#was trying to figure out what prime fa would look like

[wheerl]

wips

fanart I did for @cytokiine’s fic Reframing! I did these back in uhhh august hddhdh I said I’d post them a while ago and then I didn’t 😔😔

[tinydefector]

Would you be willing to write g1 beachcomber rescuing a human pet and kinda falling in love with them? With gentle petting/fondling

Safe and Sound

Took me a bit to write this, but I did enjoy making this and made it a bit self indulgent, cause all I want at the moment is cuddles and someone running their fingers against my spine.

Ship: Beachcomber x human reader

Word count: 1k

Warning: slight mention of abuse,

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Beachcomber Masterlist

______________________

It had been a complete shock for Beachcomber, this Decepticon energon storage wasn't what he had expected. this was different, the large cage in the room is what made his plating rattle, he was truthfully expecting the Decepticon's to have been poaching animals as trophies. But as his optics land on the form of a human curled up in blankets he nearly short circuit's. 

They gasp when they see him moving back further trying to escape him. His usually calm and peaceful demeanour was disrupted by the sight of human in distress. He couldn't ignore them or leave them at the mercy of whichever Decepticon came back to this hideout, so he cautiously approached the cage where they were trapped.

"Easy now," Beachcomber said softly, his voice gentle and soothing. "I'm here to help. You're safe now." With careful precision, he quick and quiet with releasing them from their cage. "You're free now. Let's get you out of here before one of those nasty cons come back." 

Beachcomber is rather gentle as he takes them out of the cage even as they protest, his optics linger on the blankets as he grabs one. Gently wrapping it around them. " easy, easy" he coos softly. He runs one of his fingers against their face as he wipes away their tears he smiles at them before he hears other bots calling out to him. 

His little rescue clings desperately to him with each step he takes. Soft noises of protest over being taken, but also small thanks as if they couldn't tell if they could trust this bot or not. 

Beachcomber felt a surge of compassion as the small human clung to him, their fear palpable. He knelt down, his large frame dwarfing the tiny figure in his grasp. With a gentle smile, he placed a hand on the human's back, offering reassurance.

"It's okay, little one. You're safe now, what's your name honey?" Beachcomber he asked, his voice filled with warmth. When they relay their name Beachcomber gently rubs their back. "I'm Beachcomber" he introduces himself. With careful movements, Beachcomber adjusted his grip to provide a secure hold for the frightened human. He stood up, cradling them protectively against his chest, their small hands clutching onto his plating for dear life. Slowly, he began to walk back towards the gathering of other Autobots.

 Beachcomber caught the attention of his fellow Autobots. Jazz turns his visor towards Beachcomber, concern etched on his face. "Hey, Comber, everything alright?" Jazz asks as he moves towards the other bot, he isn't expecting to see a frightened human in Beachcomber's arms. 

Beachcomber nodded, his expression calm yet determined. "We've got a little one seems like energon isn't the only thing that had been kept hidden here. They've been through a lot." He explains slowly massaging circles into their back. 

Jazz's face softened, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Cons are keeping humans as pets now?, yall wanna let Prime know"

Nearly a week later, Beachcomber's little companion hadn't left his side, he had even set up an area for them to sleep in his area, Piles of soft pillows blankets. They look rather peaceful curled up sleeping. As the days passed, Beachcomber noticed the human's reliance on him. Their fear of other bots was evident, except for Beachcomber himself. It troubled him to think about what the human had endured and which Decepticon had caused them such distress. 

He moves slowly, laying down beside the mass of bedding. His servo rest over their waist, the other moves to gently cradle their face tracing their nose cheeks and lips. 

 Their eyes flicker open filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, their small frame huddled close to Beachcomber's, he smiles to himself moving a little so that they were comfortable against his chassis. 

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Beachcomber began gently, his voice filled with compassion. "I hope you are feeling better, do you need anything?." They slowly shake  their head and snuggle closer, They look up at Beachcomber, their gaze searching for reassurance. After a moment of hesitation, they spoke, their voice trembling. "The Decepticon... I don't know which one, is he dead?" 

Beachcomber's optics dimmed slightly. His gentle hand reached out to rest on their back helping them sit up on his bulk, offering a comforting touch. "No... when we found you there wasn't anyone there. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. The Decepticons can be cruel, but I promise you, no con is ever going to lay servos on you"

He paused, his voice filled with determination as he continued, "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe. You never have to face another con again." It makes them start to sob softly, pressing their face into his servo more. It nearly makes his spark shatter seeing them like this.

"Shhh I've got you, I've got you," he leans up to press a kiss to their forehead, slowly he runs his digits against their spine up their neck. "Your safe here sweetspark" he coos. 

They lay against his bulk, resting but not sleeping. "He kept me as a pet, entertainment, liked to humiliate me with Chained collars as parade me around" the whispers softly and it makes Beachcomber look down at them, his servos are gentle as they explore, tracing the marks left by the collar. 

They let out a soft sigh leaning into each touch, Beachcomber's hands didn't make their skin crawl, they nearly gasp as a digit presses against the skin of their hips. His optics flicker as he pulls away. "Did that hurt?" 

"No.. just wasn't expecting it" they state softly, taking a moment before continuing their sentence "Beach you can touch me, I'm not made of glass, you make me feel safe" 

"Well I guess I'll continue then" he hums light, digits gliding along their hips, slowly massaging them before ghosting over their stomach. His other servo moves to grip their thighs slowly pressing into the flesh, enjoying the warmth of their skin. As they lay back down he continues as they slowly fall asleep against him. "Rest well sweetspark" 

[moistvonlipwig]

Saw your Spike post and thought you really hit the nail on the head. Great observation!

In that post, you mentioned some bargain bin imitators, and I was wondering: which characters do you see as falling into that bucket?

hm so it's hard to produce a definitive listing because while i think bargain bin spikes are definitely a Thing, i haven't necessarily seen all the media in which they appear -- for instance, i've heard that both damon and klaus from the vampire diaries would probably qualify, but i never saw that show (and don't really want to lol).

and on the other hand there are lots of bad boy characters who...may or may not be actually trying to imitate spike. i think some bad boy characters are not very spike-like and thus we can safely say they are not bargain bin spikes -- kylo ren, for instance, is i think far too broody and self-serious of a character to be a bargain bin spike.

then you have ones that i would generally say fall under the 'bargain bin spike' umbrella, in that they are misogynist bad boy/comic relief characters who fall for the lead and thus (allegedly) change but unlike spike are romanticized and boring, but in a lot of these cases it's hard to say whether or not the writers were deliberately attempting to invoke spike with their characterization. a prime example of this type of character would be mon-el from supergirl (who is, incidentally, one of the worst characters ever put on television, and a massive disgrace to his perfectly likable counterpart from the comic books). therefore, while i would feel comfortable calling such characters bargain bin spikes, others might see the comparison as unfair.

however the character who actually inspired me to make that post is so quintessentially, undeniably a bargain bin spike that even if you like him it is impossible to argue (without looking like a very silly goose, anyway) that he is not a blatant attempt to ape spike's success. and that character is captain hook from once upon a time.

(to be clear -- there are two versions of captain hook in ouat, and i am talking about the one from s2-6, not the one from s7 commonly referred to as 'wish hook' on account of being from an alternate universe created by a wish a la the btvs wishverse episode. wish hook is my best friend and my silly rabbit and one of my favorite characters ever. and imo he is a far more successful character than his s2-6 counterpart largely because he is not a crude imitation of spike but rather a unique attempt to actually engage with the mythology of captain hook as a literary/folkloric character and figure in popular culture. ANYWAY when i refer to captain hook for the rest of this post just know that i am referring to the s2-6 version.)

if you haven't seen ouat, captain hook is a white dude with a british accent (his actor is irish and has an irish accent but specifically puts on a british one for the role) who wears eyeliner and calls people "luv" a lot and his signature look is a black leather duster with a red shirt underneath (yes, really). he starts off as a bad boy/villain character who is sometimes played for comic relief but has vague sexual tension with one of the protagonists, emma swan.

then in the third season he rather abruptly decides that he's in love with emma (why? who knows) and takes it upon himself to pursue her romantically, refusing to take no for an answer and hitting on her at some pretty inappropriate times and in some pretty gross and coercive ways, even sexually assaulting her at one point. unlike spike, he is not portrayed as creepy for this; at worst, he is portrayed as sort of comically out of touch, and often he is portrayed as sexy and romantic. he ends up in a romantic relationship with her and changes his wicked pirate ways to be good enough for her or what the fuck ever, who cares, it's all very unconvincing and played completely straight when it really shouldn't be.

if it weren't already obvious that he is ouat's answer to spike, there's also the fact that the showrunners were huge btvs fans and often took inspiration from that show's storylines -- the wishverse is one example, but they also do an eyeroll-worthy homage to buffy killing angel, a musical episode where the characters are self-aware, et cetera. so why did captain hook fail (in my opinion -- in the court of public opinion, he's quite popular) when spike succeeded? well, for the reasons i laid out in my earlier post -- the showrunners wrote hook the way they did because they all liked spike and wanted hook to be like spike. there was no one in the writers' room (or no one with power, anyway) to push back against the romanticization of the character or to challenge the audience to think about him differently. it's like if the btvs writers' room had only jane espenson, but no david fury or joss whedon or any of the other, more spike-critical writers.

and uh. when i say it's like if the btvs writers' room had espenson but not fury or whedon, what i really mean is:

yeah.

a final note: i think one of the few examples of the spike archetype being done well by a show that isn't btvs is nathaniel plimpton from crazy ex-girlfriend -- a character who is a deliberate parody of bad boys who turn good for the love of a woman. he has failings as a character too, but they're much more akin to spike's own failings as a character, e.g. hogging too much screentime and narrative importance in a show that's supposed to be about women. he is certainly not portrayed as an aspirational love interest or hero. i think it says something that the best imitation-spike is the one that's making fun of him, not trying to be him.

[themysteriousauthor18]

Your worth it [Radiodust oneshot]

"Care to explain why you are late again this evening." 

"I toldja I was out with someone!" 

This isn't what Angel needed right now. He just got back to the hotel and it was a little over midnight. 12:05 to be precise. Clearly, Alastor had an issue with it. Since Vaggie nor Charlie could get him to follow that curfew, Alastor had been put in charge. 

It wasn't like he hadn't been trying to get back in time, but it didn't matter how hard he tried. 

Naturally, Charlie and Vaggie were also in the room, standing behind Alastor watching as he tore Angel apart, metaphorically of course. Vaggie scoffed crossing her arms and rolled her eyes. Normally Charlie, who was behind her, would have intervened but she seemed to justify it this time.

What a load of bullshit was that?

"So you were out with another of your 'clients.'" Alastor asked his tone firm.

With the day Angel had that tone sounded smug which only pissed him off more when in reality it was just how Alastor talked and merely a simple question. He just wanted to go to his room and deal with any punishments later.

Angel crossed his upper set, lower on his hips as he glared right back at the deer demon. "Maybe it was a fuckin' guy who was takin' me out fa dinner you don't fucking know!"

Alastor laughed, "right. Like anyone would date you, a slut." 

"Alastor!" Charlie interjected her eyes growing wide at the clear overstep. 

"What? I am merely stating facts, my dear. You truly believe anyone in their right mind would actually compliment him on anything besides his sexual favors? Give him flowers, or even give him a letter that isn't-"

"Alastor enough." Charlie sternly said, eyes meeting her business partners. Alastor didn't understand what the big deal was, that was until he looked back at Angel dust.

He wasn't crying, no of course not. But his eyes held a clear gloss over them. Nails dug into his arm and clothing but the look on his face practically spat venom.

It was then he realized he'd gone too far. He didn't know what to say, 'sorry' obviously was appropriate. But no words found their way to his mouth as he stared at that expression.

"Angel, Alastor didn't mean it. I'm sure anyone would wanna-"

The arackniss laughed it off as he quickly brushed by, the bar cat watched from his place behind the counter. Eyes just as wide as Charlie's and even Vaggie who knew it had gone too far. 

"No he's right.," Angel muttered, voice strained. "Who'd eva love a slut like me. It's all I'm good for is sex."  

"Angel that's not what he was saying!" Charlie tried but Angel was already walking out of the room, making the excuse of feeling tired and needing to sleep. Though it wasn't entirely false. 

Alastor stared at the spot Angel had been in, only turning once the spider had left the room. His smile tightened and although the others couldn't see, his nails dug into the palms behind his back.

"Alastor that was so mean! You shouldn't say such hurtful things!" Charlie said with a disapproving frown.

Vaggie wrapped an arm around her girlfriend shaking her head as she pulled her away. Even Husk was shaking his head at the radio demon before turning his back away and chugging down some alcohol. 

The demon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he had gone too far. 

"You gotta fix that. Kids not gonna be too happy with you if you don't at least say sorry." Husk announced. 

Alastor looked back at the hall. "..Yes, perhaps you're right." Although he didn't doubt what he said was true, it was uncalled for. 

The redhead briskly walked out of the lobby and down the hall to Angel's room. Near the end, he stopped at one of the many doors and gently knocked. It sounded quiet, normally he would have heard some sort of music from inside or something breaking from the other times Angel had lashed out.

There was no response to the knock, understandable. So he tried again, this time hearing shuffling from inside followed by a hiss of some sort. He took a step back, folding his hands behind his back, and waited. But when there was no answer to the door, nor any indication that there would be, he decided to speak.

"Angel? This is Alastor." No response. "I recognize that what I had said may have been out of line and I would like to apologize." Still no response. 

The redhead sighed and shook his head. "Angel? Are you there?" At times Alastor wasn't great at picking up on social cues, right now was one of those times. 

He was apologizing, isn't that what Angel desired? Why not simply open the door and accept it? Then they could be on their merry way. 

Alastor took a step back, deciding it best to just leave the spider to his tantrum. But when he heard the all too audible footsteps followed by the door opening he turned back. 

Angel stood in the doorway, his usual attire wrinkled, mascara running down his white fur eyes puffy and red. A blanket was lazily draped around his shoulders held up by his top set while the bottom held himself. 

Alastor simply flashed his usual smile, the fake one. "Ah there you are, I hope there are no hard feelings between us. You do understand that-" 

"Your fucking fake Alastor!" Angel suddenly yelled.

His words caught Alastor off guard, he couldn't remember the last time someone had dared speak to him in such away. The last person who had ended up being his dinner for the night. 

His eyes narrowed, grin widening. "You are certainly one to talk Angel. You are the very definition of it." Alastor spat back. 

Angel's grip around the blanket tightened, baring his own teeth. "Oh, you just came ta insult me some more hah!? Your only apologizing 'cause Charlie got on ya fuckin' ass for it! I don't need your damn pity! I know what I am I don't need you to fucking tell me!" 

Alastor for the first time in years found himself at a loss for words. And before he could gather any the door was being slammed in his face with enough force to cause his monocular to fall off. 

He rolled his eyes, the spider would calm down in time. He always did, this would all blow over in a few days.

It didn't. 

1 week had passed and while Angel seemed back to his usual self it was clear he now had some strong animosity towards the radio demon. Whether he'd always had it and was now showing it, or it was the result of their argument was undecided. 

He behaved normally towards everyone else in the hotel, drinking with Husk, helping Charlie out where he could, and only occasionally messing with Vaggie. 

But Alastor, he wouldn't even look at the man. And when the radio demon directly approached him he would walk off. 

It was no secret, everyone had noticed it including Alastor. 

Angel would only occasionally hit on the radio demon and that was whenever the redhead approached him or he was told to. Otherwise, they didn't speak, that had been how things were between them before all of this. 

Truly, it was a blessing to no longer have those comments. At least, he thought it would be. He didn't miss him, no no. To miss someone you had to enjoy their company in the first place. 

