#thinking about slicing this beam and using the slices for further projects

[cuttledreams-bugs]

I forgot to share, I tried out some woodburning recently and had a fun time:

the wood was so soft it was more like wood carving lmao but I'm hoping to doing more sometime

[myers-meadow]

Libra: Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy x reader

Happy super late, or already early, birthday @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better!! Here is a bday gift fic, angst and fluff, just for you <3.

Summary: Insecurities come to a head on your birthday, but the Malfoys always have a thing or two up their sleeve to make it all better.

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Narcissa Malfoy x reader in an equal poly relationship.

I hope you like it, cy!! This is quite spontanious, so I hope that the surprise is ok :)) dividers by @newlips or @/chechelia

A polyamorous life has many benefits. When Lucius is busy, Narcissa will have dinner with you. When Narcissa meets her friends or goes to her baking club, Lucius will take you shopping. It seemed like life was more perfect than ever with them, as part of their household. Unpredictably, or perhaps not all that unpredictably; double the partners also came with double the insecurities. They've been together for longer than you knew them, of course. It was only natural, and they understood. Still, with them being as they are; successful, rich, beautiful beyond compare, how could you find a place in their lives? What did you have to give that they didn't already have, or could get from someone else?

The late September sun rested itself in the backyard. Perhaps that was one of the biggest benefits of living at Malfoy Manor: the gardens. There were several of them, each with its own theme and story. The rose garden was the one Lucius had constructed for Narcissa when she first moved in, it was to the left of the estate. It had statues of Greek mythology throughout, with alcoves and gazebos with beautiful chairs and tables from carved wood. It fit her so well and Lucius' love for his wife was palpable when one visited the beautiful garden. They divulged that, early on, when they just moved in together and the garden was not as lush as it was now, they would put a blanket out and stargaze together. There still was a designated stargazing spot; one against a hill, with a plaque showing different constellations and their individual stars.

Your birthday came. There was just a note. That was all. A note and a slice of cake. No fanfare, no flowers, not even them.

The handwriting on the envelope curled in the way Narcissa's did, and you open it with a slightly worse tremor than normal. After a happy birthday wish, and to enjoy the slice of homemade cake, it held instructions to come out to the garden, asking for a bit of help, if it suits you, with the new plaque Lucius is getting installed in the stargazing spot. Since you know so much about plants, she trusts in your judgement with which plants will fit in both beauty and meaning. This was that pang of neglect, of feeling like you only mattered for your usefulness. It hit harder than it had before.

Growing restless after breakfast and sick of pacing the kitchen, you eventually go outside. It's a wonderful September day; windy, overcast, and sometimes a beam of sunlight hits a patch of grass or perennials. From afar you hear the cry of Lucius' peacock. Moving along the path, you admire the plants. The bushes don’t have berries anymore, but some flowers are still in bloom. The first of the leaves are turning colour, but only the first few. September is beautiful. Yet it doesn't erase that pang in your heart. Feeling unsure, not wanting to cry suddenly if you meet either of your lovers, you linger around the edges of the estate, not really making your way to the stargazing spot just yet.

Yet, you've been asked for help. How could you refuse them? The project could be fun. Even as you try thinking positively, it leaves a bitter taste. When you get to the stargazing spot, there's another envelope on the plaque, held in place by a rock. Cursive, smaller than Narcissa's. You open it, brushing some wispy hairs that fell into your face from the wind. It directs you further away from the manor, deeper into the estate. It asks you to come to the other side of the estate, the right, to take a look at the plants Lucius ordered, so you could choose between them for the stargazing spot. You frown, but do as it says anyway.

It nears dinner time when you reach the spot, as you deliberately took the scenic route there. Once you're over the hill that leads you to that side of the estate, a gleaming catches your eye. Glass. Stained glass, even, with the lead glinting like silver in the low summer sun. It looks like... You move closer, driven by curiosity this time.

A greenhouse. A large, beautiful greenhouse, stained glass above the door. The colours form your star sign, inside a circle. In the light like this, a light coloured like a kaleidoscope falls on the dirt path leading into the greenhouse. You enter, amazed by the size of the structure. The inside is filled with plants. It's nicely humid, and warm, as a greenhouse should be. Slowly, you follow the path, taking it all in. Was this what they wanted to show you? There is no other note directing you to choose from a certain set of plants, nor are your lovers waiting for you. Yet, you're certain that this building has not been here before. You loved exploring the garden, and if it had been, you definitively would have noticed. It's rather hard to miss.

Along the path are many plants, each in their own designated border, and maintained well. There are tomatoes, paprika, potatoes, onions, green beans, a few lemon trees in large pots, extending their branches up to the glass ceiling. All of them are thriving. After those follow the herbs; rosemary, lavender, mugwort, thyme, oregano, basil, mint... You rub your fingers along a twig of rosemary and smell it. Delightful. Raspberry and blackberry bushes hide near the end of the greenhouse. On a potted rose by the other entrance, a note is pinned, right beneath the largest rose; a tender salmon pink specimen. You take it off carefully, and open it. 

In Lucius' small and precise script, it reads: "We hope you like your gift. For a long time, we thought about how to make this birthday perfect for you, and we decided to gift you the joy of gardening and cultivating your own garden. Narcissa took the liberty of installing it with plants she thought you'd like, and some extra. This area is now your corner of the estate. Our home is yours as well, and now, this is a place just for yourself. You don't ask for permission regarding anything about this greenhouse or the surrounding garden. Ever yours, Narcissa & Lucius."

You press a hand to your mouth, touched as you are. A whole greenhouse... They knew how much you love plants. How much you loved herbology in school, and how many herbs you'll need for potions... So they gifted you an entire corner of the estate so you could practice your hobbies with more ease. With a tear welling up in your eye, you turn around, folding the letter again, looking around at the greenhouse with new eyes. Your two lovers are there, walking in, and you run up to them, engulfing them in the tightest of hugs.

"Well, love, do you like it?" asks Narcissa, smiling and kissing your crown. 

"Narcissa did so much for the space," says Lucius, gracefully giving his wife the credit she earnt. "Although I feel this amount of lavender also benefits her and her baking." He chuckles, and squeezes you tight.

You nod, fully in tears now. "Thank you, thank you both. This is... above anything I ever expected. It's beautiful."

Narcissa points to the stained glass above both entrances. "Those gorgeous things were Lucius' idea, though. You deserve the beauty. We love you, dearest."

"We do, so much." Lucius' voice reverberates against your chest as he pulls you to his. He cups your face, making you look up at him, his stern face now soft. "Don't ever doubt that."

[em-prentiss]

baby, it's cold outside

----

Aaron reaches behind him for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “Are you dressed well enough?” He murmurs, his voice mellowing to the same tone he uses with the kids—loving, faintly chiding—as he folds the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it so that it curves around the lines of her body.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Uh, yeah—”

“Mommy, Daddy, look!”

“It’s snowing!”

Or, the Hotchners greet the first snow of the season.

Word count: 1.8k

Thank you to @/redasroses for the prompt! ;)

----

Emily closes her eyes and leans into Aaron, her frigid fingers curling around his elbow as she tries to leech warmth from him. It usually flows from him in superfluous waves, but the biting chill is smothering it, snuffing out the excess and leaving just enough to keep him warm. She’s more upset about that than she has any right to be. 

Fingers of ice press along the back of her neck; Emily shudders.

“Supposed t’be the coldest day of the year today,” she mumbles into his neck, shoving her cold nose further into it. “Think that’s true?”

“Feels like it.” His voice is in her hair, his hand kneading warmth down her thigh. “Where’d you hear?”

“Reid. And the forecast,” Emily shivers again, the cold still somehow finding her under the thick wool of her sweater. Giving up, she swings a knee over Aaron’s hip and slides into his lap, briefly astonished at the silence around them. 

She hasn’t seen the kids in over ten minutes. Emily is almost ashamed to admit she doesn’t care what it is they’re doing—almost—as long as it allows her this rare slice of quiet with her husband.

“Didn’t mess with the heating, did you?” She asks, his hand on her waist steadying her until their chests are flush. Emily knows he didn’t—it’s December, and Theo has inherited her perpetual state of cold—but the exchange of words is nice. She almost can’t remember the last time she idly talked to him, shared useless words that do nothing but provide her with the low rumble of his voice in return.

“No, honey. It’s December.” His brow quirks. Emily has to hide a smile, stopping its spread with a bite of her teeth as Aaron reaches behind him for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “Are you dressed well enough?” He murmurs, his voice mellowing to the same tone he uses with the kids—loving, faintly chiding—as he folds the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it so that it curves around the lines of her body.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Uh, yeah—”

“Mommy, Daddy, look!”

“It’s snowing!”

At the thundering of feet on the floor, Emily extracts herself from Aaron’s arms, slipping out of his lap and onto the couch just as the kids burst into the living room, eyes bright and color high in their cheeks.

“It’s snowing!” Jack and Theo say in unison, grinning excitedly—Theo with a missing bottom tooth. They crowd around the couch, pleading hands on their parents’ knees.

“Can we go outside?” Jack directs the question to Aaron, old enough to know that his will is easier to bend.

“Please?” Theo follows, beaming past the lisp in his tongue. 

“Even Janie wants to.”

Emily’s brows quirk, a smile curving her lips as she smooths Jack’s hair back. “Where is Janie anyway? You guys didn’t leave her—”

“’owing!” Jane announces breathlessly, tiny legs a blur as they carry her across the living room. Her soft socks slip on the floor before she reaches them. She teeters, arms flailing, and Aaron shoves himself from the couch, lightning quick as he picks her up and steadies her in his arms.

“Is it, honey?” He presses her to his chest, the low exhale he blows out merging with the kiss he presses to her hair. Jane’s head thuds against his shoulder when she nods, her fingers going to her mouth as Aaron pulls open the curtains and peers outside. His lips curve.

“It is snowing,” he confirms softly.

Emily smiles. 

“C’mon, Mom!” 

She’s suddenly being pulled off the couch, two persistent hands wrapping around hers. Emily laughs as they tug, ice digging into her skin as they force her up with—surprising—combined strength. Her blanket slips off her shoulders, pooling on the couch in a crumpled heap that steals warmth from her body. 

Jack and Theo drag her to the door. Emily lets out a disapproving sound, steering them instead to their bedroom.

“Coats first.” She says, looking over her shoulder to find Aaron and Jane following. Their toddler is contentedly wrapped around his neck, watching with wide eyes from her preferred perch up against his chest. Ever since she was born she favored his embrace, crying a little harder and taking longer to settle when he wasn’t there to put her down for the night. It used to make Emily’s chest twinge painfully—hell, it still does sometimes, when Jane makes a beeline for him the moment they step through the door—but in times like this, seeing the contrast of her colorful reindeer pajamas against his black sweater that she has clutched in her fist, soothes the sting.

The smile he gives her is soft, the heat spilling from her chest almost enough to chase the cold entirely from her bones. Emily gets tugged into the boys’ room; she cranes her neck back at Aaron, heels digging into the floor to stop them from pulling her further in.

“And a snowsuit,” she murmurs, meeting Jane’s eyes—her own—and giving her a wink, grinning when she giggles into Aaron’s chest, “a cute one. It’s her first snowfall.”

“C’mon, Mommy,” Theo whines into her leg. Emily places a consolatory hand on his hair, her fingers sifting through the threads.

“All of her snowsuits are cute,” Aaron smiles as he takes Jane into her nursery. “You made sure of that.”

Damn right she did.

“Mom.” A hard tug pulls her in.

“Woah!” Emily stumbles into their bedroom, only half exaggerated. “What are we feeding you guys?” She wrinkles her nose, raking a hand through Jack’s hair on the way to the wardrobe. Matching giggles follow her as she takes out snow gear and gloves (“Gloves are lame” “Well then I guess we’re staying in” “No! They’re cool” ) and precautionary hats, probably too thick for the light dusting outside. In the boys’ excitement, it hardly takes two minutes for them to bundle up—gloves and hats included, with no complaints. 

When she meets Aaron at the door, Emily immediately melts at the sight of Jane in her snowsuit.

“Oh my god, look at this cute little princess.” She croons, holding her hands out. Jane accepts, and Emily smothers the side of her face with kisses; she’s more of a clingy girl than a daddy’s girl most of the time, so affection is often accepted, even from Emily.

“Where’s your coat?” Aaron frowns. She’s still in her sweatshirt and sweatpants, not a stitch of other clothing on her.

“I’m good,” Emily grins. “I’m fine. Perfect, I’m all warm, trust me.” Liquid warmth is in her veins, getting hotter when Jane’s soft hair tickles the underside of her jaw. She hoists her higher on her hip, nudges Jack to the door, “Let’s go.”

“Mommy you gotta wear somethin’.” Theo scolds, frowning as he impatiently twists the doorknob.

“Exactly right, Mommy’s gotta wear something.” Aaron nods. The smile on his face is proud, if distinctly smug. 

Emily rolls her eyes, half amused, half touched. She’s just about to acquiesce when Jack moves, grabbing a scarf from the coat hanger. He wraps it around her neck, a concentrated furrow between his brows as he tucks it around Jane, careful not to wrap it around her. The wool settles at her throat as Aaron stalks away quietly, Jane’s head thudding on Emily’s shoulder as she looks after him.

Jack steps back when he’s done, his eyes assessing his handiwork. Emily smiles as she cups his cheek, bending to kiss his forehead.

“That’s perfect. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You still need a coat,” he frowns.

“Daddy got a coat!” Theo announces as Aaron comes back, fitting the coat around Emily’s shoulders. She smiles when he helps her fit her arms through the sleeves, shifting Jane from one side to the other as she babbles quietly in her ear.

Even without the coat, she was boiling a hundred degrees. 

“Now we’re all set, aren’t we?” Aaron asks the boys. They nod enthusiastically and he smiles, reaching for the doorknob. “We’re not gonna stay out there too long, though, you have school tomorrow.”

“School’s gonna be canceled,” Theo says confidently. 

Emily laughs, exchanging an amused glance with Aaron. “I wouldn’t be so sure, handsome.”

A sulk draws itself between Theo’s brows. A perfect mix of Aaron’s frown and Emily’s pout, his lips purse, curving to wrap around what’s no doubt is why. 

“Wh—”

“We can cancel school.” Jack pipes up.

“We can?” Theo gapes.

“We cannot.” Aaron intervenes. “Jack just means that you guys can stay home. Which is”—he glances at Emily—“unlikely, so don’t get your hopes up. Listen, we’ll be out there for 15 minutes tops, okay? Janie can’t stay out for too long and you guys have to get ready for bed.”

The disgruntled protests that rise are quickly drowned out when Aaron opens the door, letting in the cold air. Snow flutters down in a flurry, sinking onto the plush canvas that already coats the street in white. The boys immediately shoot off, running down the porch as Aaron calls out for them to be careful, the smile obvious in his voice even though Emily’s not looking. She’s lifting the hood of the snowsuit over Jane’s head, protecting the fluffy ends of her pigtails from the snow before stepping off the porch.

“Look at that, Janie,” she whispers, tracking her daughter’s eyes as they swallow up the soft flakes of snow drifting down. “It’s snow. Not enough to make you a snow angel,” Emily smiles, watching a snowflake catch on the tip of her nose and melt seconds later, “but we can do that tomorrow, yeah?”

“I think someone’s already attempting it,” Aaron chuckles, drawing Emily’s gaze away to Theo, on the ground with his arms and legs spread on the thin layer of snow. Jack is crouched down next to him, trying to gather the fallen snow into a ball.

Emily laughs, warmth bursting in her chest like fireworks. She looks up at Aaron, with snow catching in his hair and hanging on his lashes, and she thinks the cold isn’t as much of a bother as it was before. The chapped skin of her lips stretches over her teeth.

“Pwetty,” Jane mumbles, neck craned skyward.

“Pretty,” Aaron agrees. Emily catches the edge of his grin as he bends to kiss Jane’s forehead, his hands ghosting around hers on her snowsuit. She lets go and he lifts her up in his arms, a fond gleam in his eyes that makes her flush. “How about we try building a snowman, huh? A Janie sized snowman for Jane.”

Jane giggles, enchanted by the snow and her father’s attention, and as Emily follows them to where the boys are, she feels just as equally enchanted, her cheeks aching from the sting of the wind and her smile.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lost in the Lapse Again

Pairing: Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x dark!fem Reader

Words: ~3.5k

Summary: Mr. Freezy’s domestic bliss gets jarringly interrupted

Warnings: DARK, explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, over the pants foot job, unprotected vaginal sex), non con aspects, alcohol consumption, mentions of violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: ::Just a lot of evil giggling:: I’m not sorry.

Robert growled into his beer as he listened to his bitch wife chatter away in the kitchen, his dumbass kid playing with some stupid truck on the floor in front of him.

All his wife had been talking about for the past week was her new friend Suzy. Suzy was so funny and smart and it was so sad that she couldn’t find a man. He’d finally broken down and let her invite the bitch over for dinner, just to shut her up so he wouldn’t blow her brains out.

“I’m so excited for you to meet her, sweetie.” His wife cooed as she set the bread and cheese on the table. “I still wish you could’ve invited one of your coworkers to set her up with.”

“Really don’t think she’d be interested in any of them.” He said with an eye roll, smirking at the idea of introducing his wife’s sweet little friend to one of the gangsters he spent his days with.

He chugged the rest of his beer and moved to grab another from the fridge when there was a sudden knock on the door. His wife let out a small sound of excitement as she headed to answer it, removing her apron and putting it over the back of one of the chairs.

“Suzy, I’m so happy to see you! Lemme take your coat.” He wife said happily when she opened the door, Robert grunting as he searched for his bottle opener.

“Mary! Thank you so much for inviting me! I hope red is ok?” Robert cocked his head to the side as he continued his search. That voice sounded familiar.

“Red is perfect! Thank you dear! This is my son Billy.”

“Nice to meet you Billy, that’s a pretty cool fire truck you’ve got there!”

Robert set down his bottle with a crash as he growled under his breath and stormed into the living room.

“And here’s my husband Robert! This is Suzy, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you turned to face him, shifting your weight and offering him your hand as he stared at you murderously.

“So nice to meet you Robert.” You purred, fighting a smirk as he did his best to school the expression of rage that was taking over his face.

“Mmhm.” He grunted, taking your hand and squeezing it a little tighter than necessary as he shook it in greeting. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Dinner is almost done, why don’t you two chat while I finish up?” Mary said as she moved back into the kitchen.

“Sure, I’d love to wash up though. Could you show me to the bathroom, Robert?” You said, giving Pronge an innocent look that made him snarl.

He just grumbled and wrapped his hand around your upper arm as he dragged you out of the living room and down the hall. You beamed at him as he shoved you into the bathroom, laughing as he followed after you and slammed the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” He hissed, backing you against the sink as he clenched his fists to keep from strangling you.

“Aww, you’re not happy to see me, baby?” You teased, propping your ass on the sink and running your foot up the inside of his leg. “I was just keeping an eye on you when I ran into that sweet little wife of yours. What a peach she is!”

“Keeping an eye on me?” He growled as he fought the urge to shove his hands under your skirt. “Who told you to do that?”

“It’s just my own little side project.” You purred, spreading your legs wide and running your knees up the side of his body as you locked your ankles together behind his back. “Hadn’t seen you in so long, I was starting to get a little worried.”

He looked down and groaned. Your skirt had slid up your thighs until it was pooled around your waist, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy because of course you weren’t wearing panties.

“We haven’t needed each other for any jobs, you bitch.” He seethed, trying to ignore you as you ran your fingers over your slick coated folds, biting your lip as you started to circle your clit. “You can’t just walk in here and fuck up my life.”

“Oh please.” You said with an eye roll, sliding one finger inside yourself and moaning softly. “You trying to tell me that precious little thing out there is taking care of all your needs? I bet she cries any time you even bring up a position other than missionary.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as you grinned at him, choking on a whine as you shoved another finger into your aching pussy.

“Mmm, don’t squeeze too hard, Bobby.” You wheezed, grinding your palm against your clit as he bent to run his teeth over your jaw. “I know you love marking me up, but what would that pretty little wife of yours think?”

“I said shut up.” He snarled, gripping your wrist with his free hand and drawing your hand up to his face, inspecting your slick coated fingers closely before wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean with a groan. “Fuck.”

He smashed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, his teeth tugging against them incessantly before he released your throat and knelt between your legs. You bit your lip to stifle a cry as he sank his teeth into your thigh before mouthing hungrily at your sex. His tongue slipped between your folds and swirled over your clit.

His fingers pressed into your thighs with a bruising grip as you wound your hand in his hair and pressed him into you further. You turned the water on behind you to cover your whimpers as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mary called at the same time you came with a moan, your release flowing over his mouth and chin and soaking his goatee as your thighs tried to suffocate him.

“Don’t fucking say a word.” He seethed at you as he turned you around and pulled your skirt down to cover the marks he’d left on your thighs before leaning past you to splash some water on his face.

You just smirked as you felt his cock pressing against your ass, washing your hands under the water and humming contentedly to yourself.

He wrenched the door open and stormed out to the dining room, shooting you a warning glance as you followed after him.

“This looks so good, Mary. I’m such a horrible cook I can’t even imagine how much work this was.” You said, beaming at his stupid wife as you sank into your seat.

“Oh please, it was nothing!” She said waving you off as she moved to pour the wine. “I’m so glad to have someone else to cook for, Robert here has gotten so stoic about my food.”

She slapped his arm playfully as he let out a noncommittal grunt, avoiding making eye contact with you as he sank into his seat at the head of the table, right next to yours.

You took a sip of wine and leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs and grabbing a slice of bread.

He gripped his beer bottle tightly as he felt your foot running up the inside of his calf. You just grinned when he shot you a look, stilling your movement as Mary put a serving of lamb on your plate.

“So what is it you do for work, Robert?” You asked with a smirk as you took a bite of food, humming at the taste and giving Mary a look of approval as you tucked in.

“Oh, Robert owns and operates his own ice cream truck business!” Mary said with a proud smile, completely oblivious as you turned your body to press your foot into her husband’s crotch.

“Wow, that is impressive.” You murmured, trying not to look too satisfied as you felt him squirm underneath you. “I can’t believe a little ice cream business is enough to pay for this beautiful house.”

“Well, he works very hard to provide for me and little Billy.” She said as she beamed at you, still unaware of the fact you were about to make her husband come in his slacks.

“Yeah? You must be so proud of your daddy Billy.” You said with a smirk as you felt warmth bloom underneath the sole of your foot and slipped it back into your pump.

The stupid kid just shrugged and shoved his food around his plate, and you did your best to keep from rolling your eyes at the child. You fucking hated kids.

You made idle chitchat with Mary for the rest of the meal, lying to her about every aspect of your life as Robert glared at you and you pointedly ignored him. Mary started to clear the table when you were all finished, humming a little song to herself as she took away your plates.

Robert was still staring daggers at you as he untucked his shirt, hoping it would cover the evidence of his orgasm as he stood up to follow you to the bar.

“You need to fucking leave.” He seethed at you, pouring himself a scotch and downing it in one gulp.

“Oh, Robert.” You huffed sarcastically as you poured yourself a gin. “You are a terrible host.”

“Get out of here or I swear to god...”

“What, you gonna kill me in front of your little family?” You whispered, grinning at Mary as she flitted back into the room, already looking a little tipsy from the four glasses of wine she drank as you handed her a brandy.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Suzy.” She slurred, leaning against the bar and giving you a sloppy grin. “We should do this more often. Maybe next time I’ll invite my cousin George. He’s such a great guy.”

Robert snorted into his scotch at the image of that simpleton trying to make a move on you. You would eat him alive.

“That sounds so nice.” You said, taking a sip of gin and grinning at her. “I did have a wonderful time.”

