love you Is all that we've been through And that's why I love you - I Love You, by Avril Lavigne

Eiji Takao

Angst:

I fell down to Earth From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work But it's overrated and somehow played out - Alien Boy, by Oliver Tree

Hurt/Comfort:

Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry? - Fourth of July, by Sufjan Stevens

Fluff:

I like the way you try so hard when you play ball with your friends I like the way you hit the notes in every song, you're shining I love the little things, like when you're unaware I catch you steal a glance and smile so perfectly Though sometimes when life brings me down You're the cure, my love In a bad rainy day You take all the worries away - I Like You so Much, You'll Know It, by Ysabelle Ceuvas

Shu Hasunuma

Angst:

I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul I want you to notice When I'm not around So fuckin' special I wish I was special - Creep, by Radiohead

Hurt/Comfort:

Are you falling in love Or only feeling you are? 'Cause if you're falling in love Let me feel it - A New Kind of Love, by Frou Frou

Fluff:

I'm always on your team, I got your back alright Taking those losses if it treats you right I want to put you into the spotlight - Follow You, by Imagine Dragons

P.S. The hardest was to find lyrics for the 'Fluff' part, because out of 850 songs from my Spotify account (that's 52 h 38 min), probably 700 are sad or borderline sad songs.

[tumbleweed-palmer]

might I request Victoria going to prom and Jimmy having a rough time with his girl growing up, and reader comforts him?

Jimmy felt terrible to admit it but he felt his heart sink despite the excitement of the familiar voice on the other end of his cell phone call.

He was thankful that it hadn’t been a facetime call as he was sure his sixteen year old daughter would not take the clearly sour look on his face well. She sounded so delighted he didn't want to crush her excitement.

He leaned back against the unoccupied Autopsy table, his head feeling light and his knees feeling wobbly as he listened to Victoria prattle on about the amazing dress she’d spotted at the mall. He tried to focus on the words pink, sequins, and tulle. His brain spun, he suddenly feeling so overwhelmed.

He felt his throat grow tight as Victoria finally stopped obsessing over the dress she fast to speak her words flying from her mouth quickly; she clearly overexcited. “So do you think Y/N will have the time this weekend to go to the mall? She said as soon as I found the dress to let her know. Prom is literally next month so I have to get a dress soon.”

He felt his throat grow all the tighter as he responded only half joking. “What, you don’t want your dear old dad to go watch you try on dresses again?”

Victoria let out an overdramatic groan, she fast to reply. “No offense, Dad, but the last time I let you come with me to buy a formal gown you kept picking out dresses that looked like something Nana would wear.”

Jimmy let out a small huff wanting to point out that the dresses he’d chosen had been perfectly appropriate for an eighth grade formal. He kept his lips sealed though knowing he didn’t want to go down that road with his daughter.

He was proud to say that sixteen year old Victoria Elizabeth Palmer was not afraid to speak her mind, even when that meant occasionally stomping on her father’s spirits.

Dr. James Palmer had raised his daughter to be a confident and outspoken young lady who was never afraid to say how she felt and fight for what she wanted. She was always so quick to want to do the right thing. He’d raised her to be an intelligent and driven young lady who was equally compassionate and kind.

As proud as he was of his daughter’s outspoken ways, Jimmy could admit occasionally he missed the days where her vocabulary had been limited to the words Dada, Momma, Doggie, Yay, and No.

He felt his heart sink as Victoria spoke totally unaware that she was kicking her dad while he was down. “I tried calling Y/N so I could ask her myself, but she must have her phone silenced because I couldn’t get ahold of her. So, I thought I’d call you since you may see her before I do.”

Jimmy scowled a little voice in the back of his head pointing out that he wasn’t even Victoria’s first choice of who to call. He was just the messenger for her to pass along a request to her stepmother.

“I think she’s been busy settling in the new intern up in Legal. I’m sure she’ll call you back when she sees the missed call.” He responded keeping the bitter tone from his voice.

He took a deep breath reminding himself that it wasn’t anything personal. She was a teenage girl. When it came to things like shopping she much preferred to ask the maternal figure in her life. There were just some things she didn’t want to go to her father for.

Victoria was fast to speak up again. “You guys aren’t working late again right? I really don’t want Nana to be in charge of dinner. She always takes us to Olive Garden because Henry and Harper will at least eat spaghetti and it’s better than eating at McDonalds.  I can’t eat Olive Garden again Dad. I can only do never-ending breadsticks so many times.”

Jimmy smirked slightly at the overdramatics. He was sure he’d never get over how his daughter took everything as being so serious; even her four year old half siblings' limited palette when it came to dinner requests.

“I can’t promise I won’t have to work late, but I don’t think Y/N has any cases to prepare for court that are currently demanding late nights. So, I think you’re in the clear. Knowing Y/N you guys will wind up eating Chinese takeout if I have to work late.” Jimmy reassured her already knowing his wife’s go to dinner option if he had a late night with an unexpected case.

“I hope so, I’d rather do Sesame chicken again than another unlimited soup and salad night with Nana. I'm serious Dad, I can't keep trying to smile through another night of chicken parmigiana so I don't hurt Nana's feelings.” Victoria insisted, not putting away the dramatics for even a moment.

She was fast to speak up again, her voice tired. “Anyway my lunch hour is almost over. So, I gotta go.”

Jimmy resisted the urge to scold her for even using her cell phone at school but he kept his lips sealed barely having a chance to say a goodbye before the call ended.

He shoved his cellphone back into the pocket of his scrub pants, his stomach churning and his throat still feeling so tight.

He hated this.

He didn’t have long to stew in his own personal pity party because the doors to Autopsy slid open the very person his daughter and he had just gotten finished discussing entering the room.

She didn’t look up from the form she was holding her voice revealing how exhausted and annoyed she was. “Jimmy, I need you to sign this court order again stating that NCIS and you as Chief Medical Examiner are requesting exhumation on Petty Officer Lewis Jones’ body so I can file it with the courts and get the ball rolling. The intern forgot a few forms when I sent him down with this earlier. Agent Torres has already called me twice asking if the forms are ready to go to the courts yet. Apparently McGee and Agent Knight are growing antsy thinking that Jones’ widow is going to leave the country before you have a chance to do an autopsy on her first late husband’s body and compare it to her current late husband’s body.”

She looked up as she finished her statement, a frown crossing her features at the obvious distress written all over her husband’s face.

She felt her heart sink her brain automatically jumping to all the worst possible conclusions. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? You look like you’re about to cry. Is it the kids? I saw Victoria called earlier but I haven’t had a chance to see if she left me a voicemail.”

Jimmy let out a small sigh hating that he was so transparent. “Victoria thinks she found, in her words, the perfect prom dress. She wants you to go with her this weekend so she can try it on. I think the money my mom gave her for a prom dress is burning a hole in her pocket.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile from crossing her lips despite the current dampened mood her husband seemed to be in.

She had come into Jimmy and Victoria Palmer’s lives when Victoria was eight years old.

It hadn’t been the most traditional meeting.

Jimmy Palmer had still been struggling with the death of his late wife, Victoria’s mother, Breena.

He’d thought that he was really ready to move on. He’d even tried going out on a couple of dates, but it had all felt so wrong. He’d felt like he was doing something wrong. He’d been unable to stop talking about Breena on these dates.

It was obvious to Jimmy Palmer that he was still struggling. His therapist had suggested that he attend a grief share group. She’d recommended one in Jimmy’s area. She’d insisted to him that it would be healthy for him to talk to others who may be experiencing the same thing he was going through.

So, he’d started going to the grief share meetings.

That was where he’d met Y/N Y/L/N. She was a widow and much like Jimmy, her spouse had died quite suddenly and she’d never felt as though she truly had a chance to say goodbye.

Her husband had been in the military and had been stationed overseas. They hadn’t been married for very long but they’d been high school sweethearts who had reconnected in their thirties.He’d been living separately from her on a base in South Korea, given her father  had been ill and it wouldn’t feel right for Y/N to leave her as her mother was deceased and she had been her father’s only child.

Y/N’s husband had died in an automobile accident while in South Korea. She'd admitted that she'd been prepared to possibly lose him due to the danger that went along with his military service, but she'd not been prepared for something like a car crash to kill him. It had been so unexpected and she’d struggled to deal with the loss.

Jimmy and she had connected on that feeling of sudden loss.

They’d had a lot in common as far as their failed attempts at dating again. Jimmy had felt really connected to Y/N when she’d spoken of her failed attempts at moving on.

She’d had a hard time dating people and had felt that they didn’t understand that she still loved her husband despite the fact that he was deceased. She felt that people acted as though she was moving too slowly through her grief. She resented that people had time with their spouses and they didn't even appreciate it. She had admitted she was struggling to adjust to the thought of life without her husband. Those words had resonated with Jimmy as he’d occasionally felt the same way.

He’d listened his heart aching as she recalled one date she’d had where the guy kept referring to her late husband as her ex, and she’d wound up chewing the guy out stating that her late husband and she had still been married, so he was no ex.

They had only spoken at grief share and had only spoken about their loss and their experiences surrounding that loss.

There hadn’t been romantic feelings at first. At first they’d just felt connected over loss and grief. It felt good knowing someone else was having the same thoughts and experiences.

They hadn’t expected to meet outside of grief share meetings.

They certainly hadn’t expected to meet the way they had.

Kasie had been the connecting force behind them meeting outside of grief share.

Kasie and Jimmy had a Sunday morning brunch routine at least twice a month.

Kasie had requested the chance to bring a new friend she’d made, who worked at NCIS in the legal department, to one of these Sunday morning brunches.

Jimmy had never been expecting Y/N to be that new friend.

Things had been awkward at first especially given they’d had to confess to Kasie how they already knew one another.

Overall, though Y/N had been a nice addition to the Sunday morning brunches.

They’d formed a friendship, finally finding things to discuss outside of their grief.

They’d crossed the line into romance slowly. It had been a year of friendship before Jimmy had made a first move.

He’d been terrified when his lips had met hers for the first time. It had been New Years Eve and Kasie had invited them for a night on the town.

His mom had taken Victoria out of town to visit Jimmy’s sister. So he’d taken a chance to have a grown up night out with friends.

He’d wanted to blame it on the champagne but he’d only had one glass.

It had been painfully awkward he spewing apologies after the kiss but much to his surprise Y/N had remarked that as far as first kisses had gone with guys, he wasn’t that awkward.

They’d taken things slow from there. They’d dated slowly for a few years taking their time knowing that they were both a little skittish at times given their situation.

They’d managed to come to an understanding that them liking one another and even loving one another didn’t erase the love they had for their late spouses. They would never stop loving their late spouses, but they were fine with this. They both understood that the heart was big enough for loving more than one person.

He’d been hesitant to introduce Y/N to Victoria. He’d feared that his daughter would see Y/N as an intruder on their family. He’d been afraid she’d meet Y/N and would interpret her place in their lives as a cheap attempt at trying to replace her mother.

He knew Y/N was hesitant as well. She didn’t want Victoria to view her as some evil stepmother figure looking to erase Breena Palmer's memory from their lives.

Much to their relief Victoria had seemed to take Y/N’s introduction into their lives well.

They’d made sure to have plenty of talks with Victoria about their relationship, wanting to make sure the child understood that Jimmy loving Y/N didn’t mean that he loved Breena any less. Y/N had been quick to reassure Victoria that she was only looking to be a friend to Victoria and that she never wanted to take Breena's place. She’d been fast to reassure Victoria that she loved Victoria's father and she understood Victoria was number one in her father’s life.

It had gone well. Y/N had been able to form a bond with Victoria. They’d become close. They would spend Saturdays together doing all the things Jimmy couldn’t quite do with his daughter or his daughter didn’t want him to do; such as shopping for clothing and getting their nails done.

Y/N had been the one who had backed up Victoria when she’d requested a new wardrobe in middle school, whining that when her father took her shopping for school clothes she wound up with overalls. She'd been the one who'd gently made Jimmy realize that his daughter was growing up.

She had also been the one who Victoria had come to with the more embarrassing parts about growing up knowing Y/N could be spoken to about things that were just too mortifying to discuss with Jimmy such as boys and periods and mean girls at school.

Y/N had managed to fill a maternal role in Victoria’s life, always sure to make an effort to ensure that Breena’s role as Victoria’s mother was not erased.

Y/N always made a point to stress to Jimmy that she understood that Breena’s memory needed to be a part of Victoria’s life in any way possible. If that meant watching old home movies and looking at photo albums and talking to Victoria about Breena, then Y/N was happy to let Jimmy and Victoria bond and remember Breena.

Y/N had been able to connect with Victoria as Y/N had lost her mother when she was around Victoria’s age. Discussing this had helped cement the bond between Victoria and she.

When Jimmy had proposed to Y/N, Victoria had been very involved in the process and when Y/N had said yes she’d made sure that Victoria was involved with the wedding. She’d insisted that this wasn’t just her wedding. The wedding wasn’t just about Jimmy and her joining their lives together. It was about Jimmy, her, and Victoria joining their lives together.

Y/N had so easily loved and accepted Victoria and the role Victoria had allowed her to take in her life.

Y/N had always assumed she was infertile. She’d had difficulty conceiving with her late husband. Her doctors had seemed to believe that it just wasn’t possible for her to conceive and carry a baby to full term.

So, Y/N had approached being there for Victoria as a chance to be a maternal figure. Victoria might not be biologically hers but she was happy to have a chance to be there for her even if she knew that Breena would always be Victoria’s mother. She had always made a point of stressing that she didn't want to fill Breena's role as mom, but she was happy to at least be a maternal figure of sorts while respecting Breena's place in Victoria's life.

She'd been able to at least feel as though Victoria allowed her to be maternal towards her. She'd embraced the role Victoria had allowed her to take.

It turned out though that Y/N wasn’t as infertile as her doctors had believed.

Jimmy and she’d only been married a few months when she got pregnant. It had been a huge shock given her belief that it just wasn’t possible.

She'd been terrified given that she knew Jimmy and she weren't exactly young. He was well into his forties getting so close to hitting fifty and she had just turned forty.

She knew it was a risky pregnancy given her age. She'd been elated though by the news as had Jimmy.

It had been a bigger shock when she was not only pregnant but pregnant with twins.

It hadn’t been an easy pregnancy. She’d been on bedrest and had been terrified the entire time.

Thankfully the pregnancy had not upset Victoria but had seemed to make the bond Y/N had formed with her deeper.

Victoria had been barely twelve when Y/N had gotten pregnant and Victoria had admitted to being disgusted as she remarked that she knew where babies came from.

She’d been excited to be an older sister though. When Henry and Harper had been born Victoria had clearly been proud. Though there was an age gap between she and her siblings she still clearly loved them.

Jimmy would have never believed back when his therapist had brought up grief share that he’d be setting himself up to meet someone who would change his life in such a profound way.

He was thankful for Y/N and Y/N had insisted she was just as thankful for Jimmy and Victoria.

Y/N stepped forward placing a hand on her husband’s upper arm, her voice soft. “Why is a prom dress making you sad?”

Jimmy let out a small chuckle, his voice weepy, he feeling pathetic to admit it. “She’s sixteen.”

Y/N gave him a crooked grin knowing that humor was usually the best way to pull Jimmy from his funk. “I know, I am the one who searched high and low for the perfect ice cream cake for her sweet sixteen and made sure that Tori’s friends werent full of shit when they asked if they could go to the movies alone and promised me that there would be no wandering off with sixteen year old boys.”

He groaned at the mention of sixteen year old boys.

He spoke not even wanting to consider his daughter being anywhere near a teenage boy. “This is her Junior prom. Next year she’ll have her Senior prom…then she will graduate from high school…and then she will leave the nest. I’m not ready.”

Y/N gave him a soft smile rubbing his upper arm soothingly. “She’s not going to stray far from the nest. She’s going to be going to a mortuary school here in the area. She most likely won’t even move out of our house for the first year or so.”

Jimmy sighed his heart having to lift a bit at the mention of his daughter’s career ambitions.

She wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become an embalmer.

She already had ambitions to apply to the same mortuary school her mother had attended.

Jimmy couldn’t be prouder. He’d known that Victoria had a lot of questions about her mother growing up. Breena’s career had been something they’d discussed.

At first, Victoria had chosen to go into the same field as her mother as a way to feel connected to her. It was clear though that she did have a passion for it.

Jimmy knew for a fact his daughter had the mind for it. She was intelligent and driven. He had no doubt that Breena would be proud.

He let out a shaky sigh as he spoke up. “It doesn’t mean I have to like her growing up. The world is such an ugly gross place. I have tried so hard to teach her to be optimistic and to find the good in the world. I’ve tried so hard to protect her. I thought I’d have more time to protect her. It’s moving too fast. It feels like she was just a sassy seven year old in overalls yesterday.”