No, it was...simply exhausting. 

With Angel being the hotel's prime and first client there was a lot of advertisement involved. And quite a lot of times Alastor or Charlie would handle them, lately, Charlie had to handle them since the spider wouldn't even speak to Alastor. 

Truly it was just, problematic. 

"Your gonna have to fix this," Husk told, pouring a generous glass of whisky. He'd need it.

"Yes Husker I am well aware," Alastor replied, sipping the drink. 

"And you tried apologizing?" The cat poured a glass for himself. 

"Yes, but the stubborn fool wouldn't accept it. He insists on fighting about this when there is truly no point in it." Alastor shook his head as if it were all so crystal clear.

Husk gave him a look as he leaned on the bar. "I know your new to friends and everything-"

"He is no friend of mine," Alastor said into his glass.

"Yeah, sure." Husk grumbled. "But you can't just say something like that and expect them to forgive you just like that. Not how people work kid." 

Alastor scoffed at the term, even if Husk was older than him he didn't like being addressed as such. "Then what am I supposed to do? Hm? This little tantrum of his has become quite troublesome for my work."

Husk rolled his eyes as he finished his drink, refilling it. He knew what Angel was feeling wasn't a tantrum and was justified, but he knew Alastor too. He wasn't going to listen, he'd have to just learn the hard way. 

"Figure it out. Your problem, you clean it up." 

Alastor's eyes glowed, an obvious annoyance behind them. But Husk knew as well as he that the radio demon wouldn't kill him. Not unless he crossed a line. The cat didn't fear death but welcomed it, so there wasn't much he could do to punish him or scare him. 

Husk met his glare, not backing down or cowering like most of hells citizens would in this situation. He'd stared death in the face during life more times than he could count, he wasn't about to cower just because some pissy deer man was glaring at him. 

After a moment, Alastor huffed and shot back the rest of his drink before setting it down on the counter. As per usual, Husk was right. 

"Fine. I shall think of something." Alastor grumbled as he pushed off the bar and begun walking towards the exit. 

"Good luck." Husk offered as Alastor left the hotel for the afternoon. 

He didn't know what day it was, nor the month. Then again time was irrelevant in hell.  All he knew was that he was tired and wanted to sleep. 

It had been another hard day at the studio filled with its usual challenges and little rewards. With the shooting for his new film coming out, the clients and then having to deal with Valentino's horrible attitude, it was all too much for today.

Not to mention his temper that had gotten him into trouble in the first place and the bruises on his face. Make-up would cover it up, or at least that was Valentino's excuse. 

The spider trudged to his door, the sky had darkened long ago. Sleep. That's all he wanted. 

Walking to his room he expected a lot of things, mainly Charlie ambushing him and trying to convince him to 'make up' with Alastor. He didn't see the point, it was Alastor who had crossed the line, to begin with. And frankly, he no longer wanted to deal with the man.

When he reached the door of his room, something greeted him that he did not expect. 

Sitting on the floor in front of his door lay a red envelope closed with a wax seal. 

With a grown, lower pair holding himself, he leaned down and picked up the envelope walking into his room with it. Fat nuggets greeted him, the only highlight of his day. He picked up the small pig in his lower set and sat himself down on the bed. 

He switched his lamp on as he settled onto his small pink bed. It wasn't the best but it was something, and that's what mattered, to him at least. 

He sighed as he removed the seal and opened the envelope. It was probably one of his creepy fans sending him another letter. He didn't mind it, it came with the job. What he did mind was that they were being sent to his room in the hotel. He wanted this to be a place where he could get away from that, not having to deal with it still.

Oh well.

As he pulled the red? A red paper? Okay, that was strange.

As he pulled the red paper from the envelope, discarding that he turned it over in his hands, his brows knitting together in confusion. It wasn't a letter about how much this person loved his body, movies, or any of that, hell there weren't even any stains on it. It wasn't even a letter.

It just had a single sentence written on it in neat cursive. 

You are nice

Angel wasn't sure how to feel about this. His first thought was that this was a prank, but then remembered nobody in the hotel pulled pranks, except maybe Nifty. But she didn't talk with him much.

Maybe it was sent to the wrong place? 

Angel shook his head, far too tired to try and figure this out. Still, even if it wasn't meant for him the note was nice even if he didn't believe it or if it wasn't true. 

He smiled briefly and carefully set the paper on his vanity somewhere where his pig couldn't get it. 

With that out of the way, the spider flopped onto his bed, allowing the much-needed sleep to take him as his mind buzzed around the sentence on the note and the mysterious person who wrote it. 

He thought that was the end of it, but the next evening when he returned from the studio, just like the previous night another letter greeted him in the same spot. Same envelope, same-colored paper, and same hand-writing. 

Doing the same as he had the previous night, he opened the letter again, this time a new sentence greeted him.

You are good

Angel huffed at the message, if this was an accident then it was a nice one. If there had been an address anywhere he would have perhaps written back and let them know of the mix-up. But there wasn't.

Still, he enjoyed it while it lasted. He was sure the person they were intended for would notify the other that they weren't getting them and this would end, but for now he would enjoy it. 

As the days went on, Angel continued to get a new letter each day upon returning to his room. Each and every single one held the same red paper and envelope and always had just one sentence neatly written in cursive on it.

At first, the messages seemed awkward but with each new one, they appeared more genuine than the last.

You are smart

You are brave

You are strong 

You are powerful 

And then those notes branched off into longer messages with more emotion behind them.

You glow brighter than any star.

You are incredibly selfless 

Your smile is a rare and beautiful site. 

And then came the latest one...

You are worth it.

This had been going on for another week at the very least and Angel found himself looking forward to them. He didn't know who they came from, but he could imagine that they were meant for him.

"Whatever you did must be working," Husk muttered from behind the bar. Alastor sat on the other side, sipping his whisky as he worked on some papers.

"What makes you say that?" He asked, not looking up from his work.

  Husk was polishing a glass as he looked to the redhead. "Kids seemed more chipper than usual. He left this morning smiling like an idiot and actually wanted to help that princess with cleaning yesterday. What did you do put a spell on him?"

Alastor chuckled, sipping his drink a more genuine smile falling on his lips. "No. Merely an....experiment you could say." One that seemed to be working. 

Truthfully the first few had been just cliche greetings and compliments, but in his more...recent ones, they had been rather genuine. 

Angel still refused to speak to him, but that was fine. He wasn't outright walking away whenever he got close to him now, but still wouldn't talk. 

He couldn't help but observe Angel these past days, noticing just how kind he could be whenever those rare moments presented themselves. He'd offered to help Charlie with cleaning, Nifty with cooking, and even held a decent conversation with Vaggie without fighting. 

And while there were times Angel could be rather vulgar, he found he had his moments where he shined like a star. Just the other evening he'd stumbled upon the spider teaching the princess a bit of dancing, likely during their cleaning. 

Of course, once he was noticed the spider went cold once again. 

It was a side that he didn't know Angel could have. And it fascinated him. 

"Hey Husky~" The voice came from behind, Alastor didn't bother turning already knowing who it was. 

The cat rolled his eyes as the spider strolled up to the bar, hopping onto one of the stools, noticeably away from the redhead who he pretended wasn't there. 

"The fuck do you want." Husk grumbled, per usual.

Angel wasn't affected, he was wearing a dress today, and his make up a little heavier. He'd just gotten back. "A drink~" He purred.

Husk shook his head with a groan as he got to work on getting the spider a drink.

Alastor kept his gaze off the spider, knowing it wasn't wanted nor was he. But he wasn't going to move just because Angel was here, he had work to do. 

As Husk prepared the drink, Angel leaned on the bar a small smile on his lips. He did appear more chipper, but with Alastor there, it did make things a bit awkward. 

"You look like haven just accepted your ass. What you get some good dick for once?" Husk asked, placing the pink drink in front of Angel. 

The spider hummed, sipping the straw lightly as he maintained that smile. "Nah, but let's go with that." 

Husk shrugged, not prying. It wasn't his business, but he already knew why the spider was behaving this way and who was behind it. Not that he was going to say anything. 

"I'll be right back." Husk grumbled, turning to leave the bar. Angel piped up, alarmed as he grabbed the cat's arm.

"Were ya goin' Husky? You don't wanna hang with me?" Angel said, batting his eyes but the anxiety was there.

Husk gave him a look. "Can't I fuckin' take a leak? Damn. You're a big boy you'll be fine." He grumbled as he pulled his arm away.

It was an excuse but the pair needed an obvious talk and he sure as hell wasn't going to be around for it. 

Angel frowned as Husk left the room, leaving just him and the radio demon alone at the bar. He slumped down against the bar, keeping his eyes on the drink. His stomach churned, he wanted to get up and leave but at the same time knew he had to confront this eventually.

Just not today. 

At least that was his excuse, he would finish his drink and then go back to his room. He was never good at confrontation.

Alastor knew what Husk was doing and didn't miss the fear in Angel's voice. Not fear of him, but for being alone with him. 

He closed his eyes, sighing, and set the papers aside. This confrontation was inevitable, it was bound to happen eventually. 

The redhead looked to his side, only noticing just how Angel was dressed. It was tacky at best, but that was only because he found Angel more appealing without all the make-up. It was that raw bare-bone self that he enjoyed seeing. 

The real Angel, not this facade. 

He cleared his throat, watching for any indication that Angel wanted to speak to him. He flinched but didn't look his way. Of course.

Lord, what was he supposed to say in this situation. 

"You are wearing quite a lot of make-up today.." Not that.

Angel frown turned into a scowl at the comment but didn't offer a reply, hit pace on the drink quickened. 

"Not that there's anything wrong with that..." Alastor quickly added it didn't seem to help. 

Angel shook his head, finishing his drink. "You can tell Charlie to stop pressuring you I'll fuckin' tell her I forgive you." Even though he didn't. 

Alastor's smile faltered as Angel pushed off the bar and started for the hall, a week back he would have let him go. Wouldn't have cared but this time for whatever reason, he did to some extent. Whether it was the desire to be forgiven or to no longer have that cold towards him.

He quickly followed after the spider who was briskly walking down the hallway. He had to say something. So in this moment of panic and limited time frame, his mind decided to blur out,

"You're worth it!" 

He mentally smacked himself. 

He didn't know if the reaction was positive or not, but he caused the spider to stop dead in his tracks. 

Alastor ground his teeth together at the deafening silence that lasted for five minutes at the very least. He was truly contemplating just turning around and leaving the hallway, pretending this never happened. 

But refrained from doing so when Angel turned and looked at him, not with anger but pure confusion. 

"What." He finally said. 

Alastor hesitated, cursing at the ears on his head folding back at his anxiety bubbling up in his chest. He swore these feelings were destroyed long ago.

"You... you're worth it." He slowly repeated. 

Angel just stared, wide-eyed as the gears in his head worked to click the pieces together. Alastor stood like a statue, his body tense. 

"You wrote those notes," Angel said his voice strained. Alastor opened his mouth to reply but was at a loss for words. "Seriously!?" Angel's voice raised as he spun around, not marching up to Alastor and aggressively poking his chest. "You think it's fuckin' funny playing these pranks on me!? Huh! Your pretty fucking sick Alastor!" 

"Angel let me explain please!" Alastor's voice raised, something that didn't happen very often if at all.

Angel was back to glaring at the deer demon, he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "You got five minutes." 

He didn't know why he felt the need to explain himself, or maybe he did know why and just didn't want to acknowledge it. Either way, he wanted to try at the very least to mend the tear in whatever it was they had.

"I'm not very good with words nor emotions." Alastor started with, ears still pressed down against his head, showing his true feelings despite the now smaller smile on his lips. 

He continued, "I am not very good with people. Their desires yes..but not truly befriending them." 

"Four minutes," Angel stated bitterly.

"What I said to you crossed a line." 

"Yeah, it did." 

"But I did not mean to offend you. Even if it appeared that way, Husker aside, I've never met someone such as you either Angel. Someone who has no problem putting me in my place and not fearing me. I am not sure what to say that could mend what I've said nor am I sure there is anything I could say except, I'm sorry. And Charlie is by no means forcing me to this, it's all my own choice." 

Angel sighed, his eyes glued to Alastor and that expression. "I don't know if I can forgive you right now.." Angel muttered. 

"I understand," Alastor answered calmly. 

"Why the notes..was that just a game." 

Alastor shook his head. "I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know how. Even if I am not forgiven I believe it's only right that you deserve some sort of happiness here." 

A silence fell between them as Angel processed it all and Alastor tried to maintain eye contact, resisting the urge to walk away. 

"Didja mean it," Angel asked, an uncharacteristically serious look to those mismatched eyes. "Your notes." 

"At first, no." He answered honestly. "But the more I wrote them they began to become genuine." 

Angel huffed shaking his head. "You got a crush on me or somethin' Smiles?" He joked, lightly. 

Alastor smile tightened. "I don't know." His answer was honest and vulnerable something Angel didn't expect.

Angel colors tinted red in surprise. "Uh.." 

Alastor looked away, his own face turning a shade of red. "You are..different, and it's intriguing." 

Angel scoffed, unraveling his arms. "Yeah, I'm different alright. Sex worker 'in shit." 

"Yes, you are.." Alastor looked up. "But I've come to realize that you are far more than that. That you are indeed worth it." 

Angel's lips turned up into a small smile, the genuine tone in the deer's voice being more than enough of an indication that he was being truthful this time. 

"I'll consider forgivin' ya. But this is a good start." Angel offered, and Alastor perked up a visible light in his eyes if those ears perking up too were any indication. 

That was cute.

"Would dinner perhaps help?" Alastor offered his face reddening.

"Hm, I'll think about it," Angel said with an obvious smile. "Gal needs 'er beauty sleep though." 

"Ah-yes, right," Alastor said nervously. "Well, goodnight Angel." 

"Goodnight Alastor," Angel called back as they turned their opposite ways down the hallway.

The next morning Angel awoke to another note on his nightstand, and this time, a red rose sat beside it. 

Angel beamed as he opened the note finding the following message written in neat cursive:

You are an Angel.

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 7

Only one chapter left after this one! It may not get posted tomorrow though as I’m still working on it. 

Day 7: Homesick for @taiqrowweek 

Rating:  T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Feet

~

When Qrow was twenty, he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned away. Couldn’t stand looking at Tai, hurt and confused, knowing he was to blame for it.

Scowled, because why should he care anymore when the other hardly spared him the time?

“’Course I am.” He finally snipped, shoving more socks into a duffel. “Have you seen my face?”

He had to resist the self-conscious urge to touch the cotton bandage on the right side of his forehead, hiding the stitches holding the three-inch gash together.

The beer bottle had shattered on impact. It was a wonder he didn’t get fractures. Small miracles. Though he was pretty sure some memories had been knocked askew because most of the night was a haze. He was only certain of the things that had become routine at that point: coming home to crack open a few with his old man while they watched prime time television and bitched about the state of things. An argument started, over what he couldn’t say, and Qrow never saw the swing coming before he was out cold on the floor.

When he woke up, it was with the hard realization it was time to get out.

Too bad his best friend didn’t get the memo. Tai perched on the edge of his bed as he had a thousand times before, pressing on, “But to the capital city? You don’t have to go so far.”

“Tch. You got any better ideas?” The hangers rattled against one another as he yanked down more shirts.

“Why not stay with me and Rae? We can make room.”

That made him pause, looking over. “Why?”

“Why not?” Was the simple counter as if it were as simple as that. Then, Tai rose his hand to his stomach, fondness smoothing his features, “Besides, then you’ll be close when the baby comes along.”

Fucking, of course. The rush of fury that flooded his system was white-hot, jealousy snapping at the end of every nerve. “So you get yourself knocked up and suddenly it’s my problem?”

“W-What?”