“Yeah, we all did, Suzy was just telling me she had to go though.” Robert grumbled, giving you a meaningful look.

“True, I have an early day tomorrow.” You hummed as you downed the rest of your drink. “Should really get back to my place.”

“Oh, shoot! Well, Robert be a gentleman and walk her out to her car.” She ordered, taking his glass and shoving him to follow after you. “Wait, I’ll come too!”

You chewed on your lip as Robert trailed after you, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders as the woman babbled like a fool. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she wobbled on drunk legs and you shot him a wink as he tried to keep her from falling.

You climbed into the drivers seat and stuck the key in the ignition, frowning when the engine just clicked.

“Oh, no is there a problem?” Mary asked, looking a little giddy at the idea. “Do you have to stay? Robert, check under the hood for her and see if you can fix it.”

He rolled his eyes as he moved to check your engine, clenching his jaw and wrenching the hood up with a grunt. He frowned when he got a look at the engine. Your distributor rotor was missing, and there was not way that was an accident.

“I would call a tow truck but I think they’re all closed.” You said innocently, but he didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Nonsense, you’ll spend the night here and we’ll call in the morning.” Mary said as Robert slammed the hood closed and fought the urge to scream at you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you.” You purred as you slid out of your car and followed her back into the house, ignoring the look Robert was giving you.

“Don’t be silly.” She said as she staggered over the threshold. “I’ll make up the guest room for you. Sweetie, can you get Billy ready for bed?”

He just grumbled to himself as he ushered his moron son towards his room, barely paying attention as he instructed him to start brushing his teeth.

Having you in his house was like torture. He wasn’t going to try to deny that he hadn’t been thinking about you since your last job, that’s all he’d been thinking about. But this was his life, sure he hated it, but it was a good cover. And all he could think about right now was storming into the guest room and fucking you until you were screaming, who cares if his wife or kid heard. That frigid bitch hadn’t even put out in months and his cock needed some sort of release.

He shut off the light and sighed once the stupid kid was in bed, shutting the door and moving to his own bedroom.

“Isn’t Suzy so great?” Mary said as she slipped into the dumbest looking nightgown he’d ever seen. “I can’t believe she’s still single.”

“Right.” He muttered, slipping out of his clothes and moving towards the bathroom to wash up.

He listened to her idiotic chatter as he got ready for bed, his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips when he finally made his way back to the bedroom. Mary was passed out on the bed as he shut off the light and climbed in beside her.

You were still occupying his thoughts as he tried to fall asleep, his cock hardening as he thought about leaving pretty bruises on your skin while he split you open. He flipped onto his stomach and pressed his dick into the bed as he tried his best to drift off, grinding his hips into the mattress to try to relieve some of the tension.

He turned his head to look at the stupid cunt passed out beside him. His hand snaked under her gown as she snored lightly, sliding up her thigh as he tried to think of some way he could relieve the ache in his groin. She gave a small noise as his hand found its way to the apex of her thighs and he grunted as he found her fucking bone dry, per usual. There was no way he was falling asleep, so he got out of the bed with a moan and headed to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

The moonlight was coming through the shades as he walked in, and he grumbled when he found you leaning against the counter smoking a cigarette, bathed in silvery light. You grinned at him as you held out the cigarette, the sleeve of your robe slipping down your shoulder enough to let him know you weren’t wearing anything underneath it.

“That stupid cunt pass out yet?” You asked as he took a drag, not bothering to pull your robe back into place as his gaze raked over you. “She do anything to help you out baby?”

He snarled at you and tossed the butt into the sink before stepping into you and ripping the robe off as he fought the urge to sink his teeth into your neck.

“You fucking bitch.” He hissed as his fingers dug into your breasts painfully, making you arch into his grip with a gasp. “Who gave you the right to come in here and talk to my wife, my kid?”

You whined as he bent to bury his face in your tits, his teeth skimming over the slopes of your breast as you felt arousal seep down the insides of your thighs.

“You fucking love it, Pronge.” You muttered as you wrapped your legs around his hips and buried your hands in his hair as he bit and sucked his way up to your throat. “You need me. That dumb little wife of yours can’t do anything for you. I bet she’s never even sucked that big cock of yours.” You brought a hand down to palm the bulge in his pajamas as you grinned before tugging his bottoms down and wrapping your hand around his dick. “That stupid cunt even notice when you come home with my marks all over you, or does she only let you fuck her with your clothes on like a good little catholic boy?”

He grabbed a dish towel and folded it lengthwise before wrapping it around your throat and turning you around with a growl. You moaned as he shoved his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt as he tightened the towel around your neck.

He wrenched you up against his chest as he started to fuck you, turning your face with his grip on the towel so he could run his tongue over your cheek in a heavy stripe as you mewled.

“You goddamn bitch.” He snarled into your hair as his hips slapped against your ass, his grip on the towel growing tighter as you fought the urge to pass out. “I oughta blow your brains out the back of that pretty skull of yours. I’d do it if I didn’t think it’d start a fucking war.”

You just laughed in a thin wheeze as he pounded into you, your pussy fluttering around him as he restricted your air flow.

“Sure you would.” You said hoarsely as you thrust yourself back on his cock, meeting each of his thrusts desperately. “You’d miss this pussy after a week. You’ve never had a fuck as good as me, Pronge.”

He bit down on your ear lobe and brought a hand around to pinch your clit as you came apart. You reached over your shoulder to grip his hair as your chest heaved and your pussy clamped down on him, your release leaking out around his cock as you swallowed a scream.

You whined as he pulled out of you before throwing you to the floor and pouncing on you, drawing your knees up to your waist as he speared into you and you bit back a cry.

“You keep that fucking whore mouth shut.” He seethed as he ground against you, his cock already starting to twitch inside you.

He clapped his hand over your mouth as he thrust into you, grinding against you with each push of his hips as you tried to arch your back into him. You whined under his hand as he brushed his lips over your collarbone before bringing his face up to meet your eyes.

“God, you cunt.” He moaned as he felt you clamp down on him. “You goddamn slut.”

He ripped his palm from your mouth and crashed his lips to yours, swallowing your shriek as your orgasm crashed over you, your fingers raking over his back and leaving deep scratches as you squirted your release all over his kitchen floor. You grinned as he groaned into your mouth and filled you with his cum, his hips stuttering as he fucked his spend into you until it was leaking out around his cock.

You hummed contentedly as he rolled off of you, squeezing your thighs together as he stood up with a hiss and scowled at you over his shoulder.

“You look so good with my marks on your back, Bobby.” You purred, standing up and stretching. “You go ahead and crawl back into bead with that dead fish of a wife, I bet she won’t even notice.”

“You need to quit talking about my wife, kitten.” He grumbled as he pulled his pajamas back on. “And quit calling me that.”

You pulled your robe back on and slid next to him as he pulled a cigarette out of the drawer and lit it.

“I think you like it.” You murmured, taking the cigarette when he offered it and taking a long drag.

The phone rang suddenly and he moved quickly to answer it as you took another pull, opening the window above the sink and blowing the smoke out into the cold night air.

“Pronge.” He said as he lifted the receiver to his ear, taking the cigarette back from you as he listened to whoever was on the line. “Yeah? How much?”

He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing information down as you watched him, finishing off the butt and tossing it outside as you hopped up on the counter.

“She’s not at her place?” He said as he grinned at you. “Something tells me she’ll get the information.” He hung up the receiver and set down his notepad. “We’ve got a job.”

——————————————————————————

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[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Nine: Friday

a/n: happy friday lovies!! I am soooo excited for y’all to read this one bc it was my favvv chapter to write and I still get emo over it :’) also I think I should maybe let you all know that we only have two more chapters left in this series, and I can not thank you enough for all of the love and support you have shown it. It has been such a blast hearing your thoughts and sharing Halani with all of you lovely people, and I can’t believe the fun is almost over :( BUT we still have some time before we have to think about that soooo without further ado here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor

Word Count: 9.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight

Monday

Harry takes a deep breath and raises his arms above his head, feeling every vertebrae stretch as he lies flat against the surfboard. The beaming sunlight warms him down to the bone and it threatens to lull him to sleep, but his attention is too occupied with the various sounds coming from each direction. Out of his right ear, he hears the waves lapping against the shore and the faint sound of children’s laughter. From his left, Mitch and Tom engage in a serious conversation about sharks. He lets one foot slide off the edge of the board and wade into the water below, all the while resisting the paranoia that he will be the next victim of Jaws thanks to his friends’ discussion. 

“I’m gonna go switch out the camera.” Paul says beside him, already swimming back to the shore. 

Harry gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement and lets the back of his hand rest against his forehead. He floats for a moment longer before swinging his other leg into the water and sitting up. His feet gently tread below the surface and he studies the area for any fish sightings, but his shoulders slump in disappointment when he doesn’t find any. 

“I just think,” Mitch defends, legs crossed on his own surfboard. “That I would survive way longer than you,”

“It’s not a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse, survival rate depends on how severe the attack is,” Tom shoots back. 

“Not if you’re smart,”

“Right, good thinking, mate. Just yell the Pythagorean theorem and swim away while the bloody thing tries to solve it,”

“You just don’t get it.”

“Stop bein’ a coward, then, and put your feet in the water.”

Harry shakes his head in amusement and continues scanning the scene for something else to occupy his attention. His eyes momentarily land on a couple in the distance, the pair facing each other on their shared surfboard and laughing. He smiles softly and glances back to the shore where his group has set up camp for the afternoon. Squinting, he tries to determine the time of day using the sun’s position overhead, but quickly gives up and swims back to the beach. The sand clings to his wet toes as he jogs over to his bag and digs inside for his phone. The time reads 2:37–Alani’s shift will be over soon. 

She stifles another yawn and punches in her customer’s order, re-typing it when she realizes that it’s littered with errors. Her mind had been in a permanent fog since she woke up at 6:45 this morning. Harry had already slipped out by the time she reached over for him, but he left a note on his pillow this time. 

GOOD MORNING SWEETS!

SORRY I HAD TO JET SO EARLY :( I’LL SEE YOU AFTER WORK.

 H ☼

P.S. ALREADY MISSING YOUR LITTLE SNORES ♡

As if on cue, Alani’s phone vibrates in her back pocket and she slips it out to read the new text. 

Harry: Meet me at Honoli’i after your shift? 

She really wants to, but she’s also in desperate need of sleep. 

Alani: Gonna take a power nap first, but I’ll be there 

Harry: Can’t wait xx

********

In the distance, Harry hears The Cure blasting from a car in the parking lot. He hums along and picks at his bowl of fruit, saving the kiwis for Alani who once said they were her favorite. Jeff and Paul laugh about something between the two of them before the director catches Harry’s attention. 

“How long you planning on staying here?” he asks. 

Harry checks his phone again and the time reads 4:35. He wasn’t entirely sure how long Alani’s nap was supposed to last, but just as he’s about to answer, a text comes through. 

Alani: Heading over. See you soon, sunshine💗

He smiles softly and shuts his phone off. “I actually have a surfing lesson at five. But I’ll meet you guys at the house after.”

Paul, the two Jeffs, Mitch, and Tom bid Harry farewell and decide to take a drive along the coast before heading to dinner. They mention the name of the restaurant they plan to go to, but Harry knows he’ll probably skip it and take Alani somewhere else. He sits back on his elbows, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze, when suddenly his vision goes dark when he feels hands over his eyes. 

“Guess who,”

“The Queen of England?”

“Yes and I’m here to colonize your land and steal your jewels,” Alani jokes in a posh British accent.  She leans over his head so they partake in an upside down kiss before settling into the sand beside him. 

“You’ve already had my family jewels,” he teases with a suggestive wiggle of his brows. 

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are so insufferable sometimes, I swear to God,”

Harry lies back and rests his head in her lap with a shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. The damp locks along his hairline are curled and Alani twirls the pieces between her fingers. 

“Saved y’some kiwis,” he informs her, nodding in the direction of his tote bag. 

“Aw thanks, baby,” 

“How was your day?” 

Alani removes the lid and pops a slice of kiwi into her mouth. “Long, boring, tiring. A lot better now,”

“Feel the same way,”

“How’s your project going?” she questions, curious about his recent, mysterious whereabouts. 

He shrugs. “S’fine, yeah,”

“What exactly is it, again?”

“It’s a,” Harry starts slowly. “Video thing… kind of,”

Alani narrows her eyes and lifts another piece of fruit to her lips. “Meaning?”

“It’s like—following uh.. the album ‘n stuff,”

“Ah the elusive album,” Alani nods. “Will I ever get to hear any of it?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“Dunno,” he blinks. “When’re you gonna let me read that article of yours?”

She smirks and taps her fork against her lower lip. “When it’s ready,”

“Then I’m withholding my thing ‘til it’s ready too,”

“That’s not fair,” she objects. “My article is contingent on your music,”

“One song,” Harry bargains, holding up his index finger. “In exchange for one paragraph. Seems fair to me,”

“Deal,”

He sits up suddenly and opens his mouth as an unspoken request for a kiwi. Alani tosses it in his direction and to her surprise, he catches it effortlessly. 

“You really are a freak of nature,” she marvels. “What can’t you do?”

“Stay away from you, apparently,” 

“Ditto,”

“D’you wanna head to the water for a bit?” Harry asks, his eyes landing on the board cast to the side.

Alani nods. “Sure thing,”

She strips down to the pink two piece underneath her clothes and accepts his outstretched hand. They shuffle through the sand, joint hands swinging, but Harry stops and scans her face when they reach the edge. 

“What?” Alani asks, already dipping her toes in the water. 

He runs his thumb over hers and starts hesitantly. “I know the water is kind of…”

“Oh,” she finishes when he trails off. “Yeah. I mean, for the most part I’m okay with it. Last time was just—I wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’m really sorry for that.” Harry apologizes with a somber look in his eye. 

Alani reaches her free hand out to his cheek and offers a comforting smile. “No, it’s okay. I actually used to be pretty good at surfing,”

“Oh?”

“Haven’t really done it in years, though. I’m probably really rusty now,”

“Well maybe it’s time to get back on the horse,” Harry urges, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm before leading them further into the waves. Alani gets up on the board first and it's clear that she’s a natural despite the lack of practice. Her muscles fall into a mesmerizing rhythm as they repeat the very motions she had done thousands of times before her accident. Harry’s eyes carefully study the precision of her determined arms slicing through the water and the way her feet gracefully meet the board once she’s found a strong enough wave. She glides back to the beach and revels in the familiar feeling of the ocean breeze against her skin. Harry whistles from the distance as she reaches the shore, turning back to him with a wide grin and two thumbs up. 

“Your turn,” she calls, paddling towards him on her stomach. 

Harry replaces her on the board and winces. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,”

“You’re gonna do great,” Alani insists. “Tighten your core muscles. Oh! And bend your knees, not your back. Just trust your instincts and follow through,”

He follows her advice and to his surprise, does well, though not nearly as graceful as she had. Despite this, Alani cheers from the side as he glides back to the beach. Harry takes a bow once his feet have safely met the sand below. 

“I knew you could do it,” she beams when he swims back to her. 

“Couldn’t have done it without my amazing coach,” he shoots back, leaning down to press a salty kiss to her lips. 

With Harry’s help, she swings her leg over the board and sits so that they face each other. Their legs paddle gently below the surface and his hand finds the top of her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

“You were incredible out there,” he muses. “Can’t even tell that you’re out of practice,”

She wrings her hair out and fastens it into a low bun at the base of her neck. “Guess it’s like riding a bike—the muscle memory and all that,”

“You’re a great coach, you know. Cause I usually just wipe out,”

“That’s normal,” Alani nods. “You have to get used to falling. And wait for the right wave,”

Harry admires the way the afternoon sun sets her aglow, skin shimmering and golden under the rays. “How d’you know when it’s the right one?”

“You just feel it I guess. It’s like a gut instinct that you have to follow. And no second guessing yourself, either, cause that’s when you mess up,”

“What if you do go for it and you still wipe out?” He questions, something besides surfing in the back of his mind. 

Alani sighs. “Then you wipe out,”

“You just have to trust?”

“You just have to trust,”

Harry hums as he considers this. Three burning syllables bounce around in his skull, but he suppresses them for the time being. Carefully, he lifts himself to his feet and motions for Alani to do the same. It takes them a second to find their balance on the board, but eventually they do and Harry brings her closer with a protective hand on the middle of her back. 

“D’you trust me?” he murmurs. 

Alani studies the different shades of green in his irises and feels a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, so she decides to take her own advice and presses a soft kiss to his warm lips before responding. 

“Yes.”

Carefully, Harry takes a step back and twirls Alani before pulling her flush to his chest and swaying to the music stuck in his brain. As best they can, the pair dances on the surface of the board but Harry’s foot gets caught in a slick spot and he tumbles backwards, bringing Alani with him. When they emerge, his heart races in worry, but the knot in his chest eases when he hears her laughter.  

“Y’okay?” he checks. 

“Yeah,” she assures him, her legs snaking around his torso under the water. “I’m alright.”

The sky turns pink as they continue to wade peacefully in the water, and the entire time Harry finds himself fixated on the weight of the three little words nagging at the back of his brain. 

********

Tuesday

“Say it again,”

“No,”

“Please?”

Harry shoots Alani an unamused look through the corner of his eye. “Dunno what’s so funny about it,”

“Just say it one more time,” she pleads with a mischievous glint in her eye. 

“Tuesday,”

“Chews day,” Alani mimics and Harry rolls his eyes. 

“You’re so clever,” he huffs. “Really, a true comedian,”

She giggles and leans over in her seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute!”

“Yeah, whatever,”

“Okay, just one more—”

“Alani,” Harry chuckles, more endeared than irritated. “Don’t make me turn this car around,”

She pouts playfully and returns to watching the trees and passing cars. “At least I’m not asking you where we’re going,”

“You are so stubborn,” he shakes his head. “I told you we’re almost there,”

“I just don’t understand what it is with you and keeping secrets,”

“It’s about the mystery, darlin’, it’s romantic! Just trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Alani nibbles at the skin on her lower lip and folds her arms. “No,”

“Okay, then,” Harry says finally. “Now change the song. I let you have fun with one Taylor, but it’s getting old,”

“Hater,” she grumbles, shuffling through the rest of her playlists before settling on Madonna. 

Harry’s finger taps along to the beat against her thigh and his lips turn up when he hears Alani singing along. Her eyes are focused on the road ahead of them as she pretends to be in a music video of her own, creating hand gestures and choreography to accompany the lyrics. The chorus builds and she belts out the words as if her life depends on it. 

“I’m crazy for you!”  She performs, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her hands. “Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true. I never wanted anyone like this, it’s all brand new. You’ll feel it in my kiss,”

Alani presses a slobbery smooch to the side of his face and he groans, laughing when she continues melodramatically. The song goes on for another minute and Alani sings passionately out of tune, but it makes Harry’s heart swell. He briefly considers joining her, but decides to let her have her moment, too amused by the way she’s caught up in the emotion. When it’s finally over, she slumps down in her seat with a dazed look in her eye. 

“Gotta love the 80s,”

“Maybe I should let you join the band,” Harry suggests. 

“Really?

“No,”

Alani gasps in mock offense, her eyes wide. “Hey!”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses offhandedly. “I’m a sweetie,”

“A sweet pain in my arse,”

“Arse? Did you really just say arse?”

“I take it back, you’re just a regular pain.”

The two of them drive for another forty-five minutes taking playful jabs at each other and watching the lush greenery whizz by. Harry had been characteristically cryptic in his instructions the night before, an idea suddenly popping into his mind when Alani reminded him of her day off. He had told her to wear something comfortable and practical, nothing that could flow easily in the wind. Furthermore, he revealed that he would pick her up at exactly 7:00 a.m. which made her eyebrows shoot up. 

“Seven?”

“It’ll be worth it, promise,”

“Can we at least get McDonald’s hash browns for the road?” Alani had bargained. 

Harry chuckled to himself, too excited to deny her. “Sure thing, sweets.”

Welcome to Waikōloa Beach, the sign read and Alani wondered what could possibly have possessed Harry to drag her out of bed and across the island at the crack of dawn. Her question was quickly answered when they turned onto Keana Place where a lot full of helicopters were lined up and waiting. 

“‘Big Island Tours’,” she reads aloud. “Wait a minute, we’re not—”

“Surprise!” Harry beams, reaching behind her seat for a bag. 

Alani scoffs, her mind still trying to process. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Come on,” he pleads. “Been dying to do it since I got here,”

“So bring Mitch! Or Jeff, or Tom or literally anyone else,”

Harry gives her a pout and bats his lashes. “But I’d rather be with you. Please?”

“Harry,” she sighs, taking another glance at the helicopters before her. They did seem secure enough, enclosed on all sides, and he had driven an hour and a half just to surprise her with something fun and totally outside of her comfort zone. 

“Trust me?” he asks after a minute, kissing her knuckles gently. 

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

They exit the SUV and Harry takes her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. There’s a short, stocky man with dark sunglasses standing in front of one of the helicopters with a clipboard. He checks his watch when he sees the two of them approaching and reaches out a hand. 

“Mr. Styles?”

“Harry,”

“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Matt,” the pilot says with a firm handshake. “Is this your guest?”

“Alani,” she greets. “Is this…”

“It’s very safe,” Matt assures her with a warm smile. 

Harry squeezes her hand gently and looks over their mode of transportation. “How long’ve you been doin’ this?”

“Almost ten years,” the pilot explains. “I was a commercial pilot for twenty-five and then started this when I retired,”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of nervous fliers, then,” Alani speaks up, attempting humor to mask her jitters. 

Matt nods with a knowing smile. “Oh yeah. Plenty of anxious girlfriends who kick their boyfriends for dragging them into it, but they always enjoy themselves in the end,”

Alani’s cheeks warm at his assumption of their relationship status, but neither her nor Harry address it. Instead, Harry clears his throat and asks his next question. 

“So when can we go up?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Matt offers. 

Once the three of them have settled into the aircraft, he hands Harry and Alani each a headset and goes over the basic safety rules. Her heart races and stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath and wills herself to give it a chance. Beside her, Harry is enthusiastically chatting up Matt and being his usual charming self; his confidence is reassuring and she finds herself sinking deeper into his side for comfort. He drapes an arm over her shoulders protectively, sensing her nerves, and presses a firm kiss to her temple. After a few minutes of discussion with the air base over the radio, Matt gives them a thumbs up and signals that they’re ready to go. Another deep breath and they’re off, the ground growing smaller and smaller below. They skim over Waikōloa Village and head west to Waiulua Bay where the water is so clear and blue, Harry has a hard time believing it’s real. Alani peers down at the tiny people all along the coast and in the water and her throat goes dry. She feels Harry nudge her shoulder lightly and looks over to where his finger is pointed. 

“Down there you can swim with dolphins,” he says. “Looked it up last night,”

“And we’re not doing that because...?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin and laughs softly to himself. “How are you not enjoying this?”

“I am,” Alani insists, which is steadily becoming true. She watches in amazement as they hover over the expanse of the lush, green landscape along the coast. 

Over the headset, Matt points out some key landmarks and answers more of Harry’s questions. They pass over an active volcano and Alani momentarily feels a rush of terror, but her curiosity takes over as she snaps a photo of the molten lava below. She captures another one of Harry looking out his window before flipping the camera to selfie mode and making a peace sign. He turns to tell her something, but flashes a cheesy grin and presses a kiss to her cheek when he notices the camera. Alani writes a mental note to make it her lock screen later. 

After half an hour in the air, Matt points to the cliff on their right hand side and says they’ll be landing there for a bit as part of the tour. A 200 foot waterfall feeds into a small pool and he lands them on a ledge across the way. The three of them exit the helicopter, but Matt says that he needs to check in with the base and lets them explore the site alone for a few minutes. 