“And now she’s a sassy sixteen year old who would scream if you handed her a pair of overalls.” Y/N joked knowing how her step daughter cringed when Jimmy brought out the photo album containing photos of what Victoria insisted were the worst outfit choices.

Jimmy had heard the exact words “Daddy, overalls and a sequined scrunchie, Seriously a giant bow and rainbow leggings! Am I seriously wearing light up sneakers? Why do we have matching reindeer sweaters in this photo? Even when Y/N joined the family she didn't stop you from dressing me like this till I was like thirteen. Did you just hate me when you went shopping for back to school clothing!”

Jimmy usually found he had to gently remind his daughter that the outfits she’d worn had been in style for kids her age. Y/N usually had to point out that Victoria wouldn’t complain if she saw her father’s and her stepmother’s photos from when they themselves were that age.

Y/N spoke up knowing just the words to say. “It’s just a prom dress sweetheart. She’s not leaving the nest just yet.”

She paused, continuing to stroke his arm as she spoke again. “If she was that grown up she wouldn’t want dad cuddles after she’s had a bad day.”

Jimmy felt the smile cross his lips knowing for a fact that though Victoria was sixteen years old she still wanted to sit on the sofa and have Jimmy snuggle with her if she’d had an awful day. She still sought out her father’s comfort.

Y/N was fast to speak up yet again. “Don’t tell her I said she’s not that grown up. She’s been trying to convince me to use my feminine wiles to sweet talk you into letting her babysit the next time we have a date night. I do think she has a point. I think she’s grown past the Great Mac and Cheese Fire.”

Jimmy groaned remembering the first time he’d left Victoria home alone a couple of years ago without supervision. The girl had accidentally started a small kitchen fire trying to make macaroni and cheese. Luckily the fire had been contained and she’d been smart enough to call the fire department. Jimmy had decided then though that perhaps his daughter just wasn’t ready to be left without Jimmy’s mother watching over her just yet.

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but I also know you’re so proud of her. You have done a great job raising an intelligent young lady who is going to be just fine when she does leave the nest.”

She leaned up, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “She’s a tough kid. I don’t think you have to worry about sending her out into the world. I think she’s going to make it just fine out in the big gross world. I know that if she ever feels like it’s too much she’s perfectly aware that she has an amazing dad who she can come to anytime she needs him.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the words he fast to respond. “You say that as though you didn’t have a part in raising her. I know she’ll come to you if she needs you too.”

She pressed her lips to his, the kiss brief, before she pulled back and spoke again. “It’s just a prom dress, Jimmy. Don’t get into your head too much about it. Enjoy the moments we have with her. You said it’s moving fast and that’s all more a reason to enjoy the moments,”

He nodded his head, a small laugh leaving him. “I know you’re right. Do you think she’ll be upset if I want to buy her a corsage? I don’t want to embarrass her��I mean she doesn’t have a date and she might feel weird if I buy her one. I know she’s going with her friends, but…I would like to buy her one.”

“I think she’d love that. I’ll let you know which shade of pink dress we go with. I’ll even do you one better and send you a photo of her in it via text message.” Y/N remarked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He frowned, the words spilling from him. “How do you know it’ll be pink”

“She’s a girl obsessed, babe. She’s been talking about a pink dress for weeks.” Y/N remarked he letting out a soft laugh realizing she was right.

He held her against him, soaking up her words. She was right; time might be moving too fast, but he just had to make an effort to enjoy the moments while they were happening.

He’d drive himself crazy if all he could focus on was the moments slipping away.

Y/N spoke again making his stomach drop. “Just remember this talk in about twelve years when Henry and Harper are ready to go to prom.”

“Oh God, How old will I be then? I’m getting so old.” He groaned, sinking down against her working a laugh from her.

“No, if you’re old then I am too.” She remarked another groan leaving him.

She stroked his back, he closing his eyes, soaking up the feeling.

Somehow he had a feeling getting old wouldn’t be so bad.

He let out a soft sigh soaking in the fact that Victoria Palmer was growing up. Even if she was growing up so fast, he had a feeling she’d never stop needing her dad.

His babies might grow up, but Y/N was right. His kids might leave the nest, but they’d never be afraid to visit the nest if they needed him.

[dangeles]

also! - hi again - something that really comes to the forefront i think in the college tapes is how good the ensemble writing is? with all the college kids now there are way more scenes with way more people and more happening than just two people in a room talking. we had a bit of that in the original series but honestly im just so impressed with the ensemble writing.

like i was just relistening to episode 12 and that scene with all of them at the apartment? there is So much going on in that scene and theres so much, like, relationship writing? idk what to call it. the relationships between characters are being developed super efficiently with very little words. AND it's all under the cover of getting them all to the next plot point basically. like how many people are in this scene? like eight? and all of them are active participants. thats amazing. like:

OLIVER: We've come to storm the-- oh my God we invaded a preschool.

CALEB: (annoyed) Nice. (then) Everybody, most of you have either met Mark or have heard me talk about him. This is Dr. Bright's brother. (we already know caleb and mark are friends but this places that relationship within the context of all calebs other friends for us. plus the mention of dr bright. fills in a lot about calebs relationships. not necessarily stuff that we couldnt have guessed, but it's so nice to, like, idk, these two sentences do a lot imo)

MARK: Um. Hi. Sorry about him.

OLIVER: Him is Oliver Ritz, pre-eminent alchemist, you've probably heard of me. (adhsgjhg i love how he just assumes everyones heard of him like yeah the general population is totally aware of pre-eminent alchemists like thats even a real profession to have 😂 also i think it's interesting how hes switched from identifying himself as a chemist to an alchemist. i think in the am archives he calls himself a pre-eminent biochemist. makes sense that hes switched now that hes not working in that field anymore but it really changes, like, the focus on a big part of his identity from something he does to something he can do, you know what i mean?)

SFX: Oliver walks further into the apartment.

OLIVER: Did we walk into a party? Do kids play beer pong this early?

SADIE: Kids?

MARK: Oh god, there are... so many of you. (reacting in part to being exposed to a electropath and whatever ben's power is called, im assuming, in addition to caleb and oliver also there)

CAITLIN: No kidding. Want to take a couple of them off my hands? (unaware of mark's power, restating her relationship with all the bu people)

FRANKIE: (playful pouting) Even me? (making his move on caitlin because he has incredible timing adsghhsfg)

MARK: I don't think our hotel has the space.

CALEB: That's actually not a bad idea..if you guys are willing to share a bed, it shouldn't be a problem... (then, as if just thinking of it) Unless... there's only one bed? (interesting realisation for caleb to have. out loud. like he knows mark well. he knows of oliver, but this is only like the second time he sees them together, i think?, after the hectic introduction in the library? and hes immediately like 'wait a sec')

anyway sorry i dont really have a point i just love the writing in this show xD later on when theyre with beck too it's just the ensemble writing is so lively and efficient

I agree that this is literally one of the best things about the show, and I think you’ve pointed out of my favourite scenes! 

A single line of dialogue from each character and you get this understanding of them that isn’t too direct or unidimensional. It was much more intense in TBS because its a one-on-one exploration of the characters which is awesome because it needs that level of detail to work as a story. But in TCT, the ensemble writing, as you dubbed it, works perfectly for the story its trying to narrate. 

In this single scene there's so much, like you’d pointed out. Especially when you have a set of young adults and actual adults, and they all just bounce off of each other so splendidly. Its like having pop-rocks go off in your mouth all at once, but you can still distinctly tell who’s who :

Oliver being both condescending and overwhelmed by the ‘children’ which is just hilarious in itself, because he’s also in possession of a haunted artefact and he’s clinging to Mark while also not clinging to Mark,

Mark trying to be the middleman for Oliver while also worried Oliver will run off again because, lets face it, he’s attached AF to Oliver to the point even a stranger comments on their domesticity,

Caleb trying to be a middleman for the squad while also distracted by Adam every two seconds because he’s still hopelessly in love with him but does not trust the new facets of his ability after it pokemon-evolved out of his hands.

Sadie actually trying to get answers because she's grounded and practical, as has been handling atypical shenanigans for a bit, despite being nonatypical herself,

Caitlyn, completely unaware of the Atypical, tired with her exams, and confused at the sudden ensemble, and concerned at Adam hanging out with his ex’s posse after she’d spent a long time helping Adam through the breakup,

 Adam wanting to get to the bottom of things as his own person on his own merits despite being nonatypical because he’s insecure and feels he’s not special enough or good enough to help, while also doing the ‘will-they-wont-they’ tango with ex Caleb who he’s still hopelessly in love with, 

Frankie shooting his shot with Caitlyn every chance he gets because he may have just found The One like Caleb did Adam even though his timing is just notoriously obtuse, 

Ben still shell-shocked that not only do they have atypical friends (yaay) but they survived a kidnapping by an atypical cult (yikes) and they can’t remember anything of how they escaped/were let go.

All in one scene. Its a lot. 

And it feels just right. And so much fun to follow along and doesn't derail from the story itself. 

The fact we have the overarching story of the Twisted Empath Blackwell and his scheme with the Book, running parallel with the romantic tension of Adam and Evolving Empath Caleb who doesn't trust himself? The combo would have been distracting, but the way it was constructed makes it meld together.

And when the whole group goes to Beck and his ability activates out of the blue, we get to see a peek into what transpired between Adam and Caleb without actually taking us out of the current issue at hand with the cult and the book. And it think that’s clever use.

The whole thing is just *chefs kiss*

[dustyard]

Pride and Prejudice Dæmons

I reread Pride and Prejudice for the thousandth time this weekend, so have some dæmon headcanons for (almost all of) the characters! Keep in mind all forms have positives and negatives, and some of these characters simply portray certain animal’s characteristics in a negative way. That doesn’t make everybody who has these traits bad.

Elizabeth Bennet: Red Fox

I’m just saying, Elizabeth is basically the OG red fox character. Socially flexible, adaptable, intelligent, just a bit mischievous, confidant... She’s the whole package. In fact, in a world where dæmons existed, I would argue that Elizabeth would be the reason red foxes are such a popular form. At this time period, foxes in Britain were treated like vermin, and you’ll notice in the novel that Elizabeth is not often well-liked due to her sarcastic, unimpressed attitude.  

Fitzwilliam Darcy: Friesian horse

Now I know Friesians are a pretty stereotypical horse-girl choice, but I think they fit Darcy well. Horses in general are socially selective, so while they do need and want socialization, they only want it with very specific people. Friesians specifically are dependable, intelligent, and loyal, which are key parts of Darcy's characterization, but being horses are also prone to anxiety and nervousness, which pretty accurately sums up our resident man with social anxiety. Being herd animals, horses are also relatively attentive to social status, which is a trait Darcy struggles with throughout the novel. Also, much like Friesians, Darcy seems intimidating and aloof but is really just a bit vain and shy.

Jane Bennet: Cavalier King Charles Spaniel

Beautiful, sweet, social, patient, and bred entirely to be a lovely companion to a wealthy person. Jane is a lady through and through, soft-natured and kind-hearted; she’s never thought a cruel thing about anyone in her life. 

Charlotte Lucas: Western Jackdaw

Plain to look at but intelligent and resourceful, jackdaws fit Charlotte's characterization perfectly. She’s perceptive, concerned with social status, ambitious, and adaptable, all of which are jackdaw traits. She’s also empathetic and friendly, which fit these sociable birds well. 

Mr. Bingley: Golden Retriever

You know I’m right. There is not a thought in that man’s head the whole book, just happiness and sunshine.

Mrs. Bennet: Pond Olive Mayfly

Her whole purpose in the novel is dedicating herself to the success of her daughters, and she does smashingly well with marrying them off. She is mostly harmless, but she can be irritating. There is also a pretty strong implication in the novel that Mrs. Bennet married Mr. Bennet fast and young, and that she feels a bit like her life basically was over once she was married, and mayflies only live for about two weeks... you can probably read into the symbolism there.  

Mr. Bennet: Domestic cat

More of an introvert than the rest of his family, intelligent, a bit aloof despite the fact that he does really love his daughters (especially Elizabeth), intelligent, and enjoyable grumpy and sarcastic, he is a cat person. I picture him with a slightly scruffy tabby that just wants to nap and be left alone.

Lydia Bennet: Unsettled (she’s fifteen), but probably some type of bird (we don’t see enough of her as an adult for me to form a solid opinion)

Lydia is the definition of the pretty bird in the gilded cage. She’s ambitious and competitive, as well as a bit of a show-off, but she never quite manages to grow out of her naiveté. She’s likes pretty forms, or ones that she thinks make her look high-class, though often her dæmon has trouble holding them for too long. She’s flighty and unreliable, and it’s hard for her attention to be held on any one thing for too long, including her dæmon’s settled form.

Kitty Bennet: Unsettled (seventeen), again, we don’t really see her in adulthood

Kitty’s sweet and social, but she’s also quite naïve, gullible, vain, and she likes drama. She isn’t very strong-minded, usually just following along with whatever Lydia’s doing. Much like her sister, she likes to have her dæmon take on pretty forms that she never quite knows what to do with. When she does settle, she will probably be disappointed, having hoped for a flashy, fancy form.

Mary Bennet: Little Owl

Mary is intelligent, but she’s also frequently condescending and socially unaware, though she is communicative. She also very much has Middle Child Syndrome. She’s dutiful and self-sufficient, but she never catches much attention because she’s considered rather plain and uninspired. Mostly she’s just young and wants to be noticed by people, because her parents don’t pay much attention to her. Her dæmon reflects her dutifulness, but also her general selfishness; it’s not that Mary doesn’t love her sisters, but she is a bit envious of them.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh: Brakel Rooster

Opinionated, traditional, obsessed with social standing, vain, and prideful, as well as surprisingly aggressive and territorial, Lady Catherine would absolutely have a chicken dæmon and none of you can convince me otherwise.

Caroline Bingley: Scarlet Darter

Dragonflies are notoriously impressive hunters from a young age, and Caroline is capable, and rather ruthless. Scarlet darters are migratory insects, and like her dæmon, Caroline is always seeking out the most advantageous situation for herself. Dragonflies are also territorial (especially males), and Caroline certainly likes to stake her claim on that which she believes is hers by right.

George Wickham: Stoat

Stoat’s are resourceful, confident, prideful little animals who are capable of manipulating the people around them very successfully. Wickham is unfortunately an example of the ways stoat traits can can negatively affect the people around him. He’s smart, and puts on an attractive front, but he’s concerned first and foremost with himself, and is not afraid to lie, cheat, and ruin the reputation of a young girl to get it. 

Emma Woodhouse: Indian Blue Peafowl (male) I know she’s not in P&P but I had to add her

If there was ever a person whose dæmon would fit the form of a peacock, it would be our lovely Miss Woodhouse. Vain, a show-off, judgemental, social (in an interesting way), well-versed in social hierarchy, but ultimately pretty harmless, there really isn’t any other form I can imagine her dæmon settling as. She would probably also appreciated the added “exotic” appearance her dæmon’s form would seem to give her. 

[starlightbuck]

20 for the meet cute prompts 👀👀👀

20. You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought. 

the way you look tonight || read on AO3

“Why are you walking so fast?”

Chim darts an unimpressed glance over his shoulder. “Because I’m a man on a mission. Now hurry up, Buckley.”

Buck picks up speed, trying to understand how it is that he’s struggling to keep up. His legs are longer than Chim’s, so shouldn’t he be the one setting the pace for the two of them? Not vice versa?

“If I walk quicker, will you finally tell me where we’re going?”

Chim had showed up at Buck’s apartment less than an hour ago and all but dragged Buck out the door without any explanation. Buck had gone willingly, mostly because he was bored and didn’t have any other plans for the day. That hadn’t stopped him from wondering what destination Chim had in mind for them.

He had asked where they were going once they got into the car. His question was met with silence so Buck decided to ask a second time. That time, Chim just raised the volume all the way up on the radio. Buck caught the hint and didn’t ask again.

“If you walk quicker, you’ll find out on your own.” Buck, having not yet caught up to Chim, sticks his tongue out at the back of his head. “Very mature, Buck.”

That stops Buck in his tracks. “How did you see that?”

“I didn’t. I just know how immature you are.”

They continue walking at an almost grueling pace until finally, Chim slows down. It’s such a relief to Buck that he doesn’t even acknowledge their surroundings until Chim is pulling a glass door open and gesturing for Buck to walk in. He does so immediately, drawn in by the cool air conditioning that directly contrasts the overbearing Los Angeles heat.

It’s once Buck steps foot inside the store that he realizes where he is and promptly does an about face.

“Uh uh.” Chim blocks Buck’s escape route, standing in front of the door with his hands on his hips. “You’re not going anywhere until you find yourself a new suit.”