An alarm went off in the back of his head, trying to tell him to pull back – but the words were already leaving his mouth, spiteful and petty and mean, “I’m not sticking around to be your damn nanny. If you can’t handle it, then maybe you shoulda kept your damn legs shut.”

The reaction was instantaneous, Tai immediately on his feet, both taken aback and furious, “Qrow, what the hell?! I brought it up because I figured you’d want to be involved in your niece or nephew’s life! Not-” He threw his hands up. “Whatever the hell you’re implying.”

He knew he was way out of line, but any guilt he had was being held down by a vitriolic sludge of grief and regret that had been leaking, unchecked, out of his broken heart the day he learned Tai and Raven had bonded. An ache that had chipped away at his stability until there was nothing left but a hurricane of outrage and wrath inside him. Thing about hurricanes was, when they blew in, their only purpose was to destroy everything in their path.

That’s how Qrow felt now as he stalked towards the omega, venom spitting out of his throat, “Oh cut the virtuous bullshit already. I was in the hospital for two days. Sure didn’t bother to visit me then. But now that you need something, you come knocking?”

“I came here because I was worried about you!” Tai’s voice rose. “Raven didn’t tell me-”

“Oh-ho-ho there it is. Raven didn’t tell you. Far be it for you to check in on your own best friend once and awhile, huh?” He spat. “Or maybe I’m just the idiot here. Are we even friends anymore?”

This close, he could smell the souring in the other’s scent, his distress palpable. “Of course we are. The only one not acting like one right now is you. Look, I’m sorry about what happened and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. And I get that your mad but you don’t get to take it out on me, alright?”

“You don’t get it! That’s not what this is about!”

“Then what is it about?!”

Qrow opened and shut his mouth nothing coming out. A coward, even when he’d already lost his chance. He spun away with a snarl so Tai couldn’t see the well of emotion in his eyes, storming to the other the side of the room and kicking his desk hard enough the back of it hit the wall. “Fuck!”

He was so tired of this. Of being unhappy and angry all the time. Of having any and every little thing set him off because it seemed like everything nowadays just made him irritated or sad. When was the last time he’d gone out just for fun? When was the last time he’d laughed?

Qrow buried his head in his hands, disgusted with himself over how close he was to tears. “I hate this.”

“Qrow…”

He heard footfalls behind him, then Tai’s scent was all around him. It was a natural omega response, the cloying sweetness surrounding the air meant to comfort and soothe when emotions were running too high, much like a purr.

It only made him feel worse.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here for you, okay?” Tai’s hand rested onto his shoulder. “Just tell me what I can do to help.”

Qrow couldn’t take this anymore. “You want to help? Then get out.”

“But-”

He knocked the other’s hand away and whirled, his tone shifting into a growl as he pushed his own alpha influence outwards, “I said Leave!”

It was almost disturbing, seeing the way the omega stumbled back, eyes wide, a bit of a tremor in his knees. Usually, the reaction wasn’t so extreme, especially when they were already in the middle of a fight, but he’d never growled at Tai before. Around him, sure – especially if he and Raven were having one of their sibling moments, then the dominance display tended to be a given.

But never at him. It was like he’d broken some sort of unspoken rule.

Try as he might, Tai’s voice shook when he spoke, clearly rattled, “Is that really what you want?”

Some of the guilt finally started to puncture through but it was too little, too late.

“Yes. I can’t deal with this right now.” He looked away. “Just, go. Please.”

A tense, silent few moments passed. Then finally, resigned, Tai said, “Alright then.”

Yet as he headed for the door, he hesitated in the threshold. Stopped to look back, hoping to convey something more than just words.

Years later, Qrow still regretted never meeting his eyes.

“Just, remember I’m here when you need me Qrow. Call when you’re ready, okay?”

He never did.

~

They were sitting at the table, mugs in either hand. It felt like a mirror image of that very first day six months ago, except this time it was Qrow who couldn’t look up.

“That’s why you were so distant back then.” Tai finally said, an undercurrent of something in his voice that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Qrow swallowed hard. “Yeah.” His fingers clutched his cup harder. “I know I should have said this back then but… I’m so sorry.”

“Oh Qrow. I forgave you a long time ago.”

He head jerked up, mouth agape. “What?”

Tai’s smile was gentle. “I knew something was going on with you. You’d been weird ever since we graduated. And when I found out you were moving away, I figured it was because you’d been feeling lost. I was so frustrated because I didn’t know how to help you.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. Now Qrow could see what he hadn’t before: regret. “I just never put the pieces together that I was the problem.”

“You weren’t-! I mean…” He grimaced. It was time to stop lying. “Yeah. Being around you was killing me. I needed to get away, from everything. It wasn’t until I was entirely alone, I started to get my head back together. Took even longer to admit to myself that it was my fault things fell apart because I was too busy wallowing in self-pity to see anyone else. By that point, it had been so long, I didn’t feel like I could go back.” He sighed. “I’m a real moron. If I had just been honest with you, maybe things wouldn’t have ended the way they had. No matter what though, it doesn’t excuse the things I said.”

“Oh yeah, you were a total dick.” His friend laughed. “But take it from a guy who’s had his heart broken twice now: sometimes when you’re hurting that much, you’ll often be left with the ugliest side of yourself.”

Qrow arched a brow. “Oh yeah? What’s ugly Tai look like?”

“I think the way my dad put it was ‘robotic’.” Tai rubbed at a sharpie mark on the table as if he was trying to erase the black marks on his own life. “If it wasn’t sorrow or anger, then I didn’t really feel anything at all. It was all just numb to me and it made everything else feel like a chore. Even the littlest things, like showering or eating, were just too much. Some days, I even struggled to get out of bed. Heh.” His shoulders slumped. “It was pathetic.”

He supposed there was something to be said about being the person watching the show instead of being the one playing the part. “Hey, if I’m allowed to skip off to an entirely different continent, then you can stay in bed for a few extra hours.”

“Okay, you got me there.” He conceded. “Still, I can’t imagine how long I would have been stuck like that if it weren’t for my girls giving me the strength to move forward.”

“Well I’m glad you have them.” Qrow said, and for the first time, he knew he was saying it with full sincerity. A sense of calm had fallen over him, one he’d never felt before.

After his rut had happened a few weeks ago, he’d thought things would have grown awkward between them. Unbearable, even, now that the truth was out in the open.

As always, Tai surprised him as Qrow had started to stumble over himself to make amends.

(“I don’t even know where to start. There’s a lot you probably want to know.”

“There is. But that doesn’t mean you have to tell me.”

“W-What? But you said…”

“I was wrong. Especially when I… accidentally forced that confession out of you.”

“…”

“Look, just because these are your feelings for me, doesn’t suddenly mean I have ownership of them. Whatever you want to tell me, you do it in your own time. And if you never want to speak of this again, then we won’t.”

“Then, we’re… okay?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”)

True to his word, Tai never pushed after that day. Qrow waited for the tension to grow, for something to give. But it never did – and he started to think maybe those over-dramatics only happened in sitcoms and romantic dramas.

Whatever it was, the blissful return to normalcy gave Qrow the breathing space he needed to come to terms with his secret being out. Eventually, the stories came next. Not everything, of course. Some things were just too locked into his heart to give away. Still, the more he did share, the better he felt. No longer did he have to hold in his feelings, never giving them a chance to resolve and leaving turmoil in his heart. Now, he could finally look forward without a ‘what if’ hanging over him.

Maybe he’d never have the life he always dreamed about with Tai. No house with a gaggle of pups running around the yard. No coming home to the omega’s smile being his and his only. But at least he’d always have this. A friendship that had lasted through the ages and against the odds. That had weathered the worst storms and built up stronger after they’d passed. That’s foundation remained strong with the support and care they both gave to one another.

He’d always love Tai. On that, he had little doubt. But it was these past few months that really taught him what it meant to truly love someone. It wasn’t a trade-off. To give something so precious with only the expectation of an exchange for the same in return cheapened the value.

Love was a gift. An offering freely handed over with no intent beyond the desire to see the happiness it provided.

After bearing witness to one of Tai’s lowest points, he’d discovered just how integral that latter part was. He would move mountains and rearrange the stars if it meant bringing that smile back onto Tai’s face.

Even if those mountains being moved were just pictures on a phone and the stars were being moved by a needle-tipped pen that spread an aurora of color over the dark sky.

Qrow finished his tea, getting to his feet. “Alright, story time’s over. Let’s get the last one finished up.”

~

The buzzing that had permeated the space between them for months on end stopped for the final time.

Qrow set the needle aside, giving the tattoo its finally look over. Made sure every line was in place, every color perfect, every shade drawn.

It was with a heavy heart he realized there was nothing left to do, nothing left to add, nothing left to say except, “It’s done.”

“Really?” Tai turned his head, still trying to mimic an owl after all this time.

“Yep.” He snapped a shot with his scroll. “Take a look.”

The device was handed over, Tai sitting up as he gave it a critical scan. “It’s perfect.” He decided, but his smile was weak.

“You don’t look happy about it.”

“It’s not that. It really is everything I wanted.” He assured, stronger than before. He thumbed at the edge of the scroll, shoulders falling some. “I’m just sad. I’m going to miss this.”

Qrow rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the anchor in his own chest. Before things could get too gloom and doom though, he insisted, “Well hey, don’t go sobbing into my pillow yet until you see what I brought for a celebration.”

“Qrow you know you shouldn’t be buying frivolous things-” Tai cut himself off as Qrow whipped open the nightstand drawer, pulling out two perfectly round, prepackaged cupcakes. “Except those.”

He laughed, tossing Tai one and sliding from the recliner onto the bed beside him. It felt just like old times, tearing into the plastic and taking that first, overly sugary bite of chocolate and frosting. It reminded him of grand adventures on the playground and binge fests during movie marathons and sleepovers.

Qrow chanced a glance over. “So, Friday’s the day?”

“Yeah.” He replied, nibbling a ring around the cupcake like the weirdo he was, saving the vanilla crème filling for last. “I’m… pretty nervous.”

He pressed his shoulder against Tai’s. “Hey. It’s fine. You’re gonna be fine. And just think, once you pass those bastards final eval, you’re going to be getting your kids back.”

That brought his smile back in full. “Yeah. You’re right. Besides,” He nudged him back, “You’ll finally get to meet them.”

Qrow’s lungs shriveled up in his chest, leaving only enough air for a quiet, “Guess so.”

“I know the girls are just gonna love you.”

“Maybe.” He cleared his throat, snapping, “And will you finish eating already? You’re getting crumbs all over my bed!”

“Sorry!”

They finished up their treats – but any sweetness left in Qrow’s was gone.

~

It was rather remarkable, how much two men could stall against the inevitable. It was pushing nearly one in the morning by the time they were shuffling towards the door, both of them trying to hide yawns.

“Maybe I should just stay over again?” Tai suggested.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “And have you trigger another rut? No thanks.”

“Oh, it’s my fault. I see how it is.” All things considered it probably had been. Between the unintentional courting with homemade dinners and the two of them sharing the bed, it really was just a recipe for disaster.

Still, it was nice to joke about it. “Glad to see you’re taking responsibility. More seriously though, no need to risk things when you’re so close to the finish line.”

“Yeah. Guess you’re right.” He mimed a phone to his ear. “I’ll keep you in the loop. And hey, when me and the girls head back to Patch, maybe you can come with us. Start working out of there for a while.”

There it was. The conversation he’d been trying to avoid all night. He shifted on his feet, trying to remain ambivalent, “I mean, maybe. I still have a lot of clients here I’m finishing up with.”

But Tai hadn’t been his best friend for two decades not to see through his bullshit. Most of it, at least. “Qrow. Don’t you dare.”

“I-”

Before he could even try, Tai was clutching onto his forearms, tone frantic, “You were gonna disappear, just like before, weren’t you?”

“That’s not exac-”

Just as quickly, he was hopping back, holding up his hands placatingly. “Wait, it’s me again, right? Whatever it is, we can talk it out. Right now, if you want.”

“Tai-”

“I know that’s not really fair, but, look. I’ll do whatever you want in return for it. Just please. Don’t do this to me again. I can’t lose you too.”

Qrow watched as Tai struggled and lost the fight against tears, a prevalent reek of fear becoming known. It only occurred to him right then that after so many losses, maybe his friend was starting to develop a serious issue with separation anxiety. He ran a hand over his face, grumbling, “I’m such an ass.” Before walking forward and catching the other in a tight hug.

Those powerful arms hugged back so hard, it nearly broke his sternum. “I-I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry.” He buried his fingers into blond hair. “I should have talked to you about this before.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, pulling back enough to look up at him. He reached around, thumbing away some tears. “I’m not trying to run off again, I swear. But this isn’t exactly a ‘day until I retire’ job. It’s a ‘only a matter of time’ one. If I stay close to home, then you’d probably be tagged as an accomplice.” He met his gaze, resigned and resolute. “I’m not going to put you through losing your children a second time.”

Somehow, that only seemed to make Tai cry more. “Why are you so fair to everyone but yourself?”

“Heh. Guess the privileged lifestyle never suited well.” He joked weakly. “Look, I ain’t dropping off the face of the planet. I’ll keep in touch, promise. And visit, when I can. So can you cut it with the waterworks? You know I’m awful with ‘em.”

Tai sniffed, stepping back so he could dab at his eyes with his sleeve. “Only ‘cause you don’t want to cry too.”

“Semantics.” Qrow waved off.

“And you better keep that promise, or I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll but I’ll do it!”

He crossed an X over his heart. “I will. Even if they threaten to scratch out my eyes.”

“Good.” Tai nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I… guess I better get going.”

“Probably want some sleep to handle that tromp of monsters tomorrow.”

The omega gave him a light jab. “Rude. I’ll talk to you soon, eh?”

“You’ve got my number.” Qrow replied, as the other opened the door, only to hesitate. His fingers started to nervously tap along the doorknob’s surface. “Tai?”

“Qrow I-” He spun around, another sharp spike to his scent. “I want you to know that I… I…”

Qrow breathed in a bit, confused as he recognized the hint of anxiety. Was he still that worried? “Youuu?” He urged gently.

The tapping increased, as did the scent. Then Tai shook his head, smiling brightly, “Just that I’m… really proud of you.”

“E-Eh?” Okay, now he was really lost.

“What you’re doing, you have no idea the impact you’re having. It’s changing lives.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “It certainly changed mine.”

Qrow felt his face flame up, flustered as he tried to duck his head. “Dude, I can’t do this at one in the morning.”

“You need me to tell you again at noon?”

“No!”

Tai burst into chuckles. “I just wanted you to know that.” The hand squeezed gently. “And how glad I am you’re part of my life.”

“Okay, okay. I get the point.” He pat his wrist placatingly. “I love you too, now please stop trying to cause an aneurysm.”

That caused another puzzling spike, Tai’s second laugh more jittery. “Ah what’s the fun in that?” Nevertheless, he did pull back, stepping out. “I’ll see you ‘round.” With a final wave, he started off down the hall.

“See ya.” He called after.

As Qrow shut the door, he couldn’t shake the lingering sense that he had missed something.

[cheemers-writing-archive]

Crusader of Life 2: Chapter 20

As Kira walked to his new home, his mind was racing. The image of a girl who ridiculed him at the train station was stuck in his head. Kira wanted to show this girl the real him, even at the cost of being discovered. Just as he was about to turn around and follow that girl back, though, someone tapped him on the arm. As he turned around, he was met with a young girl, probably still in high school, with a paper in her hand.

“Excuse me,” she said. “My name is Emiko, and my class is doing a research project where we have to survey people for it. Would you mind helping me out?”

Kira thought about it. It wouldn’t be wise to give information about himself to anyone, even if they were innocently collecting data for a project. But what if Emiko knew Kosaku, and she knew that he would be up for a short interview? In the end, Kira decided to go ahead and let the girl ask him questions.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Great!” Emiko chimed. “So, to start off, what’s your name?”