“This is incredible,” Alani marvels, looking over the edge. 

“Knew you’d like it,”

She turns to him and snakes her arms around his shoulders, leaving a small peck to his lips. “Thank you,”

While she had been almost one-hundred percent sure that she would never enjoy a helicopter ride, Alani is glad that she was wrong. She is even more grateful that Harry had encouraged, but hadn’t pushed, her to try it. If Alani had been absolutely against the idea, she knows that he wouldn’t have pressed it any further and would have taken her to do something more her speed, hence the dolphin back up plan. It sometimes felt like they were from entirely different worlds, Harry being more sure of himself and adventurous while Alani was careful and preferred to have things planned. But he made her feel brave and spontaneous without pressuring  her to change anything about herself. Harry had seen something special in her and wanted the whole world to see it, too. So he encouraged her to break out of her comfort zone and let her true self shine, but only at her own discretion. Over the course of the past few weeks, Alani had noticed herself opening up to new experiences and loving every minute of it, but this transformative feeling was far from one sided; because of their relationship, Harry learned the value of trusting his own instincts. For so much of his life, he felt like a member of an overcrowded democracy allowing himself to go with the majority rule even if it didn’t particularly please him. From their earliest moments spent together, Harry was inspired by Alani’s determination and self-confidence. He had always cared deeply about other people’s opinion of him and felt that it was his greatest weakness, but she seemed so unapologetically herself at all times. And though Harry sometimes worried that he was simply playing a part for the rest of the world, he never had to question who he was with Alani. She understood him, she grounded him, and amidst all of the unfamiliarity in his new life, she felt familiar and safe. 

“You deserve it,” Harry says gently. “To see beautiful things.”

Alani presses their foreheads together and studies his emerald eyes like they’re the rarest gems she’s ever seen. “Well I’m looking at the best damn view right now,”

“Although, I wish you would’ve told me we were going to Jurassic Park, I would’ve prepared my Laura Dern outfit.”

Harry laughs softly and slots his lips between hers, those three, pesky little words nagging at him again. Not yet, he thinks, but almost there. 

********

Wednesday 

Alani takes an extended lunch and heads over to the recording studio with food for Harry and his friends. He had warned her beforehand that there would be filming, so they agreed to pretend, just for the afternoon, that she was his assistant. However, their true relationship was as much of  a mystery to the both of them as it was to everyone else. Alani had considered, on many occasions, asking him to officially be her boyfriend. She didn’t know how else to refer to him when her mom had started inquiring about the Range Rover mysteriously parked across the street every morning. Each time Alani had gotten up the nerve to ask, however, she secretly worried that it was too soon, or worse, that he would say no. Much to her oblivion Harry had also wrestled with this question, and many others, but also feared her response. What they shared was undeniably strong and completely foreign, so they had independently decided not to put too much weight on the situation in fear of bursting the bubble too soon. Neither of them were prepared to deal with the fallout if it all came crumbling down. 

“Lunch is here!” Jeff calls from the doorway as he escorts Alani inside. 

He motions her over to the table in one corner of the room and helps her lay out the food, thanking her warmly when she declines payment. 

“It’s on the house,” she reassures him. 

The crew all take turns grabbing their lunch, Mitch ruffling Alani’s hair in a display of gratitude while he swipes his burger, and settle into various chairs and comfortable spots around the studio. Harry is the last one to claim his food and he lingers around the table as he does so. 

“Thank you, Ms. Hale,” he offers politely, itching to give her an appreciative kiss. 

She nods and returns the professionalism. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles,”

“How’s the weather?”

By now, Alani has come to recognize this as his go-to inquiry when he’s really asking for her attention or affection. 

“Full of sunshine,”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiles softly. The casual slip of his nickname isn’t lost on him. 

“Hey Harry,” the director calls. “Show Jason that Bob Dylan thing you were doing—watch, you’ll love this.”

Harry musters up a pleasant smile and quickly glances at Alani, wanting nothing more than to escape with her for the precious few moments she has left to spare. 

“Occupational hazard.” she shrugs as her cue of permission. His fond look turns apologetic before he saunters over to the rest of the group. 

Alani watches, amused, as he lifts a guitar and starts strumming a tune that she hadn’t heard before with a Dylan-esque lilt in his voice. The crew all laugh and encourage his impression, but she still wonders what the song is and reminds herself to ask later. After a few moments with the rest of the group, Harry’s eyes wander to Alani munching on a french fry and scrolling on her phone. Jeff notices this too and decides to help his friend out.

“Hey Alani,” he calls. “Come sit with us,”

She looks over to Harry and he grins eagerly, making room on the couch between him and Mitch. 

“Alani makes the best smoothies in the world.”  Jeff comments to the film crew. 

“It’s true,” Mitch adds. “Harry loves ‘em.”

A subtle glare radiates from the singer, but Mitch simply winks in response. 

“Well, you guys are my favorite customers,” Alani offers. “But don’t tell the others,”

The whole team makes Alani feel welcome and she’s endlessly thankful for it, making an effort to engage every crew member in some sort of small talk as evidence of her gratitude. Harry enjoys her presence among his friends and how easily she fits in. It serves as further proof of what his gut already knew: she was a missing puzzle piece in the image of his ideal life slowly coming together before his eyes. Alani checks the time an hour later and starts bidding farewell to the group, much to their disappointment. As she slips out the door and over to the Bronco, a familiar accented voice calls from behind. Before she has time to respond, a pair of warm lips meet hers and she hums. 

“They’re all goin’ out  for dinner at 5,” Harry explains gently. “Come back to the studio then, I have somethin’ I wanna show you.”

********

It’s 5:10 when Alani makes her way back to Napua. Harry had texted her beforehand to say that the door would be open, so she lets herself in and scans the quiet room. She hears the soft keys of a piano, but the room is dim and she has to get closer to see that it’s Harry seated there. Candles are perched around the room and Alani watches her step, reaching a hand to Harry’s shoulder when she reaches him. He stops playing and flashes a soft smile, inviting her to join him on the bench. 

“Digging the ambience,” Alani remarks lightly, not entirely reading his mood. 

He shrugs. “Just felt right,” 

Harry’s fingers return to the keys and he starts with a somber chord that makes Alani’s breath hitch. His vocals are raw and gritty, but stronger than she had ever heard him sing and it nearly moves her to tears. She hangs on every word and burns them into her mind for safe keeping, though she doubts that she could ever forget this moment even if she tried. Harry picks up into the chorus and leaves nothing behind, diving straight into the wave without fear of wiping out. Alani tries, but she can’t contain the tears that spill over her cheek. It’s as if every ounce of apprehension and anxiety, every doubt and moment of insecurity is cleansed from her soul right in this very moment. When the song comes to an end, she immediately wishes to relive it and tries to find the right words in response. 

“That was incredible,” Alani clears her throat. “What’s it called?”

“Sign of the Times,” he responds. “Not really sure about it,”

She furrows her brows in confusion, but quickly realizes that he’s being honest and not fishing for compliments. 

“Why?”

“It’s… different,”

“Than?”

He thinks for a moment and chooses his next words carefully. “Anything I‘ve ever done before,”

“And why’s that bad?” Alani questions with a comforting hand weaving its way into his hair. 

“Dunno,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t wanna get it wrong,”

At this moment, “it” isn’t just the song. Everything about his new solo career, and his life in general, is a toss up, and one that he isn’t sure will land in his favor. Alani has no doubts, though, not when it comes to her faith in Harry’s abilities. 

“Are you happy?” she asks. 

He looks over to her and thinks that he couldn’t possibly be more content. “Yeah,”

“Then you’re already succeeding. If you’re happy with what you’re doing, then no one can tell you that you’re not successful,”

Harry feels his own wave of emotions pooling at the bottom of his lash line and he’s grateful that the low lighting conceals it. He closes the gap between their lips, palm secure against the side of Alani’s face as he keeps her close. 

“There’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says gently and Alani feels her heartbeat pick up. 

“Okay,”

He isn’t sure how to approach the subject, despite the fact that it’s been the only thing on his mind for days, so he decides to trust his gut and speak from the heart.

“These past few weeks with you,” he starts slowly. “Have been the best of my entire life. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters, and nothing bad could ever happen to me because there’s you,”

Another tear rolls down Alani’s face and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. 

“All I asked for was a chance,” he continues. “And it feels like you’ve given me the entire world. Do you remember the day when we saw that rainbow?”

“Yes,” Alani nods, voice small. 

“You told me to wish for something, and I did. I wished for a home. I didn’t know why, but that word wouldn’t leave me alone after you said it. But I think I understand it now, because I’m in a place I’ve never been before, physically and in my life generally, but you make it feel like home. You bring me home,”

Alani feels as if all of the air inside her lungs has been sucked out, and her grip on Harry’s wrist tightens because she worries that if he lets go, she’ll float away like a helium balloon. 

“I know I’m not perfect,” Harry continues, voice wavering. “But this thing we have feels like it could set the world on fire, and I’d gladly walk in the flames for you. So would you please say you’ll be mine and let me prove it?”

“Yes,” Alani breathes, tears of relief and joy still streaming down her face. “But I need a moment to compose an appropriate girlfriend acceptance speech,”

Harry grins and presses their lips together as if she’s the only source of air. 

“Seriously,” Alani chuckles when they pull apart. “Cause how the fuck could I top that?”

“Y’don’t need to. Saying yes was all I needed,”

She unclasps her fingers from his, draping her arms around his shoulders instead, and takes a deep breath. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re the sun and the whole universe revolves around you.”

“And you’re the most heavenly moon,” Harry responds thinking back to the meaning of her name. “Mahealani.”

********

Thursday

When Alani’s father had asked for her help setting up a wedding that was taking place at the resort this weekend, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t often that she got to be involved in the events at Honu, but she adored the luxurious five star hotel and all of its amenities. She had helped her dad cater numerous events over the years and weddings were her absolute favorite, especially because of the beautiful gowns and all of the blissfully happy couples. It felt like a privilege to glimpse into the most special moments in the lives of strangers she would probably never see again. Alani had been tasked with meeting the bride and collecting any last minute meal cards or notes of dietary restrictions from guests. The wedding was to take place the following night, but all the food prep would begin that afternoon in order to adequately prepare. 

“I think that’s all. There were just a few last minute adjustments,” the bride, Mila, says pulling out an envelope from her bag. 

“No offense,” Alani starts. “But shouldn’t you be resting? I mean isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do all this? Or a wedding planner?”

Mila sighs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I know, I’m just a bit of a control freak. I like things done a certain way,”

“Totally understandable,”

“Like the music thing,” Mila rolls her eyes. “It was my fiancé’s idea. He said that DJs were boring and wanted to let the guests choose their own songs, instead. So that was my compromise. I’m trying,”

Alani offers a chuckle and shuffles the last of the cards into her stack. “Sounds like you’re already mastering this whole marriage thing,”

“Are you married?” the bride asks, curiously. 

“Oh, no I’m not,” 

“Got a boyfriend?”

Alani’s cheeks warm and her lips curl. “Yes,”

“Knew it,” Mila comments with a knowing smirk. “You’re too pretty to be single. And you’ve got the look,”

“What look?” Alani questions. 

Mila flutters her lashes and sighs. “The ‘I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it’ look. Like a Disney princess,”

Alani laughs shyly and focuses her attention back to the envelopes in front of her. 

“What’s his name?” the bride pries. 

“Harry,”

“That’s a good one,” Mila considers tapping her lower lip. “Like the Prince of England. Maybe you will be a princess, after all,”

Alani is amused by the irony of her statement, but she chooses not to disclose the fact that her boyfriend actually is British, albeit, not a Royal. Instead, she chooses to deflect the attention back onto the bride. 

“And what’s your lucky guy’s name?”

“Chad,”

“Like the country,”

“Yeah,” Mila giggles. “Like the country,”

“And what’s he like?”

Mila rests her chin in her hand and a dreamy look settles into her hazel eyes. “Funny. He wanted to be a comedian, but he became a lawyer, instead. That’s how we met— law school,”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Ironic enough,” Mila chuckles. “Family and divorce law. I never thought I’d get married, I mean I literally hear about people falling out of love every day. But the thing about love is that it’s effort, and a lot of people aren’t willing to put in the work. It doesn’t feel like work when it’s the right person, though. Just feels like ‘how can I be the best possible partner to this human that I love so much?’”

Alani considers this, her mind immediately wandering to Harry and all of his thoughtful gestures. “Makes sense,”

“Chad is a patent lawyer,” Mila continues. “He’s the more creative, outgoing one, I guess. He makes things light when it gets too heavy, you know? It’s good to have someone like that,”

“Yeah, definitely,”

“What’s your guy like? What does he do?” Mila asks with a flirty grin. 

“He’s, uh,” Alani thinks for a second trying to be as vague as possible. “A musician,”

Mila gives an approving nod. “Dreamy. Bet he writes lots of songs about you,”

“Maybe,”

“Don’t be shy,” Mila urges. “Come on, it’s just us girls. Spill,”

Alani thinks for a moment and imagines that the same dream cloud must be present over her own features.

“Well he’s kind, thoughtful, romantic, and wise. Really funny, too. I don’t know he just—he makes me wanna be a better person, really,”

“Wow,” the bride marvels. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,”

“He is,”

Mila leans in conspiratorially and Alani does the same. “Speaking as an expert, I think it’s gonna last forever,”

“You think?” Alani asks. 

“Oh yeah,” Mila assures her. “When you’re so used to studying fake love, you get really good at recognizing the real deal,”

Alani offers her an appreciative smile and nods. “Thank you,”

Mila’s eyes light up suddenly and she grabs Alani by both hands. “Hey you should bring him! Yeah, you two should come, I insist,”

“Oh, I—”

“Please, say you will! Maybe he can throw in some good music recommendations to offset the terrible ones,”

Alani chuckles and she knows immediately that Harry would leap at the chance to do so. “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mila cheers, reaching into her planner and jotting a note down. “Harry and Alani at the lovebird’s table.”

********

“Hey, sweets,” Harry beams, pulling up to the front of the hotel in the Cadillac. “Waiting on your boyfriend or are you just in the habit of standing on sidewalks lookin’ cute?”

“The former,” Alani responds coyly. “He’ll be here any minute,” 

“And he’s got a pretty girl like you waiting outside like this? You should dump him,”

She shrugs and turns on her heel for a stroll while Harry gently eases off the breaks to follow. “I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of him,”

“S’that so?” he continues with a smirk. 

“Yup,” she sighs. “He’s kind of a dork, but I like that about him,” 

“Heyyy—”

“And he’s a good kisser. The best at cuddling, too,” 

“Sounds like a catch,” 

“He is. You two should meet sometime,”

The car comes to a halt and Alani slips inside, scooting all the way down the bench seat next to Harry. 

“Funny, you should be a comedian,” he quips.

Alani’s brow furrows and she shoots him a doe-eyed look. “What’s the joke?”

Harry laughs dryly, ignoring the pang of irrational jealousy that strikes him in the chest. “You’re a little too good at this bit, it’s starting to feel like we're not talkin’ about me anymore,”

“Oh, were we supposed to be talking about you?” 

His head whips over to Alani who clutches her stomach with laughter. “I’m kidding, baby, of course I’m talking about you,” 

“No, who is he?” Harry demands playfully with a deep furrow between his brows. “Tell me, I’ll hurt him,” 

Alani slots their lips together and his pout eases into a grin. 

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow night?” she asks, feeling the ocean breeze through her hair. 

Harry flashes a dimple in her direction. “Anything you want, s’long as we’re together,”

“Will you be my plus one?”

“To?”

“A wedding,” Alani explains. “The one my dad’s catering at Honu,”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “Are we crashing it?”

“No,” she laughs. “We were invited. I was hanging out with the bride today and she added us to the list,”

“‘Kay, but I’m still gonna pretend we crashed it,”

Alani drapes her arms around his shoulders and leans her head against his. “Where are we going?”

“Damn, I thought I had you distracted,”

“Boyfriend rule #1: You have to tell me where we’re going always,”

Harry narrows his eyes. “That’s not a real rule because surprises are romantic,”

“Too bad,” Alani shrugs.

“But don’t you enjoy my surprises?”

“Usually,”

“Then I’m adding a new rule,” Harry bargains. “The girlfriend can not ask the boyfriend to disclose the location of a date if they’re already in the car,”

“That’s not fair, I was already in the car when the rule was made!”

“Too bad.”

Alani pinches his cheek and slinks back into her own seat. She tells him about the bride and the groom, what she knows, at least, and about the decision to have their guests RSVP with a song of their choice to play at the reception. 

“D’you know what you’re gonna pick?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah,” Alani nods. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody by Whitney Houston, obviously,”

“Obviously,” he agrees. 

“You?”

“Dunno, yet. Have to narrow it down,”

Alani admires the heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Well you better make it good, cause Mila knows that you’re a musician and she’s expecting you to balance out her friends’ shitty music taste,”

“You were talkin’ about me?” he teases. 

“Well, yeah, how else do you think you got invited?”

“You have such a crush on me, s’cute,”

Alani playfully pokes his cheek. “We’re literally dating, dummy,”

“Don’t get defensive,” Harry jokes. “Cause I’ve got a crush on you too.”

“God, we’re so annoying.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her temple. They pull into the Port of Hilo and he magically produces a picnic basket from the backseat, a bottle of Moët et Chandon rosé peeking out. Alani slips her fingers between his and follows as he leads them to a sizable speed boat anchored and waiting for them. 

“The Carolina,” Alani reads, admiring the golden cursive on the side. 

“Like someone else I know,” Harry winks. 

He escorts her onto the vessel and she waits to see when the captain will join them, but confusion washes over her when she sees Harry poking around with the equipment. 

“What are you doing?”

“As much fun as it would be to eat at the dock,” he begins. “I think it would be more fun to take ole Carolina for a spin,”

“You mean you’re gonna drive this thing?” Alani questions, though she doesn’t know why she’s surprised by him anymore. 

“Pilot,” Harry corrects. “But yes,”

Alani blinks and tries to wrap her head around the idea of Harry piloting a boat. “And you’re allowed to do that?”

“Sure.”

“Wow,” she marvels to herself with an incredulous laugh. “I’m dating a sailor.”

Harry flashes Alani a wink over his shoulder and before she knows it, they’re heading away from the dock. She carefully stands from the lounging area at the back and sneaks over to Harry, arms wrapping around his torso with her chin propped on his shoulder. He steers with one hand and extends the other, recreating the iconic Titanic boat scene. 

“I’m flying, Jack!” he calls over his shoulder and Alani giggles, responding with her best improvised rendition of My Heart Will Go On. 

They sail out for a bit longer before Harry stops the boat and turns to her. “Ta da!”

“By jove, he’s done it!” Alani praises. 

Harry takes a bow and reaches over for the picnic basket, pulling out the rosé and two champagne flutes. He hands them to Alani and spreads their meal on the lounging area at the back: vegetable stir fry and noodles with chocolate covered strawberries for desert. 

“You did all this?” Alani muses. 

He takes each flute from her hand and fills them halfway. “It’s a special occasion,” 

“I feel like an asshole for not knowing what it is,”

“Don’t,” Harry chuckles, handing her the wine. “I mean it’s not really like—I just realized it,”

“What is it?”

Harry raises his glass and clears his throat. “Exactly three months ago, I got off a plane and I stumbled into a little café where the most beautiful and funny and smart waitress served me about twenty glasses of water until I nearly pissed my pants in front of her,”

Alani giggles at the memory, disbelief settling in when she considers how fast the time had flown. 

“And despite all of the embarrassing and idiotic things I’ve done since,” he continues. “She agreed to be my girlfriend, for reasons I have yet to understand. So today I celebrate her, and us, and all of lucky stars that brought our paths together,”

They clink their glasses together and Alani presses a cool kiss to his lips. “Cheers, baby,”

“There’s one more thing,” Harry says, holding a finger up. 

Alani scoffs. “It’s like fucking Pandora’s box in there!”

He pulls out a velvet box and her heart stops. 

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he explains quickly. “Sorry, maybe should’ve thought this through better,”

Harry opens the lid and lifts a gold chain with a crescent moon pendant and a smaller sun in the center. 

“Saw it in a shop this morning,” he says softly. “Seemed like fate, so I got it,”

“Harry,” Alani breathes, eyes already glossy. 

“D’you like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” she says, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

He fastens the necklace for her and she admires it with gentle fingers. The sun and the moon, a piece of them cast in gold and resting against her beating heart forever. 

********

Friday 

“Wow,” Harry gawks, his eyes raking in Alani’s appearance. A baby pink tulle dress falls just above her knee with puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, all cinched at the waist with a small bow. Tiny velvet hearts are speckled all over the dress, in true Alani fashion, and a pair of sparkling, pink heels accentuate her toned calves. 

“Wow yourself,” she counters, drinking in the peek of exposed skin behind his cream colored blazer. The blue dress shirt underneath is unbuttoned just above the butterfly on his stomach and a cross is nestled in the valley between his pecs. He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers between his ringed fingers and Alani accepts them gratefully, moving to the side so he can step into the house. 

“These are gorgeous, thank you,” she says, lifting them to her nose. 

“Welcome,” he smiles softly, swiping the pad of his thumb against her chin. “You are gorgeous,”

Alani presses her rose tinted lips to his carefully and pulls back to admire him again. “And you are so good looking it actually makes me mad.”

Harry laughs and pulls her closer for another sweet kiss before he hears the clearing of another person’s throat. 

“Have her back by midnight,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry salutes before bending down to address Freddie. 

Alani passes the sunflowers to her sister with a kiss to her cheek before hooking an arm under Harry’s and heading out. They hop into the convertible and the sun catches the golden pendant around her neck, bringing a soft smile to his face. 

“Hope those are your dancin’ shoes,” Harry remarks. “Cause we’re goin’ full Dirty Dancing tonight,”

“Lift and all?” 

“Lift and all,”

She runs her fingers over the silver rose on his ring finger.  “You know, I think we’re finally gonna nail it this time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

When they arrive at Honu, the other guests are shuffling from the parking lot and onto the private beach where the reception will take place. Alani plucks a card from her bag to drop into the box at the entrance while Harry pulls a medium sized box from behind his seat. 

“You got a real gift?” Alani questions, a light laugh erupting. “We don’t even know these people,”

Harry tucks the gift under his arm and shrugs. “I put your name on it too, don’t worry,”

“Well now they’ll have a giftcard to Ikea and whatever’s in your mystery box.”

“It’s also a giftcard to Ikea, but wrapped in a big box.”

Alani nudges his shoulder playfully and scans the groups mingling and flocking to the mini bar. She waves to a member of her dad’s kitchen staff attending to the hors d’oeuvres before they are greeted by the manager of the guest list. 

“Alani and Harry,” she says to the tall woman behind the podium. 

“Ah yes,” the woman responds. “The Lovebirds table, number 9.”

“Guess Mila wasn’t joking about that.” Alani chuckles lightly, taking both of their name cards. 

Harry locates their table and to his surprise, no one else is present yet, but he pulls Alani’s chair out for her and pushes it back in once she’s seated. 

“Champagne?” he asks, nodding to the bar. 

“Oui, s'il vous plaît." 

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and makes his way to collect their drinks. Alani’s eyes follow the stringed lights overhead and she quickly realizes that they lead to a disco ball hanging above the center of the dance floor. Well done, Mila. She thinks to herself with an approving nod. The colors, she gathers, are lilac and periwinkle, incorporated into all of the floral arrangements and cloth details. They match the color of the sky above and Alani knows that the bride must be ecstatic over this detail. Harry returns with their drinks and sets them down gently onto the white tablecloth. 