It’s the same thing Maddie has been telling Buck for months now, apparently unhappy with the perfectly good suit he has hanging up in his closet. He doesn’t understand why she’s so adamant about him not wearing it. It cost him a fair amount of money and he knows he looks good in it. Why would he waste his time and money buying a new one?

He’s about to say as much to Chim, but is cut off by a wave of Chim’s hand.

“And don’t tell me you already have a suit. Maddie has deemed it unsuitable and what she says goes.”

“Doing my sister’s dirty work now, huh?”

Chim’s expression doesn’t waver, lips set in a straight line as he takes a couple of steps towards Buck. “Yes I am because she’s carrying our unborn child and I love her.”

Buck can’t say he was expecting that response and it works to disarm him long enough for Chim to grab his forearm and march the two of them to the front of the store.

“Didn’t take you for a romantic, Chim.”

Chim doesn’t rise to the bait like Buck’s hoping he will. Instead, his future brother-in-law sets his sights on one of the store’s employees and lets her know that they’re on a quest for a new suit for Buck. She is very efficient, taking Buck’s measurements and then leading him over to the first rack of suits to get a feel for what styles he prefers. Once that has been accomplished, she guides Buck to a fitting room and lets him know that she’ll be back with a few options for him to try.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me like this,” Buck whines through the curtain as he buttons up a burgundy long-sleeve top and slides on the black suit jacket.

“This isn’t so bad.”

Buck pushes the curtain aside so he can show Chim the fourth suit combination he’s changed into. “That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbles. While Buck’s been forced to change in and out of suits like some kind of Ken doll, Chim has been lounging in a comfortable armchair with a cold water bottle one of the employees brought out for him.

“I don’t think that’s the one either.”

“Why not?”

Chim shrugs, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Just doesn’t seem right. Let’s see the next one.”

Buck clenches his fist and stomps right back into the fitting room before he can say something that might be used against him in the future. This is exactly why Buck refused to go suit shopping when Maddie brought it up, but at least she would’ve been a better shopping companion. She would’ve actually offered constructive criticism whereas Chim is just turning down everything Buck has tried on. Buck can’t tell if Chim is doing it out of spite or if he genuinely hasn’t liked anything Buck has tried on so far.

The final suit left to try on is olive green and definitely not something Buck would’ve chosen for himself. It’s why he left the option for last, hoping that any of the other suits he tried on would’ve been a winner. He changes slowly, knowing that once this suit is rejected, he’ll have to wait all over again for the same employee as before to pick another round of things for him to try on.

“Alright, here’s the last one,” Buck announces, not bothering to look in the mirror before stepping back out to face Chim. He fiddles with the cuff link, waiting for Chim’s opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think you look very handsome.”

Buck startles at the sound of a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Chim. His suspicions are confirmed when he looks up and finds a young boy with sandy hair and glasses in the chair that Chim was sitting on only moments earlier. “You’re not Chim.”

“No, I’m Chris,” he answers with a toothy grin. The kid, Chris, is far cuter than he has any right to be. Buck finds himself smiling for the first time since stepping foot inside of the store. “That’s a nice color.”

“You think so?”

Chris nods emphatically, glasses tipping precariously on the tip of his nose when he does. He pushes them back into place and gives Buck a once-over. “It’s different, but I like it. Can you spin?”

“Spin?”

“Yeah, you know. Spin.” Chris twirls his finger around in the air to show Buck what he means. “Abuela says you have to look at an outfit from every angle to make sure it looks good.”

Well if that’s what Abuela says, who is Buck to argue?

“Make sure to do it slowly so I can see you,” Chris instructs and Buck does just that, taking his time as he walks in a small circle. He does it twice, moving his arms around during his second spin to see how the suit feels when movements are involved.

He’s just about to face Chris again to receive the child’s final verdict on the suit when Buck sees his reflection in the mirror.

I don’t hate it is the first thought that comes to mind. This might be the one is his second thought.

“Does it look good from every angle, Chris?”

Buck turns back around and almost chokes on his saliva.

Chris is still sitting in the armchair but he’s not alone anymore. There’s a man, an extremely attractive one, standing beside Chris with a collection of suits slung over his arm and amusement shining in his brown eyes.

They’re really nice eyes.

Attached to an even nicer face.

“It looks very good,” Chris answers solemnly, completely unaware of the tailspin Buck’s mind has just been launched into. What does it say about Buck that this kid is able to concentrate on the task at hand while Buck has been sidetracked by someone’s presence? “Daddy, what do you think?”

And oh. If Buck thought having this man stare at him was a distraction before, it’s nothing in comparison to how he feels when the man brings his free hand up to stroke the scruff that covers his chin. It’s a contemplative look that has Buck’s heart doing a backflip or cannonball or something else ridiculous and unbecoming of someone of his age.

So not only has Buck’s brain short-circuited, but his heart has as well.

Traitors.

“It’s a good look,” the brunette finally decides. The words shouldn’t hold anywhere near as much weight as they do. “Definitely a top contender in my opinion.”

Buck is not blushing, he’s not.

Maybe if he tells himself that enough times, it’ll eradicate the tinge of pink that he knows has stained his cheeks.

“Does that mean you’re gonna buy it?” Chris’s question breaks Buck out of his stupor. “Because I think you should.”

Chris’s dad raises his hand. “I second that statement.”

“And I third that statement,” Chim says, appearing out of nowhere wearing a smile that always spells trouble for Buck. Of course he’d choose now to show up again. “Who are your friends, Buck?”

“I’m Chris!” He holds his hand out for Chim to shake. “And this is my dad.”

“Eddie,” his father supplies, also taking a second to shake Chim’s hand.

“Buck was looking for you before.” Chris explains and Buck is glad that the kid is explaining the situation because Buck doesn’t think he would’ve been able to. “But don’t worry. I helped him and told him how handsome he looks.”

Buck doesn’t have to look at Chim to know that he’s withholding his laughter. “Oh you did, did you?”

Is it wrong of Buck to wish that a black hole will appear and swallow him whole? It’s probably dramatic, but he can live with that. At least then he would be able to retain some of his reputation. He already knows that Chim, and by extension Hen, will never let him live this down.

Buck decides it’s best to cut his losses and heads into the dressing room to get changed. The curtain muffles the voices outside, but he can still hear Chim’s laughter. Buck can’t tell if this is a blessing or a curse.

By the time he exits the dressing room again, the laughter outside has subsided and Eddie is nowhere to be found. Buck swallows back his disappointment, a fact made easier by the bright smile Chris directs at him. “Buck! Are you ready to help daddy find a suit too?”

“I-uh what?”

“Help Eddie find a suit,” Chim repeats, as if the problem Buck had with that statement was that he didn’t hear it. “I told Chris that he could keep you for the afternoon so you could pay him back for helping you.”

Buck’s jaw falls open as he stares at Chim in disbelief. Buck was only gone for a few minutes, how did Chim manage to set this whole thing up that quickly?

“I’ll take these off of your hands,” Chim says, taking the suits from Buck. “You can pay me back for the suit later.”

Chim’s final sentence is accompanied by a wink that lets Buck know he’s going to be expected to pay Chim back for more than just the suit. He’s gone before Buck can so much as put up a fight and then Buck is left alone with Chris.

“I’m ready, Chris!” The low voice comes from the dressing room right beside Buck’s and he does not think about the fact that Eddie was getting changed at the same time he was. “You ready for me?”

“I am! Buck?”

Buck glances around the room, curious as to where that employee who helped him earlier is. She’s the one who supplied Chim with a water bottle earlier and something tells Buck he’s about to be very thirsty. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

[queen18xo]

Drowning In You

Can also be read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027769/chapters/71246145 

Stiles often found it amusing that despite the horrors they had witnessed in previous years, here was Derek Hale, living in the renovated Hale house. The house itself looked as though it belonged in a home&garden magazine. After years of self-flagellating, years of living in abandoned warehouses and other unsuitable spaces, the wolf now had it all.

Derek now owned a large picturesque home, ready to be filled to the brim with the pack, miles of thick forest surrounded the house, bright sunlight filtered through the vibrant green leaves of tall trees streaking patterns of light across the dirt floor. It was serene.

Stiles sat on the porch; his hand wet from condensation as he nursed a cold beer, he had kicked off his converse hours ago, leaving them in a messy heap by the railing, his loose t-shirt swayed in the gentle breeze as he pondered over how their lives had led them to this moment.

Perfectly shaped clouds littered the sky, providing breaks of shade from the suns heat. It was perfect, really. Stiles sucks in a deep lungful of clean, forest air, warmth blooming in his chest as he realises how much of a home this place has become to him. Home used to be a small house shared with the Sheriff, but now his home was here with Derek and the pack.

He feels the heat of Dereks eyes boring into the side of his head, "Dude, I know you were raised by wolves, but to humans, it's classed as rude to stare." Stiles huffs, but his voice holds no bite as he turns away from the idyllic scenery, rolling his eyes as he spots the amused smirk on Derek's face.

"Don't call me dude" Derek glares at Stiles; It's been years since his glares held any heat when directed at Stiles. Derek had been admiring Stiles since they sat down, eyes drawn to the younger man's relaxed face as he drank in the peaceful scenery.

They settled into an easy silence, comfortable beside each other as they watch the sky change from a striking blue to a gentle pink as nightfall creeps closer. Stiles is known for being restless when silence and stillness fall, as expected it's not long before the younger man is fidgeting in his seat, punctuating his movements with drawn-out huffs and sighs, making his struggle known to the wolf. With a long pull of his beer, Stiles turns to Derek, the expression on his face instantly alerting Derek to the fact he wasn't going to like whatever the boy wanted to say.

"Derek" Stiles whispers, his forehead is pinched into a worried frown, his brown Bambi eyes peering up at Derek from beneath his lashes. Derek tears his gaze from Stiles, throwing his head back against the chair. He knew he wasn't going to like this. "We need to talk about Kate."

Stiles had been attempting to force Derek to talk about this particular subject since the woman had reemerged in Beacon Hills, they had been tracking her, alongside their team for months. They were part of an organisation that protected supernatural creatures from deranged hunters; Kate had reappeared in Beacon Hills with a trail of bodies behind her. The organisation they worked for were unaware of Derek's personal connection to Kate, Stiles, unfortunately, was more aware of their past relationship then he'd like.

"Let's not do this Stiles," Derek grunts out turning to where Stiles is sat beside him, "not tonight" he mutters quietly, his words almost drowned out by the chirping of birds perched in a tree nearby.

"This isn't healthy Derek" Stiles exclaims throwing his arms up in exasperation, his eyes burning with a rage Derek knows isn't aimed at him. Goosebumps raise over his skin as Stiles' eyes flash violet, his anger allowing for a brief lapse in his usual iron-clad control. Stiles is watching him carefully, his shoulders tense and his body no longer slumped against the chair. Instead, he sits upright his eyes locked with Dereks as his waits on the wolf to respond. Stiles stares up at him his warm whiskey brown eyes soft and patient, the sight alone enough to make Derek want to give him the world.

"Stiles, please" Derek pleads, Stiles rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff, but Derek takes it to mean the younger man is relenting. The, for now, goes unsaid; he wanted to tell Stiles, of course, he did, he just wasn't ready to have that conversation yet. Derek reaches into the cooler beside them, pulling out to fresh beers and wordlessly handing one over to Stiles, a metaphorical olive branch that has the boy biting back a soft smile.

Stiles settles back into the chair allowing the tense conversation to lapse as he closes his eyes, letting the gentle summer breeze wash over him, his pale skin bathed in a golden glow from the setting sun. Beside him, he hears Derek's chair creaking as Derek shifts his weight. Stiles' heavy lids flutter open, tired eyes watching as the man repositions himself, his eyes trace over the wolfs unguarded expression as he wonders not for the first time how they ended up here. Together. When he feels Derek's eyes focus on him, and the man's expressive brows furrowing in confusion, he realises he's staring.

The realisation settles on him heavily, constricting his throat as he tries to swallow, a flush rising high on his cheeks, the werewolf could no doubt hear his heart hammering beath his ribcage. The shrill ringing of Derek's phone breaks them from the trance they'd been lost in, cursing, Derek pulls it from where it's hidden in his pocket. Stiles sighs, taking one last swig of his beer, he stands up and stretches out his relaxed muscles, behind him, he sighs mournfully as he hears Derek informing the caller they were leaving.

As soon as Derek slips the phone back into his pocket, Stiles rounds on him with an annoyed huff; he leans down to push a finger against his muscular chest. "Damnit Derek, it's a Saturday" the whiny tone to Stiles' voice causes Derek to let out a low chuckle at the man's childish antics.

"Get ready Stiles," Derek reaches over to Stiles' deserted chair, and balls up the flannel shirt draped over the arm, Stiles squeaks indignantly as the balled up materiel is propelled at his face, Dereks deep laugh filling his ears. ~~~~~~~~

Once they enter the packhouse, they go their separate ways to change into more professional attire before reuniting outside the heavy oak doors that lead into the pack briefing room. Inside the room, Peter is sprawled comfortably across one of the plush armchairs, whereas Lydia stands impatiently with her arms crossed and hip resting against the large solid table in the room's centre.

"Finally" Lydia snaps an air of polite impatience radiating from her, it's been years since Stiles believed he was in love with her; however he still takes a moment to admire the confidence she exudes.

As they all crowd around the briefing table, Lydia gestures towards the files strewn across the table, inviting the other unit members to familiarise themselves with the case. Their specialised supernatural unit is being assigned to the protection of a  young werewolf named Daniel Garcia; the man is a few years younger then Stiles, who is now twenty-three.

In the file there is a picture of the young wolf, he looks shockingly similar to Scott with his scraggly brown hair and boyish smile, he looked young and innocent, and Stiles can't help but feel bad for the young man. Unconsciously he looks to Derek, who had still been baby faced in his photo when his family had been murdered. Stiles feels his chest constrict, his breathing becoming ragged as he loses himself in the hardships Derek has been forced to struggle through. One of Derek's large hands wraps around his wrist, the touch grounding him, pulling him back from the edge of a panic attack, Stiles flashes Derek a grateful smile, his lips shaking slightly as they twitch up.

Daniel is a key witness who is due to appear in court and testify against Gerard Argent. The infamous hunter is on trial for setting ablaze to dozens of homes, trapping the supernatural families inside. Daniel isn't the first witness to emerge ready to testify against the heinous man; however, unsurprisingly all the other witness have wound up dead, this time the stakes are higher, without Daniels testimony Gerard will be released from prison. Stiles shares a brief look with Derek, the man obviously as disturbed by the thought of Gerard Argent going free as he is.

"Well, we can't let that happen" Stiles interjects stating the obvious, his intelligent eyes still scanning over the various pages of information.

"Thank you for stating the obvious little spark" Peter snarks, Stiles briefly flicks his eyes up, catching the hint of a smirk playing on Peter's lips. Beside him, Derek forces his face into an unimpressed scowl; Stiles has spent years interpreting Dereks facial expressions and hidden deep in his technicolour eyes the younger man catches a glimpse of the Alphas amusement.

"Shut up Zombie-Wolf" Stiles shuts the file, smirking to himself as he watches the two wolves wince at the unexpectedly loud snap ringing out through the otherwise silent room. He flashes Derek a bright smile, the man fixing him with a subtle shake of his head and an annoyed eye roll, as he slides the file across the table to Peter.

"His location has been compromised; we are releasing him from the Sheriffs departments custody and taking him into ours," Lydia informs them Stiles looks to Derek, briefly remembering the emotionally stunted man he'd been when they'd first met, Stiles wasn't a religious man. Yet, he found himself praying this case wouldn't reopen any closed wounds for the wolf.

"Okay, no one is to disclose any information pertinent to the case with any member of the Sheriff's department" Derek turns to look at Stiles his eyes softening slightly before he speaks again "Sorry Stiles but that includes the Sheriff." Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose to fight the oncoming headache this case was already causing him. Barely an hour ago he was enjoying a relaxing Sunday, and now here he was dealing with this shit storm of a case. ~~~~~~

Stiles and Derek arrive at the Sheriff's department where Garcia is waiting for them in the Sheriff's office, Peter, Lydia and the Sheriff roll their eyes as the two walk into the room bickering over Dereks driving. A common argument between the two men.

Amongst the Sheriff and their pack members is an unfamiliar woman who appeared to be readying herself to leave as they arrived. She had tanned blemish-free skin; her legs were long and sleek, a tight pair of jeans wrapped around them, as she reaches out to shake Derek's hand Stiles spots a glimpse of a silver wolf pendant hanging from her neck, he files the information away to deal with later as he greets the stranger. "Hi, I'm Allison, I'm the lead prosecutor for this case, I was actually just on my way out but, it was nice to meet you"  her voice is sickly sweet as she speaks, flashing Stiles a dimpled smile, her eyes slowly trailing over his lithe frame, in a way that makes him want to take a scalding shower.