So, this girl didn’t know Kosaku after all, Kira said to himself. “Kosaku Kawajiri.”

“Age?”

“Thirty.”

“Are you married?”

“Yes.”

“Any kids?”

“One.”

“Okay, now on to some other questions,” Emiko muttered. “Did you know a man by the name of Yoshikage Kira? He went missing a few days ago.”

Kira felt a chill down his spine. “No, I don’t know anyone of that name.” To his relief, Emiko shrugged and started to leave.

“Ah, well, thank you for your time… Kira.”

The gasp. The gasp confirmed it for Emiko. She had said that line to many others, only for them to ask why she would call them by the missing man’s name. She really had no clue if this was Kira, until he gasped as if she had figured him out. Rohan’s intuition about this man was right.

“I hope you’re not thinking that you’ll be able to relay this information to anyone before you’ve been disposed of,” Kira said. “Killer Queen has already touched your shirt.”

However, when Kira looked again, Emiko seemed like she had disappeared. No time to waste, he thought to himself. I can deal with her exploding in a large crowd easier than I can deal with her telling anyone about who I am.

“I’ve figured out who it is!” Emiko screamed. She teleported to Rohan’s house with sweat down her face. “Yoshikage Kira’s new identity is Ka-”

Before Emiko finished, cracks formed all across her body, emitting light. In an instant, she exploded right in front of Rohan’s eyes, leaving behind nothing to prove she even existed, other than the memories others had with her. Even the paper she held was completely gone.

Rohan dipped his head down and gritted his teeth. “At least she didn’t die in vain,” he said to himself. “I’ll tell Jotaro we have a small scrap of more information.”

***

“Daddy, look!” Emily squealed. “I made a tower without Sunshine!”

“You did?” Kakyoin looked back. Sure enough, the tower of blocks wasn't too high for Emily’s hands to reach, like it usually was. “Great job, Emily!” He ruffled the little girl’s hair and sat down to give her a hug. However, the moment he outstretched his arms, the telephone rang. Kakyoin sighed, then summoned Hierophant to give Emily a hug while he went to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

We have more information on Kira, said Jotaro’s voice.

Kakyoin sat down in the nearest chair. “Go on.”

He took another life, but this time we have more information. We know his new family name starts with Ka. And, luckily for us, our prime suspect’s family name is Kawajiri. His full name is Kosaku Kawajiri.

“Kosaku Kawajiri,” Kakyoin mumbled the name.

We’re going to ask Kawajiri’s son, Hayato, a few questions tomorrow.

Kakyoin hummed in response. “I’ll be there, for sure. I’m not sure of what I’ll do with Emily, though.”

Josuke can come pick her up, probably, Jotaro replied.

“Got it,” Kakyoin said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The second he hung up, Emily lifted herself up to her father’s shoulders.

“I want a Daddy hug,” she giggled.

Kakyoin smiled as he pulled Emily around to his front. Tomorrow, this would end once and for all.

***

The next morning, Kakyoin woke up with his foot asleep as the alarm clock played a cheery tune on the radio. He woke up, chose some clothes for the day, then cracked open Emily’s door. Kakyoin checked the time on the clock in her room. It was 8:10 and 15 seconds when he nudged the girl awake.

“Good morning, Daddy,” Emily yawned.

“Morning, girlie,” Kakyoin smiled.

As Kakyoin helped Emily pull her shirt over her head, she kept rambling about a dream she had. “And then I turned into a superhero and I stopped the evil bees from drinking all of the milk!”

“Sounds like you had an exciting night,” Kakyoin chuckled. Once he was done getting her dressed, they both set out to where Jotaro told them to meet. After only two blocks, Emily complained that she was tired, so Kakyoin lifted her up on his shoulders. When they finally arrived, Kakyoin noticed Rohan’s car completely open, yet no sign of the man in sight. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Emily, can you lift me up, please?” he asked. “I need to see more of the area.”

Emily nodded, then summoned Walking on Sunshine and sent Kakyoin in the air as far as she could.

Now Kakyoin was concerned. He saw Jotaro and Koichi making their way down, but no Rohan. “Thank you, Emily,” he called out. “Can you let me down now?” In an instant, gravity took over Kakyoin’s body as he landed feet first on the ground.

As Emily floated back up to her father’s shoulders, a young boy walked down the sidewalk. He stared straight down with his eyes wide.

“Kira…” he muttered to himself. “So that’s his name.”

Although Kakyoin didn’t hear the boy say anything, Emily did. “Ki… ra?”

“What was that, Emily?” Kakyoin asked.

“Kira!” Emily repeated. “Daddy, he said Kira!”

Sweat started pouring down the boy’s face. “I-I-I didn’t say Ki-Kira,” he said as calmly as possible. “I don’t know a-anybody with that n-name.”

“Ah, sorry to bother you with my girl here,” Kakyoin chuckled. “I might have been repeating that name a little too much, so she thinks everyone says it.”

The boy let out a sigh of relief, but instantly let it back in when he heard Emily scream.

“Daddy, there’s something in my eye!” She was swatting at the air, crying.

“Don’t worry, girlie,” Kakyoin smiled. He lifted Emily down from his shoulders, but by the time he did, canyons of light were already carving into her face as it split apart.

“Daddy!” Emily screamed, and she exploded in Kakyoin’s arms, leaving him screaming in both pain and anguish, before he jolted up in his bed.

Was… was that just a dream? No, it seemed all too real, down to the pain from his arms being blasted off. Kakyoin threw his covers off as he leaped out of bed, but he slammed down on the floor face-first. His foot was asleep, and so he lost footing. When his radio turned on, it played the same cheery tune it played in his dream. After some careful wobbling to Emily’s bedroom door, he flung it open.

There she was, little Emily, curled up in her bed, sleeping soundly. Kakyoin sighed, and crumpled to the floor as the fear that overtook his body subsided.

“Good morning, Daddy,” Emily yawned. She woke up at 8:10, with fifteen seconds on the clock. “I had a funny dream last night.”

Now, Kakyoin was getting a little nervous. “What was the dream?”

“A bunch of bad bees wanted to drink all of the milk in our fridge,” Emily started. Kakyoin didn’t listen to the rest, as it was the same as his dream.

Was it a dream? he asked himself. There’s no way that all of these weird coincidences are just that. Could it be that I saw the future?

Does this mean that I lose Emily?

Kakyoin shook those thoughts out of his mind. Right now, Emily was safe and sound, and the two were about to leave to meet up with everyone else.

“Daddy, my legs are tired,” Emily whined. They were two blocks away from the hotel. Now Kakyoin’s heart was thumping. When he got to the meeting place, there was, once again, Rohan’s car, but no Rohan.

No, no, Emily’s going to be fine, Kakyoin told himself. She has to be.

Without warning, he started to float in the air. Looking down at Emily, he saw that she wasn’t even paying attention to him. Walking on Sunshine wasn’t even summoned. And just as quickly as he was let up, he dropped back down to the floor.

“Oopsie,” Emily giggled. “Sorry.” She used Sunshine to climb back on to her father’s shoulders, just like in the dream.

The boy should be arriving now, right? Kakyoin asked himself. He seemed to have triggered something when she repeated Kira’s name from him.

Kakyoin waited, but at the time the boy should have arrived, he didn’t. Kakyoin sighed with relief, but regretted it when he heard the shrill shrieks of his daughter.

“Daddy, there’s something in my eye!” Emily screamed. The exact same words she said before she exploded in Kakyoin’s dream.

“Don’t worry, Emily,” Kakyoin said with sharpened breaths. However, when he lifted the girl off of his shoulders, the exact same cracks of light were formed in her face. She even screamed in the exact same way before blowing up, leaving Kakyoin with the exact same explosion wounds. In fact, the only difference this time was that the day kept going.

Kakyoin was too shocked to say a word. He sat with his head turning, trying to process everything. Emily, the last member of his family, and his only daughter, was dead, plus his damaged nerves had yet to fully take in the pain from the explosion. And yet, even with both the pain in his arms and the pain in his heart, his mind was more focused on the premonition he had in his dream.

“No, premonitions are more vague than that, right?” he asked himself. “I don’t know, I’ve never had one, but it feels like that actually happened, like it wasn’t just a dream. Maybe the day actually repeated. Could I be-”

“Stuck in a time loop?” the boy from the past loop finished.

Kakyoin gasped, and turned his head to the boy. It looked like he remembered the morning repeating, as well.

“Don’t ask me anything about him!” he exclaimed. “You’ll suffer the same fate as your daughter.”

Kakyoin nodded. “Got it. Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you’re Hayato, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Hayato nodded. “You did hear his name in the last time loop, right? Not from me, but from the girl.”

“I heard it loud and clear,” Kakyoin said, “but I know not to repeat it.” He winced a little bit and tightened his teeth as a wave of pain flowed through what was left of his arms.

“Oh, do you need to go to the hospital?” Hayato asked. “I have some coins if you-”

“No, that’s okay,” Kakyoin heaved. “I have a friend who can heal me coming here soon.”

“But… how do you remember… you know?” Hayato wondered. “I don’t know how many clue words really count, so I have to stay really vague.”

“Got it,” Kakyoin nodded. “I think it has to do with my soul’s energy hanging on to someone important to me. The same thing happened with Reimi, the ghost in the alley, and… another ghost who’s important to a certain guy.”

Hayato nodded in understanding.

“Mr. Kakyoin!” Koichi’s voice called out. Kakyoin turned to see the boy and Jotaro walking by.

“Who’s that?” Jotaro asked.

“It’s Hayato, but don’t go asking any questions about his father,” Kakyoin answered. “One mention of Kosaku being Kira and we’ll all be blown up.”

Jotaro and Koichi both gasped.

“But…” Koichi started, “why did you say something?”

“It only works when he says it,” Kakyoin replied. “I could tell you everything if I wanted to.”

“And why are you not?” Jotaro raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I thought we should wait for Josuke and Okuyasu to get here.”

“But what about Rohan?” Koichi added.

“Well…” Kakyoin looked down at Hayato, who nodded his head with guilty eyes, then looked back up and sighed. “I didn’t see it myself, but I assume Rohan is dead.”

“Rohan is dead?” Josuke exclaimed. He and Okuyasu had just turned the corner.

It was then that Kakyoin explained what happened. He described the new ability in detail, as well as how he figured out about it.

“So, both Hayato and I are trapped in a time loop,” Kakyoin finished. Everyone stood in silence for a little bit, until Jotaro spoke again.

“You seem really calm for someone who just lost their child.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t lost her yet,” Kakyoin replied. “If I ask just one question to Hayato about Kosaku, then this morning will repeat, and Emily will be back again. Of course, I should probably tell him that we need Kira dead to break the loop, but that I’ll help him.”

Hayato froze. “No, no please not another one of these,” he shuddered. “I can’t… I can’t do it!”

“Someone needs to let Hayato know that although I can’t talk to him directly, I believe he has the ability to break the loop. There’s only one question I need answered to get there in time. I need him to tell me the last time he saw his father this morning, and where.”

Hayato gulped, then closed his eyes with tears going down his face. “My father will arrive at eight twenty five to watch Rohan die with me!” he sobbed. “Please come at that time to help catch him!”

The boy didn’t need to open his eyes, because he could hear the sounds of explosions happening all around him. However, before he looped back to the morning, he heard one voice call out.

“I’ll make sure to help you kill Kira.”

As he dissolved into dust, Kakyoin jerked awake in his bed once again. His leg was asleep, as usual, but he was filled with a new fire. The minute he felt his leg tingling with feeling again, he threw his covers off and very messily got himself ready. It didn’t matter how neat he looked if Emily was lost forever.

Instead of the time fate was to wake Emily up, Kakyoin was able to wake her up at 8:04. He heard the dream story about the bees for the third time as he got his daughter dressed in something different than what he chose the last two time loops, simply out of spite. They were both out the door with plenty of time to spare, and Kakyoin started with Emily on his shoulders, both for time convenience and to prove to himself that he wasn’t bound to fate.

“Daddy, why are we going so fast?” Emily asked.

“I have something important to do,” he replied through huffs. “Could you float a little so I can go faster, please?”

“Okay,” Emily said.

Meanwhile, just around the corner, Kira was hiding behind a tree, watching Hayato bend down and reach inside of his backpack. The little brat had a fierce determination in his stride out the door, and Kira didn’t want him getting away with anything. However, the longer he stood behind that tree, the more desperate Hayato’s eyes were becoming.

No, he said he’d be here, right? Hayato thought to himself. Did this last time loop make him forget everything?

Just as Kira was going to step out behind the tree, seeing the defeat painted on the boy’s face, he suddenly stopped breathing. Sure, his stomach was moving in and out, but the old air wasn’t escaping, and new air wasn’t entering.

“I’m glad I got here before Rohan was killed,” Kakyoin said. He appeared from the corner, and Kira finally took notice of the green strings encasing his mouth and nose. “Now, you have two options: you can die of suffocation, and all effects of your time loop bomb will cease to exist, or you can undo the bomb placed on Hayato and fight me.”

“Mr. Kakyoin!” Hayato said. He let out a heavy sigh, but before he could smile, he asked, “Where’s Emily?”

“She’s with Rohan, right around the corner,” Kakyoin answered. “I asked him to do some babysitting while I took care of some things.”

Kira was slowly blacking out. He thought that if he could hold on just a little bit longer, someone would have blown up, but he was about to reach his limit. With a raging heart, he removed Bites the Dust from Hayato and chopped the strings on Hierophant. A loud yelp escaped Kakyoin’s mouth, and Hayato gasped.

“Don’t worry,” Kakyoin grinned through clenched teeth. “I only had to sacrifice my pinky fingers for that. It hurts, but I can still fight.”

This might be the worst possible situation for me, Kira thought to himself. My Killer Queen isn’t well matched against Kakyoin’s Hierophant Green. Running isn’t an option, either, because then Kakyoin and Hayato could get reinforcements.

While Kira was accessing the situation, Kakyoin had readied Hierophant for an Emerald Splash. Before the gems could hit Kira, however, he blocked them with Killer Queen, but the impact still made him stagger backward and fall. The moment the attack ended, Kakyoin grabbed Hayato’s hand and sprinted the other direction, wincing a bit at the slight movement of his pinky. When he turned the corner, Jotaro and Koichi were waiting with Rohan and Emily.

“Run!” he told everyone. “We need to get out of here to plan!” Hierophant picked up Emily and placed her on her father’s shoulders as everyone else followed suit.

“Wait, Mr. Kakyoin, listen to me!” Hayato begged. “There was something in my backpack that would help him!”

“There’s no time to get it back,” Kakyoin replied. “Kira probably has it now, anyway.”

“How are we going to tell Josuke and Okuyasu where to meet now?” Jotaro asked.

“We can’t,” Kakyoin said. “For all we know, they could have already run into Kira. We’ll just have to fight without them.”

After everyone was completely out of breath, they all huddled into the largest shop they could find, then went to the very back. Kakyoin let Emily down from his shoulders.

“Okay,” Kakyoin heaved. “Hayato, tell us about the thing in your backpack.”

“It…” Hayato started, “it’s hard to understand what exactly it is. It’s a plant, but also a cat, I think. It’s only conscious when sunlight is hitting it, and it makes air bubbles, but it can control the air bubbles. These bubbles have the power to kill, and I know this because I was almost killed by it. I brought it because if Mr. Kakyoin wasn’t going to show up, then I was going to try to kill him.”

When Hayato was done explaining, everyone hummed in acknowledgement.

“We should assume Kira can turn these air bubbles into bombs,” Jotaro said.

“Wait, Mr. Kakyoin, what happened to your fingers?” Koichi asked.