“None of our fellow lovebirds have arrived yet, huh?” he muses, taking a sip of his champagne. 

Alani shakes her head and brings the glass to her lips. “Must be too busy making out in the parking lot,”

“You told me we didn’t have time for that.”

“I’m not gonna ruin my lipstick before we’ve even arrived.”

Harry shakes his fist to the sky and Alani giggles. They both admire the view and the children in the wedding party who are testing how close they can get to the water before an adult drags them away. The sky turns to a shade of cotton candy above them and someone announces that the bride and groom are arriving. Harry and Alani stand and welcome the newly weds with applause and whistles. Mila and Chad share a sweet kiss and the crowd goes wild. One man, most likely a friend of the groom, shouts “I love you Chad!” and laughter erupts. They take their seats and the rest of the wedding party follows suit, which means that the rest of the guests are free to return to their chatting and socializing. 

“I’m beginning to think we were put in the time out table.” Harry jokes when they are still not joined by any other guests. 

A light laugh escapes Alani’s lips and she looks around. “Yeah I guess so.”

The servers arrive with their meal and the pair eat happily, exchanging witty banter and observations of the scene around them. Harry sucks a piece of linguine between his lips and turns to Alani with a mischievous smirk. 

“No,” Alani says, already knowing what he’s up to. 

“Don’t leave me hangin’,”

 “Eat your food.”

“Alaniii,”

She shakes her head gently and rolls her eyes, but decides to indulge him anyway. Their lips meet in the middle of the shared noodle and Harry smiles. 

“Always wanted to try that.” 

A few moments later, he notices a card in the middle of the table and lifts it. 

“‘Trivia,’” he reads. “‘Test your knowledge of the bride and groom and win a prize.’ Let’s play, shall we?”

“What’s the first question?” Alani asks, peering over to read the small font. 

“‘What year did Mila and Chad meet?” 

Alani hums, thinking back to her previous conversation with the bride. “They met in law school, that’s all I know,”

“2009,” Harry guesses. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Definitely Chad,” she replies firmly. “Mila didn’t think she’d ever get married,”

“I thought you said you didn’t know these people,”

“I guess I was wrong,”

Harry squints at the next one. “What are their zodiac signs?”

“I wanna say Virgo for Mila,” Alani suggests. “Maybe… Aquarius for Chad?”

“That’s my sign,” Harry comments, writing down her guesses. 

Alani’s brows raise. “No kidding. Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s yours?”

“Taurus,”

“I don’t know anythin’ about astrology. Are we compatible?”

“Probably not,” Alani teases. 

Harry shoots her a disapproving look and reads the next question. “Where did they go on their first date?”

“The movies,” she predicts. “Safe bet,”

“‘Akaka Falls,” Harry writes. “That was ours,”

Alani’s head tilts. “We weren’t even dating then,”

“Yeah but I was tryin’ to win you over, so it counts,”

“Sneaky.”

“Who is the bride’s celebrity crush?” Harry continues. “Hopefully not James Marsden or this guy’s fucked.”

Alani laughs and she pulls him in for a playful kiss to his cheek. The pink sunset dims into a deep navy and the stringed lights twinkle above, setting the whole scene in a romantic, golden glow. Guests walk past their table holding strips of photo booth pictures and Harry’s neck cranes to search for the source. His eyes land on a small line at the other end of the beach and he stands quickly. 

“Let’s go,”

“Where?”

“Photo booth!”

To Alani’s surprise it’s an actual booth, curtains and all, and not just some poor sucker tasked with operating a polaroid camera the whole night. They stand in line eagerly behind two groomsmen and brainstorm poses. Once they’re inside, Alani settles onto Harry’s knee and watches as he operates the machine. The screen counts down from ten and they decide to flash a proper smile for the first one. After it’s snapped, Harry sticks his tongue out and Alani widens her eyes in mock surprise. The third one is a candid, slightly blurry one of them laughing after she accidentally poked him in the eye. A lipstick kiss is stamped to Harry’s cheek in the fourth one, but the pair innocently look away in opposite directions. The fifth and final image captures their affection mid kiss. They swipe the two sets of photos and Alani awes, admiring the black and white film strip. Before they make it back to their table, Alani feels a hand on her arm. 

“Alani!” Mila beams. 

“Hi!” Alani greets, pulling the bride into a hug. “You look gorgeous,”

“I’m so glad you came! I love your dress,”

Mila turns her attention towards Harry and gives him a warm embrace, too. “You must be Harry! So nice to meet you,”

“Thank you for having us!” he says over the music. 

“I see you guys put the photo booth to good use,” Mila comments. “Now go dance! There’s an ipad next to the stage, just queue up your songs.”

Alani and Harry bid the bride farewell, but before they leave, Mila leans into Alani’s ear and whispers “he’s a hottie!” with a wink. They set their photos down inside Alani’s purse and Harry leads her towards the dance floor. She punches in her request and he secretly types the song that’s been stuck in his head all week. Fantasy by Mariah Carey is already playing when they reach the floor, so they join in excitedly. Alani’s hips sway and Harry’s head bobs, both of them mouthing the lyrics. The song fades and Alani’s pick begins, which makes the crowd roar. 

“The people have spoken and they love Whitney!” she cheers. 

Harry twirls her and shuffles his feet. Alani shimmies and sings along, the lyrics falling from her lips like a prayer. 

I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody 

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody 

With somebody who loves me 

The dance floor is flooded with bodies jumping and swaying, and the disco ball shimmers above the euphoric scene. Alani and Harry spin, making their way through the crowd and letting the music sweep over them like a magical spell. Beads of sweat form at the back of her neck and she lifts her wavy locks to let the ocean breeze cool her down, but her feet don’t stop moving. Eventually, her song peters out and a familiar guitar fills its place. 

“I love this song!” Alani cries, immediately recognizing The Cure. 

Harry pulls her closer, despite the warmth radiating from both of their bodies, and presses a passionate kiss to her lips. They are surrounded on every side, but in this very moment under the full moon and shimmering disco ball, Harry and Alani feel like the only two people alive. Their foreheads meet and they sway gently, his hands secure at her waist while her fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck. 

It’s Friday, I’m in love. 

[half-bakedboy]

A Real Good Big Brother (read on ao3)

Celebrating my 200th fic posted to AO3 🎉

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid Rated: General Summary: “I think I would be a real good big brother,” Jack noted one Saturday morning as Spencer assisted him in mixing the pancake batter Hotch had stashed in one of the top cabinets. Hotch was sipping coffee out of a mug Jack had made him at school - it was adorned with big bold letters that read ‘MY DADS A SUPERHERO’ and Hotch favored it over most other projects his son had created for him - when the words registered in his mind.

His brain tried to form a coherent response but instead, he sputtered as his caramel flavored coffee dripped down his chin and onto the tablet displayed on the table. Spencer whirled on him as he coughed and Hotch wiped frantically at his mouth as Jack followed his gaze with a wide-eyed stare.

“Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

“I think I would be a real good big brother,” Jack noted one Saturday morning as Spencer assisted him in mixing the pancake batter Hotch had stashed in one of the top cabinets. Hotch was sipping coffee out of a mug Jack had made him at school - it was adorned with big bold letters that read ‘MY DADS A SUPERHERO’ and Hotch favored it over most other projects his son had created for him - when the words registered in his mind. 

His brain tried to form a coherent response but instead, he sputtered as his caramel flavored coffee dripped down his chin and onto the tablet displayed on the table. Spencer whirled on him as he coughed and Hotch wiped frantically at his mouth as Jack followed his gaze with a wide-eyed stare. Hotch waved them off as he struggled with his breath and Jack seemed to take the gesture easily with a shrug of his shoulders, clearly too focused on the prospect of pancakes to care that his dad had choked. He turned back to Spencer who was almost at his eye level from where Jack stood on the stepstool kept in the kitchen specifically for mornings like that one and smiled brightly at him. 

“Daddy needs to learn how to drink his caw-fee,” Jack said through his giggles. Spencer ruffled his hair before he used his thumb to swipe a bit of powder off of Jack’s nose and the boy scrunched his nose in response. 

“Your dad was probably a bit surprised by what you said,” Spencer said easily as he continued to help Jack stir the still lumpy batter. Jack looked up at him and tilted his head in confusion. 

“Eloise at school is gonna be a big sister and she said her mom and dad are teaching her how to help out ‘round the house,” Jack said excitedly as he reached for the blueberries on the counter, his tongue poking from his mouth in concentration as he plopped a few into the bowl. When he was satisfied with the ratio, he continued, “She said that her mom was teachin’ her how to make a bottle, which seems like a lot of work for a baby sister.” 

Spencer chuckled softly as he handed the bowl to Jack for safekeeping so he could spread the oil on the griddle. “Baby siblings are a lot of work, you’re right,” Spencer agreed and Hotch could have sworn he saw a blush rising on Spencer’s cheeks as he listened to Jack switch smoothly into his only slightly convincing speech on why he deserved a puppy to grow up with. 

Hotch took the change in subject as a welcome few moments to catch his breath and clear his thoughts. He had known Jack hadn’t meant anything by bringing up the idea of a younger sibling, but Hotch had been more surprised by the surge he felt in his chest at the mere mention of another kid. 

He and Haley had talked about it, bouncing around the prospect of a sibling for Jack, as they inched closer to their divorce. Hotch had always seen the idea as another way for Haley to persuade him to leave the career that made him happy, like collateral of sorts to save their already failed marriage. He had grappled with the idea because, in his heart, he had always wanted more kids. He had loved being an older brother and no matter how many times he had seemed to be the only one there to pick up the shattered pieces Sean left behind him, he wouldn’t have traded his brother for the world. There was an increasingly large part of him that had wanted Jack to experience the same thing and to hear that his son had been thinking about it too was a bit too much to handle. 

Spencer was never quiet about his lack of paternal instincts or his worries of passing what he saw as flawed genetics down to an offspring so Hotch had never thought to bring up the subject. When they got together, Spencer had made it clear that he was willing to be a part of Jack’s life in whatever way Hotch and Haley had wanted him to be, and they had never discussed the topic further. The look Spencer had thrown his way at the mention had Hotch strongly considering broaching the subject for the first time. 

A sizzle and excited clap threw him from his thoughts and his eyes darted to where Spencer and Jack had successfully ladled their first pancake of the morning on the griddle, wide smiles on their faces. Jack had his arms wrapped around Spencer’s bicep in a tight grip, his toes keeping him balanced on the stepstool as he watched the batter spread. Spencer was focused on keeping Jack safe, eyeing him carefully with so much love in his eyes, Hotch’s heart seemed to stutter in his chest. Hotch’s gaze moved to his son whose smile seemed to light up his face, the prevalent gap in his teeth on display as he beamed at the mathematical symbol Spencer had created with the mixture. 

Nothing made Hotch happier than the sound of joyful laughter reverberating through the air as Spencer wiped his index finger across the edge of the bowl before smudging some leftover batter on Jack’s cheek. His son shrieked and jumped off of the stepstool, running to Hotch for cover as if there was no doubt in his mind that his dad would protect him. Hotch stood quickly, pulling Jack into his arms and holding out a hand as Spencer turned to them, ladle and bowl in hand. 

“You don’t want to do this, Spence,” Hotch said in the most serious voice he could muster given the playful circumstances. Spencer pressed his lips together as if concealing a laugh and glared very unconvincingly at the father and son. Jack was squirming in Hotch’s arms, giggles and squeals like music to his ears even if they echoed just a bit too loudly. 

“Don’t let him get me, daddy!” Jack begged as he threw his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed until Hotch could barely breathe. Hotch didn’t really care, though, because what better place for his son to be than in his arms with the love of his life watching on with joy in his eyes. 

“What do you think, buddy? Think we can take him?” Hotch said as Spencer walked slowly toward them and set the bowl and ladle on the table. Spencer raised his eyebrows in mock concern and tilted his head like a challenge as his bright smile etched into Hotch’s mind. 

Jack pulled away from Hotch enough to point his fingers at Spencer just as Spider-Man would and yell, “Let’s get him!” 

Hotch set Jack on the ground and they both surged forward before Spencer had a chance to back away. Jack launched himself at Spencer’s leg, gripping on as tight as he could, and when Spencer leaned down to remove him, Hotch wrapped his arms around Spencer’s waist and swung behind him. He pressed his fingers into Spencer’s sides where he had known his partner was ticklish and Spencer straightened to attempt an escape. 

Spencer could wiggle all he wanted to, but Hotch’s grip was secure on his hips, his chin tucked over Spencer’s shoulder to hold his back to his chest. Jack’s giggles were only interrupted by the sound effects he created as if shooting webs at Spencer’s face. Spencer squirmed as if deflecting each shot before letting his head fall back as if defeated by Jack’s superhero moves. 

“We got you, Pence! Daddy and I got you!” Jack screamed as he wrapped his legs around Spencer’s calf and leaned back to stare up at the two men. Spencer had settled back into Hotch, their fingers laced together around Spencer’s middle, both of their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Spencer pressed a soft kiss to Hotch’s stubbled cheek and Hotch’s eyes slid shut at the gentle touch. “Yuck!” Jack scrunched up his face and asked with a voice full of disdain, “Why do you always have to make moony eyes at each other?” 

Hotch chuckled before returning a kiss to Spencer’s cheek and detangling them reluctantly. “Because that’s what adults do when they’re happy, Jack,” Hotch answered as he made his way to the counter to grab the neatly plated pancakes and bring them back to the table. 

Jack jumped onto his booster chair and Spencer instinctively pushed him closer to the table before pressing a kiss to his tousled hair. Jack swatted him away but leaned into the palm Spencer rested on his shoulder anyway. Hotch felt a tug inside of him as he watched his partner and his son interact and had to inhale deeply to stop himself from blurting out the question he had known he had to ask Spencer. 

“You know what makes adults even happier?” Jack asked as he plastered an innocent smile on his face. Hotch shared a skeptical glance with Spencer before he took his own seat and started slicing up Jack’s breakfast for him. 

“What would that be?” Spencer asked after a few moments of silence. Hotch should have known Spencer’s curiosity would get the best of him. 

Jack’s grin widened as his eyes darted hopefully between his dad and Spencer. “More kids.” 

[ladyfawkes]

FINALLY UPDATED after approximately 100000 years. xD

Tangled Just Before Ever After

Words: 4730

Chapters: 2/?

Overall Summary:

Have you ever wondered what happened to Rapunzel and Eugene immediately following their first kiss in the Tower?

How they explained to one another the ways they discovered the depth of Gothel's evilness and duplicity?

How they managed to convince the Captain of the Guard that Flynn Rider was suddenly no longer a threat?

“Look at this!” Rapunzel exclaimed, surprised, as she traced out an invisible line across his palm. “There’s some of those magicky healing sparks left on your hand.” The young woman pulled back her own hand so he could see and sure enough, Eugene spied some faint twinkling beneath the very top layer of his skin. “Whaddyaknow?” he shrugged. “Huh.” A thought occurred to him and Eugene wondered if the glittery effect was now permanent. He surmised that it shouldn’t be and that it’d wear off soon enough...hopefully.

Chapter Two: The Lock-Picking Frog

Eugene and Rapunzel sat down together on one of the lower steps of the Tower’s inner staircase. She took his left hand in her lap, turned it palm upwards, and said, “Wait a minute….” brought up the same hand closer to her face and peered at it quizzically.

“I wonder…..” Rapunzel quickly let go his hand and reached across Eugene’s waist, her own left hand now hovering over the rips in his doublet and shirt where Gothel’s dagger had pierced him. And although she blushed a very lovely shade of pink upon asking him, the princess asked, “May I?” while pointing to his right flank.

And Eugene couldn’t mask his curiosity; his eyebrows arose right along with his elbows as he gave Rapunzel better access to his midsection. Far be it from him to stop the beautifullest young woman of his dreams from unfastening his doublet untucking his shirt for him. And although Eugene politely looked elsewhere partly for her sake, and partly for fear he might lose his gallant resolve…. He still very much wanted to say something cheeky or pithy or romantic or --

“Looks like my theory is correct,” reported Rapunzel. “Hmm?” Eugene was bewildered and his brow furrowed. “Theory?” he echoed, not entirely able to hide his disappointment at the aloofness of her reply. This wasn’t what he’d expected from this interaction at all. Eugene supposed he should’ve known better.

“Uhmmm,” said Rapunzel, suddenly shy again, “Well, I had guessed that the places on your body where you’ve been wounded the worst and most recently would therefore most likely possess some residual magic.” She sat back up and pointed toward his torso, “Looks like I was correct.”

And Eugene raised his shirt to look down at the place where the mortal wound once was, glimpsing for himself the same shimmering phenom of which Rapunzel spoke. That particular sparkling penetrated far deeper into his flank than what appeared near the surface of his palm, however.

Rapunzel kissed the inside of her hand and gently caressed the healed area on Eugene's side with those same fingertips. It was a gesture so pure and tender that again he found his heart melting with just how gentle she was with him -- the hardened criminal. Because this particular sensation…..what he felt now, what he’d felt when Rapunzel was tracing and kissing every inch of his face, and especially when Rapunzel had initially and carefully healed the palm of his hand two days before….it was so fantastic and new. And what Eugene could not have known then is that he was positively starving for it. He soaked up every drop of her kindness as if she were the sole oasis in his desert of loneliness. It’s why the young man knew he couldn’t let her walk away from him even after their special night of lanterns had concluded.

For Rapunzel hadn’t merely healed his largest mortal wound with her tears or the slicing through his palm with her hair. Without disdain or mockery or any form of guile, this unassuming young woman was healing parts of Eugene that he hadn’t even realized were chronically aching and long ago flayed raw in the first place. He had become numb and oblivious to all of it. Yet this impossibly kind and loving young soul was offering unconditional acceptance to Flynn Rider, the misunderstood career criminal whom everyone in all the seven kingdoms (and beyond) had come to loathe. Since the moment he met her, Rapunzel’s mere presence had become like sweet salve for his bruised soul. Even if it took Eugene the rest of his life, he vowed to himself that he would strive to be worthy of his dearest Rapunzel.

Eugene carefully gathered up Rapunzel under his arm and she leaned into him as they embraced again. Rapunzel was….almost impossibly genuine. Is this what real love has always felt like??, he mused. There’d been times Eugene had experienced such deep sadness and devastation in his life that it felt like his heart would certainly break. In fact, he had experienced that exact emotion as recently as that very morning during his imprisonment….. And it wasn’t because he feared dying…..it’s because he was all but certain he’d never see Rapunzel again. Never get to rescue her from wherever the Stabbingtons had gone off with her.

Prior to meeting Rapunzel, Eugene hadn’t ever experienced so much love and peace and contentment, it seemed as if his heart might burst from inability to contain itself. Once again, he appeared to have dozed off with Rapunzel squished up against him. Eugene yawned tiredly, internally berating himself and wondering why on earth he was so exhausted…. Until realization finally dawned that it had been over 24 hours since either he or Rapunzel had been able to get any sleep or rest whatsoever. It appeared to have finally caught up to them now that the worst of the danger had passed.

“So...how did you figure it all out?” Rapunzel asked softly, still holding him close with her head nestled against his chest. “It had to be pretty early on. Especially considering our entire first discussion regarding ‘backstory’....” And Eugene chuckled.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he replied. “I had definitely begun to suspect something was up by the time we were running through that underground escape system. There were just too many coincidences. A few being that: a.) it was the 18th year of Corona’s lantern festival and you just happened to be turning 18; b.) magicalness notwithstanding nobody else in the whole world had hair like yours -- its length and tensile strength belied its beaming gossamer beauty; c.) I’ve seen children -- even young adults -- utterly terrified of their parents, and for good reason; while I originally thought it was just a figure of speech when you said you “never left the tower”, I came to know you were being quite literal...therefore d.) you had further cemented my belief that you are Corona’s princess when you shared with me the ways in which your magical hair worked.

Suddenly, some insistent squeaking noises in front of them on the floor broke into the conversation. Eugene’s head whipped toward his right and looked down.

“Well, hullo there, Li’l Froggy,” he greeted Pascal warmly. This caused Pascal to glance over at Rapunzel with a wry look as he sighed long-sufferingly. “Yup. I think you’re stuck with it now, Pascal,” Rapunzel agreed. Pascal held out his claws heavenward, shrugged, and then hopped up on Eugene’s free wrist and scaled up toward his left shoulder, around his neck, finally perching on Eugene’s right shoulder. He squeaked something lengthy to Eugene. And Eugene, who wasn’t yet fully versed in Pascallese, had to ask Rapunzel to interpret.

“First of all,” Rapunzel began, “he says that ‘Frog’ is a rather insulting nickname but he’ll cut you some slack, being that you died, came back, and fainted all in the past 30 minutes.”

“Whoa-ho! Well, thanks for that vote of confidence,” a smirking Eugene sarcastically replied to the cheeky lizard on his shoulder.

“Second of all, while you and I were...talking,” continued Rapunzel, “Pascal scared up that hairpin and sewing needle you’d mentioned needing for picking locks. He says if you hold up your wrist with the shackle and instruct him right now in real time, he’s willing to help pick that lock with you,” and Rapunzel grinned.

“A lock-picking frog, eh?” Eugene marvelled, in spite of himself. He couldn’t help it -- the still-too-loud-Flynn Rider half of his brain was going wild considering that potential. “That is definitely gonna come in handy someday, ” he said with a faint smile on his face.

Eugene grabbed in his left hand the hairpin that Pascal had brought. The young man made sure it was bent crookedly in a certain way at one end and handed it back to Pascal. Next Eugene held up his shackled wrist and proceeded to coach the little chameleon in how to use the tricks of a thief’s trade. Twice more, Eugene modified the end of the hairpin, always handing it back to Pascal. Within about 90 seconds, the rusted manacle had popped open and slid off Eugene’s wrist onto the floor…..where he couldn’t help but notice a blood stain on the nearby tile below.

To divert Rapunzel’s attention (and his own), Eugene hastily put his boot over the top of the stain and made a big show of finally being free of the manacle. “Ahhh!!” he massaged his right wrist, “that’s more like it! Tiny high-fives, Froggy!” Eugene reached out his index finger toward Pascal who was still perched upon his right shoulder. The chameleon then “fived” Eugene’s fingertip with his bitzy claw.

Rapunzel helped Eugene all the way to his feet and with great relief, he stretched his long legs and even longer back all the way up to his full considerable height. As he was stretching over backward, allowing his spine some satisfying cracks, Eugene surprisingly felt someone touching his bare skin and stole a downward glance at Rapunzel, who was once again examining the former wound in his side.

The young woman noticed a bit too late that she’d already been seen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Eugene had stopped stretching and was now peering down at her. Rapunzel instantly withdrew her hands as that now familiar delightful shade of pink blossomed under her freckles and she mumbled an apology. She instinctively backed away a step, looked up, and said, "You're even taller than I remembered."

[cxmetery-gates]

VALOR - DARTH MAUL

PROLOGUE: FREEDOM

SUMMARY: Ucilla Zykoff, a troubled Padawan, and her Master are sent to protect Duchess Satine Kryze alongside Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. However, an ambush leaves Ucilla wither her first taste of freedom. WORD COUNT: 2k NOTES: I told myself not to make a Darth Maul fic. Oops. I also told myself to just make my OC human and definitely do not create a race of near-humans. Didn’t do that either. I’ll be posting a ramble about Ucilla’s species in the future! WARNINGS: sci-fi violence, kinda angsty?

VALOR MASTERLIST

THROUGH THICK CLOUDS OF DUST and an onslaught of armored fighters closing in, a racing heart hammered as erratic as the blaster fire pointed in her direction. Wrath encased the young girl, white-hot rage allowing for her power to extend to the weapons stationed in her hands. A fuchsia hue lit up her surroundings as each blade swung, a bubble appearing as if forming a shield to deflect the oncoming storm.