She reaches out, giving Stiles' hand another tight squeeze before sweeping out of the room, as the door slams shut, Derek bumps his shoulder, his face twisted into an irritated scowl. "Focus Stiles" the Alpha growls.

"I am focused!" Stiles exclaims indignantly, his own face twisting into a disgusted grimace, trust Derek to be the only person in town oblivious to the fact he's gay. The Sheriff clears his throat shooting a pointed look in the direction of the uncomfortable sofa across the room, lying on the couch is Daniel Garcia, Stiles schools his expression as he remembers why they're here. The man in question has deep purple bags under his eyes, and his complexion is ghostly, Stiles doubts the man could even stand up in his exhausted state. There are no protests from the deputies nor the witness as their team bundles the man into the backseat of Dereks Camaro. Derek relays the coordinates to the safe house to Peter and Lydia, leaving the two in charge of gathering supplies as they leave for the safe house with Daniel.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 65 – What I Truly Must Do

“Sir?” 

Takio adjusted his gaze into the direction that Yuigi’s eyes and voice were headed to. 

A white-haired man dressed in a hospital gown wordlessly gave them an acknowledging look, right after which he returned to his play-meerkat stance. 

The course of his action was as swift as a lightning, enough to convince some spectators, if there were to be more besides the two visitors, that he was a man who knew nothing of manners. 

Hence Takio and Yuigi mimicked his behavior out of curiosity, and understanding lit across their faces. 

They happened to be standing in the area within the KSA infirmary, at the corridor with the wall partially made of glass for bystanders and passersby to observe what is taking place inside. 

And Tao was tending to several civilians sent to KSA on the other side of the wall. 

Takio and Yuigi were in the middle of their search for the rest of the RK, to discuss how they should wrap up the calamity at Seoul. 

Since they were unaware that Rael had a small business with Yuhyung in the ICU, they sought Tao. 

They have found him, only to remain immobile in their places. 

It was not because Tao was putting up a show of “how-to-make-a-back-and-forth-marathon-in-a-hospital,” doing nearly as thrice as much work than others, checking up on patients and assigning drugs and orchestrating treatments. 

Their eyes were locked upon a child. 

Back when the gas launched by Tao finally put an end to the disaster at Seoul, the 3rd Elder was lying flat on the earth as an aftermath. 

But he was more concerned about the well-being of the bodies around him, and on the other hand he pled that they send the fastest among them to the site he had in mind. 

Not long after, Rael retrieved from the coordinates he provided a girl and a woman the former addressed as her mom, whose blood pressures were being measured by Tao. 

“If it does not concern you, may I ask what is your relation to that girl?” 

Asked Takio, who remembered how the 3rd Elder was visibly relieved after he was shipped to KSA, to witness that Rael performed his commission to perfection. 

Could they be a family? 

Yuigi was also waiting, her question tugging at her nerves. 

“If the relation you speak of is a biological type, I assure you that me, that girl, and her mother does not share any sort of genetic bond.”

“...Really? Then why would you ask me – ask Rael to prioritize that girl and her mother in collection?” 

“...I owe that kid a debt.” 

“A debt...?” 

“...If I were give you the details...” 

At then 3rd Elder’s lips emitted a poof that was most certainly meant to be a smirk, making Takio and Yuigi wonder what in the world could the man be planning to tell them. 

“I’d say that kid is my master in shopping.” 

Two pairs of eyes, one cyan and one light olive, rippled with confusion at the series of words that they deemed impossible to hear from 3rd Elder, whether it is a jest or not. 

Their confusion grew harder as they ascertained that his claim was as unfeigned as it could be. 

The 3rd Elder was wearing a smile deriving from his heart as he regarded the kid. 

He was truly grateful that she was safe. 

And he was truly abominating himself for what the girl and her mother had to go through. 

*****

By the time Frankenstein took to his mouth the wolfsbane tonic that he changed the components of, the 3rd Elder was sprinting out of his island, wrenching himself by force from the purgatory of his heart. 

Snapping at himself that a bowl of water once toppled is no longer worthy of carrying, he did not cease until he joined Helga in Seoul. 

It’d be preferable to have our enemies learn that you are now with us as late as possible. So for now, I must ask you to stay here. We’d appreciate it if you could back us up when you determine it is necessary. 

After the brief briefing, 3rd Elder assumed his position on top of a building not very far from KSA. 

When the cataclysm Helga mentioned broke in the city, he observed everything from where he was standing. 

During the briefing, he was told that everything was simply one of very small steps that will help them unlock the new beginning of the Union.

In fact, that was what he had been lecturing himself even before the briefing. 

‘But why...? Just why would I feel this way...?’ 

Ever since his lodging at Frankenstein’s island, he had been tormented by sense of loss and melancholy stasis that he could not fathom the end to. 

He had given his all to the Union, for mankind’s evolution and growth, and ultimately for mankind’s peace and welfare. 

Union has been his alpha and omega, the commanding key in his every steps and choices and words and actions. 

Alas, now nobody could ever promise that Union will have a future to look up to. 

Instead he had accustomed himself to the ordinary life that had been perfusing into his days and nights; however, he chose to shake himself off from such life to finally lend a hand to the rise of Union back to heaven. 

But why? 

He knew that some sacrifices are a must, as he and Helga intended to critically sabotage the force that must be gone for Union’s revival. 

Besides, he had hundreds of experiences in watching, apprehending, administering, and forgetting such sacrifices during his time at the Union.

Nonetheless, he could feel his heart moaning as he took in how civilians erratically deformed and disfigured were spraying and spreading blood about them. 

He had to fight an iron-hard urge to abandon his post, against which he miraculously managed to prevail as victorious.

‘Don’t you dare. Now there’s no going back. You can only go forward. You must.’ 

The man hammered his lips with his teeth, forceful enough to draw blood, and even shut his eyes tight, until a horror-stricken voice shrill enough to rend anybody’s heart menacingly pierced his eardrums.

His eyes snapped open at the suggestion from the voice that its owner was no older than ten. 

When the breath that was stuck in his throat restarted its circulation, he had already hopped onto the street into a sprint. 

Soon enough he could lock on the origin of the shriek, and his heart twisted as if it were struck by a meteor. 

“Mommy...! Mommy...!!!” 

A girl was dripping tears at how her mother, as loving as any mother would be just a moment ago, was growling at her. 

As much as she was shuddering in terror, her natural-born affinity to the center of her world forbid her from refuge. 

Nevertheless, a parent who lost her abilities to tell her daughter from her foes revealed her sharpened teeth and lunged towards her. 

At the same time, 3rd Elder hollered at the top of his lungs.

“NOOOO!!!” 

Instantly his eyes flashed, keeping his power just about right to keep the woman fixed on the ground. 

Yet his power was far too great for a puny girl to take, and she fell to her feet, to safely stumble onto her savior who had dashed right away to her side. 

And his eyes started during the course of his anxious, hurried inspection. 

‘You...?!’ 

Fate could be cruel at the most unappreciated moment, thought 3rd Elder, who was too hasty just before to study the profile of the girl. 

The girl was his little helping hand. 

The girl who taught him how to use a self-checkout machine, on the day when he first met Helga in this country – the day when he was almost drowned in the questions about the Union, Union’s purpose, and Union’s future as he stood in the middle of ordinary people busy with their ordinary lives. 

The girl whose face was marred with tears, shocked beyond her sanity that her mother got very close to ripping her head from her shoulders. 

The girl who was nearly made victim to the bloodshed that none other than 3rd Elder himself was part of. 

‘She knows nothing about my world... She has nothing to do with my world. She has done nothing wrong. And because of me, this girl...!’ 

The man’s head drooped, boneless, until a cacophony from humans attempting to maul him hit his senses. 

Pushing them away with a single glance, 3rd Elder could at last take in the view surrounding him. 

A wife and a husband were chomping on each other’s limbs, tramping over the bag of fried chicken that was supposed to serve as their late-night snack.

One of the duo of students on their way home had his shoulder bitten by his friend, who was equally spilling blood from his arm nailed with a row of teeth. 

A group of young men , strangers to each other, were scrambled into a ball of flesh and blood. 

They were all innocent people, who should have had no business at all with what 3rd Elder and Helga had planned. 

‘This is for the sake of mankind’s evolution and growth, and ultimately for peace and welfare...? This is the inevitable gateway to Union’s return, future, and purpose...?’ 

The white-haired elder recounted what Helga guaranteed him. 

At the same time, he beheld the catastrophe no different from what he had familiarized himself with at Union, or perhaps worse, considering how these were all ordinary people. 

And slowly his head began to turn sideways.

Once. 

Twice. 

And again and again. 

‘No... This is wrong!’

Finally the realization of what he had unleashed upon Seoul – in reality, what he had been endeavoring to ignore – crushed upon his shoulders. 

Unconscious of what he was doing, 3rd Elder held his head low, to gaze at the girl who was still listless in his arms. 

He also held in his eyes a tiny lollipop she was clutching in her fingers even now, probably a gift from her mother. 

A sight that pushed a cloud of heat and moisture to the corners of his eyes. 

A child perfectly aged to fool around, have fun, and gorge herself on a bunch of sweets was caught in a night of horror like nothing else. 

All because of him. 

‘This isn’t what I wanted...! I...!’ 

This isn’t what you wanted? 

Don’t play innocent. You’re the one who brought this upon her.

The voice within him yelled into his head, as if it were waiting for the moment, and 3rd Elder’s entire body shook in dreadful tremor. 

‘What have I done...?!’ 

He almost lost his breath, nearly swept away in the tsunami of regret; however, he persevered like never before to still and keep himself standing.

Sealing his lips, shedding blood as the result of his ruthless mincing, he started to move. 

He stacked all the modified humans in the largest crossroads, and he ran into Yuigi in the middle, seemingly trying her best to find an exit from this situation, and they shared what they knew, before he handed her a spare communicator he had. 

He did not forget to pick up the girl and her mother, to safely tuck them away from the rest. 

When he managed to reach Tao and learn his plan, he did not wait to urge him to do it, despite Tao’s warning that he could lose his power. 

He figured it is a must-have sacrifice.

In fact, he did not care if he were to lose his powers. 

His powers were what represented him as the elder of the Union. 

They were the most powerful, essentially the only connection he had to the Union. 

Yet here he was, willing to lose – no, willing to give up on his powers. 

For he knew they were not what truly mattered.

‘How I wish I learned sooner what truly matters... What Union truly had to do... What I truly must do.’ 

Which was why he did not regret at all that he might lose his powers.

Which was why he accepted it as natural as the sun rising from the east. 

Which was what he was ready to do in order to pay for what he had done, if it could be paid for. 

Feeling how his heart was being steeled in wholeness, somewhere between guilt and relief, 3rd Elder smiled until Tao’s missile landed.

*****

Knock, knock. 

Tao drummed the glass Takio and Yuigi were also looking into. 

In notice of the sound, 3rd Elder scrubbed the smile off his face, to whom Tao waved his hand in invitation. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s looking for you, sir.” 

I don’t think there is anyone who would require my presence, thought 3rd Elder as he followed Tao, and he flinched upon reaching his destination.

“Mister!” 

The girl jumped off her bed and threw her arms around his waist, not giving any hint whether her recognition is based upon their encounter at the market or from her vague memory about her savior. 

The man froze, unresponsive, feeling too guilty to show any welcoming gesture, and the girl rummaged her pocket. 

“Here!” 

From the girl’s pocket was revealed a lollipop, the one that she was holding during the disaster at Seoul, and 3rd Elder’s eyes momentarily bulged in surprise. 

“...Is this for me?” 

“Yeah! Mr. Handsome over there (At then 3rd Elder’s hesitant, unconvinced eyes shifted towards Tao very shortly, who was smirking in glory and pride) told me that you took away the bad stuff in me and my mom! So you can have it!” 

He knew she would otherwise hate to give away a single treat, given her age. 

He knew he should thank her at once, but he spoke of something else, completely barred from innocence in the presence of the girl. 

“Are you sure you want to give this to me?” 

“I’m okay! I can ask my mommy to buy me new one!” 

Exclaimed the girl, until her face grew a shade closer to a frown. 

“So I want to get out of hospital fast. I want to go have picnic with mommy. And buy candies.” 

Her spectator’s lips were ironed taut at an instant, as he stared at how the girl pouted with her cheeks puffed up. 

However, he soon placed his hand on her head and beamed at her.

“Don’t worry. You’ll soon get to do that.” 

“Really? You promise?!” 

“Promise. I promise you.” 

You will get to do what you want to. What you have to. 

You will get to enjoy your ordinary life, as you should. 

“Luckily, the kid is practically clean of the effect of the gas, probably because she is not completely grown up. Of course, I’m keeping my eyes on her just in case. No need to worry.” 

Quoted Tao for the 3rd Elder, as they walked away from the girl and her mother. 

“By the way... I’m hoping to run more thorough tests on you. I know you went through the most basic ones, but you need to go through ‘check-ups’ check-ups to figure out how much damage that gas caused upon...” 

“Sure.” 

Tao and Takio and Yuigi, who were waiting for them to finish, gaped at the 3rd Elder, their eyes wide open, for they expected him to decline at least once, genuinely or not. 

“Uh... Sure. Why not?” 

“And make it happen ASAP, please.” 

“Uh... Yeah. Sure thing. But why did you suddenly change your mind?” 

“...Let’s just say there’s something I must do, before I die.” 

The three listeners silently flipped but said nothing, seeing how he was so very blasé for a person who was expecting death. 

They could only tail him with teetering steps, as he led the way to the lab. 

And thus things were projected and progressed in order, and by the time the examinations and treatments were complete on people sent to KSA and hospitals under association with KSA, the one person they had been waiting for finally made his comeback. 

At last Frankenstein returned to Korea. 

(next chapter)

This chapter shows the process through which 3rd Elder changed his mind and sided with the RK, as he has been getting familiarized with ordinary life and starting to question Union’s purpose and existence. Like I mentioned in my previous chapters, in the early seasons Noblesse focused on the value of ordinary life, so I wanted to highlight this through 3rd Elder and his characterization in this fic. Now his story has been almost wrapped up, and I have a few more stories to unravel for this fic. I’ll do my best until the final chapter, and thanks for staying with me so far! :)

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse:Sanctuary - Chapter 13

Finally! The next chapter is here! Thank you all so, so, so much for being patient. I'm working up to five hours a day, five days a week on top of college so balancing that has been a wild ride. Now— to the story!!

Read also on AO3 or see more chapters on the Masterpost!

Chapter Text

Cordelia looked down the dining room table at her girls. She loved all her students equally, but the original three held a special place in her heart. The feeling was much like a mother would feel towards her firstborn child.

Opulence covered the table, rich food on plates or in bowls that glittered from the light of the chandelier above them. Fresh flowers that never wilted were placed equally apart, tall enough to be seen and admired but not so tall as to block one's vision of the person across from them. Not a stain marked the white table. One of the perks of being magic was the ability to don white without damaging the fabric in the first few moments of wearing it.

Joining them were their two new arrivals. Coco had slowly but surely relaxed, accepting her new reality. Emily on the other hand… was resisting. Situated between Coco and Mallory, she looked between those talking, but never joined in the conversation herself.

“Coco!” Mallory exclaimed, leaning forward to see past Emily. Something was held in her hand which she tossed at the young socialite. “Try this one!”

Emily looked between the pair, leaning back as a small cake was tossed in front of her. Mallory laughed at the face the brunette made, placing a gentle hand on her arm as she apologized. The other girl’s smile of reassurance was strained.

Their attention turned to Coco, a small gurgling sound leaving her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Most of the girls paid no mind, engulfed in their own conversations and far too used to magic to be pulled from them.

Cordelia watched the exchange with a smile, chuckling to herself as Coco waved her hand over the pastry. Emily looked upon the scene with the same wide eyes the woman had seen in the greenhouse.

Suddenly the gurgling stopped and with a blink of her eyes, the blonde seemed perfectly normal. “Yep. This has gluten.”

“That was really cool, Coco!” Mallory said, her constant smile growing a little wider as she beamed at her new friend.

“If you consider looking like you’re having a seizure is cool,” Coco said, chuckling awkwardly as she looked to Emily, “Trust me, I know how I look.”

“…it isn’t that bad,” the girl tried to offer, more out of polite behavior than actual truth.

Coco only laughed, “You’re a horrible liar.”

As the chatter roared like waves crashing onto a sandy shore, Cordelia leaned towards her red-haired mentor. She was sure to keep her voice low, just in case the revelry was not enough to mask her words.

“Do you recall any witch-hunting in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century?”