“It was a small price to pay to gain the upper hand,” he smiled. “It sure hurts, though. Enough about me, what about Kira?”

“We’ll want to know where he is before we attack,” Rohan added. “Wandering around aimlessly means he could find us before we find him.”

“Hierophant can take care of that,” Kakyoin said.

“We have to stay away from those air bubble bombs,” Hayato continued. “But how?”

“I can stop time for up to five seconds,” Jotaro replied. “If we stick close together, I can pull us all out of the way just as Kira sets the bomb off. I can also be the one to land the final hit, but in order to do that, I’ll need some help. Koichi, if you use Act 3 on Kira, especially if you make that cat plant unusable, I can get close enough without worrying about the bombs.”

“What about me?” Emily asked.

“Rohan will look after you,” Kakyoin smiled.

“Me?” Rohan glared over.

“We need somebody to stay with her,” Kakyoin replied. “Can’t you write in that she can’t harm you, anyway? That means she can’t pull any mischief with Sunshine on you.”

Rohan sighed. “Fine. I’ll look after the Hayato brat, too, since I’ve been appointed the babysitter.”

“Okay, now that we know what we’re going to do, I’ll search for Kira,” Kakyoin said. He called out his Stand, then sent it down into the floor. As Hierophant searched the city, everyone else stood around, waiting.

“I hope Josuke and Okuyasu are okay,” Koichi said, breaking the silence.

“If I know anything about Josuke, it’s that he can survive anything, so long as you make fun of that boot on top of his head,” Rohan muttered. Hayato suppressed a laugh.

“Ro… Rohan,” Emily quietly said.

“What is it?”

“My feet are tired.”

“Emily, you ask nicely, remember?” Kakyoin added.

“Oh, sorry,” Emily murmured. “Can you carry me, please?”

Rohan looked at the girl for a couple of seconds, then rolled his eyes. “Sure. Come on.”

“Thank you!” Emily chimed. As Rohan picked her up, he silently had her look at Heaven’s Door. Her form went limp as her face opened up into a book.

“Hey!” Koichi exclaimed.

“What?” Rohan replied. “Kakyoin said that I could make Emily unable to hurt me. That’s all I’m doing.”

“If you write anything else in, I’m not afraid to make a scene,” Jotaro threatened.

“I found him!” Kakyoin said, a little too loud for a crowded area. Everyone looked back at him. “He’s in the same place where he was before we starting running, with Josuke and Okuyasu! Okuyasu is fainted right now, but Josuke’s still in the-”

Kakyoin’s face instantly went grim. Everyone else gulped.

“What happened?” Jotaro asked.

“Okuyasu…” Kakyoin shuddered, “Okuyasu just died.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Lost Souls, Kindred Spirits Chapter 6

Bucky x Reader

Chapter 6

The gunshot hit the DJ booth, causing the old man to fall back and the music to cut off. Screams rang out as everyone scattered. The men in black continued to fire aimlessly into the crowd, not caring who they hit or who they killed. Bucky immediately ran towards the stage to get to you, but you already dove off the stage to take cover. He frantically searched through the crowd and hoped that you didn’t get hit.

Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok. Bucky chanted to himself. His heart pounded in his chest as he weaved through the crowd as fast as he could to get to you.

Right as the sound of gunshots rang out, you immediately dived off the stage. You knew being up on the stage made you a prime target, so you moved as fast as you could. You landed among the crowd and tried to make you way out, staying ducked behind the lounge chairs and the tables for cover. It was a packed house that night, and all the bodies colliding with each other in a scramble to avoid getting shot made it difficult to move through the room.

You didn’t get very far, though. Every time you tried to move towards the door, someone would knock you back in their panic. You ducked down between a lounge chair and the side of the stage, electing to try to stay hidden until you had a window to get out. Fear overtook you and you shook in your hiding spot. There had been incidents at the club before, but nothing on this scale. You tried to steady yourself and tried to keep yourself as still as possible to stay out of sight.

It didn’t work, though.

“Hold it right there,” a venomous voice shouted behind you.

You froze.

A man dressed in all black stood a few feet away from you and held a gun pointed right at you. “On your feet,” he ordered.

You raised your hands and slowly stood up to your feet, unsure of what else to do. You clenched your jaw in an attempt to stay still, scared that if this man saw you shaking too much he wouldn’t hesitate to fire his gun.

He smiled wickedly at you as he took a step towards you. You remained completely still. You drew a total blank of what to do and just hoped that you would make it through this. In your mind, there was only one person that you hoped was here by your side.

“NO!” a familiar voice shouted over the commotion.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked over the man’s shoulder. You knew that voice anywhere. The man holding the gun quickly spun around and did not hesitate to fire at Bucky. Bucky held up his metal hand to shield himself from the gunfire as he hustled over to him.

Once Bucky was within arm’s reach, he grabbed the gun from the assailant’s hand and punched him square in the face, knocking him out cold. Then, he swiftly rushed over to you and pulled you close to him. He turned both your bodies to use his metal arm as a shield again to cover you from incoming fire. He then returned fire quickly, hitting each man in one shot.

That explains a lot, you thought to yourself as Bucky held you close. You were in a state of shock that you simultaneously had a million thoughts in your head and also none at all. Between the chaos and the gunfire and Bucky reappearing after weeks, it was a lot for you to process.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky only pulled away enough to look at your face but still kept you in his arms.

You shook your head. Before you should get any words out, more gunshots rang through the air. Bucky was quick to react, and dove the both of you behind a table that was tipped on to its side. He kept one arm around you as the fired back with the other.

“Listen to me,” Bucky turned back to you after he shot the other man firing at you two, “You need to get out of here,” he was out of breath and you could hear the panic in his voice, “Is there a back exit or something?”

You looked up at him, “Bucky,” your voice was quiet and shaky.

“Is there a way out?” there was urgency in his voice.

You nodded, “The employee door, out the back.”

“Ok, I’ll cover you. Go out that way and stay hidden. I’ll find you once it’s safe.”

“Bucky,” you repeated in a whisper.

He snapped back at you with your name, “I promise I’ll explain everything later, but right now I need you to be safe,” he cradled your face with his hand. You could see the panic in his face and could tell that he was genuine.

You blinked in surprise a few times before you nodded. Now was not the right time, even though you had so many questions for him. At his signal, you dashed for the back of the stage as he covered you, shooting at everyone who tried to get near you or do you harm. You dashed quickly behind the curtain and out of sight of anyone in the room. Bucky waited to make sure that none of the armed men followed you before turning to deal with the rest of the room. Most of the crowd had cleared out, but there were still a few of the man with guns firing on any stragglers.

Backstage was completely empty. As much as you wanted to stop and catch your breath or go back to check on Bucky, you knew it was best to keep moving. The look on Bucky’s face stayed in your mind, how concerned he was for you and how he did not hesitate to protect you. The thought of him kept you going as you ran through the backstage area back to the dressing room. You stopped at your makeup station to grab your bag and coat from under the table before darting out the employee door.

You stayed in the shadow for a moment to make sure no one was waiting outside the door. You were alone, but it was pouring rain. The sound of the rain drowned out the sounds of screams, cries and gunshots from inside. It sent a shiver down your spine and you suddenly had a moment to think about what just happened. Were people you worked with ok? Did your friends make it out?

You swallowed hard as you tried not to let your emotions run wild yet. You had made it out of the club unhurt, but Bucky was still inside, so it wasn’t over for you yet. You clutched your jacket close to your body as you turned down the street in the rain. You weren’t sure where to go, but as long as you stayed out of the light, you figured you would be ok.

You were wrong.

Suddenly, a big male figure swopped behind you. Before you could react, he had one strong arm around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, and one arm around your chest to hold a knife to your throat. You gasped and tried to struggle, but he held you too tightly. So tight that it was almost painful.

“Where do you think you’re going, gorgeous?” the man spoke right into your ear.

“No,” was all you could breathe out. His words chilled you to your core.

“You didn’t think you’d get away that easily,” he said with a dark laugh, “You’re the one we wanted anyway.”

Why me? What do they want with me? Your thoughts raced. You tried to struggle again but he only tightened his grip on you and let the knife dig in your throat a little bit.

“Let her go!” a voice yelled.

You looked up to find Bucky standing in front of you and your captor, his gun aimed forward and ready to fire.

The man only burst into laughter, “Oh my God! Oh my God it’s true! The Winter Soldier found himself a little whore!”

Bucky did not acknowledge his comment, “Let. Her. Go.” He repeated.

“Now why would I let our bargaining chip go?” he leaned his face into your hair, “I gotta say though, you picked yourself a pretty one.”

Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to turn your head away from with without digging into the knife anymore. Your breath became shakier as you couldn’t hold your fear back anymore.

Bucky grunted as he clicked the gun, reading it to fire. “Stop that!”

“What are you gonna go? Shoot me?” the man retorted, “You’ll have to shoot through her to get to me.” He smiled as he tried to call Bucky’s bluff.

You only whimpered, there was nothing else you could do at this point. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see what would happen next. You would have wanted more time with Bucky, to get to know him completely. But in your mind, you had already come to the conclusion that this was how it would end for you.

Bucky took a moment to calculate his next move. Instead of replying to him, he addressed you. “Doll,” his voice was softer, “Look at me, doll.”

You opened your eyes to look into his. Bucky still had his gun up, but his face was softer as looked at you. His expression changed from a hardened one to a more comforting one, as if he was trying to tell you it would all be ok. You took a deep breath.

“Just keep your eyes on me, ok?” he said to you, ignoring the continuing taunting of your captor. You swallowed hard and nodded slightly in response.

Your eyes never left his as he fired his gun.

Behind you, you heard an echo of another gunshot. Bucky noticed another man coming up behind you to back up your captor during his confrontation. He shot that man, who reflexively shot his gun, which hit your captor in the back. The man in the shadows fell right to the ground and your captor started to fall forward and released his grip on you in the process.

In no time, Bucky was right in front of you and pulled you from the man’s dying grip. You fell into his arms and let him hold you tightly. Even though Bucky’s grip was tight, it was comforting, and you finally felt safe. You sobbed into his chest as he continued to hold you as close as he could to him.

He whispered your name in your ear, “I’m so sorry. Doll, I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“Bucky,” your voice was weak. You wrapped your arms around his waist, afraid that if you let go he would disappear again. You two took the moment of quiet as you held each other in the rain, not even caring that you were getting soaked.

Before either of you could say anything else, the sound of police sirens rang through the air. Bucky looked up and immediately went back into full attention. “Come on, we gotta get out of here,” he kept you tucked under his arm as he led you away from the club before the police arrived.

***

You and Bucky checked into a hotel room once Bucky felt like you were far enough away. Luckily you grabbed your bag and had money from working earlier in the day to pay for it in cash. You even gave the front desk a little extra for discretion. The hotel room was nice, but nothing special. A dresser, tv, and queen size bed filled most of the space, with a bathroom on one side of the entrance hallway and an open closet on the other. As soon as you two entered the room, Bucky went to close the curtains and put the extra locks on the door and made sure the room was secure. You watched him from the doorway as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You both were soaking wet from the rain.

“You’re shivering,” Bucky said to you as he faced you again. He looked down at your neck and brushed his fingers over the cut made by the knife held to you. He frowned as his heart sank again. He was almost sure that would leave a scar, and that it was all his fault. A fresh pang of guilt hit him again. “Why don’t you take a hot shower?” he suggested.

You nodded and moved toward the bathroom. Before you closed the door, you heard Bucky behind you.

“Here,” he handed you one of the two robes from the closet.

“Thanks,” you replied softly before shutting yourself in the bathroom. Once you were in the shower, you finally let all your emotions explode. You cried your eyes out as the hot water ran down your body. It was therapeutic though, as if the water washed away all your sorrows. Bucky heard your sobs over the water and it tore him apart to hear you break down like that. He wanted nothing more than to go in and hold you, but he also wanted to give you some space.

You emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the robe to see Bucky still standing in the same spot, as if he was keeping watch. It looked as if his face told an entire story; you could see guilt, anger, sadness, and so many conflicting emotions on his face. He said nothing as he reached to touch the mark on your neck again.

“I’m ok,” you whispered. He still did not say anything, but you could read the ‘sorry’ in his eyes. You took a deep breath, “Why don’t you take a shower too, then we’ll talk? I’ll soak your shirt here in the sink.”

Bucky did as you said and went into the bathroom, handing you his shirt through the cracked door before shutting it. You busied yourself at the sink as you heard the shower running. Bucky was quick and opened the door with just a towel wrapped around his waist. You did a double take as you saw his chest and full metal arm for the first time. You tried not to let your gaze linger and looked down into the sink instead. Bucky was prepared for you to react to his scar and arm, so it didn’t phase him at all.

“There’s another robe in the closet over there,” you said quietly. You kept your head down as you heard Bucky move behind you. He grabbed a robe, wrapped it around his muscular body and went to sit at the edge of the bed. You followed him and sat to his left. You both sat in silence for a few moments before Bucky spoke up.

“I’m sorry. I knew getting close to you would only end badly, but I did anyway. This was all my fault,” Bucky kept his head down.

“Who were they anyway?” you asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Hydra.”

“Hydra? I thought they fell after all that happened in DC. It was all over the news. But what would they want with you?” you paused, “And why did that one guy call you the winter soldier?”

Bucky sighed, “I’ve owed you the whole story for a while now,” he looked you in the eye before continuing, “Back then, I didn’t just end up on ice or anything like that. Hydra found me, and they made me their weapon. I was like their puppet; I was in my body, but I had no control over what I did. And I did… horrible… things. And that’s what they called me… the winter soldier,” Bucky felt himself start to come apart as the guilt ate at him. He looked down, ashamed of himself. He couldn’t bare to look at you after his confession.

Everything made sense now, “That day in the graveyard, they were there weren’t they?” you asked. Bucky only nodded in response. You felt tears form in your eyes again as your heart broke for him, “Did they do this to you too?” you took his metal hand in yours.

“Yes,” he whispered as he closed his hand around yours.

You reached your free hand out to lightly touch the scar on his chest where flesh met metal, “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore,” he didn’t even flinch at your feather light touch nor did he pull away.

A few moments of silence passed before you spoke, “I’m so sorry,” your voice was soft and sympathetic.

“What?” Bucky snapped up to look at you again. He wasn’t sure what you would say, but he certainly did not expect that.

“I’m sorry for how much you’ve suffered, for everything you’ve gone though. And all alone too,” there was no hesitation in your voice, “You may think of yourself as a monster, Bucky, but you’ve been nothing but a hero to me. I mean, you did save my life multiple times,” you tried to smile through your tears. “I do wish you told me all this sooner,” you added, “But I understand why you didn’t. And I don’t blame you for what happened.”

Bucky fell silent. He had no idea what to say. All he could do was hold your hand tighter. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as your gazes lingered on each other. You looked at him so tenderly and lovingly, and he returned the same look. He thought to himself, What did I do to deserve you?

“Can I ask you one more thing?” you were the one to break the silence this time. Bucky swallowed hard and nodded. “Will you kiss me, Bucky Barnes?”

Notes: The next chapter is going to be smut. No plot, just smut lol

[idristardis]

CS Fic Formal: “I Found a Love”

A/N: At long lonnnnnng last, I can reveal that I am your CSFF Anon @branlovesouat !! I’m so very sorry that this gift is (literally) a month late, but between juggling two different jobs and my muse taking your prompts and deciding to write roughly thousands upon thousands of words, it...took a while to come together. I thank you infinitely for your patience - it has been wonderful getting to know you over this process - and I only hope that this fic lives up to your expectations and hopes!!