Ucilla Zykoff huffed at a lock of loose icy blonde hair that attempted to block her vision. Her palms were beginning to perspire as she worked beside her Master, blocking blaster fire and reflecting them back into the chest of her enemies. The rebels were no match against two well-trained Jedi, so her bewilderment as to why the Mandalorian terrorists were not aware of their eventual defeat was only natural for the hot-headed Padawan.

A beam of scarlet missed Ucilla's head by an inch. Recalling the time a blaster bolt constrained her to rely on a splint for a month, Ucilla, with her teeth bared, swung her lightsabers at great speed and agility, projecting two rounds through a pair of skulls.

The Jedi Council sending Ucilla and her Master on this mission was inevitable. Growing concerns about a civil war was on the rise caused by a heritage-based splinter group stirring up problems, leading Mandalore to grow more and more worried. To diffuse the tension between the planet and the traditionalist Mandalorians, the Council sent two of their best Jedi along with their Padawans to take care of the situation and to protect the future Duchess.

Peacefully and civilly, they were told.

One of Ucilla's lightsaber penetrated upwards through the ribs of a human who flew too close, the other blade thrown to dismember another while slicing through their jetpack.

Well, at least she tried.

Following traditional Jedi styles of dueling did not come as naturally as the offensive for Ucilla. As a Youngling, Ucilla was routinely reminded that the light side of the Force should control her movements rather than relying on defeat or death as her enemy's outcome. Ucilla guessed her aptitude for aggressive maneuvers was why Adi Gallia was assigned as her Master. Adi Gallia was one of the best of Jedi Masters: focused, determined, and, perhaps most importantly, strong with the light side. It would not have surprised Ucilla to find out the Jedi Council were hoping Master Adi would rub off on the girl.

Ucilla deflected another torrent of bolts, the swing of her two purplish-red lightsabers creating a haze around her lithe figure. Not too far away, the Padawan spotted her Master, a cobalt saber cutting through attacks as if this were nothing more than practice.

Amidst the battle, Ucilla suddenly felt vibrations beneath her feet, the tremble of echoes. Her mind was mostly focused on the assault, but her species' sensitive senses allowed for the Padawan to identify the peculiar shifts in the ground: the reverberation of what sounds like footsteps in a tunnel.

Confused, Ucilla willed herself to focus on the dirt, throwing herself behind a fallen building to lay close to the ground, pressing her ear into the rubble. As impossible as it seemed, Ucilla felt the quakes beneath the earth of Kalevala as terrorists moved in and move out, both above and beneath the surface. Suddenly, there were scattered explosions, the dirt beginning to loosen and with her sharp senses, Ucilla could sense what her Master could not.

Per his instruction, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Duchess Satine Kryze took a speeder to the rendezvous point, their hide-out on Kalevala. What was supposed to be an investigation into the seeming ghost town turned into the battle Ucilla and the two Jedi Masters face alone in the center of the city― nearing the heart of the next attack.

"Kriff," swore Ucilla, bouncing up to her feet. During the ambush, Ucilla and Master Adi became separated from Master Jinn. Before their separation, Master Jinn made the remark that this could have been a trap to capture the Duchess while in search of food and supplies. Ucilla, ever the pessimist, agreed with the Jedi Master's assessment, but she wasn't prepared for the explosions erupting under her feet as the Mandalorians' attempt to usurp the future ruler.

In hindsight, the action makes complete sense for their war-hungry kind. Looking at where she was, to blow up an entire city just to undermine four Jedi is in ancient Mandalorian style, after all.

Her thoughts shifted to the Padawan and Duchess. Both Jedi Masters ordered Obi-Wan and Duchess Satine to head back to their hide-out before so much as a scout found them. Now, Ucilla wondered how long they were in the enemy sights. Fearing the worst, Ucilla could only imagine the fight Obi-Wan and the Duchess found themselves in now.

"Master!" Ucilla cried out, rushing towards Adi. The two Jedi make haste to hide behind debris. With their backs against the dusty, fallen pillar, Ucilla took several deep breathes before facing her Master. "There's a tunnel system beneath us, and from what I've learned about these traditionalists, I don't think they're just for soldier transportation. I think the Mandalorians are setting off bombs to destroy the city."

Master Adi nodded. "They want to take over Kalevala the only way they know how: through destruction."

"Unfortunately," Ucilla growled, ducking her head as a shot skimmed over the pillar. "We need to get out of here. I sense something worse than blasters if we do not leave."

The Tholothian give an aspirated exhale. "Try to retreat to the alley," Master Adi responded. "From there, we will find Master Jinn."

Ucilla looked behind her where Master Adi's eyes were trained. An alley could be spotted but there was a far and wide opening between them and safety. But orders were orders, and a good Padawan listens to their Master.

The Jedi leap from their position, finding an assault of beams pointed in their direction. Ucilla could not tell for sure, but it seemed as though the number of Mandalorians multiplied by tenfold. Even with two fuchsia sabers, Ucilla thought another just might help.

And perhaps it would have: Ucilla fell to the ground with a yelp when blaster fire shot through her left shoulder. The sensation burned every charred piece of flesh that the fire dug through until it shot through the other side.

The blonde Scaki shot backwards on her back, rolling to avoid further hits. Unlike ever before, an indescribable shade of red passed over her vision, turning her agonizing pain into raw power. Had her Master had the time, Master Adi most likely would have scolded her Padawan for using the Force to propel a dozen advancing Mandalorians straight into the buildings so fast that they had no time to scream before death took them.

"Ucilla!" the Master cried, scarcely lifting her eyes from blasters. "Are you alright? Can you get to safety?"

The voice of Master Adi broke Ucilla's concentration, a good thing for everyone.

Grunting with a shake of her head, Ucilla stood, attaching one saber to her belt while the other continued to block incoming attacks. "Go," the Padawan shouted, "I'll cover you, Master."

As though the earth below let out a large exhale, the ground beneath the square quaked, a rumble coming from the underground. For a moment, Ucilla, Master Adi, and the rebels ceased all fire as their balance became lost.

No one found their ground again. With another mighty roar, the earth was close to collapse. Ucilla knew this, so did Adi.

The Force was hesitant with Ucilla's desires, as if pleading not to. Ucilla was not after a suicide mission, but the fear of her permanent death did strike a punch to her courage. As long as she planned it timely, she would survive.

And she was right.

Just moments before, Ucilla Force-pushed her Master several meters away and, no more than a few seconds later, Ucilla found herself running away from the collapsing earth, yet still caught amongst the rubble. Using all that she was trained in as well as the gifts of her species, Ucilla dug through the rubble, ensuring where she lied would not allow for rubble to completely crush her.

Ucilla's heart was loud in her eardrums. Darkness encased her no matter where she was. Her golden eyes were attuned to the dark, yet no shapes could be spotted in the enclosed space. The air was thick in dust, heavy in uneasiness. It was moments like these where Ucilla wished she had paid more attention in her training. Though mediation was an easy skill, the impending doom disrupted all her thoughts, slicing through any kind of call she attempted to push out.

No matter how hard she tried to call out to her Master, Ucilla came to realize no one was coming to help her. It was not long before Ucilla felt her Master slip away, no doubt joining up with Master Jinn and Obi-Wan to relocate with the Duchess.

She should have known the Jedi Master would not come to search through the rubble. There were matters far more important than a Padawan: cities to protect, battles to be fought, innocents to save. The Jedi were sent to Mandalore to protect the world and the rulers from the rebel group, and Ucilla's passing would not hinder such plans. The Scaki girl would be remembered for her bravery and self-sacrifice.

Shock eventually took over. Before long, all Ucilla could feel around her was the dirt in the callous of her fingers and weight of stone trying to collapse. As though her breathing stopped entirely, Ucilla's racing heart, thoughts, and very life also seemed to slow down. The Padawan almost felt dead as she lied in a state close to rigor.

A great feeling entered her as she found strength to move. Fearing that she would perish alone under a fallen city, anger and preservation finally unlocked her lifeless body. Her hands pressed against the stone slabs, nails dig into dirt, and shoves force the rubble around her to lift away, creating an opening for the moons and starlight to fill the void.

Ucilla was cautious as she ascended. No life could be spotted according to her senses, but she was still not completely convinced. When her hands gripped the edge of the ground from where it fell, she pushed herself over, only to end up lying face up in the dirt, her breathing hard and muscles shaking.

The stars that dotted the sky looked similar to those above Coruscant. All constellations began to look alike after seeing so many skies on so many worlds. She found no home in the night sky she watched as a Youngling, and now, as she watches the interstellar clouds on Kalevana, Ucilla realized she never had a home. All she had was a cell.

It was not long before Ucilla let out a laugh, her golden eyes watching the stars shine down on her. Her pale hands reach up to cover her mouth, a giggle escaping between her fingers. It was only then did she feel the tear-stained paths on her cheek, but by that point, it was unclear whether those broke free amidst her turmoil or as she relished in her newfound joy.

So, this is what freedom tastes like.

Ucilla found her golden eyes lost in the fields of stars and nebulas. Just as them, she had no obligations, none to abide by or listen to. She had herself and that felt like enough.

As Ucilla walked towards where she came, she stumbled across her discarded cloak. After brushing away the dust, the now-presumed-dead Padawan slipped her arms through the sleeves then pulled the hood over the top of her head. Ucilla stuffed the lightsaber attached to her belt into the inside pocket in as she leaned down to grip a discarded blaster.

Kalevana was not completely desolate. All planets have populated cities full of inhabitants who want nothing to do with wars or Jedi business. That was what she planned to find, and Ucilla was apt to have her way.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@bonesaldente​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW!

[mrs-han]

Hello!! I see your request is open, so i was wondering could you write about jumin finding out that mc has a self harm scars? And she’s been trying not to relapse into her old habit but she’s having a hard time so it’s the only thing she can think of? Im sorry for my bad english 😅 and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay! Don’t force yourself to write it. Thank you, oh and also i like your writings a lot! Have a good day :)

~~~

You’re too sweet, thank you so much for your request! This deals with some fairly upsetting topics!

~~~

The delicate georgette sheen from your onyx long-sleeved dress rubbed harshly against your slashed arms. Of all times to relapse, this was the worst - Jumin was a guest of honor at a new hotel inauguration, and of course, he brought you along.

Palms sweating, you pasted a friendly smile towards every patron in attendance. Frankly, you were overjoyed with your husband’s success. But with you having issues of your own... it was difficult to be in a celebratory mood.

“Mrs. Han!” A sponsor quickly made his way towards you, bringing with him several other philanthropists. Anxious, you tugged the hem of your sleeve down, experiencing a sharp pain and a subtle ooze of liquid.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” the older gentleman beamed, hand extended towards you. “I am Tanaka Sato, a close partner of your husband.”

Again, you plastered a fake smile across your mouth. You reached over to shake his hand and shuddered as pain radiated through your right arm. Unconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tanaka.”

“It seems he has chosen a new aesthetic, entirely separate of C&R’s minimalistic design. Are you the inspiration behind this?” A chirpy young woman chimed in.

“I always consult with my wife before making any major decisions,” Jumin spoke affectionately, resting his hand on your waist and lightly tugging you close to him. “This project has been hers as much as it has been mine.”

Several of the woman blushed and whispered amongst themselves as the men took a subtle step back, aware of the power both you and Jumin exuded.

If only you felt as powerful as you looked.

“Jumin?” You flashed him a subtle look of desperation. “I need to freshen up, where’s the restroom?”

“Come with me, my love. Excuse us,” he smiled, his eyes bright and full of fondness for you, ignoring everyone else.

It still confused you, how he could look at you with so much love in his eyes. A whirlwind of emotion ravaged your stomach and chest every time he did it. Were you deserving? Certainly not. But he continued to gaze at you with more tenderness than Cupid’s gaze upon Psyche.

“Are you well?” He asked, the strong acoustic voice that overpowered the venue twenty minutes ago now a low, effete tone.

“I’m okay,” you lied. “I couldn’t find the bathroom, but I’ll be out in a minute or two! Go back to your guests!”

A lie was difficult to get past Han Jumin. But he kissed your temple and squeezed your arm - and you held back a mighty yelp.

There was a first time for everything.

“I’ll be waiting for you by the grand piano,” he hummed. “Take your time.”

After watching his withdrawing figure, you pushed the door to the ladies’ room open, flew to a stall and caught your breath before slowly unbuttoning the diamond buttons on your sleeves. Pain greeted you instantly as the cuts on your wrists throbbed unbearably, each laceration making up a heartbeat on their own.

Easing the sleeves up further, you winced. Dull maroon meshed with bright red, old droplets of blood met new. Unforgiving gashes punished you mercilessly, each slice reminding you of how stupid it was to relapse now, when things were so good. Why now? You were so beloved. So cherished. You had no goddamn reason to do this to yourself.

Choking back sobs, you recklessly pushed the stall door open and turned the faucet on. The water cold, you shoved your arms under and bit your lip, desperate to keep from crying out. Determined to keep your scars from discharging anymore blood, you scrubbed with the flat of your hand. The white of the porcelain sink and marble countertops, illuminated by the overhead lights, was now stained with red hues. You had to hurry before someone else came in - everyone knew your face. Anyone could report what they saw to Jumin, especially...

“MC?”

Jaehee.

Tears blurring your vision, you looked towards the door. Her eyes wide, she stood there, processing the scene before her. Hands shaking, you turned the faucet off and, trembling, faced her with what little courage you had left.

She continued to stand there, speechless. You had presented a fairly complicated situation to her, no doubt. Finally, she pressed her hand to the door. “There you are... I will let Mr. Han know.”

“No!” You bellowed. “Please, don’t!”

Conflicted, Jaehee hesitated. “Those cuts... they look serious. It’s best that I —”

“Jaehee,” you pleaded, tears falling down your chin. “Please. I’m begging you, don’t tell Jumin.”

Jaehee’s brows creased. “But MC... he’s worried about you. He’s been standing by the piano for over twenty minutes and now he is sending others to look for you... myself included.”

Overwhelmed and angry as more blood leaked from your opened gashes, you shouted at her. “He can’t see me like this!! Look at me!! Look!!”

Jaehee blinked and flinched slightly.

“I look disgusting!! My arms hurt, I... I can’t face him like this, Jaehee... please —”

“Have you found her, Assistant Kang?”

You didn’t have time to shield yourself. Jumin stepped through the threshold and froze in place. Completely exposed and frozen with fear, you stood before your husband like a deer in headlights.

A single drop of water falling into the ceramic of the sink was the only sound that could be heard.

“Leave us,” Jumin spoke to Jaehee, his voice trembling ever so slightly - his power slipping from him.

Obedient to the end, Jaehee agreed - leaving you stranded.

“What is this,” Jumin demanded, power seeping back to his voice.

You trembled. “Jumin...”

He moved closer to you. “Who did this to you?”

What did he mean...? His eyes trembled, moving back and forth between your arms and your eyes. Did he... not believe you could have done this to yourself? Did he not want to...?

You hung your head shamefully. There was no going back from this, no more hiding from him anymore. You felt mortified, embarrassed that he could see you like this. If only you could turn back time and...

“Give me your arm.”

You flinched - he was already so close to you and you didn’t hear him move. Refusing to look at him, you limply lifted your arm - his hand took hold, making you wince.

He turned the faucet on and ran his hand through the water, checking it’s temperature. “Come closer to the sink,” he hummed, easing you closer to the sink with his other hand on your lower back.

You shuddered as your husband cupped cool water over your wounds. His fingers stroked your burning cuts, making you wince and twitch - but he remained kind and gentle throughout.

What bothered you more than anything was his silence.

He remained focused - but quiet. Hot tears flooded your vision - he would think of you differently now. He could think you were crazy, or he would put you away in a mental ward. He wouldn’t want you anymore, not after this.

The silence dragged, second to second, minute to minute. Jumin patted your arm dry, still saying nothing.

“Jumin...” your voice trembled. “I... I —”

“Give me your other arm,” he spoke, a commanding yet tender tone overtaking his voice.

“Jumin...”

His eyes met with yours and you trembled under the weight of his sorrow. “Talk to me, darling. Please talk to me.”

You moved your hand over your mouth. What were you supposed to say...?

Jumin swallowed thickly. “Are you... are you unhappy with me?”

“No, no Jumin, not at all...!”

“Then...” he took a step toward you, cradling your elbows in the palms of his hand. “... talk to me. Dearest, these wounds look fresh... days old.”

“I...” you leaned against the sink, your legs wobbling. “There are days when... when I’m the happiest person in the world because I have a wonderful life... and I have you, you who loves me more than life itself... and yet... there are days when I’m so sad, so miserable with my own existence that I... I take my misery out on myself.”

Jumin’s thumbs stroked your abrasions, his touch so gentle that you lost any will to contain your tears. You leaned into him, hands close to your chest, and you wept.

“Come here,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you firmly against him. “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“Of course you are,” you whispered. “You’ve always been here...”

He cradled your face in his hands, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I want to help you, darling.” His blinked and you gasped as tears rolled down his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Jumin...”

He clutched your hands desperately, as if you would disappear without a moment’s notice. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ll sit with you and we can come up with a plan for you to stop hurting yourself. I’ll shorten my schedule at work just to hear your troubles, my love. I’ll do anything, so please. Don’t leave me. Whatever is plaguing you, we can fight it together... I won’t ever leave you to fight on your own, so please. Please.”

His knuckled whitened. His hands trembled. For the first time since you met him, you witnessed your husband so desperate to keep you by his side... and you realized that you weren’t alone anymore. For the first time in a long time, you felt a link in the chains that subdued you break and shatter... all because he loved you and wanted to help you.

No he couldn’t banish your demons all together. You didn’t expect him to. But at least this time... you weren’t alone.

“Thank you,” you pipped. “I only wish you found this out later, rather than... here, now, at this very moment. I’m afraid I ruined a really important night for you...”

Jumin carefully kissed your scarred wrist. “No businessman nor any proposition will take precedent over you, my love. Now... let’s finish cleaning you up, mm?”

Through tears, you cracked your first genuine smile of the evening. “Okay.”

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 12

Sweet and to the point today: For the masterlist, click HERE :D

Warnings: More violence, because Celaena. 

CHAPTER 12

Reliving Memories

Celeana’s turn came back around in no time, and she was beaming for it. It was the last encounter of the night, and after such a short and boring first fight, she was eager to throw some punches and have some real competition.

Her opponent was the bulky bald man from the first match of the evening, and the same guard came over to get her. 

“What did you mean before?” She asked him as they walked towards the platform. She had managed to cool her anger, and she was now mostly curious about what the guy had said. 

He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, and then looked up to the audience, not answering her question. Celaena followed his gaze and was surprised to find a figure sitting in a dark corner, barely visible against the lights that were shining in front of her. From the curves of the body, she could tell it was a woman, but she couldn’t see her face. There were two more security guards propped close to her, and Celaena couldn’t help but wonder if that was her aunt. It had to be, right? 

As she stepped onto the platform, she looked to the corner again, trying to see any further details, but the lights were right on her eyes, and she couldn’t make up more than a silhouette. There was no doubt the woman had positioned herself right under the headlights on purpose, trying to be inconspicuous. 

“You know the rules,” the judge repeated. “Now, fight, make it fun,” he finished.

Only a second later, her opponent was already on her, throwing a punch aimed straight at her face. She ducked under his arm and took a step to the side. He turned to face her again with another punch aimed at her jaw. He was too slow. She ducked, took a step to the side, and punched him on the pit of the stomach. He took a step back and charged again. He was slow, but he was solid, and she knew her punches wouldn’t do much damage. 

As he tried to take another jab with his right, she crouched and rolled to the left. She was on her feet in the blink of an eye, jumping on the guy's exposed back and trapping him in a headlock. His biceps were so big, that he struggled to try and get a grip on her. His arms flew around trying to catch onto something fruitlessly while Celaena kept squeezing. 

The guy reached back and managed to grab her ankle, squeezing tight with one hand as he tried to reach her with the other too. She felt her ankle heat up, and pain wrapped around her leg. Her right arm was throbbing at the effort of being wrapped around the guy's thick neck, but she didn’t let go, she squeezed tighter, ignoring the pain in her ankle. She knew how much damage that guy could do if he got another hand on her. 

After a minute that felt like an eternity, her bicep almost cramping at the effort, her opponent finally stopped fighting her and dropped to his knees. She stood behind him, pushing the weight onto one leg, and released the lock slowly when his head lolled to one side. He slumped with a loud thump that resonated in the silent room. Once again, the crowd was mostly silent as the judge proclaimed her the winner.

She jumped down and walked towards the back, making sure not to show how much pain she was in. The guard was stepping on her heels, silent for the first few steps. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed behind her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, mate,” she hissed back over her shoulder. The guy flinched, and shook his head, as if annoyed. 

“I’m not your fucking mate,” he said under his breath.

His green eyes were still digging a hole into her soul as she stepped into the back room. She watched him quickly walk away and trailed his steps as he made his way to the lady in the shadows. He nodded a few times, then shook his head and walked away from the woman. Celaena wasn’t sure why she kept looking at him, but there was something intriguing about the guy and the way he seemed to be trying to warn her about something. There was something in his eyes that didn’t match the place, like he didn’t belong. And maybe that’s what got her attention, because Celaena knew a whole lot about not belonging. 

She sat down and rolled her ankle slowly. It wasn't broken, she could work with that. She picked her bag up and headed towards the back door, where Sam was already waiting for her. 

***

Sunday came and went in the blink of an eye as Celaena used half the day to exercise, and the other half to sleep, rest, and ice her swollen ankle. Arobynn had had Sam doing a few jobs in the past few days but had told Celaena he wanted all her energy focused on the tournament, which was why she wouldn’t have any extra assignments until that was over. No assignments meant no pocket money from the percentage she always got for the jobs, but it also meant more time to investigate her parent’s deaths. 

She was finally set on a plan to infiltrate Dorian’s penthouse on the 25th floor on Monday night. 

When morning broke, she was already eager to come back from school and get it done. Her ankle wasn't as sore, and she could walk normally if she made an effort. She didn't think anybody would notice her slight limp and was confident the painkillers would make the pain completely disappear soon enough. 

The morning seemed to go by too slowly as Celaena just wanted to head back to the hotel.

“Hey there,” Nehemia greeted her as she joined her in their usual spot in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Celaena had socialized with the cheerleaders during practices but was still unsure about joining them during lunch. Even if it wasn’t the best for her plans, she had to admit she enjoyed spending that time with Nehemia rather than with the bees; and she would have felt guilty leaving her alone. 

“How’s it going?” She asked as she watched Nehemia plummet onto the seat.

“I have an assignment due Wednesday that’s driving me crazy,” the dark-haired girl played with one of the rings on her dreads as she spoke.

“What is it about? Maybe I could give you a hand,” Celaena replied before thinking about it.

“Could you?” Nahemia turned to face her and grabbed her from the shoulders, shaking her lightly. “Please, please, could you?” 

“Chill down, I can.” Nehemia let go of her and analyzed her features.

“Did something happen this weekend? You’re being nice, offering help and there’s some kind of… glow in your eyes.” Celaena blinked, scared that her contacts might have shifted. “Did you meet someone this weekend? Did you go on a date?” Nehemia asked excitedly, making Celaena’s worries wash away.

“No, I didn’t.” She took a bite of her pizza as she laughed to herself. Meet someone? She had met a couple of guys and had beaten them both unconscious if that counted. She almost choked on the pizza at the thought of using that as her answer.

“Why are you lying to me? You did meet someone, didn’t you? What is he like? Does he come to Adarlan Elite?”