Myrtle sipped on her cocktail, a look of surprise quickly vanishing as thin brows furrowed. “There are still witch hunters, my dear. They’re a cockroach you cannot kill. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Are there any that stand out? That were different in some way?”

“I don’t know,” the woman sighed, humming as she thought. She waved the stick of olives in her drink as she thought, biting one off when she finally came to an answer. “There was a case of a particularly powerful witch — showing enormous talent with the gift of pyromancy. A boarding school under the care of the emerging Delphi organization brought her to a creek in the middle of the woods.”

Myrle scoffed in disdain, “using the poor dear as an initiation ritual! Simply barbaric.”

“What happened to her?”

“She burned those who sought to burn her! Pushed the fire to consume them before collapsing in on itself. Wasn’t powerful enough to free herself, little as she was. Hung there for days before being saved. Then she made her way to our academy and the rest is history!”

Taking another sip from her drink, she turned to Cordelia with a raised brow. “Why do you ask, Delia?”

The Supreme’s eyes glanced over the table before she dared utter a word.

“I felt her magic,” Cordelia explained after a long moment of pause as she considered her words, “her magic is… restrained… like a tiger in a cage.”

Myrle let out a short laugh, “aren’t we all.”

“She knew that story, Myrtle,” Cordelia pressed, “she dreamed it as if she were the woman herself.”

“Seers are rare, even for our time. Two in one era would be quite the feat. A Hollywood hoax would be more reasonable than—”

“No, I tested her, Myrtle,” Cordelia said, eyes focusing on their new sister. Emily was more relaxed now, grinning and laughing as Coco told a wild tale. “She’s the real deal.”

***

First days were always stressful. Emily was beyond tired, hardly able to get some sleep the night before. In new places, it was normal to not sleep well. The body would put itself on alert just enough to react to any new threats. Emily could deal with that. It was the nightmares she could do without.

Dolls had been the bane of her childhood, creepy little creatures that didn’t blink. The brunette used to have nightmares of them as a child, but this was the first time she had one as an adult.

It was a strange dream. Quite short, as well. She was in an attic filled with dolls, tea sets, and small dresses. There was a shelf filled with the porcelain creatures. Walking towards it, she had filled with dread. Then, one of them screamed.

It was enough to make her skin crawl.

Tugging at her skirt, Emily looked around the table. There wasn’t a familiar face among the girls, no one that she had dined with the night before. The dining room was free of food, but the white roses from the night before still stood proudly in their vases.

She felt underdressed — donning a self-made crop top with a touristy “Chicago” across the front she had gotten at Ross for five dollars and a high waisted black skirt that she had found in the depths of her boxes. Where she was from, most kids rolled out of bed in their PJs and went to class.

The girls chattered amongst themselves, clad in Chanel, Ralph Lauren, and Tommy Hilfiger. She couldn’t tell one from the other, even with brand symbols proudly flaunted. Emily was just glad she liked black. The color hid the sweat from the Louisiana humidity.

God, what was she doing here?

No one bothered to speak to her, too busy talking to one another. So, she fidgeted with her bracelet and waited for the class to start, listening in on the conversations around her.

“I practiced in my room for ages and still couldn’t do it!”

“I don’t think it’s actually possible to change the color of a rose… at least, not completely. Living things are far too stubborn.”

“You’ve always preferred working with the dead.”

“It’s where my talent lies.”

“If Mallory can do it—”

“Mallory is a show-off. She was practically gloating when Miss Cordelia showed up.”

They were interrupted by someone entering the room. Emily had been so intently listening, eyes focused on the table before her, that she didn’t even note it till everyone went silent. When she looked up, Zoe was standing opposite to them with a calming smile on her lips.

“Alright girls,” she said, once again talking with her hands, “who would like to explain what we’ve been practicing?”

A girl to Emily’s left answered eagerly, “Changing the color of a rose!”

“Teacher’s pet,” the girl next to her whispered.

“Shut up!” the girl hissed.

Zoe was unaware of their banter, choosing instead to walk down the table until she settled before one of the vases. “It might seem easy to alter the color of a flower, but the rose is unique. It resists change.

“One thing’s certain. Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied.”

She looked to her students and gestured to them. Emily turned to watch their reaction, hands reaching out to grab a rose from the vases before them. Timidly, she mirrored their actions — watching how they held it, how they looked at it, how their expressions changed.

Their teacher herself plucked one from the arrangement, holding it out in front of her like a mirror. Zoe’s fingers tightened around the stem as she felt her magic rush through her. With furrowed brows, she focused on what she wanted. Slowly, red oozed onto the petals, a crimson stain that consumed them.

“Now…” Zoe said, looking to Emily with a grin, “show me how strong you are.”

Emily didn’t do anything for a long moment, choosing instead to observe. It was strange to see people look at an object with such intensity, their jaw flexed and eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets.

Some students were able to conjure a color at the base of the petals, their eyes flickering with hope before the color faded. Others were only able to change a single petal or even the stem of the plant. One girl managed to wilt their flower into a blackened husk.

“Not again!” The girl cried, earning a little bit of laughter from her peers. “Why does this always happen?”

“You’re focusing too much on the part of you that can conjure fire,” Zoe noted, coming around the table with her rose and leaning over the girl. “Instead you focus on the…”

Emily turned back to her rose, staring down at it before lifting it up. She kept her hold on it loose as if she were a model for an 18th-century portrait.

She recalled her lessons in middle school, the water cycle and how it interacts with plant life. They had studied the way flowers take up water from their roots — how they consumed nutrients with no mouth.

There was a video she had found where someone put blue food dye into the water. After a few days, its color of the petals came to match it.

The brunette pictured that, a puddle of blue at the stem that slowly crawled upwards towards the rose. Energy crackled through the air, felt by everyone but herself.

“I got it!” The girl with the charred flower exclaimed, the flower blooming into a bright yellow color. Zoe smiled at her.

“See, you just had to—”

Another girl leaped up in her seat, “I got it, too!”

Loud conversation roared as success filled the room.

“Wow, the color is staying, too!”

“The planets must be in alignment or something.”

“I got it!”

Zoe looked upon her students with content. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing these girls succeed. She understood why Cordelia stayed with the school even when it was almost empty. There was no feeling that completed her quite as much as teaching.

Her eyes came to settle on her newest charge. Emily stared intently at a rose on the table, her hands on either side. Zoe moved to reassure her when she noticed her pallor, pink drained from her skin.

“Emily…” She said, going to rest a hand on the back of the girl’s chair. It screeched as it was flown back, a flurry of black rushing by Zoe and nearly toppling it over before they disappeared down the hall.

“Looks like someone��s first day jitters got the best of them,” one girl noted, earning a few chuckles, “Her magical gift must be indigestion.”

“Oh, like you didn’t throw up the first time you sucked the life out of a fly.”

“Shut up!!”

Zoe paid no mind to their words, already chasing after the girl. Emily pushed past a few students, almost running into a confused Cordelia who stood in the center of the hall.

Pursing her lips, Zoe hung on the frame of the dining room’s doorway. Cordelia caught her eye and looked to her with a raised brow.

“Zoe! I can’t do it anymore!”

“…Keep practicing.” Zoe said, “I’ll be right back.”

The woman spared a glance at her students before her gaze returned to the hall. Pushing herself away from the room, she started to make her way to her Supreme.

“What’s going on?” the blonde woman asked.

Zoe shook her head, “I don’t know, but I have a hunch.”

The sound of retching filled the hall, the two women glancing at one other before hurrying towards the nearest powder room. Once again, the sound came and Zoe spared a worry glance to Cordelia before gently knocking on the door.

“Emily? Emily, we’re coming in.”

Inside the room, their new student was hunched over the toilet. Panting, her back arched as she was sick once more. Vomit burned her throat and stung her nose. She hadn’t been publicly ill since she was a child. It wasn’t a situation she was particularly happy about reliving.

Cordelia knelt down at her side. Her hands went to the girl’s back, gently soothing her before moving back her hair with her other hand. Her words were hushed and comforting. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“Sorry,” Emily apologized once she was able to catch her breath. She rested her head on the back her hands, for once glad they were permanently frigid.

Cordelia smiled at her, pulling her hair back into a ponytail before resting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We all get a nervous stomach sometimes.”

“I have anxiety… this wasn’t that. It—”

Another wave of nausea rolled over her and her throat burned. Cordelia felt energy crackle in the air, but it felt weaker than before. She looked up to Zoe who simply nodded, indicating she felt the same thing.

Once the retching passed, the girl finally turned to face the woman beside her. Zoe’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, running into the hall.

“Queenie!”

Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked to her headmistress. Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line as she reached over to grab a piece of toilet paper. The brunette stiffened as she reached out to wipe something from her mouth, hand immediately going up to stop her.

Taking the toilet paper in her own hands, Emily swiped at her face. Crimson filled her hands when she pulled it back. Her eyes darted to Cordelia, wide and full of fear. The woman’s gentle touch to smooth down her hair wasn’t as comforting as the blonde thought it was.

“Oh, shit!” a voice exclaimed from the door, Queenie standing with Zoe in the doorway. ” What’s going on here?”

Cordelia’s touch on Emily’s arm was as light as a feather, gently easing her up to her feet. Brows furrowed, she watched as the girl wobbled. Her brown eyes flickered between Emily and Queenie.

“Please take Emily up to her room,” Cordelia said, “Zoe and I will go to the greenhouse and make a remedy.”

Queenie simply nodded, coming forward and allowing the girl to lean on her. One of her hands wound around Emily’s waist to keep her steady. “I got you, girl.”

Emily closed her eyes as the world spun, only able to offer Queenie a thankful nod. Slowly, but surely, they began to walk down the hall. Cordelia watched them go, step by step. She wracked her brain for a remedy.

“There’s something different about her,” Zoe finally spoke once the student in question was out of earshot. “I—”

“Can feel her power?” Cordelia said, sparing her a glance. “So can I.”

“I think she was giving power to the other girls… not willingly. More like a generator.”

Cordelia’s gaze spoke volumes, skepticism written in her eyes.

“I’ve been teaching those girls since day one,” Zoe explained, “I know what they’re capable of. Girls who couldn’t even conjure a color last lesson had suddenly created a perfect spell.”

Her Supreme shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

“It doesn’t make sense. “Zoe said, “How could she be putting out magic without—”

“You said many of the girls who struggled with the spell found success.”

“Yes, but—”

“Perhaps they were able to tap into her magic because she was letting them— opening a door.”

“There’s no spell—”

They were interrupted by a shout from the second floor. Queenie’s voice shaking in their bones. “Cordelia!”

***

Emily stumbled a bit, the hand on her arm tightening around her wrist.

“Hang on there,” Queenie said, “You look like a rake, but I don’t think I’ll be able to carry you the rest of the way.”

“Sorry,” She sighed, the pair stopping for a moment until the dizziness went away.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve apologized,” Queenie said, “I’m walking you back to your room, not bringing you back to life.”

“I hate being a burden.”

“I’ve spent the last few years in a hotel from hell playing cards with a gambling ghost. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

Emily let out a small, breathy laugh. A smile curled to her lips and Queenie couldn’t help but smile as well, shaking her head and chuckling.

Then, the girl in her arms dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Oh, shit!” Queenie cursed, tightening her grip as she tried to ease the girl to the floor. “Cordelia!”

Queenie heard the Supreme bound up the stairs before she saw her. Cordelia was soon sprinting down the hall, her former student filling her in as she approached.

“She just dropped like a rag doll!”

Dropping to the girl’s side, Cordelia’s hand went to Emily’s throat. Her pulse was still strong, but magic was thick in the air. The spark she had felt before morphing into a raging inferno.

“Let’s get her to her room.”

“How? We can’t carry her.”

On cue, Zoe appeared with Kyle. Zoe’s eyes were frantic, darting between the other women and her boyfriend. Her hand clutched onto his arm, tugging him along.

As soon as she was settled in her sheets, the three witches began throwing up protection rituals. Whatever caused this damage was magical in nature. Their spells would stabilize Emily until they found out exactly what they were working with.

“What exactly can we do?” Queenie asked once the last incantation was uttered, “She has magic, but—”

“Remember the Seven Wonders?” Zoe asked, looking to Cordelia, “how you… got the sight back. Maybe something is keeping her from her own power.”

“Ok, but what?” Queenie said, “We can’t exactly go around mutilating—”

A whisper came from the bed. They all froze.

“…Spalding.”

Hairs stood up on the back of Cordelia’s neck, dread rippling through her body. Her hands moved on instinct, throwing up more protective wards.

“You stay away from my girls!” She growled; dread replaced by roaring rage.

“She… found… me,” Emily spoke in her sleep, words slurred ever slightly.

Zoe grabbed the hands of Queenie and Cordelia, pushing them into a circle over the girl. Queenie’s hand reached out for Cordelia’s. Their knuckles went white as they gripped onto each other for dear life. The muttered sounds of a banishing chant filling the room.

Their voices grew louder and louder with each repetition until they were shouting as loud as they could.

Spalding was resisting, his tie to the school making his power stronger. Zoe wondered if it were better to bring him back like they had the Axe Man. Kill him twice and kill him good.

A sigh trickled past Emily’s lips. Her peace was momentary, fear settling in as she lurched up with a gasp. Cordelia let out a relieved laugh, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a hug. Emily did not return the gesture, pulling away from the headmistress’s grasp.

“See you met the resident creep,” Queenie noted, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced to Zoe and Cordelia. “Imma’ feel real exposed taking a shower tonight.”

Cordelia pulled away from Emily, placing a hand on her cheek. Her thumb brushed over her skin as if convincing herself the girl was still alive.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“… A room filled with dolls,” Emily said, the memory quickly fading. Her lips curled into a frown and her brows furrowed. “I hate dolls.”

The Supreme could only laugh, pulling away and looking up towards the other two witches.

“She needs rest, but I don’t think she should be alone.”

“I can stay with her,” Zoe offered, “Queenie, you mind teaching my class.”

“I’m not dealing with spoiled rich girls,” Queenie said, “I already have to deal with Madison.”

Zoe gave the girl a look.

“…Fine, but you owe me.”

***

After the incident, weeks passed with a semblance of normality. It was easy for Emily to fall into rhythm with her scheduled classes. At the moment, hers were more focused on the academic side of witchcraft than actual practice.

Latin, rituals, wards, and anything else than could be found in the worn pages of the ancient copies were her daily routine. More often than not, she taught herself in the corners of the academy. Emily had a habit of worming herself into the tiniest corners no one noticed. Allowing her to be immersed in the ancient texts.

Zoe had taken to sleeping in her room as a precaution. Emily could not recall the incident with Spalding, a dream that left her as soon as she awoke. They were quick to fill her in on the creep.

Wards were placed in her room, but she still felt unsettled at the thought of a dead man creeping around in her head. Especially a man so obsessed with dolls.

Either way, it was enough to convince her that she indeed was a witch, strange and unpredictable as her talent may be.

Still, she spent most of her hours away from other students. Mallory, Coco, and herself would speak during meals. Outside of that, she only interacted with those of the “inner sanctum” — the original trio of witches.

Emily sat in the greenhouse; books spread carefully around her as she wrote in her grimoire. She had always been content in her own company. Books, to her, were good if not better conversation partners than human beings.

“I thought you were going to join the other girls on a walk.”

When she wasn’t reading, she was tending to the plants — germinating seeds and tending to their individual needs. Cordelia had taught her how to assess PH. Since then, the brunette had been diligent in her role. The greenhouse had never been more alive.

Emily looked up from her books to the doorway, the light from outside surrounding Cordelia like a halo.

She sighed, making an excuse up on the fly. Her hands tugging at her short locks of hair.

“My leg hurts,” she said, looking back to her books, “and I didn’t want to risk getting my hair burned off again.”

Cordelia smiled and chuckled. The youngest fire-starters were always the ones that did the most damage. A curse of tantrums.

Most of her girls were older, but uncontrolled magic made desperate parents search for guidance. Robichaux giving them a sense of hope despite the pain of separation.

The Supreme wandered to the other side of the table. Trying to read upside down, she found that the girl was translating spells from Latin.

“You’re only going to get as much as you put in.” She reminded.

“What more can I do? I’ve read every book I could and memorized all the words and gone to lessons and nothing happens.”

“Just because you cannot change the color of a rose or raise them from the brink of death doesn’t mean you’re not as witch as the rest of us.”

Emily scoffed, focus returning to her books. “I talked to a creepy old man in my sleep and didn’t remember any of it. I’m a fucking… generator of magic, but not a practitioner.”

Cordelia sighed and took a seat across from her, gently closing the books so that the young woman would have to look at her.

“You are a catalyst,” the blonde said, reaching to put her hand over Emily’s, “that is a power in and of itself.”