In addition to CS banter and sass, you asked for Ruby and Emma friendship and Belle and Killian friendship, romance that was paced at a “medium burn,” a story more driven by plot than atmosphere, and some way of incorporating Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.” I hope I delivered on all of those fronts to your liking dear!! The fic’s title is taken from that song, and there are a couple of other ways I wove it into the fic (including the vibe of the next to the last scene) without making it a song-fic, per se.

I also want to give a huge thank you to the @csficformal mods for hosting such a wonderful event and for putting up with me when I kept asking if I could push my deadline back a bit because there were just more words spilling out of my brain. You guys rock!!

Now, without further ado...here are approximately 22K words of modern royalty Lt. Duckling AU. Hope you all enjoy!!

P.S. Rating is low-to-mid T for some swearin’ and some kissin’. Also, I borrowed one line from 10 Things I Hate About You - see if you can spot it. :D :D

“You’ll never guess the news I just received, little brother.”

Killian sighed, automatically muttering younger under his breath before pushing his half-finished lunch to the side and tossing down the report he’d been skimming through while he ate. Looking up, he met Liam’s gaze expectantly. His brother stood next to Killian’s chosen table in the corner of the officer’s mess with a grin on his face that – given his usually serious demeanor – bordered on disturbingly giddy.

When Liam dropped into the seat across from him, practically vibrating with pent-up energy, and yet didn’t immediately speak, Killian sighed. “You’re literally going to make me guess, aren’t you?”

Liam nodded, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Absolutely.”

“Why?” Killian groaned.

“Because this news is amazing, and it’s more fun to have you guess. It draws out the suspense,” Liam replied, leaning over towards Killian’s abandoned lunch and snagging a French fry off his plate. “Besides, you’ll never get it right, and then I’ll get to tell you anyway. Best of both worlds, really.”

“That makes almost no sense,” Killian said exasperatedly, reaching out and pulling his plate back towards him before Liam could pilfer any more of his food.

“Ah, but there’s a vast difference between something almost not making sense and actually not making sense,” Liam said, leveling his gaze on Killian before continuing. “Besides, you’re just stalling while you try to think of whatever invariably incorrect answer you’re going to come up with. So,” he rapped his knuckles on the tabletop for emphasis, “guess.”

Killian stared at Liam in silence for a long moment. He really was at a loss for what the mysterious news could be, but he stubbornly didn’t want to admit as much to his brother. Finally, just as he was about to give in and hazard a ridiculous – and almost certainly incorrect – guess just to get Liam to move the whole process along, Killian’s eye landed on the discarded report he’d been reading when his brother had arrived. The neatly typed date in the corner of the document triggered a realization and he chuckled as a flash of insight raced through him.

Suddenly, he knew.

In fact, it was so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together immediately.

Sitting up straighter, Killian regarded Liam with a wide smile of his own. “Alright, let’s see it then,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly.

“What?” Liam said, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“The list of new appointments to the Cadre,” Killian replied easily. “That is what you came here to tell me about, isn’t it?”

Astonishment, irritation, and frustrated resignation flickered across Liam’s face in quick succession before he slumped back in his chair. “Y’know, you are bloody infuriating sometimes. How did you do that?!”

“Once I remembered what day it was, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out what had you so fired up,” Killian said with a smirk. “There are only a few things in life that can get you that excited.”

“Oi! Don’t act like you aren’t just as eager,” Liam retorted, digging in the pocket of his uniform coat and pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Killian. “You know as well as I do little brother that getting appointed to the Cadre can be career-making.”

Killian let the nickname slide this time, as he was too busy opening up the paper that could very well change his life. “Did you look yet?” he asked Liam, his eyes flicking upwards to meet his brother’s.

Liam nodded, his smile a bit sheepish. “Sorry, Kil. I just couldn’t wait. But why d’you think I was so damn eager to talk to you?”

Any response Killian was about to make died on his tongue as his eyes fell on the list of nine names marching in a tidy column down the left hand side of the paper. He’d only made it about halfway down when he spotted the names he’d been fervently hoping to see.

“Bloody hell.”

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

COMMANDING RESPECT: NINE ELITE OFFICERS SELECTED FOR APPOINTMENT TO CADRE 2018

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, APRIL 30, 2018 – Reports from the palace today have confirmed what was long-suspected to be true: Queen Mary-Margaret and King David, in consultation with the Prime Minister and the most trusted members of their Privy Council, have at long last completed the selection process for Initiates to the newest Cadre.

The Cadre, an elite squadron of officers comprised of members from all branches of Misthaven’s military, is personally selected every three years by the King and Queen. The newly chosen members of the Cadre will arrive in the capital city of Spero next week, at which time they will enter into a rigorous training boot camp designed to ready them to serve both as personal guards to the entire royal family and emissaries of the country’s armed forces when they accompany the royal family abroad.

Candidates selected for this rarified group have proven themselves in a variety of ways. They must have graduated in the top third of their cadet class, possess an exemplary service record in their branch of the military, show an aptitude and inclination for officer training, be in peak physical condition, and conduct themselves with honor in their everyday service. Having exhibited extraordinary valor in combat scenarios is also taken into account, but is by no means mandatory.

In addition to boot camp, when each new Cadre is selected, one member of each service branch from the previous Cadre remains in place for the first year of the new Cadre’s term. They are intended to act as mentor and training officer for their service branch within the Cadre and may be called upon to perform Cadre functions from time to time – though their main purpose is to train the newly selected members of the squadron. During the first year of each Cadre’s tenure, the presence of these training officers cause the group to swell to twelve members rather than its typical nine.

The existence of the Cadre dates back almost to the founding of Misthaven. Though its exact origins have been lost to time and the great fire of 1860, which destroyed much of the contents of the Hall of Records for Misthaven’s military, anecdotal evidence traces its beginning back to the kingdom’s fledgling days. Formed to protect the leaders of the small, newly-formed kingdom against the outside forces of its larger and mightier neighbors, over time, the Cadre has also come to serve other purposes – these include fostering community, partnership, and mutual understanding between members of different service branches. Members often maintain close professional ties long after their Cadre years are over. These bonds help to strengthen Misthaven’s military in tangible and intangible ways.

Of course, the Cadre still adheres to its original purpose – providing the highest caliber of protective services to Misthaven’s royal family. This year, the twelve servicemen and women appointed to the Cadre are:

Royal Misthaven Army

Captain R. Locksley

Lieutenant B. French

Warrant Officer W. Scarlet

Lieutenant G. Humbert – training officer

 Royal Air Force of Misthaven

Wing Commander A. King

Flight Lieutenant E. Merlin

Flight Lieutenant M. Fa

Flight Lieutenant L. Dulac – training officer

 Misthaven Royal Navy

Commander L. Jones

Lieutenant K. Jones

Sub-lieutenant W. Smee

Lieutenant-Commander K. Nottingham – training officer

-/-

Emma sighed with relief as the back door of Two Wolves Tavern swung shut behind her, effectively muffling the noise from the street outside. Thankfully, this part of Spero was a good distance from the bars and clubs that lined the streets of the capital city’s small, yet bustling, nightclub district. Two Wolves would get busier as the night went on, but it would be nothing like the sort of chaos that could be found downtown.

The tavern was old – having been in the same family’s ownership for multiple generations – and the inside was a blend of cozy restaurant, warm and inviting bar, and a small space where those who were so inclined could dance. The wood paneling was dark and burnished to a shine, the lights low and soothing, and the furnishings were on the rustic, lived-in side. All of those elements combined to give the tavern itself an uncanny ability to project a sense of comfort and safety every time a person stepped through its doors.

It didn’t hurt that its owners – Elizabeth Lucas and her granddaughter Ruby – were friendly and yet fiercely protective of their clientele. Not to mention that they had been friends of Misthaven’s royal family since the current queen was a young girl. Privacy and discretion were as guaranteed at Two Wolves as they could ever be in a city as infamously gossip-riddled as Spero.

In short, it was perfect.

It was the ideal place for a princess to hide away from the world for a few hours, which was exactly what Emma was determined to do.

She straightened, pushing up from where she’d slumped against the now-closed door, and took a deep breath. Slipping inside the nearby ladies’ room, she took a moment to look at herself – truly look – in the mirror above the tiny sink. Beyond the crack running up one edge of the glass she saw a woman who, while appearing slightly tired, had an invigorated sparkle in her eyes. She loved her family and – most of the time – she loved the life she got to lead. But there were some occasions when the expectations and pressures of being a princess just got to be too much and she needed to get away.

Tonight is definitely one of those times, she thought to herself with a grimace. Especially if the Privy Council is going to be so ridiculously archaic–

Emma cut off her own line of thought with a shake of her head. The situation with the council was exactly what she’d been coming here to avoid. She was hardly about to ruin her own evening by thinking about it now. If she got going, she knew she’d only end up stewing about it for hours and that was not what she wanted out of tonight.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again, pushing a strand of auburn hair from her bobbed wig back behind her ear and straightening the square black frames on her glasses (a relic from her life before contacts). Happy with what she saw, she grinned widely at herself. She was under no illusions as to what would happen when her Cadre guards discovered her missing from the palace. No doubt they’d assume she was at Two Wolves and follow her here. It’s not like it was the first time she’d come here after all. Her parents were (relatively) at peace with her choice of “escape” location, and she always was careful enough to wear a different disguise each visit – though usually, she did bring her guards with her.

But, she’d reasoned with herself as she’d slipped out of the palace unseen, even if she hadn’t brought Humbert and Dunbroch with her, it’s not like Two Wolves wasn’t known as an off-duty Cadre hang out. Surely she’d be safe enough there – and she really needed out of the palace for just a night.

After fussing with the set of her wig a bit more, Emma was finally satisfied that she looked innocuous enough and left the ladies’ room. Entering the tavern’s main room, she immediately spotted Ruby behind the bar and moved to take a seat at the far end – the dark, weathered wooden bar-top curved around there to meet the wall, creating a cozy little nook where Emma hoped she wouldn’t be overly bothered.

Ruby finished with her current customer and headed in Emma’s direction. “Heya, so what can I get–“ the question died on Ruby’s lips as she caught sight of Emma. Narrowing her eyes and darting a furtive glance around the room, she hissed “Emma?!” almost under her breath. “That is you, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded, grinning back at the woman she’d come to consider a true friend over the last several years. “Yep,” she replied brightly. “Though I really do hope no one else will be able to figure it out so easily.”

Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You look completely different with that hair. It was just…the glasses, I think. You’ve used them before with a different wig and they looked a bit familiar. But I’m probably the only one who would pick up on that.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” Emma sighed. “I really can’t deal with my cover being blown tonight.”

“Uh oh…that doesn’t sound good. Everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Ruby asked, a concerned frown stealing across her face.

“Not really.”

Her friend laughed at that. “Understood,” she replied. “Let me get you something to ease your troubles then. What’ll it be?”

She ordered a glass of rum – something she’d picked up a fondness for a few years ago, much to her mother’s chagrin – and settled in, spending the next hour or so chatting with Ruby when the other woman didn’t need to take care of her other customers. She also got into a spirited, yet good-natured political debate with some of the local regulars – thankfully none of whom recognized her – pleased to find that she held her own even when the discussion delved into some of the more intricately nuanced topics.

This had been exactly what she’d needed tonight. A chance to get away and just be Emma, not a princess, not someone who had to weigh and consider each and every action against some grand standard of courtly behavior. Honestly, she loved her family, and she knew she was incredibly privileged to live the life she led – but there were times when it just felt like no one truly knew the real person she was underneath her title.

Emma just wanted to be seen.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she became aware of a presence settling onto the barstool a couple of seats to her left. Ruby came over to drop off Emma’s second rum and take the newcomer’s order. Before she moved back towards the other end of the bar, she caught Emma’s eye and gave a slight nod in the direction of the stranger, a wicked grin curling her mouth.

When Ruby got that look, it usually spelled trouble – and as much as Emma might want to cut loose and spend a night free from the constraints of her royal duties, she still knew that there was a line that she simply could not cross.

At least not anymore, she thought. She might have been more reckless when she’d been younger, but she’d learned long ago – the hard way – that there were certain things, normal-people things, that simply weren’t in the cards for her.

Getting pulled into one of Ruby Lucas’ madcap adventures definitely qualified as one of those things.

She’d just made her mind up to take her drink over to a quiet table in the opposite corner of the tavern and leave the end of the bar in possession of the new arrival, but she made the mistake of looking in his direction as she moved to stand up.

Sitting next to her, with nothing but one empty barstool in between them, was – quite simply – the most unfairly attractive man Emma had ever seen in her life.

It’s like the universe must be laughing at me, she thought to herself grumpily. Dropping someone who looks like that in my path when there’s no way I can do anything about it. Or, at least, no way that I should.

He was dark-haired, with a slightly lighter scruff dusted along his sharp jawline. From where she sat, it wasn’t hard to discern his broad shoulders, leanly muscled arms, or narrowly tapering waist. His eyebrows seemed to dance expressively along his forehead when he turned to face her, and they hovered over what had to be the mostly unfairly blue pair of eyes Emma had ever seen.

“Lass?” the stranger asked softly. His voice bore the lilting accent typical of those from Misthaven’s southern coastal region. “Are you quite alright?”

Shit!

She must have been staring when he’d looked in her direction. Moving to pick up her drink and take a sip to distract herself, her hand fumbled slightly and the tumbler toppled over, sending rum rippling across the ancient bar-top.

“Dammit,” she muttered, before looking back up at him. “Oh, yeah…yes. I’m fine – just…”

“Here,” he offered, sliding over to sit on the barstool directly next to her and handing her his napkin to help mop up the spill. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again, his voice filled with more concern than she would’ve thought possible considering they’d literally just met and she didn’t even know his name – and he couldn’t come to know hers.

Not her real one, at least.

She shrugged, looking away from him and concentrating on swiping at the alcohol that had finally stopped spreading and now lay in a thin sheen over the bar top. “Mostly,” she murmured. “I guess I’m just having one of those days, you know?”

He chuckled, and she glanced up to see an understanding grin work its way across his face as he nodded. “Aye, I can sympathize. I feel like I’ve been having one of those days for most of the past month.”

“Oh?” she asked, even as she mentally scolded herself for prolonging the conversation. She knew she should just cut things off – find a quick, polite way to excuse herself, pay up and say good night to Ruby, and make her way back to the palace. If she did that, maybe she’d even make it back before her Cadre guards made it here tonight. But she couldn’t seem to help herself – something about this stranger captivated her.

It wasn’t just his obviously good looks, either – he had a quiet earnestness about him. That, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t immediately tried to hit on her – at least not overtly – made her want to stay in his orbit at least a little bit longer.

“Mm,” he nodded, though Emma had almost forgotten she’d asked him a question. “I moved to the city at the start of the month for…a new position with a heavier workload. I knew it was going to be different, but let’s just say it’s been more of an adjustment than I was expecting.”

She noted the slight pause partway through the stranger’s answer, but when she caught his gaze, he was looking at her with nothing but sincerity. Emma had always had a sixth sense as to when people were being untruthful – her parents and brother always teasingly called it her “superpower,” but it had rarely steered her wrong. Her instincts about people were usually pretty spot on, and this guy, whoever he was, didn’t ring any alarm bells for her.

“That sounds like a lot to take on all at once,” she said sympathetically. “I hope it’s been worth it…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

He caught on quickly and supplied his name at last. “Killian,” he said with another smile. “And yes, so far it has been…” he said, tilting his head in her direction, clearly waiting for her to reciprocate with her name.

“Anna,” she murmured, hoping if she lied softly it somehow wouldn’t feel as bad as she feared it would. It did though. Emma hated being lied to, and she really hated doing it to someone else – but she really didn’t see any other way to stay there and keep talking to Killian. Which, apparently, is something I really want to do, she realized suddenly.