“Enough, I didn’t meet anybody, come on, I got the next period free and so do you, so let’s head to the library and start with that project of yours.” Celaena stood up, taking the last bite of her pizza and walking away as she ate her pudding on the go.

Nehemia rushed behind her, a slice of pizza in each hand.

“The library? That’s for the lame kids,” Nehemia pouted, and Celaena stopped on her tracks, turning around to fully face her friend.

“Excuse me? I thought you were better than that.” She said, suddenly feeling hurt. “Libraries are full of books and ideas, which are perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Nehemia was quick to reply and lift her hands in apology, “I didn’t mean to upset you. And you’re right, it was a stupid comment to make. It’s just that… don’t worry. It’s nothing, and I apologize again.” She said as they started walking towards the library again. 

“It’s okay, I accept your apology." Nehemia was looking down, her usual cheerfulness gone. “We all make mistakes,” Celaena added as she rested a hand on the other girl’s shoulder.

Looking up at her, Nehemia smiled again. “Thanks.”

The library was almost empty, as usual. Celaena thought it was such a shame that kids in the school weren’t enjoying this marvelous and astonishing library. There were so many books piled up on shelves that were as high as the ceiling. She would’ve needed at least ten lifetimes to go through the entire collection. 

The two girls walked to the back of the room, where a few low round tables lay surrounded by couches. They dropped onto the cushions and got their notebooks and pens out. 

“Okay, what’s the subject?” Celaena asked.

“Biology, I really do suck at it.”

Celaena stretched forward and grabbed the essay that Nehemia had started writing. She had a fair idea of what they needed to write about, but there were a few details she was going to need help with. 

“Okay, there’s one book I want to go look for. Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Celaena disappeared between the shelves, running her fingers through the oldest book’s spines and reading titles as she went. She knew she wasn’t even close to the section she needed to head to for the biology book, but she’d been meaning to go to the library for weeks. She had been in during the night a few times, but it was the first time she was watching the place in the light of the day. The yellow sunbeams were dancing in the air and giving the whole place a golden glow, making it seem almost magical.   

She picked a hardcover book and pulled it out. There was a white circle on the black front cover, with a geometrical representation of mountains, and three little stars on top. She ran a finger through the spine and read the name again. A court of mist and fury. Looking at the back cover, she read the words out loud.

“Good. I was not good. I was nothing, and my soul, my eternal soul, was damned…” She could relate to that. 

She was about to keep reading when someone showed up in the hall. The short girl walked her way and looked at the book she was holding.

“Have you already read it? I absolutely love that saga!”

“Oh, is it a saga?” Celeana hadn't realized that before.

“It is, that’s the second book, the first one should be here…” the girl stood on her tiptoes, looking at the shelf and then grunting. “I hate people that don’t leave the books where they belong. Don’t worry, it will probably be back there tomorrow if you come looking for it, books don’t stay lost for long here.” The girl smiled shyly, and Celaena thought there was something familiar about her light brown eyes and the way she carried herself.

“That’s okay, I was meant to be looking for a biology book anyways, I got sidetracked.”

“I know that feeling all too well, we are so incredibly lucky that Adarlan Elite has a fiction section in the library. It only took me a few years of pleading to the student’s council,” she finished with a bigger and more confident smile.

“That’s great,” she replied as she put the book back on the shelf, ready to keep going.

“By the way, I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” the short girl extended a hand towards her. “I’m Elide Lochan.”

Concentrating not to flinch at the memories, Celaena stretched her hand and shook the girl’s one quickly. “Nice to meet you, I’m Celaena.”

“I’m so happy to see there’s another bookworm in school, maybe we should hang out sometime, you could maybe join the book club if you want, we're starting a read-along of 'a court of thorns and roses' next month, which is the first book of the saga,” Elide added, her cheeks blushing slightly when she finished talking. 

“Yeah, I’ll look into it, thanks.” She turned around and backed through the hall, turning into the first corner and moving away as fast as she could. 

Before she could process her actions, she was out of the library and locked inside a cubicle in the closest bathroom. Lowering the seat, she sat down and rested her head on her palms. How come she had missed her name on the database? She had been so stupid. She had only looked at the database for seniors, and Elide had to be a junior. Celaena had always thought Elide was still living in Terrasen and had never given any second thought to her or her mother. 

She let herself get lost in the memories, remembering the way Marion Lorchan used to look after her when her parents were away on business trips. How she and Elide have played together as little kids, braided each other’s hairs, and slept among a thousand pillows during sleepovers. Evalin Ashryver and Marion Lochan had been close friends since they were little girls, and both of them had always dreamed their daughters would grow to be as close as they were. 

Thinking about it, Celaena wasn’t surprised that Marion would’ve decided to move away when Evalin passed away, she had had to be one of the most affected people by the tragedy. 

Taking a deep breath, she came out of the cubicle and headed back to the library, where she found the book as fast as possible and reunited with Nehemia by the couches. She’d look through the whole database that night after getting into the penthouse. She wouldn’t be caught off guard again. 

“What took you so long?” Nehemia asked, barely lifting her head from the essay she was trying to write.

“Sorry, got sidetracked,” she said as she plummeted on her seat. “Let’s finish that essay and get out of here.”

[qhostqizmo]

Little Slice of Heaven

“I would like to be left alone, Theophilus.”

“Come now Lord Amon, no one likes to be left alone.”

A quiet growl rumbled in the nobleman’s throat. His head whipped around, turning a piercing gaze towards the statesman. The corner of his lip peeled back in a snarl nearly feral in nature, prompting the gentleman to hastily take a step back.

“Well I do,” he opposed in a thick tone.

The mousy broad-bellied man shifted sheepishly before him, trying to shrink their figure inward. “P-Please m’lord- you will be rejoining after recess, won’t you?”

“I will need a moment to consider if I shall; or if your wingbagged alias has the ability to be silent and allow someone else to speak at these proceedings, before I pass judgment on that matter.”

“You’re being fatuous, m’lord-”

Amon exhaled sharply. His nostrils flared, the shape of his shoulders growing broader as his spine stiffened. The nobleman peered down at the politician as he spoke in an ominous whisper: “I am being sensible, Master Theophilus. If I waste my time any longer in a room full of arrogant rambling administrators, then I am wasting the time of my territory and those who seek my authority and guidance to protect and serve it. I do not have the hour to sit and be spoken over by the likes of Roulf Boude or Claudia Fulvianus, or any of the like with their hubris and tactless greed. I have other obligations that demand my attention, and when everyone has finally settled into peaceful discussion and respectably appropriate delegations, I would be happy to seek audience again.”

“But for now,” he rumbled, taking a step forward, “I suggest that you go, Theo. I need space to think, and I have responsibilities to attend to and contracts to review and sign. So if you do not mind getting off of my property, and allowing me to go undisturbed into my home-”

Nodding vigorously, the short and stout Theo began to retreat in a backwards scuttle off the Briarton Estate’s pathway. “Yes sir, of course sir, I hope we’ll see you s-soon sir-”

Amon grunted to himself, turning away with a dramatic flick of his cloak. Unlikely.

Bricks laid out the foundation of the walkway to the manor. Within the cracks along some of the blocks; squeezing with determination between slots, a few common wild violets had taken root. He took care not to step on any of them as the tenacious little flowers guided him to the threshold. A strong scent from the house-hugging flora greeted him as he breathed in deeply, opening the heavy oak door. The geranium’s and hydrangea were in bloom, competing each other for dominance in the landscape. They also had a delightful calming effect before stepping in; taking in the range of colors and relaxing scents they provided in the mellow summer breeze.

“Lord Amon?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he called out, shutting the door softly behind.

A young maid stepped around the corner, offering a bow. “Would you like an afternoon snack, my lord?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.”

She curtsied. “Very well milord. Call if you need anything.”

He nodded shortly, sliding the dense mantle from his shoulders to drape over his arm. The nobleman watched the young woman retreat as he stepped further into the foyer, the sound of claws scrambling hastily coming from the east side of the house.

Sighing, he anchored his boots to the floor just as Caesar came barreling from the gallery room. The great mastiff skidded into his knees, letting out one of his tremendous bellowing barks that filled the entire space with his eagerness. He gave a butt wiggle that shook in tandem with his tail, leaving Amon to chuckle as he reached down to scratch the hunting dog’s ears.

“A very dignified entry Caesar,” he reported as the pooch groaned with pleasure. “How’s my good boy?”

“Arf.”

“Excellent. Have you been out recently?”

The hairy beast of a creature gave a mighty shake, sitting upon his hunches. He tilted his head, panting heavily up at his master.

“Outside?” Amon asked, patting his head.

A simple whine answered him as Caesar stood up, circling his legs eagerly.

He pat his thigh, signaling for the mastiff to follow. The duo made their way into the gallery room; no longer a dull space of gray stone with only the taxidermy stuffed game to bare their teeth in greeting. Paintings lined the wall; and the new throw rug added a splash of color and pattern to the otherwise uninspiring space. A few seating arrangements had been added, along with a card table and sculptures. There were still a few bare spaces, particularly near the south-side of the room, but that was Part D of a rather extensive project to liven various areas of the house.

Crossing through the identified ‘man cave’ of the lower level, Amon entered the kitchen with Caesar fast at his heels. He propped open the door to the backyard with his foot, allowing the dog to bolt through with a delighted series of yelps as he chased off the closest songbirds rooting the grass for insects.

“Afternoon, milord.”

“Afternoon-” he barely managed to utter, catching just a glimpse of the houseaid before she disappeared into the extended pantry. He cleared his throat: “Would you mind listening to let Caesar in? I’m going to head upstairs.”

“Certainly milord; not a problem.”

“Thank you Carla.”

He took the way back in which he came, passing through the dark-lit interior of the ‘men’s sanctuary’ and into the gallery. His gaze passed the portrait of Fontane to his right; no longer lonely with canvas work added of loved one’s now passed. It was a small memorial space; with pressed lily flowers in frames and a few plaques quoting heartfelt quotes. A large branch had been recently anchored to the wall, with hollow holes allowing small metal dishes to sit sustaining candles. There were even some recent additions he hadn’t seen until this moment: peace lilies added to the vase at the corner nook table, and a new ivy plant along the bottom of the branch.

A twinge of pain radiated through his chest. Pressing his fingers to his lips, Amon blew a kiss to the beaming expression of Marie looking back at him before he moved on.

The Illiad heir hopped up the stairs with a spring in his step, meeting the second landing. Sunlight cascaded past the curtains, the smell of the central courtyard garden entering the open windows. He picked up on the rustling coming from the sitting room just ahead before he saw a figure moving quickly into the doorway.

“M’lord- Oh… Do you want to talk about what happened? You look stressed my love.”

Amon absorbed her appearance; soaking her in like flora to sunshine. The smile that graced her face upon first glance faded quickly with a knit of her worried brow. Shadows fell over her golden eyes like clouds blocking rays of the sun. She fiddled her fingers in front of the pale blush off-the-shoulder shirt she wore; cinched at the waist, with ruffled short-length sleeves. It was a pleasant rosy hue, making the shade of her skintone appear deeper, more a rich brown.

She was a breath of fresh air, deep in the depths of his lungs. He slid his feet forward slowly, finding her arms instantly open to welcome him into her embrace.

He inhaled the faded aroma of soap in her loose black curls, pulling her in close to rock from side to side. The shape of her was a familiarity to him; warm and soft, curving into his frame with the same shade of longing he felt beneath his ribcage.

His wife pressed her lips to the ticklish skin below his ear, and he chuckled.

“Rough day, beloved?”

“Vexing,” he agreed heavily, “but it’s already feeling a bit better.”

“Well I’m happy to hear that,” she hummed. “Can I get you anything? Was the summit dreadful?”

“A mockery Essie; truly. I’ve rarely dealt with such immature individuals. Would you care to join me when we reconvene? I could use your sharp tongue.”

Essätha pulled her head back to arch her brow, a playful smile on her face. “That depends; am I kissing you with it or spearing someone else?”

Amon’s eyes widened with surprise. “Quite the spirited tease today, darling.”

“I do enjoy a good game,” she admitted, reaching back around to pat his chest. “While you were out I went ahead and assessed the contracts Edger sent us; triple-checked them a few times. Our ledges and estimates all seemed in order and correct, but I didn’t sign anything until you oversaw it just in case.”

“You could have, you know I trust you.”

“I know, but I love hearing you read contracts aloud in that sexy deep droning voice of yours.” She winked at him as he chuckled, venturing onward, “besides, it’s a team effort. I would rather you catch my mistakes now than later down the road.”

The nobleman grinned, staring down into her smiling face. He leaned forward, basking in the glory of the way her breath hitched expectedly, and how her lashes fluttered low. She slid her arms around his neck to dig her fingers through his air as his lips brushed hers. A shaky exhale escaped her, waiting patiently, until he pressed closer for a more earnest kiss.

They separated slowly, with her eyes peering up at him beneath dark lashes. The sorcereress dropped her hands from around him, and grabbed gently at his bicep.

“Come, sit with me.”

Amon let go of his noblewoman, allowing her to take his hands instead. She guided him back into the sitting area where she had come from, walking at an angle so her eyes could remain holding his. It was a holy experience, following someone cut from the heart of divinity. He would follow her blindly anywhere, anywhere at all. She was in his blood, in his heart, the sun in his eyes glistening so brilliantly; she was everywhere he wanted to be, the only longing he could not live without.

“You’ve had a long enough day already,” Essie urged sweetly, taking a seat upon the sofa. She pat the spot beside her with her free hand. “Rest.”

He obeyed her willingly, obliging by sinking gently into the cushion beside hers.

She carefully detangled her hand from his. Her fingers brushed against the side of his face and up, pushing stray hairs away from his forehead. His eyes darted over her, watching as she indicated a sweeping gesture over her lap. An invitation.

Once more, loyal and willing, he began to drift towards her. Bunching his knees in, Amon kept his boots mostly off the clean couch by dangling his ankles off to the side as he rolled inward. Scooting and wriggling, he steadied himself to flat on his back, head in her lap, looking up into the vibrant joyful expression peaking down at him. Her smile was stunning; making an already beautiful woman ethereal in ways that slackened his jaw. It was a small gesture, but it softened around her eyes as the edges of her cheeks rounded.

“Wow,” he cooed, “you look incredible from every view.”

Essätha scoofed at him, the bridge of her nose wrinkling in disagreement. “Hussssshh…”

Leaning forward, she grazed her fingertips through his locks. She combed hair back from his forehead, stroked along his eyes, and rubbed the pads of her fingers near his temples.

A groan rose up in his throat, his eyelids falling to half-mast in bliss.

Softly, Essie began to hum. It almost felt as though it was filling his chest; radiating into his ribcage and bouncing around like an orchestra in a cathedral. Amon sighed heavily, allowing the heaviness in his body to drift away as he succumbed to her touch more and more.

She began to whisper slowly a hymn. He understood none of it, but he didn’t have to. Whatever the lyrics were, they were words of an angel, and of love. The words fell into a melody as her voice higher; louder, sweeter. It was not just the celestial tongue that had him so smitten, or the nature of the words. It was her body language that captivated him; the tenderness that poured out of her, the enormity of her compassion and unbridled will of strength.

Gods themselves would weep, hearing something so precious.

He melted; enamored and adoringly staring up into the halo of the sun that was wreathing her head. It was all so dreamy; so beyond what mortals could be capable of. Her touch was a saint’s blessing, carding through mane of fading-black. Her nails scrapped against his hairline; her palms rubbed metric gestures that seemed to coordinate with the rise and fall of her chorus against the side of his head. He imagined he could close his eyes and drift away to sleep; the most comfortable slumber he’d ever have, if he wasn’t so stubbornly enticed to being aware and there in the waking world with her. No fantasy’s ever did justice on the fascination and depth that resided in her soul. Nothing compared to the reality that was being beside her.

Clearing his throat, he reached up to cup the side of her face, sweeping his thumb against her jawline. “I’m in awe of you a little more every day,” he mouthed, breathing deeply.

Essie laughed shyly. “People are going to think I’m charming you with talk like that,” she teased.

“You are quite charming.”

“M’lord Amon.”

“Even when you say my name with disapproval, it’s still the most enchanting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re love-drunk,” the sorceress murmured, ghosting her lips intimately along his palm, and down to his wrist.

“I have been,” he agreed in a lulled hush. “I have been for a long time, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Do you not want a cure?” she mused, massaging her fingertips from behind his ears down to his neck.

A shiver rushed over him. “You are my cure. I love being intoxicated by you. You relax me, and you challenge me. You make me stronger, and you bring me to my knees. Your wit and charm make me feel invincible and intelligent, while also humbling me that I still can always learn more from you. I am in a constant state of balance and bliss, when you are by my side.”

Her eyelids dropped a little lower as he spoke, while her smile grew broader. Essie skimmed her touch from his forehead through his hair and back, making his groan again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Essie, so much.”

“I love you just as much,” she whispered, huddling over to give him a peck on the cheek.

Amon tilted his head a few degrees, allowing her hands to comb through a different section of his hair. His eyelids drifted a bit lower as she began to pick up the tune to the song she had been singing, the angelic lines floating through the air, giving harmony to his heartbeat.

Sighing, the nobleman nuzzled his face into her thighs, reaching around to wrap an arm around her waist. She half-giggled, continuing to sing as he peaked up at her from her abdomen, admiring the most gorgeous woman in all of the world. His home, his heart, the entire pillar of his contentment hindered on that soft, private smile made just for him. This moment alone with her reminded him of the true meaning of life: at the end of the day, love was all that mattered, and it would conquer all else… Even if all it had to overcome was the brief stormcloud of his sour mood. It never stood a chance against Essätha Illiad; vanquisher of darkness, and keeper of his heart.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 61: Final Exam Part 3: Short Answer

Presenting the next chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

All chapters can be found here

Through her connection to Frog-Shadow, Asuka felt the world spin.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t affecting her directly, but it was affecting Frog-Shadow and Haimawari.  It couldn’t be the winged Villain—his Quirk was obviously some kind of wind manipulation—which meant there had to be another Villain somewhere that they weren’t seeing.

Asuka dove for cover, drawing Frog-Shadow back into her body.  Haimawari veered towards the wall, swerving wildly.  But rather than try to break, he jetted forward, putting up his hands at the last moment so that he traveled up the wall.  He pushed himself off it with another pulse of his power, executing a flip in the air, before making a three point landing.   He shot a fist into the air.  

“Wooo!   Did you see that?!  I did it!”

“Pretty fancy, Hero,” the winged man sneered.  “But it’s going to take more than that to take down the Raptor!”   His wings spread out behind him, then flicked forward again. The resulting blast of air should have knocked Haimawari of his feet, but despite being buffeted by the winds and flailing against them, he wasn’t moved from his spot.  Looking closely, she could see a faint glow surrounding his feet and Asuka realized he must have been using his Quirk to adhere to the street.

Ready, Frog-Shadow? she thought.   If they were going to try again, there wasn’t a better time than while Haimawari still had the Villain—Raptor—distracted.

Ready!   I don’t know what he did last time, but this time, I’m going to kick his ass!  Just you wait and see!

Asuka rolled her eyes for a moment.  Ever since she’d almost lost her during the Internship, she’d been trying not to be as annoyed by Frog-Shadow’s antics and bravado. And she’d been letting Frog-Shadow out more often under casual circumstances, incorporating her into what was going on.  It had felt… right.   Frog-Shadow was a part of her, but was also her own self.  And in trying to suppress that, to make Frog-Shadow conform to what she considered to be proper behavior standards, had she not been suppressing part of herself? And more trust in her familiar had resulted in better coordination during training.  It was a benefit to them both, especially since Frog-Shadow actually acted up less when she felt she had more of an outlet and voice.

Then go! she commanded.

Frog-Shadow flew from her body towards Raptor, but the moment she got close, the disorienting feeling of dizziness returned, the world spinning as though someone was turning it around and around in every direction.  Asuka fell to her knees, while Frog-Shadow flitted about in the sky going every which way.  She couldn’t see clearly with the world spinning, but it looked like Haimawari was dodging this way and that, occasionally firing a burst of power at Raptor.

This time, the dizziness was overwhelming; she was now clearly a direct target of it, making her feel as though she was going to throw up her breakfast.  Even closing her eyes offered only limited relief.  Every time she tried to rise, she found she couldn’t. The mere thought of moving made her ill.

Hang on! came Frog-Shadow’s thoughts.  Her thoughts were shaky too; being hit with whatever was causing the dizziness directly and feeling it through Frog-Shadow was possibly making it worse than it could have been.  I’m coming!  I see him!

Frog-Shadow zipped unsteadily through the air back to her, briefly entering her body, before shooting out the other side of her again.  Take that, you big meanie!

A mighty thwack filled the air, the sound of Frog-Shadow smacking into something, followed by the sound of someone hitting the ground.  The nausea immediately stopped, her head and stomach clearing quickly. When she was able to open her eyes, she saw a hideous figure trying to get to its feet, a humanoid cockroach. She very nearly let out a cry of alarm, but kept her beak clamped shut.  Such a reaction was unbecoming of a Hero and considering her own avian appearance, hardly appropriate as a person either.

Frog-Shadow, meanwhile, was still raining punches down on the bug-man, eliciting a groan.   “Call it off!  Call it off!   She’s crazy!” the bug-man cried out, multiple arms waving in the air in a show of surrender.  But Frog-Shadow pressed her attack and decked the man, who collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk.

It was only now, when she had a moment to think, that Asuka realized she’d lost track of Raptor and Haimawari.  And she had no idea what had become of Sero and Ojiro either…

***

Takiyo’s head was killing him, his ears still ringing, so he was fairly certain that he could not possibly have heard Shota Shinso say what he thought he’d heard.  Then again, the short boy was rather obsessive in his fanboy tendencies.  If anyone could recognize whoever the school had gotten to fight them for their exam, it would be him.

He knew he should not have been so embarrassed.  The fact was, their assailant could have just as easily shot any of them.  True, Iida’s armor might have protected her, but the rest of them had no such protection.  But being shot and having to be rescued like some civilian ate away at him all the same.  How was he ever going to make a name for himself if he could be taken down so easily?

“You don’t know shit, kid!” the woman in the catsuit shouted, waving her rifle about as she tried to refute Shinso’s claims. “Shut up!”

Somehow, having a gun pointed at him did not deter Shinso from talking.  Takiyo suspected that, were the boy somehow trapped in a soundless void, he would find a way to continue to talk.  

“I do too!  You’re the Shadow Thief!  Mom and Dad fought you!”

The woman looked so startled she nearly dropped her gun.   “Shit!  I knew that purple hair looked familiar!”  She recovered her grip on her weapon quickly, but before she could fire a shot, Koda threw seeds which quickly grew into vines.  As the vines ensnared her, she and her weapon vanished, melting back into the shadows from whence she came.

The Shadow Thief reappeared immediately, behind Shinso.  She struck him with the butt of her rifle, knocking him to the ground. Before Koda could react, the Shadow Thief fired a shot directly into her center mass, knocking her down.  She spun to fire again and Takiyo let out a cry of alarm.  But when he did, he unleashed a blinding flash of light.

“Argh!” the Shadow Thief cried out, this time dropping her weapon, which fell to the ground with a great clatter.  She stumbled backwards, one hand covering her eyes.  “Dammit…”

Quickly, he fired a laser beam of light at her weapon, the heat slicing it in half cleanly.  He took some smug satisfaction in that.  At least he wasn’t so hurt that he couldn’t still aim. He started charging up another shot in one hand, while projecting blinding beam from the other.  This woman had appeared from the shadows and had taken him out first.  It stood to reason that dark things like her feared his light.