By now, the Supreme was used to Emily enough to not take offense when her hands slipped away from her touch. She watched as the brunette clenched her fists before settling them in her lap. Her hazel eyes tore away from Cordelia’s gaze and settled on a random plant somewhere behind the woman.

“In my dreams, I have so much power,” she explained. Her gaze wandered down to her hands, broken and useless things. “I can conjure flames, summon weapons to my hands, raise flowers to life, fly, and I…”

She sighed, clenching her hands into fists once more. “… I wake up and I am powerless.”

Cordelia’s head cocked as she listened to her. Emily didn’t often speak of her dreams, a secret she wished to keep close to her chest. It made Cordelia wonder about the source of her power… the specific talent which sang louder than the rest. She’d have to speak to Myrtle, but for now—

“I didn’t come to lecture or admonish,” The Supreme reassured, “Every path taken in this school is unique and I know you are strong enough to make your own way through the thorns.”

“Then why are you here?”

Hearing her words, Emily grimaced. “…sorry, that sounded—”

Her headmistress could only smile and shake her head, “You’re honest and to the point. There’s no crime in that.”

Silence consumed them, Emily waiting for the woman to state her business.

“I have a… proposition for you,” Cordelia said.

“Which is?”

“How do you feel about California?”

***

Michael looked this way and that as he stepped out of the maze which was the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. Being recognized as alpha gave him a great deal more freedom than he had before, his professors more lenient towards his breaking of certain rules. The nature of his origins, however, was a secret he needed to keep close to his chest.

A smile pulled at his lips as he reached the cusp of the nearby hill. Mead was beaming at him, hands raised in the air as she jumped to get his attention. “Oh, my dear boy!”

Like a child, he rushed towards her, hands outstretched to hug her. No, he wouldn’t risk the warlocks knowing of the only woman who had ever mattered to him.

“Look at you!” Mead exclaimed, holding him at arm's length with a frown, “You’re skin and bones— you’re wasting away. Don’t these people feed you?”

Michael’s grip tightened around her arms, his voice anxious and insistent. “I’m fine. Just tell me you took care of the problem.”

“The problem is now a stack of overcooked country barbecue. They can bury him in a shoebox… if they can find him.”

Relief rolled off Michael in waves, shoulders finally losing a bit of tension which had plagued him for weeks. He was so close… so close to fulfilling his destiny.

“Good,” he sighed, nodding his head, “And what about—”

Mead smiled, “Already at the witch school. Are you sure your father—”

“The vision was clear,” Michael assured, straightening his robe. “These people are the only ones who can pose a threat to me. Once I become supreme, I can destroy them from within…”

He placed his hands on Mead’s shoulders, smiling. “… eliminate their whole fucking coven. Then the road will be clear for me to do what I was born to do.”

“So, stop worrying,” Mead said. The poor boy had dark circles under his eyes and was so tense he was practically buzzing. “Look how easy it was for you to win their trust, to get into their school. They may be wizards, but they’re not exactly wizzes. Everything is going beautifully.”

Michael sighed, pulling his eyes away from her and instead choosing to stare at the dirt at his feet. “I still have to pass the Seven Wonders.”

“You will own the Seven Wonders… and then all their covens and then the world.”

A smile flickered to Michael’s lips. He pulled the woman into a hug, allowing himself to relish this moment of peace.

“What would I do without you?”

“Well, that’s something you’re never gonna’ have to worry about.”

[lost-soul-in-time]

No candy? Marc feels his lip quivering again, picking at the sleeves of his tattered t-shirt and preparing to cry again. Back to the opening of the corner, staring down at his shoes. He’d never get a candy from the desk, his behaviour chart almost always seated between yellow and red behaviours. His own dad didn’t let him have candy either, never letting him until “There was improvement.”

Looking back at him as he drops the sweets between them. Quickly pushing them further into the corner, he keeps his back to the tent to block the sight of Mrs. Jones. “You’re cool,” he whispers, pushing half over to Oliver. “Can we be friends?”

@snakedifferentskin

Someone thinks he’s cool?

Oliver gapes down at the candies pushed over to him, hesitantly taking one of the miniature bars of chocolate and then looking back up at Marc. A new friend. That would be nice. The boy seemed nice. At least he wouldn’t feel left out if he were to start crying; he wouldn’t be the only one:

“Really?” He asks. There’s a hint of eagerness to his question, one he barely notices as he finally smiles today. Mother's going to happy to hear he’s made a new friend; she was always the one urging him to do so.

“Okay! I’m Oliver. You can have the other candies.”

[seattlites]

self para.

flight 4542 from seattle to new york.

it was a 5 hour flight, the journey from london to seattle had been longer and yet, john felt more anxious this time than anything ever before. when he crossed to ocean months ago, he had a goal, a plan — get nancy back, save his marriage, be there for his daughters. all had crumbled like a castle of cards and he could have never predicted what the future would hold for him. he sat uncomfortably on his seat, figuring out what he would do. usually he would get some work done, or sleep, but he could none. he was too impatient, too restless to do anything. all he could think about was his son, the baby boy that he was on his way to meet for the first time. he had seen pictures on savannah’s phone but john wondered if he had changed. if he could already smile, how much he had grown, if he would feel at ease in his arms. the thoughts in his mind never stopped running, all the possible scenarios for the meeting going thousand miles a hour in his head. john had never felt like this before and it was a terrifying feeling. he was a father already, been through the experience of a new baby twice before and yet... this time felt different.

upper east side, new york city.

waiting for the firm’s car to pick him up felt like an eternity so john took one of the many yellow cabs outside of jfk. he had no time to waste. he was sure savannah would warn her mother he was coming,had  not even given him her address. however, john knew the right people and whenever he needed something or someone found, it would be done in seconds. savannah’s mother was no different. he rang the brownstone’s bell, shifting his weight from one leg to another while waiting. it felt like he was waiting for years when she opened the door. by the look on her face, it was clear she had been warned. he was just thankful she hadn’t run away. he walked in, absorbing everything, even seeing pictures of a young savannah he had never met. he made his case, just like he was fighting on court and whether she had decided to let him see oliver or not, his words probably made an impact because she nodded and asked him to follow her. 

the room was all white and blue, perfectly staged with toys and light tones. by the corner, there was a crib and he held his breath as he walked in. his heart was pounding, his hands shaking beside his body but all stopped the second he saw him. a perfect baby boy, peacefully asleep, unaware of the craziness of the world. his vision blurred as a couple of tears ran down his cheeks. the second he rested his hands on the crib’s edges, oliver opened his big brown eyes and john felt at peace. his heart slowed down, his hands got steady and he smiled at his son who smiled back. despite all the mess that had become his life, none of it mattered. the two of them could get through anything. gently, john took the baby out of sheets. “hello oliver.” he held him on his arms, carefully support his head on his arm. “hi. it’s me, your daddy. i know i’m a little late but i’m here now. you’re safe now.” he kissed the top of his head, a smile on his lips as oliver fell asleep again. so innocent, so perfect. better than any scenario his head could cook up on the five hours it took him to get to him. “everything will be okay. we’re going home now.”

———————————

to make the change as smoothly as possible, john stayed in new york for the whole week. he had told nancy he had to go to new york in business, left all his cases with jason and gabriela. the only person beside savannah who knew what he was actually doing was jason. he just needed time to get everything sorted. savannah’s mother didn’t put up a fight, possibly warned by her daughter that it would be impossible to stop john davenport. so they settled a schedule for john to spend more and more time with oliver as the days passed. sure he was only a four month old baby but it had been a long time since john had taken care of a baby. he had been present with mabel, every single step of the way, but with aubrey... he leaned more on nancy. he would help during the nights, or taken care of mabel while nancy had aubrey but looking back, he had left them alone for most of the time. oliver? oliver was his responsibility. he wanted savannah to be part of his life but he also didn’t want to force her into motherhood. so he had to do it alone until she was ready and while it was hard for him to accept it, he didn’t really had any other choice. when the day came to go return to seattle, john and oliver were already settled into a routine, just the two of them. and it felt great, meant to be.

getting back in seattle, he had a whole lot more to take care of. a babysitter, setting the house and a new room for oliver. introducing him to mabel and aubrey. going to savannah. asking jason to be his godfather. talking to nancy because having a baby now would change things for them, with the girls’ schedules and probably their custody battles too. working from home until he could trust someone with oliver full time. a whole shit ton of things to do that he had never given his (ex-)wife credit for. fatherhood was about to get ten times harder than before but john was ready.

[jaunes-erotic-world]

MILF and Cookies

///Hey everyone I decided to repost this old story with a few small tweaks here and there. It's cross posted on AO3 on my Arc_rotica page. Enjoy///

............

Jaune was one of the only young man in the neighborhood where he lived. Most of the residents were girls his age or single mothers. Because of this ever since his growth spurt hit he was doing jobs around his neighbors’ houses. The general odd jobs that would be done by ‘the men of the house’. Hey didn’t complain, too much, since he usually got paid. Today he was called across the street to help Kali Belladonna with something.

When he got the he was greeted with a smile, “Hello Jaune thank you so much for coming over I really need your help with something.”

“It’s no problem Ms Belladonna I’m always happy to help,” he returned her smile.

“You are so sweet. I need to take care of something upstairs real quick so why don’t you wait in the living room while I finish up. I put out some cookies fresh from the oven so please help yourself,” she said before walking upstairs a sway in her hips that drew the eye to her amazing ass.

Jaune took a seat in the living room and took a bite into a cookie as he looked around the room. No boxes that needed lifting, the curtains were hanging properly, no sign that the furniture needed to be moved, the computer seemed to be working as did the TV, heck even the lightbulbs and fire alarm seemed to be functional, 'Why did Ms Belladonna ask me to come over,’ the young man wondered completely unaware of the attire his sexy neighbor was putting on up stairs.

As stated before Jaune was pretty much the only guy in the neighborhood, one full of single MILFs at that. Jaune had matured well over the years, a few inches above 6ft, strong muscles from some work outs he’s been doing recently, and a outline of something impressive that occasionally made an appearance when he wore tight pants or shorts. He often was the subject of the talks that women in the neighborhood would have, when his mother/ sisters weren’t around. Those talks were more frequent after his 18th birthday a month ago, finally of age and many cougars were considering taking at least a taste of the 'finely prepared meat', and Kali was one of them.

She knew he was attracted to her, every time he came to help her or hang out with Blake and their friends, his eyes were often glued to her hips or ass, just like they were when she walked up the stairs.

Kali took one last look in the mirror smirking before she sauntered downstairs to claim a treat, 'He ate the cookies I made so it’s only fair that I drink the milk he makes.’ She reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Jaune looking around the living room as she strode in. “Sorry to make you wait I just needed to get changed for what you’ll be helping me with,” she said.

“Oh it’s no problem-em-em,” Jaune stuttered as he looked upon Kali, she wore only a see through purple negligee, her nipples as hard as diamonds, she was sporting a Vacuon waxed nether regions, and a pussy so wet that her juices dripped down her plump thighs.

“You see Jaune ever since what happened with Ghira I’ve been so lonely,” Kali said pouting her sexy full lips. “My body has been in terrible pain, it begs for the touch of a man, that’s why I need help, yours and no one else’s.” She sashayed over to where he was sitting, he was still so shell shocked that he couldn't react as she mounted his leg and rubbed her pussy against it letting her juices soak into the fabric of his pants. She leaned in and kissed him, her tongue licking his lips asking for permission before simply entering his mouth without it.

His body responded and returned the kiss, even though his mind was still not yet fully back to reality. They kissed passionately as she continued to get herself off by humping his leg. When he was finally back, mentally, and was now kissing her back intensely and his hands stroking her back, lightly pulling her hair and squeezing her big heart shaped ass. The way his large hand explored her body caused her to scream into his mouth, a torrent of love juices sprayed from her tight hole and covered his left leg as she came.

Kali dismounted his leg and turned around and put her hands on the table lifting her perfect Bellabooty, presenting it to him as if she was a bitch in heat. “I’m so sorry Jaune, but I-I c-can’t wait any longer I need it now. I promise I’ll suck you off, titfuck you, give you an assjob anything you want, whenever you want, but please right now fuck my pussy fuck me like the bitch in heat I am,” she begged him like she was losing her mind.

What she didn’t realize in her begging state Jaune had stripped had already stripped naked, his cock as hard as possible and the very second she stopped begging for his rod he rammed it all the way in in a single thrust. She cried out loudly orgasming once more but ever stronger than before, her voice even louder especially since her mouth was no longer muffled by Jaune’s. Her orgasmic scream was so loud that the neighbors who were passing past the house heard and knew what was going on. Some women cheered for her, others cursed her for getting to him first, some excited that the plunge had been taken not only confirming the quality of 'the goods' but also checking he was perfectly ok with MILFs, but undoubtedly they were all jealous and horny.

Jaune's pelvis slapped hard against the faunus' perfect ass, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. “More fuck me more make me your bitch I love you thick cock so much fuck me till I lose my mind,” Kali’s pussy was so wet so sensitive and her hormones were going so wild that with each thrust of the young man's powerful hips it felt like a miniature climax.

“Ms Belladonna it feels so good,” Jaune moaned his cock slamming against her cervix as her pussy tried to milk him of his seed.

“Kali, call me Kali or Bitch or Slut whatever you want, right now I'm not a mother or the upstanding member of the community I've worked so hard to be, right now I am a fucked silly MILF,” she cried out. “Fuck me harder make me your slut, your naughty kitty, make me your's”

Her words tapped into something primal, the animalistic urge to fuck and breed. His hips went harder and harder slamming his massive cock into her tight hole as much as possible, he raised his hand up high and brought it down swiftly the blond spanked the object of so many of his wet dreams Kali's big fat sexy Bellabooty. The young man watched it jiggle and bounce the red handprint he left on her soft olive skin was could be seen as a brand on the woman that she was his. She seemed to approve as her pussy tightened around his cock when he did.

The stimulation was finally too much and finally it was his turn, “Im cumming,” he shouted

“Inside. Cum inside me, today is a safe day. So fill me up with your hot thick milk feed this kitty her cream,” she shouted.

Jaune did as she requested and he shot rope after rope of thick cum inside her tight wet pussy, he filled her womb and still had more for the rest of her pussy. The blast of hot man milk caused her to shiver and she came one final time. Her eyes had rolled into her head and her arms gave out causing her upper body to fall onto the living room table, she was in a puddle of her own drool. As Jaune made to pull out he felt her walls clench around him. Barely conscious, her eyes not even half lidded Kali managed to slur, “Moh I ned moh”

Whenever the women in the neighborhood asked him to do a task for them, he would do as asked till they were satisfied. But he never expected that one day he would need to satisfy one of them like this, but an Arc never goes back on his word.

Jaune proceeded to fuck Kali over and over, both of them achieving multiple climaxes times. When Kali could no longer handle anymore and finally passed out Jaune took a seat back on the couch and admired his handy work. Kali's tongue was hanging out of her mouth, her face in a puddle of drool, cum flowing out of her pussy like a waterfall pooling on the carpet, her back had received a few coats of 'white paint' and her ass numerous red marks. Jaune was extremely happy that not only did he loose his virginity but it was to an insanely hot MILF.

Meanwhile, in some of the other women where looking through their clothes, from lingerie, bikinis, their daughter's school uniforms, etc. """If Kali took the dive I will too"""

[recentanimenews]

Ni No Kuni: Wrath Of The White Witch Is A Charming RPG That Made Me Sob

  A few weeks ago, my son was born. And if you've ever been a parent or have been around infants in general, you spend a majority of your time together playing a game called "Oh my god are they breathing?" Night and day, you feed and change and watch them, checking for the tiny rise and fall of their chests as they sleep, unaware that you're currently the most paranoid person on the planet hovering above them. But, despite my constant half-sleep, I fell in love with this stinky little potato person and have found myself firmly becoming a Dad Guy, a guy that gets emotional at the slightest mention of love or children or parents or a combination of those three things.

  So maybe I wasn't in the best state to play Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch, a game that starts with a child losing his mother. Or maybe I WAS in the absolute best state to play through it, because y'all, I have sobbed through portions of this game. 

    Recently re-released for the Nintendo Switch, Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch concerns a young boy named Oliver who lives in Motorville. After being rescued from an automobile accident by his mother, his mother tragically passes away from a heart problem, leaving Oliver distant and depressed. However, he's soon visited by his doll-come-to-life named Drippy who tells him that he has to save another world from a sorcerer. Oliver doesn't seem so hyped about being the Chosen One until he finds out that every person in his world has a "soulmate" in the other one, and that he might be able to bring his mother back by visiting a great sage that looks a lot like her.