“Anna,” he repeated, the syllables sounding lovely as they rolled off his tongue, yet making her stomach twist all the same with their falseness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiled at that, small but genuine. “You too, Killian,” she said, only slightly surprised to discover how much she meant it.

With that, they fell into an easy conversation – or, at least, as easy a conversation as Emma could have with anyone who didn’t know her real identity. But unlike the political discussion she’d been having with the locals earlier in the evening, the longer she spent talking with Killian, the more she wished she could tell him who she was.

Just when she was thinking that she really had to find a way to extricate herself and sneak back home, marveling that she still hadn’t seen any sign of the Cadre, her luck ran out. Killian was in the middle of a rather absurdly charming story of some childhood shenanigans involving him, his older brother, and a stray dog they’d smuggled home and tried to hide from their parents – but just as he was reaching the heart of the story, Emma caught a flash of red hair over his left shoulder.

It could have been someone else – Lieutenant Dunbroch wasn’t the only person in Spero with bright red hair, not by a long shot – but considering the speed with which said hair’s owner was moving, and the taller figure that had slipped inside after her and lingered in the shadows near the front door, the odds were good that she and Lieutenant Humbert had finally caught up to her.

Keeping her attention on Killian, Emma held out her hand where he couldn’t see it and signaled for Lieutenant Dunbroch to stop. She knew the other woman would no doubt be extremely irritated, but she hoped that she would at least give Emma a moment to say goodbye to Killian without giving away her identity.

“-and then he licked Mum’s nose and cuddled right up to her and she just…melted,” Killian said, huffing out a laugh. “In the end, the joke was on Liam and me – that blasted dog loved her more’n either of us.”

Emma chuckled softly. “Adorable, but apparently fickle,” she teased, before signaling to Ruby to put all of her and Killian’s drinks on her ongoing tab and shifting to stand. She paused for a moment, unsure how to extricate herself smoothly – looking over at Lieutenant Dunbroch, she estimated that she had mere moments before her guard broke up the conversation. The other woman would never cause any scene that would attract more attention Emma’s way, but the Lieutenant would undoubtedly take a much blunter approach to ending Emma’s conversation with Killian than she’d prefer.

While she’d been lost in her thoughts, Killian’s gaze flicked over her, landing on her face. He seemed to notice that she was preparing to leave, and reached out to lay his hand over her free one where it still lay on the bar. “You’re leaving, lass?”

She returned his gaze, a feeling of true regret washing through her. It was something she’d not expected when she’d first met him, thinking him then to be just a handsome stranger – someone good to waste an hour in a bar with, but that’s all. But the conversation they’d fallen into over the course of the evening had shown her that there was much more to him than met the eye.

He was kind, smart, funny, and opinionated – and, she realized with a start, he was shockingly good at putting her at ease. Once they’d started talking, she’d barely given a thought to getting back to the palace or worrying about the Cadre catching up to her. She’d even forgotten about the matter that had originally driven her outside the palace walls that evening.

That’s dangerous, she thought. I can’t afford to be unfocused right now.

Not that Killian knew anything about that – not with the tale she’d spun him of being a scholarship student at the University of Spero, in the capital city from her home in the far northern reaches of the country. And not that he’ll get a chance to know, either – it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

“Yes, uh…sorry, yeah. I have to go,” she murmured, sliding her fingers out from underneath his, a wave of longing washing over her as the heat of his hand leeched from hers. She ducked her head down and avoided his eyes, afraid of what she might find there, glancing instead at Lieutenant Dunbroch out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got, um, an early morning tomorrow,” she said. It wasn’t a total lie – it was just that she would be spending yet another day in a rotation of royal duties, which she found beyond mind-numbing, rather than in academic arguments with some university professor, which is no doubt closer to the assumptions Killian must have been making about her plans for the following day.

“I understand, Anna,” he said with a refreshing sincerity. “In fact, I have a rather early one myself – didn’t realize it had gotten so late. It was just very easy to talk to you,” he said, biting his lip after the words escaped. Emma smiled to herself – his slightly flustered reaction was actually really adorable.

And that kind of thinking is even more dangerous.

Emma saw Lieutenant Dunbroch take a step in her direction and knew she had to do something now if she had any hope at all of salvaging a smooth exit. She stepped to the side, putting a bit more space in between her and where Killian sat. “I had a great time too,” she said honestly. “I just have to go-”

“Can I see you again?” he interjected, standing and taking a step forward into her space. She stiffened in surprise – wanting to say yes but knowing it would be playing with fire. Killian seemed to mistake her shock for disinterest though, as his face fell slightly and he started to backtrack. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just thought that-”

“Yes,” she breathed. It seemed as though it was her turn to shock him, if the dazed smile spreading across his face were any indication.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed, feeling her own smile get bigger. “When?”

“Uhm,” He blinked for a moment, as if still startled that she’d agreed, which Emma found just as adorable as his earlier flustered state. “I hate to wait this long, but a week from tonight? Work is going to make the rest of this week kind of impossible, I’m afraid.”

Emma internally breathed a sigh of relief. A week would give her time to figure out exactly how she was going to get away with sneaking out of the palace again so soon after this adventure. “That’s okay. A week is perfect. I’ll meet you here? Maybe at seven?”

He nodded. “Sounds perfect, lass.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” she flashed him a bright smile and turned away before she could say or do anything else impulsive, like kiss him goodbye or something. She thought she heard him call after her as she walked away, but by that point she was bypassing the spot where Lieutenant Dunbroch was waiting, the other woman falling into step behind her, and her attention shifted to planning out how to get out of the trouble she’d be in for slipping away from her guards for the evening.

Still, she thought, it was definitely worth it.

-/-

“Lass! Anna! I don’t have your number!” Killian called after the retreating figure of the woman who’d enchanted him since he’d sat down next to her earlier that evening. Unfortunately, she must not have heard him over the music and chatter of other patrons that filled the tavern because she kept on moving, never breaking stride.

The fleeting thought entered his head that maybe she hadn’t actually been serious when she’d agreed to see him again, and that maybe now she was just trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But he didn’t want to believe it – the connection between them that night had felt so easy, so natural, so real. He couldn’t believe that it had been one sided.

He sighed, sinking back down on his barstool and running a hand through his hair. There was nothing for it – he’d just have to show up at Two Wolves next week and hope that she’d be there. He’d hated having to ask her to wait that long, but in Cadre training, he and his fellow Initiates only received one night off each week – there was nothing else he could have done if he’d wanted to see her again. And he definitely did.

Resolving to put the uncertainty over whether he’d really see Anna again out of his mind and focus on his training for the next week, he moved to flag down the bartender so that he could pay and get back to base. She came over but waved him off when he tried to settle his bill. “Already taken care of,” she said with a wicked grin. “By your lady friend there,” she gestured to the seat where Anna had been with a flourish. “Thought you knew.”

Killian shook his head slowly, putting his wallet away as the brunette sauntered back down to the other end of the bar, not waiting for him to respond. He felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, it seemed like there was a much better chance that Anna would show up next week.

-/-

Emma fidgeted in her seat, twisting the hem of her sweater absently between her fingers as she tried – with little success – to pay attention to Elsa, her private secretary, as the other woman ran through the calendar of Emma’s upcoming public appearances and social obligations. Though she knew it was expected of her to absorb as much of this information as possible and engage in making decisions about how she would participate in each event, she just couldn’t seem to focus today.

If she were being honest, for the last three days it had been a struggle to concentrate on her royal duties – she found herself staring off into space more often than not, having an unusual amount of trouble banishing a certain pair of blue eyes and a deep, rich laugh from her memory.

It was ridiculous – she should never have gone to Two Wolves in the first place, and she certainly shouldn’t have gotten into such a deeply engaging conversation with someone she’d never met before, and she absolutely should not have agreed to see him again.

But…she had done all of those things.

Moreover, she was actually plotting ways to follow through on her promise to meet Killian again without arousing suspicion from her Cadre guards – or, worse, her family.

Thankfully, the guard detail changed every week, and Lieutenants Dunbroch and Humbert had already handed off to Lieutenant MacIntosh and Flight Lieutenant Dulac. Though the Cadre members of course informed each other routinely of any issues with their royal charges, Emma hoped that the change of guards would at least give her more of a chance to elude them when the time came. Surely, they wouldn’t expect her to sneak out two weeks in a row – whenever she’d had one of her “normal Emma” nights in the past, they had been spaced months and months apart.

She’d never dared to be so brazen before, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was risking it now.

There was just something about Killian she couldn’t shake.

More to the point, she didn’t want to.

Emma was pulled from her thoughts by the noise of a throat clearing, and from the tone of the sound, it wasn’t the first time. She looked up, a sheepish expression on her face, to see Elsa staring at her, one eyebrow arched inquisitively. “I’m sorry, your highness. Would you prefer to resume at another time?” Her words were proper and correct, but her tone was slightly pointed, as though there were something she wanted to say but was holding herself back.

It was a more appropriate tack for a friend to have taken, rather than an employee, but Emma never had been very good about keeping firm boundaries between herself and her staff. She’d always treated them more like friends and colleagues than employees, and encouraged them to do the same. (Out of public view, at least – her parents took a similar stance in private but of course royal propriety had to be observed in front of the masses).

“Oh…no,” she said, shaking her head in an attempt to dismiss the last of her wandering thoughts. “I know I drifted a bit there, but I promise I’m with you. Where were we?”

Elsa smiled sympathetically at her. “The ribbon cutting for the new equestrian center in Norton on Friday, followed by the christening of the Royal Navy’s new ship in Fair Isle Bay Saturday morning.” Emma sighed and, while she didn’t exactly roll her eyes, something of her displeasure must have shown in her expression because Elsa chuckled softly. “I know how you feel about these events, your highness. But you know that-”

“It’s all part of my duties,” Emma cut in. “Yes, I do. I just wish that sometimes those duties could include something more meaningful than standing around in a pretty dress and waving at the crowd as a ribbon is snipped or a bottle of champagne is flung against a ship. I want to do something with my life. What good is the power my position grants me if I can’t do anything useful with it?!”

Elsa looked at her like she didn’t quite know what to say. This was a conversation they’d had often enough since Elsa had become her private secretary, but they’d pretty much exhausted the topic long ago. Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone softening. “None of this is your fault…I just. The Privy Council has been especially tiresome recently.”

“Ah,” Elsa’s expression morphed from slightly shocked into something much more understanding. “Minister Gold still harping on the same old things?”

Emma nodded, slumping down in her chair and leaning her head back against the overstuffed upholstery. “With a few new bits,” she replied. “He’s still very much of the opinion that my parents wasted both Misthaven’s time and resources by allowing me to go to college, let alone grad school, and that my efforts would have been far better spent courting the attentions of one of Europe’s eligible princelings. In the last council meeting, he actually said that if I were so bound and determined to make a contribution to Misthaven’s future, I ought to speed up the husband-hunt so that I could get down to the business of producing the next heir. He didn’t actually add the phrase ‘before you’re no longer of child-bearing years’ but the meaning was clearly implied.”

Elsa looked aghast. “He’s a pig,” she declared (triggering a surprised snort of laughter from Emma), before continuing. “Besides, you’re the next heir. Has he somehow forgotten that?”

“Oh no,” Emma replied, the edge in her tone belying the false brightness of her words. “That’s the fun new twist to his ravings. He’s putting a bill before the council promoting the revocation of the reformed succession laws. He’d have it so that he’d reduce my father’s standing due to his so-called ‘common’ birth status, and bump Leo up the chain – until and unless I had any male children.”

“But, but, but,” Elsa sputtered. “There’s just so much wrong with that, I don’t even know where to begin!”

“Trust me, I know,” Emma sighed as Elsa started to pace back and forth. “But I doubt that pointing out his logical flaws would slow Gold down.”

Elsa’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. “But your father isn’t of common birth! He was a Prince of Glowerhaven-”

“A title used only ceremonially for the past century, despite its connection to Glowerhaven’s ancient royal house,” Emma pointed out.

“And Leo’s eight! Even if Gold succeeded, your brother wouldn’t be of age for another thirteen years – what’s the country supposed to do in the meantime? Wait?!” Elsa was working herself up into a state the likes of which Emma had rarely seen from the usually cool and composed blonde. “These laws have been on the books for nearly thirty years! He cannot possibly think that he’ll get this out of the council, much less to the floor of the parliament.”

Emma laughed, but it was a short, dry sound. “No, not even he’s that crazy – but he’s plotting something. I just don’t know what.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is too obvious. You said it – it’s not something that will pass the council’s vote, and the parliament will never even see this bill. But before it’s all over, the news of his ideas will leak out and he’ll be able to create enough of a controversy that public opinion will be whipped up and debating it all for months. He then gets to back off and make his real play while everyone is distracted with the succession issue, even though that’s just white noise.”

Understanding dawned on Elsa’s face. “But you don’t know what it is he really wants,” she replied. It wasn’t a question.

“Not a clue,” Emma said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. “But whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

-/-

All things considered, she really shouldn’t have gone back to Two Wolves the next week to meet Killian.

The situation with Minister Gold continued to be tense, and Emma’s parents hadn’t exactly been thrilled when her Cadre guards had reported her previous week’s adventure. But despite spending most of the week twisted with indecision over the matter, she found herself slipping out of the castle yet again the following Monday evening, heading for the stables.

Her auburn wig and glasses were tucked into a small satchel that bounced at her hip. She’d slip them on once she was behind the stable and before she scrambled over the wall separating the palace grounds from the quiet road that ran in one direction towards the forest and the other down into Spero.

She really shouldn’t have gone, but when she got to the tavern and caught sight of Killian’s face – he didn’t see her at first and she spied him scratching nervously behind his right ear before checking his watch and glancing around – she knew she’d made the right decision. The brilliant smile that bloomed across his features when he caught sight of her didn’t hurt either.

By the time the end of the evening rolled around, they’d spent several hours wandering hand in hand through a street carnival in the heart of downtown and sitting and talking over coffee and pastry at an out of the way café Killian had spotted. The conversation had flowed easily between them, as had the teasing and laughter, and every moment made Emma more and more certain she wanted to see him again, damn all the risks.

When he walked her back to the spot where they’d met earlier in the evening and pressed lingering kisses first to the ridge of her knuckles and then to the inside of her left wrist, she was absolutely sure of it.

Pressing up on her tiptoes and gripping his shoulder for balance, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Give me your phone.” He handed it over with a quirk of his eyebrow and she programmed her actual, private number into it and sent herself a text before she could think better of her actions. Brushing a whisper of a kiss along his jawline, she pressed the phone back into his hand and stepped back. “I had a great time, Killian.”

“Me too, lass,” he breathed, looking at her with a kind of intense wonder that made his eyes seem lit from within.

Emma had the sneaking suspicion she was looking at him in much the same way, but she also needed to take a literal and metaphorical breath – this was all rather a lot to process – and she really needed to get back to the palace before she was missed. (She was kind of marveling at the fact that her guard detail hadn’t caught up to her tonight – although she supposed it was because they’d moved around so much at the street fair that they’d been hard to find, especially if the Cadre would have put their focus on Two Wolves. Still, she wasn’t going to take her luck for granted – the last thing she needed was another lecture from this week’s detail about the perils of sneaking out).

“I’d better get going,” she murmured, glancing up to find him still gazing at her with that semi-awestruck expression. “But, uh, text me, yeah?”

He smiled slowly, and leaned closer, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek. “You can bet on it, love,” he whispered as he drew back.

Emma smiled all the way back to the palace.

Neither of them took any notice of the camera snapping photos from the shadowy corner across the street.

-/-

The sun shone brightly and the sky was an endless blue expanse, broken only rarely by the puffiest white clouds. A cool breeze blew inland off of the water, and off in the distance – perhaps on one of the public beaches further down the coast – several kites in an array of vibrant colors bobbed and wove their way through the air.