“The next shot is for you, witch.  Stand down.”

“Can’t… do that,” she said, between gritted teeth.  She kept slowly trying to edge backwards, out of the range of his light.  No doubt looking for more shadows to escape to.   “I’ve got too much at stake... to let some pissant lightbulb like you stop me…”   Her hands strayed to her belt and she removed something he couldn’t see from a pouch there.  She let whatever it was drop and dark, obscuring smoke began to rise, hiding her from him and obscuring even his bright beam.

A scream from behind him, acting as a wedge of force, pushed the smoke aside.  But when it did, the Shadow Thief was gone.  Takiyo released the energy he was building up and turned, seeing that Shinso and Koda were recovering from her assault.  Shinso was rubbing the back of his head and Koda had one arm draped protectively over her chest.  She’d taken one of those shots full center of mass.  His head ached enough from merely being clipped by one. How much worse were her injuries?

“Mademoiselle Koda, are you all right?” he asked.  If that Villain had hurt her…

She held up her free hand. “Sore, but I shall live.  Thank providence for my thick hide.”

“I’m fine too,” Shinso said, though he hadn’t asked.  He touched the back of his head gingerly.  “Oooh, that’s gonna be a lump.”

Takiyo’s mind was still reeling.  Had they gotten actual Villains for their exam? Surely not even Aizawa would unleash something that dangerous upon them.  It had to be a joke.  A trick! Shinso had to be mistaken! And yet, Takiyo realized there was no possible way that Shinso would be mistaken about the identity of a Villain.  But then, what did that mean?  If there were real Villains, their teachers would be riding to their rescue.  And she was only firing nonlethal ammunition…

“What… what was that?” he demanded.  “What was she talking about?  ‘Too much at stake’?”   He waved his arms in a gesture of confusion.

“Beats me,” Shinso said.

Iida’s voice crackled through their head sets.  “No sign of the Villain…  Izumi says that Toshi wants us to pull back and regroup as soon as we are able.  Check for remaining civilians, I will maintain a lookout.  Then we can go.”

Takiyo no longer felt quite so confident in this exam.  If there were real Villains about, if this was something other than what it seemed… then what was going on?

***

“’Too Much at stake’,” All Might repeated, turning to look at Aizawa.  “Just what did you tell them, Aizawa?”

“Only what was necessary to properly motivate them to give the students a real challenge,” Aizawa replied, not looking at All Might. His tone of voice seemed to imply that this should have been obvious. His eyes remained fixed to the various screens in front of them.  “A rationale deception designed for the optimum effort from both sides.”  He declined to elaborate further.

Koharu swallowed nervously. Was the Hero Course really this nuts and unregulated that one of the teacher’s had called in actual Villains to fight students during the exam? Why were the Villains going along with it?  What was keeping them from just killing everybody?  If she booked it out of the control room, maybe she could give Class 1-A some kind of warning?

Vice-Principal Midnight seemed to sense her discomfort.  She gave Koharu a kind smile.  “It’s all right,” she said.  “Eraser personally vetted each and every Villain for this exam.  They’re all model prisoners who would have been up for parole in a year or two anyway.”

Koharu’s antenna popped up and she tried to smooth them down.  They always did that when she was nervous.  “Is this normal?”  She waved her hands in vague circles in the air, unable to properly articulate what “this” was.

That got a laugh out of the Vice-Principal for some reason.  “Oh, honey, nothing with Eraser is ever normal.  He likes to keep all of us on our toes.”

“If you can’t handle the unexpected,” Aizawa said, not bothering to turn to look again, “you’ve got no business being in this line of work.”

“Understood, sir,” Koharu said, unsure if he was talking to her or Midnight.  

She returned her attention to the Vice-Principal.  “Can I ask about who these Villains are then?”

Midnight smiled again. “Asking questions and gathering intelligence already,” she said.  “Good job. Shinso already identified Shadow Thief, a very talented cat burglar and practitioner of corporate espionage.  As her name implies, she can travel through any shadow to any other.”

She pointed to one of the other screens, where the giant woman was pulling herself out of the ground. The group that had been battling her had already moved on, clearing out what civilian-robots remained in their area, all the while keeping one eye behind them in case she came after them again.

“That’s Kamuy,” Midnight explained.  “Guilty of political agitation, destruction of government property, and kidnapping a government official, some of which would have garnered her a slap on the wrist, if she hadn’t used her Quirk to do it. Still, it’s the last one that really hung over her. She’s Ainu and has fought rather violently against encroachments on her people’s culture.  Her Quirk lets her absorb kinetic and other forms of energy and uses them to fuel her own strength.  Sato there almost figured it out… it’s an active Quirk, not a passive one.”

Another screen showed the bird-headed girl and her frog… thing… restraining a small man who looked like a cockroach.  There was no special shared love among insect Quirks, but it did look like the frog-thing had smacked him around more than was probably strictly necessary.  

“Nauseous,” Midnight said. “Guilty of multiple counts of theft and disruption of public events, whose Quirk allows him to disrupt the workings of people’s inner ear.  And apparently that of Quirks that act like people too.  Not a terrible guy, all things considered.  When a robbery he was involved in went south, he stayed with the injured guard rather than make off with the money like his friends.”

Koharu winced at the frog thing gave Nauseous one last smack.  

“Hmmm,” Midnight said. “Looks like he’s out of the fight. That’s one for our kids, anyway.”

Another screen showed the metal sumo wrestler that Midoriya had uppercutted into the stratosphere climbing out of the rubble of a building.  It had come down when he’d crashed into it.  “Remind me to deduct points from Midoriya for that,” Aizawa said.  “That kind of carless destruction could cost lives.”

“I’ll work with him on that,” All Might said sheepishly.  “I may have regaled him with a few too many stories of one final Smash…”

“Of course you did.”

“Jawbreaker,” Midnight went on.  “Ridiculed for his appearance, he tried to live an honest life, despite the temptations of crime.  He ultimately turned to crime and theft in order to pay for his father’s medical bills. Anything he eats, he can take on the properties of.  The kids haven’t seen half of what he can do yet.”

Koharu’s eyes widened. “You’re really letting somebody like that fight them?  He looks like he could give Deku a rough fight!”

“It’s fine,” Midnight assured her again.  “Like I said, model prisoner.  And besides, we made it very clear what happens if they step outside the boundaries we set for them.”

And then there was the winged man, who was leading Haimawari on a chase across the skyline.  Haimawari was doing his best to dodge the wind attacks and return fire, while the winged man kept trying to blow him over unsuccessfully.  

“And lastly,” Midnight finished, “Raptor.  The son of Chinese immigrants, who grew up in the Triads.  It’s a little romantic really, but he turned state’s evidence against them when he fell in love and started a family.  It got him a reduced sentence and now he’s up for parole.  His wings let him manipulate wind, not to the extent of, say, Gale Force, though his overall destructive output might be higher.”

A rare flying Villain. Koharu gulped.  As a flying Hero, it would someday be up to people like her to fight people like him.  A sobering thought.

“So, Kocho,” Aizawa said, still not taking his eyes off the screens.  His voice was deadly serious.  “What would you do if you had to fight these Villains?”

No one told her this would be a test!

***

“Look out!” Takuma shouted, jumping into the air while firing a strand of Acid Tape.  He swung and quickly grabbed a pair of child-sized robots with his free arm, getting them out of the way just in time to avoid being squished by falling rubble.  That had been entirely too close!

“You two okay?” he asked the robots when he set down again.  Both nodded and gave him a thumb’s up, the lights on their chests turning green to indicate a successful rescue.  “Good.  Do you know where you parents are?”

The robots didn’t respond, but instead took off towards a taller, vaguely woman-shaped robot, who briefly embraced them before running off.  “Artificial intelligence is getting way too real,” he said aloud.

He popped the faceplate on his helmet, wiping some of the sweat away from his brow.  He and Kimmie had done a good job getting people away from the fight and the winged guy, but that was getting harder and harder now that Haimawari was chasing after him.   He spotted the winged guy jetting from one spot to the next, always pushing off something at one point or another in his flight.   Maybe he couldn’t actually fly?  He looked heavy.  If his Quirk was really the air thing, maybe the wings were just glide and steer?

And if that was the case, what did he do with that information?

He watched, just for a minute, as Haimawari dodged out of the way of a blast of air, sliding up the side of the building backwards, then bringing up a hand to pepper the Villain with pulsing energy bolts.  It didn’t look like they were doing much damage, but they were definitely knocking the guy around a good bit.  He’d give Haimawari credit, he had great control of his Quirk.  

“That’s the last of the civilians,” Kimiko said, running up him.  “Everyone’s evacuated.”  She looked up at the on-going fight between Haimwari and the Villain.  “Should we do something?”

Takuma winced as Haimawari narrowly dodged a blast of wind that blew out the remaining windows of the building.  It shattered the remaining windows in the tall building, showering everything below with glass.  Haimawari blasted a few shards away from himself, but was started to slow down in dodging the wind bursts.

He nodded.  “Yeah. Climb on my back.  Can you make us invisible again?”

Takuma couldn’t see her eyes or her expression, but the rest of Kimiko’s body language just radiated a “yeah, duh” response of such intensity he was surprised he wasn’t on fire from it.  Rather than continue with his commentary, he snapped his visor back into place and bent down and allowed Kimiko to climb on his back, wrapping her legs around his chest and her arms around his neck.  She was pressed up against him tightly enough that he was glad he was gay or he’d probably have a lot of trouble thinking straight.  

‘Straight.’  Even in the middle of an exam, he was funny.  But why was he always at his funniest in his own head?

“Okay!” Kimiko announced. “Time to disappear!  Let’s go kick that guy’s ass!”  There was no feeling as she used her Quirk, making both her costume and him invisible, only the colors of the world losing some of their edge, everything going a little bit gray.  It was always weird and he swore his peripheral vision was a bit wider with his skull being invisible.  And that wasn’t even getting into how he shouldn’t have been able to see if his eyes were invisible.

Kimiko’s Quirk did not bear deep thinking if you wanted to keep your sanity.  Was this how she saw everything, all the time?

It also required absolute concentration to use in teamwork.  Without his ability to see his body or even his Tape when he fired it (as it was still a part of him until he released it), he had to be absolutely certain of any move he made while invisible.  Thank goodness they’d put in plenty of practice.  

Takuma fired off a strip of Tape at the side of the building, making it good and sticky, tested that it was secure, then launched himself and Kimiko into the air, reeling himself up to the side of the building.   Quickly, he fired another strip of Tape, pulling both of them up to where Haimawari was struggling to maintain his grip on the building against the winged Villain’s winds.  The winged-Villain had amped up the pressure and intensity of his attacks, leaving their classmate no opportunity to fight back.

Even not being directed at them, he could feel the air currents.  Kimiko let out a shriek as they were nearly dislodged. Takuma quickly secured them with another strand.

“This was a bad idea,” Kimiko whispered in his ear.  He wasn’t sure he disagreed.  Raptor was moving fast, bouncing from perch to perch, never letting up the pressure on his wind attacks.  

“You’re persistent, kid, I’ll give you that much,” Raptor growled, wings flapping hard as he bounced off the side of a building, readying another volley of wind.  “But you’re just out of your depth.”

Haimawari withstood the barrage again, his hands and feet glowing as he poured his Quirk into adhering to the building.  But he was starting to slip, Takuma could see that much.  It was now or never if they were going to do something.

“Hang on, Kimmie,” he whispered.  He fired off a strip of Tape again, and swung himself upwards.  As he soared up through the air, he fired off another Tape strip, giving his wrist a hard flick.  With perfect timing, the Tape itself wrapped around Raptor’s legs, pinning them together.

“What the?!” Raptor cried out.  He was in motion, gliding through the air before starting his next attack, leaving him no opportunity to try and dislodge the Tape.

Takuma grunted and pulled with all his might.  He was definitely going to be feeling the stain tomorrow, but taken by surprise, Raptor slammed into the building, hard.  But the Villain pushed off with a grunt, flapping his wings hard and propelling himself with blasts of wind.  Takuma was forced to cut the strip of Tape loose, lest his arm be pulled out of the socket.   When the strip broke away, it became visible.   Raptor tore it loose, flapping his wings hard and reversing direction in mid-air.

His wings flared again as he prepared to fire another blast of air.  But their attack had given Haimawari the precious seconds he needed to actually return fire.  He sped up the side of the building, then turned and snapped up, his feet still clinging to the building but bother his hands now in firing position. “SLIIIIIIDE-BUSTER!”  Haimawari unleashed a powerful looking, pulsating blue-white beam of energy, looking stronger and bigger than the small bolts he usually fired.  The beam struck Raptor dead on, blasting him into the ground below.  He made a rather satisfying thud when he hit.

Kimiko let the two of them fade back into visibility.   Takuma looked up and gave Haimawari a wave.  “Niiiice, dude!”

Haimawari gave them a little wave in return.  “Figured that had to be you two.  Thanks. Wasn’t sure what I was going to do there.”

“Hey, if you two are done congratulating each other,” Kimiko interrupted, “the bad guy’s getting away!”

Takuma looked down and saw she was right.  The Villain was back on his feet but running away, not taking to the skies.  He saw him slip between an alleyway and then lost track of him.

“Ugh, great,” Takuma said. He wondered if that was going to cost them points.  Beating the Villains was only the number three priority, but…  “Should we go after him…?”

“Are you three all right?”  Tokoyami’s voice over the comms cut off that line of thinking.  “I’ve,” she stopped suddenly, as though she was arguing with someone he couldn’t hear. Probably Frog-Shadow.  It was a shame Tokoyami didn’t have any interest in fame.  A straight man who could supply their own co-host to argue with?  That was comedy gold there. “Pardon, we’ve captured one of the Villains and Gravi-Might wishes for us to regroup.”

Well, that answered that at least.

***

It didn’t take long for everyone to make it back to the civilian defense shelter and gather in front, and Toshi was glad to see that everyone was still standing.  Some looked a little worse for wear than others though. Both Sora and Tensei had dents in their armor; there was a massive dent in Tensei’s chestplate that was shaped like a fist and Sora’s armor looked like someone had been shooting at her (He had to try really hard to separate the boyfriend concern from teammate concern there.).  Aoyama and Shota were both nursing head wound and several others like Shoji and Koda looked more than a little beat up.  

Ojiro quickly went to work checking over the wounded.  They were all versed in basic field first aid now, but with the additional training she was receiving from Aunt Eri and her Quirk, she made the most sense as the team medic.  She quickly pronounced that there were no broken bones or internal damage, though she loudly professed that they were all probably going to be sore tomorrow.

Toshi was sympathetic to that.  Smacking into the building, even in a state of high gravity, had hurt like hell.  He was lucky the rest of his team had been so quick to act.  It had kept them from being injure and left the three of them—Izumi, Mineta, and Kaminari—along with Sato and Ojiro, as the only people who weren’t hurt or put through the ringer.

“Toshi!’  Shota piped up.  “Toshi!  Toshi! It was Shadow-Thief!  We were fighting a real Villain!  It was the Shadow Thief!”

“That’s great, Shota,” Toshi said, his attention on the broader group.  “Okay, so we’ve all had some contact with the Villains and it looks like we’ve beaten them back.  And Asuka’s got us a prisoner.”

He looked back at the unconscious form of the cockroach-like man Asuka had brought back with her, bound with what looked like a street lamp wrapped around him, courtesy of Frog-Shadow. She’d also dumped a garbage can on his head, explaining that the Villain had some kind of Quirk that could cause extreme dizziness.  She’d guessed it was based on sight, judging by how she and Haimawari had been affected.   Izumi was already working on forming a cube of ice around him, a little miniature prison cell.  Maybe if he woke up they could interrogate him for more information.   He could play good cop and he was pretty sure Katsumi would jump at the chance to play bad cop.

“And that’s Nauseous!” Shota said, pointing excitedly.  “Wow!”

…Wait.  Toshi stopped mid-thought to stare at Shota, mouth agape.

“Loud Kid,” Katsumi snapped, saying what they were all thinking, “why the hell do you know who these guys are?”

“They’re real Villains!” Shota explained again.  “I mean, I thought both of them were supposed to be in jail, but they’re still real Villains!”

At this pronouncement, chaos broke out among the rest of his classmates, except for Koda, Sora, and Aoyama, everyone talking at once and over each other.

“The fuck?!”

“I am certain our teachers would not willingly subject us to danger like that without failsafes…”

“We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!  Villains have overrun UA!  I’m too hot to die!  There’s so many people I never hit on!”

“You!  Have!  A! Boyfriend!  I’m the one who’s going to die alone!”

“I beat a real Villain!  GO ME!”

“Yes, you did.  You can stop bragging now.”

“I helped take down a real Villain and I couldn’t get it on video?!  This is the worst thing that ever happened in the history of ever!

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HELPED?!  WHAT AM I, CHOPPED LIVER?!”

“Really, this is what you two are arguing about now?”

“This is truly improbable, and yet Shinso has a statistical record that makes his identifications very likely…”

“Guys, think for a second. It can’t possibly be what it looks like.”

“Hey, guys, ah, maybe we should listen to Midoriya…?”

Haimawari’s words, at least, seemed to calm the class down for the moment.  Everyone quieted down and gave Toshi their attention again. He once again realized how much everyone looked to him in the figurative sense as well.  It was a sobering burden.  And one that was starting to remind him of something Dad had said once, about how he only tried to do so much (which was, admittedly, a lot), because he didn’t want people relying on him like they had on Grandpa Might. It was why he was the Symbol of Hope, not Peace.  

He was really going to have to do something about that.

“Okay,” he said.  They could dissect the implications later, but he trusted in their teachers not to put them in danger.  …Okay, he trusted Aizawa not to put them in too much danger.  “So all that really means is that we’re fighting people who are experienced fighting Heroes.  But they’re probably holding back some.  We don’t know if they were briefed about us or our Quirks, but I’m betting we have the best source on the planet for figuring out what they’ve got.”

Toshi pointed at Shota. “So we’re going to fill Loud Kid in on what we’ve got and who we fought.  Shota, it’s time to put your knowledge to the test.”

His eyes scanned the cityscape behind the others.  “Because make no mistake… this isn’t over.  First round went to us.  But there’s at least four Villains still out there.  They know we’re here, they know where we are.  And since this is where their target is…

“They’re coming for us.”

[mobius-prime]

116. Knuckles the Echidna #21

The Forbidden Zone (Part Three of Three): The Many Facets of the Truth

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Barry Grossman

Cold opening, go!

As Heavy and Bomb are being swept away in the current, Locke's aircraft arrives and catches everyone in some kind of antigravity beam, pulling them up into the craft's interior. At one point before they're caught by the beam, just before they go over a waterfall, Heavy complains that they're in "deep doo-doo," and Bomb acts like this is some crazy newfangled term he's never heard of before, prompting Heavy to explain that he hears Valdez say it all the time when he's called on by Geoffrey. I just love the idea that "doo-doo" is some secret swear word or something in this universe. I mean, can you imagine some grizzled freaking Secret Service member being irritated by something his commander tells him to do and muttering "Oh, doo-doo" under his breath? Because that's exactly what Valdez apparently does. Canon.

Meanwhile, back in Haven, the various members of the Brotherhood start chattering to each other immediately about how much of a disaster this is for Knuckles to have found his way into Haven, while Tobor-itori Rex sulks in the background realizing his plans have just fallen to pieces right before his eyes. Archimedes poofs in to try to reassure Knuckles that "things aren't what they seem," but Knuckles isn't having it and brushes him off (which, to be fair, I know that Archimedes is probably just as indoctrinated into this regime as everyone else, but Knuckles still has a point that he could have told him more about everything before and actively didn't). Finally the Brotherhood decide to start introducing themselves and let fate decide what happens next.

Oof. Knuckles, having no real choice, follows Moritori to the medbay, and is surprised to see Hawking in one of the beds. Moritori explains how he fell into a coma when he restored Echidnaopolis to its proper place on the Floating Island, and quietly fills a syringe behind Knuckles back. Frankly, if I were Knuckles I wouldn't have turned my back on him even for a moment knowing what I know, but eh, we already know he doesn't always make the smartest decisions.

Meanwhile on Locke's craft, Geoffrey asks for more information regarding Elias' survival on the island all these years. He recounts how after the crash, he and the rest of the Brotherhood searched the craft and discovered everyone dead except for baby Elias and Queen Alicia.

The Overlanders came demanding to inspect the craft, but the Brotherhood was able to use their existing precedent as a neutral party in the war to deny them access, lying that they found everyone aboard dead. They decided not to return Elias to the king, fearing the Overlanders would think they took sides in the war, and instead raised him within Haven until he was ten years old, whereupon they released him to wander the island as he saw fit. They also put the queen into a stasis chamber, as she was in a coma and they didn't have the necessary medical knowledge to be able to revive her. However, they'd actually missed one survivor of the crash - the Colonel, who had been thrown clear of the wreckage when the craft broke up, landing somewhere further away. When he awoke, he wandered and was eventually found by the king's search party, but in grief he refused to go back with them and exiled himself to the royal compound on the island where he remained ever since.

While Locke is telling this story, the craft has been approaching the entrance to Haven, concealed by the holographic projection of the wall of flame. As they enter, with Geoffrey expressing his wish to speak directly to Tobor since he was particularly instrumental in helping clean up the site of the crash, we get to see what Fake Tobor is up to in the medbay. As you might expect, it's no good!

Well now, I hardly think Knuckles is the self-centered one here, Moritori. After all, you're the one who replaced a man's entire life with your own, sabotaging every relationship he's ever had and forcing him into a shameful exile just to get an edge for your own selfish goals. They fight some more, and Moritori reveals that his eyepiece can actually shoot lasers, because sure man, lasers! As they continue to duke it out, Locke lands his craft in their docking bay just as alarms start to go off. He decides to simply drop everyone off except for Lara-Le, giving Elias the task to take everyone to Sabre and privately telling him to tell Knuckles "I'm sorry." Wow, maybe Lara-Le has actually gotten through to him somewhat after all. As Elias' entourage makes its way through the hallways they narrowly miss being sliced in half by Moritori's lasers like they’re in a Resident Evil movie, and Knuckles starts tackling him again. Suddenly some heavy-duty doors start closing off the part of the hallway, and Archimedes poofs in to encourage him to jump to safety, trapping Moritori inside.

Just so we're aware, I don't think it's been mentioned so far, but Spectre is Tobor's son, meaning that for all he knows, right now he just saw his own father turn traitor. Of course, they'll all find out there's more to what's going on soon enough. Knuckles and Elias' gang meet up in the hallways, and Knuckles mentions something about hating having to fight the Dark Legion. At that moment the rest of the Brotherhood (sans Locke) turn up, shocked to hear an accusation that Tobor might have been affiliated with them, and Spectre opens the blast doors only to find that Moritori is gone.

According to Spectre, "Shinginta" is an old word in an ancient echidna language meaning "you will make friends with death." I'm not sure if we're meant to assume Moritori just randomly had pen and paper on him, or if he carved it into the wall with his eye lasers, but I'm going with the second option because it's way more metal. Back in Locke's craft, he's finally allowing Lara-Le to try to discuss Knuckles with him, but gets defensive almost as soon as she begins to speak, asking her sarcastically if she wants him to explain the birds and the bees, because he already has. Kind of a hilarious thing to include considering we're literally talking about Locke sitting baby Knuckles down and teaching him the ins and outs of echidna sex, and maybe not a comment necessary to include in a kids' comic, but hey, at least we know Locke is a good enough parent to give his son a decent sex education instead of leaving him in the dark like a lot of modern parents do, eh? Although, on the other hand, there's the ever-looming fact that Guardians are expected to enter into little heterosexual marriages and produce heirs for the family line, so maybe not so great of him after all. He then finds Remington, his pilot, Julie-Su and Wynmacher still stuck in their downed craft outside of Haven, because remember, all this time they've just been stuck in there while Knuckles randomly disappeared into the wall of fire.