  From the beginning, the wonderful art style of the characters and the setting seemed remniscient of the work of Studio Ghibli, and it turns out that my Anime Spider Sense wasn't lying because Studio Ghibli collaborated with developer Level 5 to create the animated sequences. Level 5 used Ghibli as inspiration when designing just about everything else, too, and I'd consider this a wise decision as Wrath of the White Witch looks both unique amongst its RPG peers and classically Ghibli. So even when you're running around the overworld, trying to dodge (or run into battle with) monsters, the experience is sublime. I don't fully recommend using "IT'S LIKE YOU'RE ACTUALLY PLAYING KIKI'S DELIVERY SERVICE" when telling others about this game, but I also don't don't fully recommend it. 

    So, I've established that the game is gorgeous (and written by Akihiro Hino, who directed Dragon Quest VIII, one of my favorite Dragon Quest games), but how does it play? Well, here's where it might divide people. When you collide with a monster, the battle area is free to roam around in, as you control human characters and one of many "familiars" that you can switch in and out. Each character and each Familiar has their own set of customizable attacks and abilities (which you gain as you level up or complete certain objectives,) so you'll want to mix and match to take on all beasties. For instance, Oliver is great from a distance, but he'll get eviscerated up close. So you'll want to consistently pair him with Familiars that are a bit...punch-in-the-face-ier.

  At first, this system feels a bit chaotic, but you soon get the hang of it as battles are plentiful. Then, as the difficulty moves up, the chaos returns and I was forced to get the hang of it yet again. Eventually, I stabilized into being perfectly mediocre at monster fightin', but every once in a while, I found myself overwhelmed, as if my skill level, the game's battling system, and the AI of the enemies weren't lining up. Again, this isn't so much a con as it's just a battle system that takes time to get used to. It's good, and can have a lot of depth, but you have to be willing to practice a bit to feel like you're mastering the art of the Familiars. 

    As for the characters that you're not locked in combat with on a regular basis, they run the spectrum from delightfully designed and enchanting in personality, to just kind of Garden Variety Ghibli Cute. Oliver is a pretty standard child protagonist, and the main villains Shadar and the titular White Witch almost looked like Nintendo 64 Legend of Zelda characters (and I mean that in the best of ways).

  Oliver's human allies are fun but not totally memorable, and they often left me wishing we got more characters like King Tom, the giant cat ruler. Plus, bosses like the Guardian of the Woods and Moltaan set the bar pretty high, design-wise, so going through a roll call of standard RPG supporters when it came to the people that Oliver pals around with was fairly disappointing at times.

    But none of this was enough to lose me, as the core of Wrath of the White Witch is about Oliver growing up through helping people. And buddy, that is a theme that I can get behind. See, Oliver has the ability to restore pieces of people's hearts, helping the downtrodden and distressed to continue on, whether their motivations are touching or comical. So in this way, Wrath of the White Witch tells a story about not just loss, but moving on from loss and contributing to the world in positive ways. This is where a lot of my aforementioned crying took place, not just because I have a son now and I can't fathom being taken away from him, but because there's so much there that I want to impart to him.

  Wrath of the White Witch doesn't provide a lesson plan for helping someone through grief. Grief is often unknowable and personal and affects us in a variety of weird, unexpected ways. However, it does provide a portrayal of grief that is aspirational, where we cope with it even without knowing that we're coping. Where we continue to help those around us because the good people around us are all we have. Where, even when we've lost what's most important to us, we're still important to others.

    Though I'm not the biggest evangelist of Studio Ghibli, I'm so glad that they're around to give us movies that don't talk down to the younger part of their audience. And I'm glad that I got the chance to play Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch, an RPG that I needed right now.

  REVIEW ROUNDUP:

+ Beautiful visuals that are either created by Studio Ghibli, or Ghibli-inspired

+ Wonderful themes about grief, loss, and redemption

+ Exploring the world and its various areas is never tiring

+/- Battle system is extremely fun, but takes some getting used to

- Some of the side character designs feel uninspired in comparison to the rest of the game

   You can pick up Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch for the Nintendo Switch here!

  Have you played Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch? What was your favorite aspect of it? Ever played any other Level 5 games? Let us know in the comments!

  -----------------------------

Daniel Dockery is a writer and editor for Crunchyroll. You should follow him on Twitter!

    Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[ollie-ask-and-roleplay]

Everything you need to know:

Looks defined: Silver hair. Blue eyes. About 5'6" tall, weighs around 130 pounds. Natural hair length is just past the ears, they have hair extensions that can make hair shoulder blade length. Has strap on breasts.

Their name:

Oliver Emanuele (Usually goes by Ollie)

Age: 22

A little about them:

Ollie is bigender (identifies as both a boy and girl), they are biologically male. They have a stutter due to severe, constant anxiety. Definitely the mom friend in a group. 100% human unless somehow changed in the future. Most of the time they are kind and shy, although this is the first muse that has seen the NSFW side of roleplay. They are confident and dominant when in "the mood" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Haha (I like to think that they are secretly very kinky; but that's yet to be explored)

Has a history of self-harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, and crippling anxiety. They are currently working on controlling themself better and improve mental health.

Likes: Making food for other people, helping others, quiet places, windchimes, baking, hoodies, zen gardens, low intensity yoga, etc.

Dislikes: Small spaces, themself (🙁), nuns, large groups of people, spicy foods, etc.

(Likes and Dislikes are to be updated)

Anyways! Ollie often carries fresh cookies with them, don't question it.

Usual Attire: When feeling more male they usually wear a large hoodie with whatever pants they have around. When female it's always different. (Just assume there is a skirt or dress)

Pronouns: Ollie uses They/Them to avoid confusion.

Background Knowledge: (warning: story about parents first) Ollie was born into a very "normal" family. A mother and a father that were happily married and went to a Christian church every Sunday. It was the happiest day in their lives when their first and only child was born with the birth name, ''Oliver". The mother's name was Elaine, she had lovely deep brown hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. The father was Samuel, with blonde hair like sand and blue eyes like the day's clear sky. They were highschool sweethearts. Unfortunately, it was Samuel's brother who had silver hair, received from their father above them. Of course, it could have been a gene that simply skipped Samuel, but he was certain.

Elaine was over-joyed and had hope that they could continue their lives as a happy family. After all, what her husband didn't know couldn't hurt him, right? Oliver was a happy healthy baby, that they both adored almost to the point of worship. Samuel kept quiet for the first month, acting as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. One night, after they had gotten Oliver to sleep, he confronted her.

"Elaine..." He said, the look on his face so morose it could bring someone to tears. "That isn't my son, is it?"

And like that, Elaine's fragile hopes cracked to reveal the ugly truth. She had to face what she'd done. She touched Samuel's face as both their tears started to fall, his of bitter pain and her of regret. She gazed into his eyes knowing this would be the last time they would look at her without hatred.

"... No, not biologically. Ol-Oliver was conceived b-by... your brother and myself." She could no longer look at him and her voice was no more, for sobs had started shaking her body to the core. Her hand fell from his face as she moved to cradle her own body.

Samuel had known. He let his tears fall and left his wife to cry alone. He went into the nursery where baby Oliver was sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything that had happened.

Samuel kissed Oliver's forehead and whispered, "I'm sorry, my son. They wronged us both. I'll be sure they pay for it..." Samuel stood there for a few more moments, tears dropping into Oliver's crib.

The events that followed that night were not what anyone had planned for.

Samuel left his home with his wedding ring on the counter. He drove to his brother's home and didn't bother knocking. He broke a window with a brick laying outside and climbed in, knowing exactly where to go. Samuel stood beside his brother's bed with a brick in hand. He stood there, his rage boiling just beneath the surface of his stoic face. The rage of a man whose family had been stolen from him. Then, as the unsuspecting man was started to wake, Samuel hit his brother once over the head with the brick. Twice. Three times. Samuel did not kill his brother that night, but he did cause brain bleeding which which lead to death several days later.

Samuel got back into his car and started driving back to his home to gather his belongings. He planned to get a small apartment in town and fight for custody of Oliver. However a semi-truck had other plans. Samuel died in a "crash", his small car practically obliterated.

The only reason Elaine had to live was Oliver now. Unfortunately Elaine had always been selfish and her child wasn't enough for her. After attending her Husband and her child's father's duel funeral, she grabbed Oliver in his little mourning tux and left them on the porch of a nearby orphanage. Little Ollie had only the clothes on their back, a letter detailing who they were, a roughed up stuffed bunny, and a chain-necklace around his neck with Samuel and Elaine's wedding rings. Elaine knocked on the door and ran as fast as she could. She committed suicide later that day.

(Okay, parent story end)

Ollie grew up in that orphanage. It was a religious orphanage run by nuns. Ollie wasn't bullied at first, but was often ignored. They were small and quiet and did everything they were told, so the nuns decided they didn't need any extra attention besides "Have you eaten?" and "It's bedtime now".

They played with their bunny until the arm ripped off, at age 5, which triggered his first fit since he was an infant. The nuns quickly sewed their bunny together again, not used to the quiet one being so upset.

At age 8, a boy named Johnny on the playground at school decided to start picking on Ollie because they were an easy target. Ollie started coming back from school with scrapes on their knees from running away and falling. Plus bruises from Johnny and his group when they caught up.

At age 10, Ollie got caught playing with one of the older girls' makeup and dresses for the first time. The nuns were called quickly. Oliver got punished with 10 spanks for getting into another's property and 10 more for "inappropriate behavior". Ollie didn't understand why wanting to be pretty was wrong.

At age 12, puberty had started and something was really bothering Oliver. Some days they didn't feel right in their own skin and other days they were perfectly fine. Oliver was in middle school now, which meant everyone around them were becoming couples for a week or less at a time, and being very curious with themselves. One day, Oliver was listening in on some 8th graders and words of "sexuality" and "gender identity" were getting thrown around. They got curious. "Am I different?"

At age 13, they started seriously researching gender identities on the public library's computer. They were in awe that there were words to describe how they were feeling. They decided they identified with two genders, male and female. Ollie decided to start going by "Ollie" instead of "Oliver".

At age 14, Ollie got up the courage to ask a nun for a dress, and "maybe a lip gloss". The nun was outraged and gave him 10 spanks in front of all the orphan children at dinner time. The nun "made an example" of them and let all the kids know that the orphanage would never spend money on something a child does not need. Especially when the child wanted something that would "make them a disgusting fag". Ollie started getting picked on not just from the kids at the school, but from the kids in the orphanage too. So many slurs and hateful words were thrown towards Ollie that they started to internalize it.

At age 16, they were severely depressed and constantly on edge. The bullying didn't stop and had started getting more physical; ending up in the ER a couple times for stitches or broken bones. They had tried to kill them self multiple times at this point and always wore a baggy hoodie. The life was quickly draining from their eyes. A younger nun, who had only been with the orphanage for a few months decided it was enough. One evening the nun directly asked them, "Do you want to live?"

They replied, "Not here."

The young nun gave Ollie 2,000 dollars of her savings and told them to get as far as possible. They gratefully took the offer and was gone by dinner time the next day.

At age 18, Ollie had made a great life for themself. They lived with two other people to help pay rent of an apartment. They got a girlfriend. They work at a nice Subway job and graduated high school as the Salutatorian of their class. They were fairly accepted as a bigender person both at home, and in school.

At age 20, they broke up with their longest relationship of 3 years. Ollie sunk back into a deep depression and what little progress they made was thrown out the window. Ollie barely managed to keep their job, calling in "sick" too many times. Ollie worried their roommates by spending most of their time in their room alone.

At age 22, things have settled down. Ollie is over the breakup but the depression still lingered. They are trying to heal. They now go to college to get a culinary degree and hope to get their own bakery or restaurant one day.

Thanks for reading Ollie's Story!

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Captain Cold and Me (chapter 1 of 6)

Sara Lance, unbeknownst to her high school classmates, has connections to some of Star City's most popular super-powered heroes--but no powers of her own. Then the mysterious Captain Cold saves her from an attack…and does his best to convince her that he’s not the bad guy everyone seems to think he is. And maybe not all of the "good guys" should be trusted...

Author's note: This story is a weird amalgamation of things. It started when I saw a book titled "The Supervillain and Me" (check it out!) on the YA shelves at Barnes & Noble. That, of course, gave me CaptainCanary vibes. After I bought and read it, they were even stronger. I posted about that on Tumblr, and people encouraged me to write the CC high school AU I was considering.

So I did! It takes the skeleton of the book (which is very much its own thing-again, read it!)-at least at first-adds some (very adapted) Arrowverse characters and plots, and stirs it up with my own weird imagination. I own nothing of this but my own words, and I make no money off it.

This will be six chapters (all but one already complete), posted one a day until Tuesday. Many thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta, and to @sylvanheather for her thoughts! And happy birthday to @dragonydreams!

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

“Sara! Sara, did you hear?”

Sara Lance closed her eyes in resignation as she heard the footsteps of Felicity Smoak, her best friend, hurrying up behind her in the halls of Star City’s Kanigher-Broome High School. She loved Felicity, she really did, but she knew what was coming here, or suspected at any rate, and she really didn’t want to talk about it.

Felicity, however, was going to tell her anyway.

“Principal Hunter got a special guest for the assembly today,” she said breathlessly, adjusting the strap of her backpack where it was slung over her shoulder, swiping her dark hair with its blond roots out of her face. “Do you know who it is?”

Sara could guess.

“Nope,” she said, however, continuing to stroll toward physics class. “No idea. Fliss, did you finish your lab report yet? I want to ask Dr. Stein…”

“Sa-ra!” Felicity actually stomped her foot. “This is important! Don’t you think it’s probably a super? Should I go fix my hair? Redo my makeup before the assembly? We need to get there early so we can get a seat!”

Felicity had a real thing for supers—and the top team in Star City right now was the Black Canary and the Green Arrow. Sara’s friend had a massive crush on the Arrow (maybe on the Canary too), but she didn’t know what Sara did: That the Black Canary was Sara’s annoying big sister, Laurel, and the Arrow was Laurel’s rich-boy boyfriend, Oliver Queen. 

Sara had known Laurel and all her quirks since birth, and she’d known Ollie for nearly as long as she could remember. It was tough to be awe-inspired by the girl who continually left sopping-wet towels on the bathroom floor or the boy who’d once been so helpless without servants that he’d kept buying new underwear rather than admit he didn’t know how to use the washing machine.

They’d both acquired their powers (for Laurel, a sonic scream, flight and a degree of invulnerability, and for Ollie, perfect aim, a literal inability to miss his mark, in addition to greater strength and agility) at about the same time, a handful of years ago, around their 16th birthdays, just like most supers. While Sara’s parents had made sure Laurel had a chance to learn and become accustomed to her powers, they’d balked at letting her take on the role of a public superhero despite her wishes.

Oliver hadn’t even entertained the notion, as far as Sara knew. He’d happily used his aim to win drinks in darts tournaments at Star City’s (not so) finest bars, and his strength to impress girls who weren’t Laurel.

Until the day everything changed.

It’d been an assassination attempt, everyone said, one that targeted both Commissioner Quentin Lance and Ollie’s mother, Moira Queen, who’d been mayor at the time. A massive earthquake centered on the old City Hall, undeniably unnatural, as it hadn’t affected anything outside a relatively small radius. At first, everyone had suspected a super gone rogue, before investigation had revealed the device detonated by a disgruntled former police officer.

Quentin and Moira had survived. Dinah, Sara and Laurel’s mother, who’d been on her way into the building to meet her husband for lunch, had not. Neither had Tommy Merlyn, Ollie’s best and oldest friend and the son of Moira’s deputy mayor. He’d been sitting on the front steps, waiting for his perpetually late friend to show up.

They didn’t have costumes or names yet, and they wouldn’t go patrolling for a few months. But in many ways, that was the day the Black Canary and the Green Arrow were born.

And then there was Sara, just a few years younger. Sara didn’t have powers. She had a second-degree black belt—about to test for third--but no powers.

It wasn’t good enough. It would never be good enough. Sara sighed. Felicity, unaware of her thoughts, elbowed her.

“Come on!” she said. “Earth to Sara Lance! What do you think?”

“I think I want to skip it,” Sara muttered, shifting her own backpack.

“Skip English class?” Felicity blinked at her. “That’s not like you.”

Apparently, Sara had completely missed the thread of this conversation. She sighed again. “No. Never mind.” She gave her friend a onceover. “You look fine. And we get there early if you want. Just don’t expect me to squeal and wave and go all fangirl with you.”

Felicity grinned and gave her a one-armed hug. “Sara, I just don’t get you at times, but you’re the best.”

“You know it.”

Felicity (and Sara) had guessed right. The Green Arrow in his hood and green leather and Black Canary in her black leather and domino mask had strolled out onto the stage at the assembly, exhorting the students not to bully each other and to stay in school, etc., etc. Sara had rolled her eyes so hard they hurt, while Felicity did indeed squeal and wave and go all fangirl. She was still gushing when the assembly let out, and they headed for what Principal Hunter called the senior Creators Club—and Sara privately called Kanigher-Broome’s catchall hangout for Star City’s young, social and slightly geeky.