Boi, you better get over your old feelings for her quick. Wynmacher is honestly a very likable character compared to him; look how polite he is to someone he knows broke his fiancée's heart, how kind he's been to Knuckles all this time treating him like his own son, and how well he looks after Lara-Le's feelings. He's a way better partner to Lara-Le than Locke ever was, and she deserves him after all Locke put her through. But anyway, meanwhile back in Haven, we finally reach the third day of Geoffrey's time on the island, and Elias brings him and the rest of the Secret Service to the chamber where his mother is in stasis.

Geoffrey plans to take the queen's stasis pod back to Mobotropolis straightaway, and Elias decides he will come with, as he wishes to see his father now that he knows he's alive and well. Knuckles, however, plans to stay in Haven and get the answers he's always wished for, and frankly has earned the right to know.

[inklingleesquidly]

The Wonderful Splatwoon: Eilogue

The final chapter of the series. I said to myself that I would make it when The Wonderful 101 received a representative in Super Smash Bros or got a modern remaster.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/platinumgames/the-wonderful-101-remastered?ref=checkout_rewards_page

I’m so excited about this, I pledged to the Wonderful Art tier! Please do feel free to pledge as well, or buy the game when they release it; you won’t regret enjoying one of my favorite action games of all time! And thank you for enjoying the Squidlys time as super heroes! Hope to do more with them in the future 

Lee and Janine star as Wonder Inkling, the ink-tastic mom and son duo charged with defending Inkopolis from a mysterious alien invasion. Using ancient technology containing the heroic souls and power of over 100 wonderful heroes, this super powered duo saves the day! 

Word Count: 1,324 words

After a period of unrest and attacks on the bustling megalopolis of Inkopolis, its citizenry strived to return to normalcy. A picture of what the city hoped to be lied in the Finjuku district. There, at the Seaside Hill High private academy, students had their lessons as they always did.  

Breaking away from the mundanity of being in a stuffy Biology lab, a class was taking place in an outdoor pavilion on the schoolgrounds. The instructor energetically proceeded through his presentation. “--And if you’ll watch carefully, you’ll see the interesting reaction this alga has to this airborne chemical mixture.”

SHEEEOOOOOO—KABOOM!

An ear-piercing whine sliced through the air, followed by an earth rattling explosion miles-off in the distance. Those who managed to recover from the scare of the blast could look up to see the sky being peppered by mysterious midair machinery. The aliens were attacking!

Panic and chaotic confusion immediately set in between students and teachers alike. The more rational educators rushed into action, herding everyone into the school’s main building. In the time since the alien’s arrival, many facilities in the city had received several structural reinforcements to make them safe sanctuaries. Seaside Hill High had been designated one of those safe zones.

The teacher heading the Biology class held one of the armored steel doors open as lines of teens haphazardly filed in. “Single file! Don’t shove! Remember the emergency drills!” He shouted over all the screeching, gently pushing on the shoulder of the occasional passer to keep the way uncongested. “If your classes aren’t on the ground floor then stick together and find a room to hunker down in.” While the educators did their best to keep order, there was no fighting the alarmed disarray.

Soon, the straggling students all managed to seek safety—all except for one who lagged behind even the last teachers rushing in.

“Mr. Squidtalto, you have to get inside!”

“What? Lee?” The Science instructor found one of his students hadn’t taken refuge. Lee Squidly. “What are you still doing out? We have to lockdown the school.” He hurriedly urged.

Lee mysteriously refused. “I know, so you have to get in now!” Confused, but still anxious, Mr. Squidtalto tried to urge him in. In the end, he seemed to concede, “Okay, okay, I’ll go—SIR, LOOK, IT’S AN ALIEN!” He yelped, pointing away.

“WHAT? WHERE?” The teacher followed his direction, only for the Inkling sophomore to shove him in and slam the heavy door closed. Over the sound of the science instructor’s pleading shouts, Lee heard the clangoring noise of the electronic locks safely sealing everyone inside.

With that, the campus was left completely and utterly deserted. The only sign of life left as the alien threat loomed ever closer was Lee. Nobody could see, and nobody would know about the always timid, soft spoken young man.  

Glasses clutched in his hand, head raised, shoulders cocked back, he boldly looked toward the oncoming assault. Everybody is safe, I can go stop this.

The brave Inkling didn’t get far out of the school courtyard before he was suddenly ambushed. Two hulking monstrous machines belonging to the alien army dropped directly in front of his path. His reflex was to raise his fists, ready for a fight, only to be swooped upon by a pair of aviary automatons. Surrounded on all sides; even the quickest of quick thinking wouldn’t be able to save him.  

The extraterrestrial weapons trained their sights on him. Then, without warning, they fired beams of raw energy directly at him; energy so blisteringly hot they would disintegrate him right on the spot.

Or did they?

If the machines could feel surprise, they would as there was no anticipating their target leaping high into the air, and out of the way of their attack. One of them couldn’t react in time to being pelted by a rapid blasting of ink. As it fell to the counterattack, the rest of them seemed to stare forward, finding the child they attacked had transformed.

Just before the beams struck him, Lee activated his secret weapon. Pinned to his ear was a most wonderful device; one psychically linked to his mind that triggered in one-one billionths of a micro-instant. At the call of “WONDER EYES INKLING!” he donned an all-too familiar burning red costume, only something was distinctly different.

His stance, and the way he gripped a pair of Inkopolis Defense Force issued .96 Gal ink shooters was so much more powerful than ever before. As the one machine began to succumb to the ink spreading through its system, Lee made a declaration.

“I’m a special combat agent of the Inkopolis Defense Force planetary secret service, secret weapon designated for combating extraterrestrial invasion.” As he spoke, the mech fell to its side. “Codename: Wonder Inkling... Junior!” Just as he finished, the robot punctuated his introduction by exploding in a mighty fireball.

Without sparing a moment for their fallen comrade, the three remaining automatons launched another assault.

The empowered boy dodged with great agility, retaliating with super charged shots from his dual weapons. As they failed to hit him and began to succumb to his ink shots, he proposed diplomatically. “Lay down your arms invaders, come peacefully and we won't have to use force!”

One of them remained standing. Camouflaged just long enough by the explosions of its fellow robotic brethren, it moved to attack Lee.

In a flash, it was halted by a pink streak of light delivering a powerful punch.  The first hit sent the machine reeling off its feet, followed by a speedy second jab. The strike smashed clean through its metallic carapace, annihilating it just like the rest.

The new arrival was clothed in the same super powered exoskeleton and identity concealing mask as Lee. Only they were colored in flashy, passionate pink. The sight of the suddenly appearing costumed entity made Lee clench his fists tight against his sides and laugh. “Heh-eh, Mom, you made it!” Watching her turn to face him with a skeptical glance made him suddenly remember their decorum. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and saluted. “uh-ah-he-hum, thank you for coming, Wonderful One leading the Inkopolis Defense Force Field Operations, codename: Wonder Inkling!”

Her expression softened, and she couldn’t help but giggle. His abrupt eagerness to adopt this superhero persona he created was so charming. “Ara ara, oh honey, it’s so cute when you act like such a little hero!” A mighty clank sounded as she clapped her shining golden colored gauntlets together.

“Tsk, Mom…” He muttered at her fawning.

Just then, a serious, commanding voice buzzed over their communicating radios. “Come in Wonder Inkling Senior and Junior; the aliens are attacking the city. They’re converging on Inkopolis Tower. Make your way to Shee-Booyah as soon as possible.”

It was such a feat that in an instant, the peaceful city could be transformed into a warzone. I.D.F. jets rumbled across the sky while fights with earthbound enemies could be seen on the way to the center of town.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”   Janine punched her open hand with her fist. “Ready to go? Partner?”

Standing at her side, Lee readied his pair of super shooters. “I’m right here, ready for anything!” Thinking back; recalling the hours upon days upon weeks of convincing it took to get her to reconsider her decision of ending their ties to the Inkopolis Defense Force and fighting the invaders. Now, they were back in action.

Further fueled by his vigor, the maternal woman said, “That’s my boy. Wonder Inkling, and Wonder Inkling Jr!”  

She held out her hand, to which Lee leapt up to smack his own against hers. With their energies combined, the two merged together into the towering form of Unite Kraken.

With their wonderful power surging through their invincible transformation, the Squidly family yelled together. “Team, unite up!” and they charged into battle.

THE END....?

[szstrandingline18-blog]

Fiber Optic Cables

Secondary coating line

Every fiber optic cable guide features a radius limiting part that prevents fiber optic cables from being bent over and above their least bend radii. The fiber optic cables have apparent advantages around the copper cables. You can find extra safety, as well as the fiber optic cables tend to be more dependable than any other wire accessible. The fiber optic cable is in the significant voltage environment. Dry-band voltage of your polluted sheath's surface of the all-dielectric self-supporting fiber optic cable is analyzed in this paper.

Secondary coating line

The fiber optic cable seven-hundred, shown in FIG. The FIMT core 702 features an interior tube 706 encompassing one particular or maybe more optical fibers 708. The fiber optic cable will be the principal decision for prime velocity Net connections along with the most important substance useful for region to place or continent to continent Online connections. By going the connection type from copper to fiber optics it can allow the DisplayPort to attain better bandwidths that happen to be vital for HDTV playback and when you think about there are lots of games that you just can engage in over the internet, streaming them through the DisplayPort directly to your Lcd Tv might be a person choice the sector will soak up the around upcoming. The fiber optic cable could be installed very easily from level to stage, passing right future to major sources of EMI without having result. Conversion from copper networks is a snap with media converters, gadgets that change most sorts of systems to fiber optics.

The fiber optic cable assembly involves a bundle of fiber optic fibers, a tube, a observe, a plurality of fasteners and securing implies. The tube has a front floor plus a rear surface area. The fiber optic cable transmits the photon to a next quantum dot that also transpires to become sitting down between two mirrors. In such cases, the mirrors "catch" the photon and bounce it from the quantum dot till it eventually absorbs it. The fiber optic cable has an stop that is definitely stripped. The stripped end contains a bare fiber that extends in the connector and through the ferrule.

The fiber optic cable carries a number of providers all over campus which includes: voice, online video, cable Tv set, and facts. Besides possessing the fiber cable in place, newer fiber cable Tv set distribution gear grew to become a lot more available in a reduced price. The fiber optic cable and lens makes it possible for the instrument electronics to become retained far from the concentrate on environment wherever it could be subjected to increased temperatures, smoke, dust, steam or impressive electromagnetic emissions these as generated by induction heating. Each the stainless steel lens and rugged cable assembly may be replaced during the subject with out returning the instrument for calibration (a singular attribute). The Fiber Optic Cable Blower is suitable for the installation of fiber optic cables with diameters from 0.23" (five.eight mm) to 1.13" (28.7 mm) into innerduct from 0.98" (25 mm) outer diameter to one.97" (50.0 mm) outer diameter. The right size cable seals, feed tube and venturi needs to be determined for the cable remaining mounted.

The fiber optic cable receives enter in the reflection off of your internal 3/4 inch diameter sphere surface. The IS1 is right for transportable coloration measurements and functions just like a cosine receptor for irradiance measurements. The fiber optic cable (20) includes a light-weight carrying center (28), a cladding (30) plus a buffer (32). The cladding displacement connector (ten) has surfaces (sixty,62) that may be useful for displacing the buffer (32) and cladding (thirty) to expose (34) the light carrying heart (28).

Fiber-optic wires carry info while in the form of light-weight . To help make a fiber-optic nanowire, engineers initial commence which has a common fiber-optic cable. Fiber-optic cable has become getting used to transport both equally video clip and audio signals for brief and lengthy distances. This can be produced doable by modulating a video/audio sign(s) on to a beam of coherent light-weight, that is produced by a solid-state laser.

Fiber-optic cables usually are not crimped, soldered, or twisted jointly when they are repaired. If the cable is broken, one more cable has to be slice to suit between the 2 connectors. Fiber-optic technological know-how is very well regarded in telecommunications, regional spot networks, the CCTV security marketplace and in numerous Clever Transportation Procedure (ITS) highway projects. Even CATV (cable) distribution to varied regional feed points in just a household local community has become plan for fiber.

Network operators wish to recoup the price of the fiber-optic cable as well as other infrastructure parts which make a high-speed Net probable. They argue which the updates are needed to provide these innovations as high-definition video-on-demand and high-quality teleconferencing. Our typical fiber-optic ribbon cables give exceptional tensile power and resistance to cut-through and abrasion although preserving flexibility. Cables can be found for aerospace along with other demanding purposes. The fiber-optic cable didn't allow that.

glass,eyeglasses

Fiber Optic cabling is designed with glass fibers. Supply quite small variation during the signal they have above lengthy distances. Optical engineers have found that including distinctive further substances to the fundamental silicon dioxide they might change the optical qualities in the glass. By adding about 4% germanium dioxide (GeO2), by way of example, they could produce a glass that has a lot less attenuation, and far 'flatter' attenuation across various frequencies of sunshine, than silicon dioxide by by itself. Despite the fact that fibers may be built away from either plastic or glass, the fibers applied in long-distance telecommunications purposes are always glass, thanks to the lessen optical absorption of glass. The sunshine transmitted via the fiber is confined thanks to whole interior reflection inside of the material.

FYI, fiber optic (the main of it, not shell to go over it) is designed of glass rather than plastic. The fiber optic strands of glass (optic fibers) within just fiber optic cables carry analog or electronic alerts during the method of gentle waves. Length and capabilities will boost even more when the glass results in being much more pure.

Remembering the headache and also the good white gentle from superior SiO2 glass, Richard knew the formula will be ultra pure SiO2. Richard also understood that Corning produced superior purity SiO2 powder, by oxidizing pure SiCl4 into SiO2. NEP Supershooters has adapters that do the job across the fiber by breaking out the glass, but this suggests the camera have to be run within the closest electrical outlet or generator. It can be only one more thing to go erroneous in the event the ability plug gets pulled or the generator quits. A fibre optic cable is made up of the glass silica core by way of which light-weight is guided. This is protected using a substance which has a refractive index of somewhat significantly less compared to core.

The core and also the cladding (that has a lower-refractive-index ) are usually built of high-quality silica glass, though they might both equally be produced of plastic too. Connecting two optical fibers is finished by fusion splicing or mechanical splicing and requires particular expertise and interconnection know-how thanks on the microscopic precision required to align the fiber cores. A type of cable that transmits details as light-weight by way of strands of glass in lieu of electrical power through copper . Fiber-optic cable is often a amazing point; it may possibly transmit nearly insane amounts of information for each 2nd , and it is actually completely impervious to surge s, magnetic fields , lightning , and all of the other EM nasties which can influence copper cable. Fiber optic information transmission works by using mild in glass fiber cable as a interaction medium. It can be excellent for spanning locations with significant interference, these as close to major electrical equipment, welding or radio transmissions.

Fiber optics are skinny filaments of glass by means of which gentle beams are transmitted. Advantages of fiber include high info carrying ability (bandwidth), really small error rates and insensitivity to electromagnetic interference. Then, the bare glass (one hundred twenty five mm) is cleaned and established set up less than a distinctive laser underneath a custom made photograph mask that is definitely established 50 mm above the cable. As soon as the laser performs its cycle, the assembly has become personalized. Abraham Van Heel covered a bare fiber or glass or plastic using a clear cladding of lower refractive index. This shielded the whole reflection surface area from contamination and greatly decreased cross communicate amongst fibers.

Fiber-optic cable consists of glass fibers, allowing for appreciably bigger transfer speeds as opposed to copper. Facts are transmitted inside the form of mild pulses injected by a laser or an LED. The cable utilizes glass fibers in place of copper wires to transmit discussion and facts. AT&T's old cables generally are shark- free because they don't emit a great deal magnetism. Glass cables need to get custom-cut so that they have a nice crisp edge that doesn't scatter the light, but their plastic cousins is often trimmed on the jobsite. Still, no ordinary wire cutter will do.

From a technical standpoint, fiber optic cable consists of the bundle of glass or plastic rods that will transmit information alerts. Fiber optic cable can send and receive in both analog and digital formats, and can have online video, voice, and internet packets. Some new cable designers will actually give built-in bend limits to protect the glass within.

Although copper wires is often spliced and mended as lots of times as needed, it really is considerably harder to fix glass fiber-optic cables. And this time it is not all dependent on just one market (though Liquid crystal display glass is huge). We have the Liquid crystal display glass, auto/diesel catalytic converter substrates, and fiber. Theoretical perform showing that gentle loss in glass fibers could be decreased dramatically spurred experimental efforts to produce these types of fibers. Researchers continued exploring techniques to decrease mild loss in optical fibers.

[thirst-trapnhl]

Hook, Line and Sinker 3(mat barzal)

A/N: thank you for waiting so patiently! this part has been sitting with me for so long, changing and evolving and I’m so thrilled its turned into something I feel alright posting (lol) hope you enjoy! (word count: 1609)

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, disappointed best friend

Getting out of Mat’s apartment in the morning is no easy feat; his arm slung over your waist is heavy and warm and it takes every inch of self control you have to roll out from under his big, warm comforter and order an Uber back to your place to change before work. As you’re slipping your pants back on, you hear the bed creak with movement behind you and when you turn around, Mat has one eye cracked open, resting his head on his arm.

“You going?” His voice is groggy from sleep and it simultaneously melts your heart and makes you think of slipping back into bed and putting his mouth to work. Your voice is quiet when you respond, softened by the way his hair is splayed out against the pillow.

“Yeah, need to get back to my apartment to change before work.” You continue to dress yourself as he leans up on one elbow, hair flopping lazily to one side.

“Gonna let me call you this weekend?” You turn your attention back to him, expecting a teasing smirk and it strikes you when you read his face and there’s nothing but honest curiosity. It makes you blush and duck your head, a smile creeping onto your face that you don’t want him to see.

“Yeah, I guess I will.” The answering smile on his face when you look up again is just the tiniest bit smug, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your lunch break begins with a call from your best friend and your heart races with anxiety at the thought of telling her last night’s events.

“Hi, Jules,” you pick up and sandwich the phone between your ear and your shoulder so you can finish the last line of your final email.

“Hey, babe. How’s the day going?” You hadn’t told her about seeing Mat at the bar last week, assuming it would be forgotten quickly anyway, but you look around you for any coworkers before telling her somberly, “I have to end things with Jason today.”

You can hear the apprehension in her voice when she asks why and you let out a shaky breath, resting your head against your desk. “I saw Mat last night, and, uh, some stuff happened, and I think he might wanna get back together?”

As you finish your sentence, you realize you actually have no idea why he’s asked if he can call you and the thought sinks your stomach. There’s a sigh and a long pause before Julia’s voice comes through the line.  It’s halfway between frustration and sympathy when she finally answers you with a “Oh, honey,” and your immediate reaction is to defend yourself, cheeks burning even though she can’t see you.

“I know, I know, so stupid, but he kept showing up at the bar across from my apartment and I went over to confront him and you know how he is.” The line is silent again for a moment before she answers with a “mhm.” There’s a frown etched on your face now, worried that her disapproval is a sign that you’ve really fucked up.

“He’s just,” she cuts you off before you can get any further. “I know how he is, (Y/N), and I also know how you are with him.”

Your voice is smaller than intended when you tell her “I just think it might be different this time.” You can almost hear the sad smile on her face when she says “Call me after you talk to Jason if you need to, ok?” You thank her and hang up the phone and ignore the knot in your stomach when you think about what you have to do.

The conversation with Jason is sad and awkward and you can’t help but note how resigned he is. You have to force yourself to look him in the eyes when you tell him you don’t think you should see each other anymore. He fiddles with his watch uncomfortably when tells you he figured it was over the second you turned around to get one last glance that first night Mat was at the bar. You feel bad, you really do, and you express that to him. All he can do is shake his head with sad eyes and pat your hand, telling you that “You deserve good things. I hope you find that.” He really was too sweet for you. He always was.

You spend your Friday afternoon unblocking Mat on every social media platform and figuring out how to unblock his phone number, hoping he hadn’t called before you could get the chance. You settle back into work and you don’t know how long you’ve been staring at your computer when your phone buzzes against your desk, lighting up with his name. You know it’s a little ridiculous, but you count five rings before picking up, not wanting to seem like you were waiting for his call. The speaker crackles a little as his voice comes through, and you feel yourself blush despite literally being alone in your cubicle. “Dinner tomorrow night?” He cuts right to the chase, and you let out a huff at his lack of greeting, but you’re not even gonna pretend you can say anything but, “Sounds good. What time?” He pauses for a moment, almost long enough for you to ask if he’s still there, before answering. “6:30. Italian place near yours good?” You nod as an answer before stuttering out a “yeah, fine with me.” He hangs up after a “see you there, Angel,” and you roll your eyes at his briefness but can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. You spend the rest of the day unfocused, thinking about fluttering eyelashes and gentle fingertips and the way your name sounds better in the dark.

Saturday night rolls around and he’s already there when you walk in the door; Black dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to see the loop of his chain and you let yourself get a good, long look at him before he catches you. Sliding into the chair across from him, you see that he’s already ordered a bottle of wine, and probably your meals. He looks up from the table with a “hey, Gorgeous,” and heat pools low in your belly. “I ordered the waiters recommendations, that cool?” You nod in response and he beams. “Cool. How was your day?” It sends you into a story about Tiffany from HR being annoying in the break room and half way through, he stops you mid-sentence. “Is this the same girl who complained about the paper towels or whatever?” He has this look on face, like he’s really and truly annoyed with Tiffany and her shenanigans and it has you throwing your head back in laughter.

“I can’t believe you actually remembered the paper towel fiasco, but yes that’s her.” He shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

“Can’t believe that girl’s still giving you problems.” He lets you finish the story and at the end he snorts out a “fucking Tiffany.” It makes you hang your head in laughter, not wanting to disturb the other customers with a full-out cackle. When you look back up at him, he’s staring straight at you. His smile is warm, fond and a little proud and it makes your brain a little fuzzy.

“What’s the face for, Barz?” He chuckles at the use of the nickname and the side of his smile lifts into a smirk.

“I just like that I still make you laugh.” The sentiment settles into a comfortable silence when your waiter brings the food over and Mat waits for you to stick your fork in first. Dinner goes quickly, trading stories of life on the road and in the office between bites. You’re excited to hear Tito’s got himself a girlfriend; His congratulations is sincere when you mention how much your boss loved your last project. The bottom of the wine bottle comes around and you’re just buzzed enough that after Mat orders a dessert to share, you call his name and he gives you his undivided attention.

“What are we doing?” He understands the weight of the question, choosing his words carefully.

“All I want is to enjoy spending time with someone I enjoy spending time with. I missed hanging out with you, (Y/N).” You take a moment to chew on his words; debating with yourself whether the likelihood of heartbreak is a fair price to pay for the buzz in your bones every time Mat’s fingertips brush your skin. He doesn’t pressure you to respond, letting your mind play through the possible scenarios in front of you. You quickly come to the conclusion that you’re as in love with him as you were the day he left. The decision to make now was either to walk away and break your own heart, or stay and give him the option to break it for you. You were always an intuitive girl, trusting your gut to take you where you needed to be. Right now, despite your head telling you to run as fast as you can, your gut was screaming that your story wasn’t over. Mat and the universe had more places to take you, if you’d let them. The waiter places a slice of cheesecake between you and jostles you out of your thoughts. Mats looking at you across the table, eyes soft and a little hopeful and you feel a smile begin on your face as you reach across the table to grab his hand. “I missed you too, Mathew.”