Sara’s father didn’t really like her being home on her own any more, not since…since her mother died. He was still concerned that the would-be killer (who had died in prison last year) hadn’t acted alone, and that the whole family could be a target. Quentin not only went armed as part of his commissioner duties, he often had an entourage with him at all times—and Laurel was the Black Canary. Sara was…just Sara. So, to keep her dad happy, she stayed at school a little longer, working on whatever homework or projects came her way, chatting with Felicity and other classmates, pretending things were…normal.

“Did you see? The Green Arrow winked at me, Sara!” Felicity did a little dance step in the corridor on their way toward the senior lounge, dodging students headed in the other direction. “He did! I swear it. Right at me.”

Ollie had probably been winking at Sara. He knew perfectly well that she hated when he and Laurel made appearances at her school. “Mmhmm,” she agreed absently. “That Green Arrow. Quite the flirt.” Ollie was a flirt, or he had been. The Green Arrow was anything but.

“Do you think I should go blond again?” Felicity stopped, facing Sara, wrapping her fingers around a tendril of her hair and holding it out to inspect it critically. “I like the goth-y look,” she commented, starting to turn to head toward the lounge again, “but…oof!”

She collided right with a tall, thin boy, knocking his bag out of his hands and knocking her own glasses off her face. Grasping desperately for them, she grabbed the edges of his worn black jacket instead, the glasses clattering to the floor. The boy reacted with a startled noise and stepped back, tripping over his own bag, making a faint sound of pain as he did so.

Sara stepped forward in concern, reaching out to steady him, even as Felicity stooped and felt around for her glasses. But he caught himself without incident, shaking his head, and Sara stopped wondering if she’d imagined that pained gasp.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

The boy, who had dark, very short hair with what might even be a few glints of premature silver in it, was still looking aside, stooping to reclaim his bag.

“I’m all right,” he said in a low tone as he straightened. “Really. Thanks.”

Felicity gave a cry of victory and stuffed her glasses back on to her face, standing again. ”Sorry!” she told the boy cheerfully, then frowned. “Wait. Do I know you?”

He gave an almost curt shake of his head, looking at Felicity, then finally glancing at Sara. His eyes—an icy blue that was so striking that Sara sucked in a breath--widened, and he turned away abruptly. Sara blinked, watching him duck into the senior lounge. He’d been quite good-lucking, really, she thought. Those cheekbones and eyelashes were totally unfair in addition to those eyes.

“Sara! Sara!”

Felicity would keep Sara-ing her until she responded. With a sigh, she looked at her friend, who was still gaping at the door to the lounge. “What?”

The other girl looked upset, for some reason. “Don’t you know who that was?”

“…no?” The boy had looked vaguely familiar, though everything about him—his hunched shoulders, his downcast eyes—screamed that he didn’t want to be noticed.

“That was Leonard Snart. Snart, Sara!”

The world stopped. “Oh.”

Snart. The son of Lewis Snart, the crooked officer who’d tried to arrange for her dad’s assassination, who’d rocked Star City with the explosion that had killed her mother and so many others. For a moment, Sara couldn’t breathe. The memories were still so strong…the search for survivors, the hunt for suspects, the news that’d trickled out about motives and targets. The trial, which had, mercifully, been extremely brief.

“How do you know?” she asked numbly, stepping to the side to let other seniors by. “I mean. I know he had two kids, a son and daughter. But neither of them went here…before…”

Felicity sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her gaze was sympathetic and troubled.

“Remember that hackerspace thing I was involved with a few years back?” she asked. “Over in the East Side? I ran into him there once or twice. Never talked, barely knew his name. He’s a quiet kid. It took me a minute to recognize him here. He shaved off his curls.” She glanced away. “It’s not like I was going to bring it up after. But…Snart. Sort of a memorable name.”

“Yeah.” Sara stood, frozen, another moment, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he had anything to do with it. I just…I thought both of them went into foster care in Central. I remember reading…”

She’d once read the articles about the case obsessively, determined to figure out if anything could have saved her mom, could prevent something like that from ever happening again. She’d always wondered if Laurel or Ollie could have, if they’d been using their powers for hero-ing back then. But it was the kind of thing she’d never had the heart to ask.

“I know.” Felicity’s voice was low. She sighed again. “I can’t figure out why he’d even want to come back here.”

“Um. I might know something about that…”

Both of them turned at the sheepish voice behind them. Barry Allen, shuffling his feet, gave them an uncertain grin. Felicity squeaked and put her hands on her hips. She’d dated Barry briefly, but while it hadn’t lasted, they were still friends. And as Sara well knew, withholding information was majorly against the Felicity’s-friend code.

“Spill, Allen,” she said, fiercely enough that Barry paled a little.

“Well, not really the reasons,” he clarified, switching his gaze to Sara, his cheeks a little pink. She smiled despite herself. Barry was such a lovable dork. “But some of the story behind it.”

Felicity folded her arms and fixed him with a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating, then gave him a regal nod, as if to tell him to carry on with it.

“My dad met him, Snart—uh, Len—in Central City, when he was there doing some, ah, charity work.” Barry continued. Sara remembered that his dad was a doctor, and that his family was originally from Central. “His little sister, she’s happy there, in school, with a good family, but Len wanted to come back here to at least finish school.” He bit his lip. “Dad helped him with the emancipation paperwork. I don’t know where he’s living, but he’s come by our house for dinner once or twice, at my parents’ insistence. Doesn’t talk much.” He sighed. “Be nice to him, OK? He’s had a rough road, but he’s an OK guy. There’s good in him.”

His pleading gaze was on Sara, who really had no intention of holding Leonard Snart responsible for his father’s misdeeds. She nodded, then smirked, deciding to try to lighten the mood a little.

“Aww,” she teased. “Gotta crush on him, Barry? He is really cute.”

Barry blinked, then turned pinker. “What? No! Uh. Not that I have a problem with that.”

Barry and his current girlfriend, Iris West, were currently the leading contenders for most likely to get married right after graduation. It was just a lot of fun to tease him about it.

Felicity got a particularly evil look on her face, but Sara, still smirking, cut back in.

“Of course I’ll be nice to him,” she said, then sobered. “Having a horrible parent doesn’t make him a bad person.” She nibbled her lip a little, thinking. “He’s kinda one of his dad’s victims too, in a way, isn’t he?”

Barry nodded, growing serious himself. “Yeah. I mean…he hated the guy. Hated. It’s not like he’s talked about it, really, but…”

“Join the crowd,” Sara murmured, as Felicity nodded next to her. “No worries, Bar. In fact…”

She shouldered her backpack, took a deep breath, and headed for the lounge. “In fact, I think there’s something I need to do.”

She could hear Barry and Felicity following her, but she ignored them, stopping in the entrance and scanning the room. There. The dark-haired boy was sitting by himself at a table in the far corner, pulling a laptop out of his much-abused bag and opening it on the table. He glanced up as she approached, a flash of something darting over his face, and Sara felt a pang of empathy.

“Hey,” she said as he met her eyes, his own gaze opaque. “I just wanted to say, sorry about my friend. She’s a klutz.” She took a deep breath (ignoring Felicity’s protests behind her), then held out her hand. “I’m Sara Lance.”

The boy—Leonard—held her gaze for a long moment, then stood. He was tall, Sara thought, eying him. And…yeah. Cute. Hot, really. Mm. He didn’t look like a senior in high school. College student, at least.

“Hey,” he said in return, so quietly that she could barely hear him. “It’s OK.” He shrugged. “It was an accident.”

“Your laptop’s all right?” Sara darted a look down at it. It was an old machine, she thought. But that didn’t mean it didn’t mean a lot to him.

“It’s fine.” The corner of his mouth tugged up a little, a tiny little smile, but a smile nonetheless. Sara felt like she’d won a victory. Then he reached out and took her proffered hand.

A firm, calloused grip, one that didn’t back down because she was a girl. Sara liked that. And he didn’t seem to find her gesture overly formal because they were only in high school. His handshake was steady, and so were his eyes, and damn…

“Leonard Snart,” he said so quietly that she could barely hear him.

“Pleased to meet you, Leonard,” she said quietly in return. “Glad you’re OK.”

She’d been pulled away from Leonard nearly immediately, and that was OK too. Felicity had wanted to talk about the physics lab she’d been uninterested in earlier, and then to gush about the Green Arrow and the Black Canary some more. Then Barry and Iris had come over, asking about the upcoming talent show, and she’d gotten distracted again.

When the club hours had ended and they’d all been told to go home, Sara glanced around, but Leonard Snart was already gone. She shook her head, then bade other friends farewell and walked with Felicity toward the parking lot, where the other girl turned to her.

“Do you need a ride home?” Felicity asked, a touch distractedly. “It’s no problem. I can drop you off on the way.”

Felicity drove like a bat out of hell. Sara loved her friend, but she was actually glad to have an excuse not to trust her life to the Fliss-mobile today.

“Nah. My dad is actually home tonight. He wants us all to have dinner together, for once,” she demurred. “Should be here soon.”

Felicity gave her a cheerful wave, then headed toward her old Cobalt, peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires. Sara shook her head, then checked her phone.

Nothing. But after only a few moments, it chimed. Sara, watching the other seniors trickle out one by one, checked it again.

“Sorry, honey,” her dad texted. “Stuck here late. Can Felicity give you a ride?”

Sara bit her lip. Why hadn’t he sent that a few moments ago? But she’d thought that this dinner thing might actually happen. She could text Laurel, but her sister and Ollie almost certainly had something more important going on. Hero-ing and whatnot.

“Sure,” she texted back after a moment. “See you later.”

Then she started for home.

It wasn’t a long walk, really. But with the level of violence in Star City these days, neither her dad nor her sister usually liked her walking home alone, especially not later in the day. Whatever. Sara had a black belt. She could take care of herself. Her grip tightened on her backpack. Right? She’d be fine.

Sara was crossing the railroad tracks just outside the edge of the Glades when she heard the footsteps. Two people, at a guess. Well. People went for walks here too. Probably. She listened, heart beating just a little faster, then scanned the street ahead of her. Stores and other businesses closed down early here these days. Nothing seemed to be open, and traffic was nonexistent.

She picked up the pace, just a little. The footsteps picked up too. And then they were three sets. Four?

Sara abandoned her pretense and ran. There had to be someplace she could duck into, she thought, her own heartbeat echoing in her ears. There had to be!

A male voice behind her called out something in a snarl. Sara didn’t look back, pelting down the uneven sidewalk, scanning the quiet street, wondering if she should yell or...

Someone grabbed her backpack, jerking her to a stop, and Sara kept enough presence of mind to turn fighting. She lashed out at the man with a hand, fingers stiff, jabbing toward his eyes and connecting. He yelped, putting his hands to his face, and she pulled away, turning to run ahead.

But there were two more men there, young and scruffy, thin and looking a bit strung out. Sara didn’t hesitate. She struck out at one’s face, then kicked hard at his kneecap, sending him tumbling to the ground, then rounded on the other, who gaped at her a moment, apparently stunned by her reaction.

Sara drove her foot into his groin without a flicker of sympathy, stepping past him as he folded, drawing a breath to run again. She’d done it, she’d defended herself, she could...

The first man, however, hadn’t been as down for the count as she’d hoped. An arm looped around her neck even as she took a step, pulling her back again, and...damn. Something cold and metal pressed against the skin just under her right ear, something sharp.

“Money!” her captor hissed in her ear, arm tightening. Sara could hear the groans from the other two, interspersed with cursing. She tried to take a deep breath, thinking about what she had in her bag.

“I don’t have any,” she said after a moment. “I don’t! Really. Look!”

“Yeah, right!” The knife pricked harder...but then the man did move it, reaching down toward her bag, and his other arm loosened just a little.

Sara took advantage of it. She stomped on the instep of his foot, hard, then threw an elbow right into his solar plexus when his grip loosened. He crumbled and she turned to run again, taking a step, then two...

“OK, pretty girl, freeze!”

There had been a fourth man. And he had a gun. Which was now pointed right at her head.

Sara froze.

The man was to her right, but she could see him, and the gun, out of the corner of her eye. He held it steady and seemed far more calm and competent than the other men. Which made him far scarier.

For a long moment, he studied her, then let out a snort of laughter. Sara wanted to bristle at the derision...but she didn’t dare move a muscle. Supers were said to have a sixth sense about people in trouble, and while Laurel and Oliver said it was nebulous and impossible to measure, there was a measure of truth to it. Surely one of them would come to her rescue? It would be mortifying...but at this point...

“Someone will pay ransom for you,” the other man said, finally. “Girl like you in a place like this? Someone’s gotta be looking for you.” He chuckled again. It was not a nice chuckle. “Maybe we’ll even give you back. Maybe not.”

Sara took a slow breath. She couldn’t let this man just kidnap her. And she had to move before the other men regrouped. They were all getting to their feet, muttering to each other.

Then there was a noise to her left, a thud as if of someone landing on the ground. A sense of chill. Sara nearly looked, hoping for Laurel or Oliver, but the gun was still pointed at her and...

“Duck—and close your eyes!”

This isn’t the time to look a gift hero in the mouth. Err, something like that. Sara did as she was told, dropping to a knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

The blast of cold came from the left, so close to Sara’s face that she could feel the frost forming on her eyelashes. Somewhere, a corner of her brain registered that was new, that there wasn’t a super with ice powers in Star City, or none that she knew of. (Or that Felicity knew of, which was even more conclusive.) She heard yelps from the men and the crackle of what seemed to be ice, and braced for the crack of a gunshot...but none came. Just more thuds, as if of bodies falling to the ground.

“OK. You can look.”

Sara opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the four men, all stretched out on the ground, all covered by a sheen of frost. A sigh of relief escaped her lips even as she flinched, wondering.

“Are they...”

“They’re just out...cold. You all right?”

Sara looked up.

The figure in front of her, extending a hand to help her up, was no one she’d ever seen before. Black pants, black boots…and then a blue parka over the top, fur-fringed hood pulled up over his head. His face was obscured by a pair of goggles, but a smile tugged at his mouth as he looked at her.

“It’s OK,” he said, keeping the hand extended. “I don’t bite. Unless it’s frostbite. Heh. Maybe that’s a potential name.”

Bad puns. Why did supers love them so much? Sara stared at him long enough that the smile fled, but he kept the hand held out to her.

Male, from the voice. And about her age, also from the voice. Sara frowned, trying to place it, but then took the offered hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Um,” she said. “Thanks. Really. I thought I had that, but...the gun...”

“I saw. You were badass. I just figured I should help out.” The tone was admiring. And he still had her hand. Sara looked down at it, noting that he also wore black gloves, but the super let go then, taking a step back courteously.

“You’re new,” she said, still a little shell-shocked. “Ice powers. That’s...new.”

“Yeah. Sort of.” The boy...man?...walked over to the four men and studied them. “I’ll alert the cops that they’re here. They’ll thaw out soon enough. We should get going...hey, wait!”

Sara had already turned away and started walking as fast as she could, not quite running. The super caught up to her easily, though, jogging along next to her, glancing her way.

“That was really impressive,” he said. “What...what’s your name?”

This guy, hero or not, was starting to annoy her. Sara frowned at him, although she kept walking.

“I said thank you,” she gritted out. “What do you want?”

“Just making conversation.” He almost sounded hurt. “Hey, like you said, I’m new. Thought maybe...”

“You thought wrong.” Sara took a breath and stopped. “Look. Iceman, or whatever your name is...”

“I think that one’s taken.” The drawl was amused. He smirked at her, an infectious expression, and she almost smirked back. But...she already knew far too much about two of the city’s main supers. She didn’t need, or want, to know any more.

“Thank you,” she said again, trying to project sincerity. “Truly. Now, I have to get home.”

He nodded, but didn’t move, the smirk fading into something more...wistful? Somehow it touched a chord, and Sara studied him a moment longer, intrigued despite herself. Then, cursing her curiosity, she turned and headed down the street.

And that jerk kept following her.

“I could see you home,” he said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You are fine,” he retorted. “But I can still make sure you get there...”

“Goodbye, Iceman.”

A sigh. Then: “Goodbye, Sara.”

She whipped around, but he was gone already, apparently faded into the trees at the side of the street in one of those near-patented super moves.

Ass. Sara studied the trees, curiosity surging again, then turned and headed home as fast as she could, feeling the irritating sense of someone watching her the entire way. She made it in the door, slamming and locking it behind her, then dropped her backpack on the floor and closed her eyes.

She’d been rescued by the world’s most infuriating superhero.

Par for the course.