In short, it was a perfect day – made even more so by the warm weight of Anna’s head where it rested against his shoulder. They were sitting on a blanket on a grassy hill overlooking the bay, sharing the remains of a picnic lunch he’d brought. When he’d texted her earlier in the week to propose their next meeting (Or were these, officially, dates by this point? Killian knew what he wanted them to be, but still wasn’t completely sure of what Anna was thinking), he’d suggested doing something a bit different and had been thrilled when she’d seemed excited about a mini-break to the seaside.

He’d met her at the train station closest to Two Wolves at mid-morning and they’d spent the railway journey once again in companionable conversation – with the notable addition of a bit of hand-holding and, for the latter part of the ride, Killian’s arm slung round her shoulders. They’d played at sight-seeing as the Misthaven countryside had slipped by the windows – though, he noted, they were both fairly well versed with the route. It made sense for him, having spent most of the years of his naval training and service based in Fair Isle Bay, but he made a mental note to ask Anna later if she’d spent much time by the coast, given her northern upbringing.

They’d arrived at the coast just before noon, spending the first hour or so poking into the little shops up and down the boardwalk of one of the small villages not too far from the naval base. He knew he was taking a risk bringing her here – anyone from his old detail who was off-base on liberty could spot him. That wouldn’t please his Cadre training officer one bit, given that Cadre members weren’t meant to broadcast their status as such – it was one of the first things that was drilled into every Initiate during boot camp.

(It was part of the reason why the newspapers only published the Initiates’ rank, first initials, and last name when the new Cadre was announced – and didn’t use any photos. From the point they entered Cadre boot camp, new Initiates were meant to keep as low a profile as possible – bringing a date (if that is what this was) to the Royal Navy’s backyard was just tempting fate. But Killian had to show her the coast – it was so much a part of him, of who he was. He needed to share such an intrinsic part of him with this woman who was – with startling rapidity – coming to mean a great deal to him).

After having some ice cream at a quaint little place on the edge of the town – Anna’d bargained quite convincingly with him that they should get dessert before they had their lunch – Killian beckoned Anna to follow him up one of the public walking trails that snaked over the low hills separating the town from the beaches and the coastline proper.

They’d found a relatively flat spot with a brilliant view of the water that wasn’t too far off the path, but was sheltered enough for a bit of privacy, and had set about enjoying their lunch. Now, bellies full and conversation – for the moment – exhausted, they were simply enjoying the moment. Sitting together, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze. Every time the wind shifted in a particular direction, Killian smelled the enticing apple and cinnamon scent of Anna’s shampoo over the salt in the sea air. He curled his arm around her shoulders again and tugged her ever-so-slightly closer. She hummed in contentment and nestled ever further into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He wasn’t quite sure how this had happened – wasn’t even sure exactly what to call what they were doing – but Killian had never expected to find anyone like Anna when he’d gone to Spero for Cadre boot camp. She was passionate, brilliant, funny, and could argue politics with him until they both needed to catch their breath. She challenged him, and seemed to delight in their verbal sparring matches as much as he did – but that was far from all. When she spoke of her studies, and her desire to help those who were less fortunate in life, her compassion shone so brightly it nearly took Killian’s breath away.

Not to mention she was beautiful – her physical attributes were…captivating…and he couldn’t pretend they’d gone unnoticed – but her gently dimpled cheeks, alabaster skin, deep green eyes, and lustrous auburn hair meant less to him than the beauty he could see in her heart.

“I wish I could have this all the time,” she murmured, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“Hmm?” Killian hummed, pulling himself out of his wandering thoughts and tilting his head so that he could look down at her.

She peered up at him, blinking slowly as if she’d been nearly on the brink of falling asleep on his shoulder. “This…this kind of day. It’s so peaceful, and calm…and just…real.”

He chuckled at her turn of phrase. “D’you have many days that aren’t real, then?”

She huffed out a dry laugh. “You’d be surprised,” she muttered. He waited for her to explain, and after a moment she shrugged. “It’s just…a lot of the time, I feel like I’m not fulfilling my…true purpose, I guess. Or, well…I’m following the path that was laid out for me, and I don’t really have a lot of input into how to make it a better path. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. D’you know what I mean?”

Her words make him think of his own youth, and the choices – or lack thereof – that had been offered to him and Liam. Sitting up a little more fully, he looked away from her, out over the water, and began talking. “My Mum died when I was barely ten, Da left a year later – couldn’t hack tryin’ t’raise two boys on his own. Liam – my brother – worked and scraped and saved and did everything he could to give us a better chance-”

“Killian, you don’t have to-” Anna tried to cut in.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I want to.” He took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “He worked, he got into the Royal Naval Academy, and then when I was old enough, I followed him. I’d follow him anywhere – he saved me when our family fell apart – and I really have come to love the Navy. I love the sea, and the structure and purpose of the work is fulfilling…”

“But?” this time Anna prompted him when he trailed off.

“But,” he said, glancing back at her, smiling genuinely at the concern he saw on her face. “Much as I’ve come to adapt to it and find meaning in it, it wasn’t my own dream. It was really Liam’s. But it’s where I’ve found myself, and I’ve tried to make the most of it that I can – I’ve found ways to make that dream mine and I work hard at making it meaningful to me every day. I’ve found parts of it that I can latch on to and really connect with. Then, my finding purpose in it makes it possible to do something meaningful for others.”

“And does that work? Is it enough for you?” she asked him, a genuine curiosity flickering over her features.

He caught her gaze and held it earnestly. “I think so,” he said honestly. “Some days, I feel more connected, more purposeful, than others, if I’m being honest. But even on the days when I feel like I might be slacking off on the whole ‘fulfilling my maximum potential’ thing, I do feel like I’m making a positive difference for my country,” he ducked his head, feeling a flicker of embarrassment. “Sorry, that sounded a bit overly patriotic and rah-rah, I know.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head emphatically. “It makes a lot of sense. Thank you for sharing all that with me,” she said with an earnestness that made him smile softly at her.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he murmured. “I guess I’m just trying to say that even if you don’t have a lot of options in terms of choosing the actual direction your life is headed in right now, you still have the power to shape the path that lies ahead. You still have choices you can make and ways you can focus on the things that are important to you. You just have to be patient – pick your moments and your metaphorical battles and before you know it, you’ll have wrestled this challenge into submission and be on to conquer the next one.”

She chuckled wryly. “You really think so?”

“Aye,” He replied. “I know I’ve not known you long, Anna, but as it stands I think you’re brilliant, and believe you can accomplish anything you set your mind to. To hell with anyone who says you can’t.”

Her eyes flicked up to his and he was caught in the fiery determination he saw in her gaze. Before he could say anything else – in fact, before he’d really processed what was happening – she’d circled one arm further around his waist and her other hand had slid into the hair at the nape of his neck and she’d pulled him into a kiss that rivaled any he’d ever had in its sheer intensity.

Cliched as it might have sounded, time seemed to stop in that moment.

The muted sounds of the seashore – gulls crying in the distance, waves breaking on the beach far below them, the far off strains of another tourist’s radio playing what Killian was fairly sure was an Ed Sheeran song – melted away the instant Anna’s lips met his. His own arms wound around her back, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap – a move that pulled a low moan from her that Killian felt as much as he heard it.

He turned his head, the tip of his nose pressing into the apple of her cheek as he deepened the kiss.  She mirrored him, parting her lips readily and making a happy little noise Killian swore he’d remember the rest of his life when his tongue darted inside and curled around her own. They spent endless minutes getting progressively lost in each other – hands wandering, breath stuttering, hips shifting restlessly – until Anna finally pulled back, a ragged chuckle tumbling from her lips as Killian instinctively followed her movements. “Wow,” she breathed.

“I heartily agree, love,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping shut as he leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. “Not that I’m complaining in any way – but what brought that on?”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “You believed in me, Killian…Killian…Killian?”

“Killian!”

He sat bolt upright in his chair as his attention snapped back to the present moment and he realized Anna was nowhere to be seen and he wasn’t on a mini-holiday to the coast. Rather, he was in one of the Cadre’s briefing rooms and the person who’d been calling him – for quite some time judging by her slightly irritated yet concerned expression – was one of his fellow Initiates. “Lieutenant French…er, Belle,” he said, “I’m sorry. I must have been lost in thought.”

Belle just arched an amused eyebrow at him and moved past him to take the seat next to him. “I’ll say,” she replied dryly. “You were staring off into space when I came in – you’re just lucky the rest of the group is running late. Is everything alright?”

Killian nodded sheepishly. “Yes…more than, actually.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if – without getting into the more personal details – he could share any of his happiness with Belle. Since the beginning of boot camp, they’d been paired together on several training exercises and instructional projects. Their training officers had indicated that they’d been paired because they had complimentary skill sets and aptitudes and would likely be detailed together within the Cadre once boot camp was complete – beyond that, though, Killian had grown genuinely fond of the diminutive yet fierce woman and as she seemed to feel the same about him, a warm friendship had sprung up between them. If he could tell anyone about Anna, he could tell Belle – Liam would likely warn him against getting “distracted” during his training, and what he needed right now was a listening ear, not his brother’s well-meaning but sometimes rigid stance on the rules. “I met someone a couple of weeks ago…”

“Oh really?” she asked, a note of interest coloring her voice. “Must be a really special someone – you were completely somewhere else when I walked in here.”

“She is,” he nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face even though he felt slightly like a teenager talking about his first crush. “I’ve seen her on every off day we’ve had so far, and I can’t stop thinking about her-”

“Clearly,” Belle interjected with a laugh.

“Ha ha…I’m serious, Belle. I feel like I’ve been knocked off my feet by her. I never expected this, much less that it would happen during boot camp – it’s getting harder and harder not to tell her what I really do. I know I can’t,” he rushed to say when Belle looked like she wanted to remind him of the Cadre’s need for secrecy. “But I don’t know how much longer I can go on seeing her and not tell her – it’s a big thing to keep hidden.”

“And you definitely want to keep seeing her?” Belle asked.

Killian shot her a look. “Clearly. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you might want to-” Belle began, but was cut off when the rest of their Initiate class began to file into the room, followed by Flight Lieutenant Dulac. She looked over at Killian, chagrined. Later, she mouthed and he nodded.

“Good morning Initiates,” Lieutenant Dulac’s booming voice greeted them. “Thank you all for being so punctual this morning,” he paused to stare pointedly in the direction of another Initiate, Warrant Officer Scarlet, who had barely made it through the door before the class had begun. “Welcome to the beginning of your Surveillance and Reconnaissance unit.”

Killian forced himself to stop thinking about anything but the class, pushing both Anna and his conversation with Belle to the back of his mind as he listened closely to Dulac’s lecture. Of all the officers who were guiding the Initiates’ training, Killian had quickly grown to admire Dulac the most and had gotten a great deal out of any session he led.

“…now, as we see here,” Dulac clicked through several slides in the PowerPoint presentation he was using for this class session until he found the one he wanted, “low-light photography can be a challenge even in this digital age. This photograph,” he gestured to the slide up on the screen, “was taken last week and though you can see Princess Emma quite clearly under the streetlight at the left of the image, her companion is unfortunately cast in shadow and it’s not possible to make out enough of his features for facial rec.”

“Not even with enhancement, sir?” one of the other Initiates – Locksley, an army Captain Killian had come to like and respect – asked from the far corner of the room.

Dulac shook his head. “No. The officer doing the recon work here was, by necessity, too far away to get a shot that would give us the right angle.”

“Well he shoulda got closer then, shouldn’t he?” this was from Scarlet, before Locksley elbowed him in an attempt to keep him quiet.

Dulac kept his cool. “Officer Scarlet, while it would have been ideal to get closer, one also must think about whether one has adequate cover to do so – it does no good to get the right photo and reveal yourself in the process. Showing that you are shadowing one of the royal family too closely tips off onlookers to the fact that they are the royal family, which immediately increases the dangers – especially in situations like this where the princess has ventured out incognito.”

Killian’s head snapped around at that, and, for this first time, he took a good look at the photo in Lieutenant Dulac’s slide – and all the breath seemed to rush from his body.

He recognized that street, and the tavern in the background.

Moreover, he recognized the man that Dulac said couldn’t be identified. Killian could identify him easily and immediately – because he was the man.

But what didn’t make sense was Dulac’s statement that this was a photo of Princess Emma, because this photo clearly showed his Anna kissing a mystery man on the cheek – you, his brain helpfully supplied – outside Two Wolves a week ago. For a moment, Killian simply stared at the photo, his brain refusing to fully process the information.

When the truth finally clicked in, he realized that he had far bigger problems than having to keep his place in the Cadre a secret from the woman he’d rapidly been falling for – she’d been keeping a far bigger secret of her own.

-/-

“Emma, a word,” her mother’s voice – soft but commanding – came from the other end of the corridor just as Emma was stepping out of her bedroom. She’d not seen her mother standing there and jumped at the unexpected sound of the older woman’s voice.

“God, Mom, don’t do that,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry,” the queen said, her tone softening a fraction. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I do need you to come with me.” Without further explanation, she turned on her heel and began walking towards her private offices.

Emma fell into step behind her, as she knew was expected, hurrying to catch up before her mother got too far ahead. “Is everything alright, Mom?” she asked after a few moments of walking in a somewhat stilted silence that was far from their usual easy camaraderie.

Her mother didn’t answer immediately, waiting instead until they’d reached her private offices and slipped inside. The queen shut the door behind them and moved over to her desk before responding. When she did, her words were not at all what Emma was expecting, and they caused the bottom to drop out of her stomach.

“Have you been to Two Wolves recently?” her mother asked, shuffling through a few papers on her desk before looking up at her expectantly.

Emma considered – for the briefest of moments – denying it outright, saying that it must have been someone who looked uncannily like her. But she knew that that wouldn’t hold up – particularly if, as it seemed, Queen Mary-Margaret already knew the answer to the question she was asking. Sinking down into one of the plush guest chairs that were placed in front of the desk, Emma nodded. “Yeah…a couple of times,” she muttered. “But you and Dad have never had a problem with it before.”

Her mother sighed. “We don’t have a problem with it now…not exactly. It’s just…it’s a little careless, Emma. The timing is not ideal.”

She sat up straighter in the chair, a wave of indignance flowing over her. She knew that perhaps she hadn’t made the best choice given the political climate of late – and maybe you’re feeling a bit defensive about that, she thought to herself – but she didn’t think it warranted her mother treating her quite so much like a child. “It’s not like I went out clubbing and got blitzed – Two Wolves is just about the safest place I could go, Mom. That’s been true since you were going there when you were my age,” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest and staring up at her mother with determination and a small touch of defiance. She hoped her mother didn’t have any further information about her evenings at the tavern – but just in case, deflecting her attention couldn’t hurt.

“My youthful indiscretions, such as they may be, aren’t the issue right now Emma,” her mother replied calmly, taking a seat behind her desk and sorting through yet another pile of papers until she pulled out a slim manila folder. “You know that this kind of behavior is against protocol – and while your father and I might have been inclined to turn a blind eye in the past-”

“So did Grandma, thankfully, or you might not have met Dad and Leo and I wouldn’t be here right now,” Emma cut in, refusing to feel bad about taking just a small bit of precious time for herself when her mother had done exactly the same thing when she was young.

“Be that as it may,” her mother carried on almost as if Emma hadn’t spoken. “We’ve got to enforce every bit of protocol right now. With Minister Gold picking at us and scrutinizing every choice the monarchy makes we can’t afford to give him any more ammunition for his schemes. So for a while, I am going to need you to put a halt to this kind of adventure,” she said briskly, opening the folder and pushing it across the desk towards Emma. “And, whoever this may be,” she gestured in the direction of the contents of the folder, “it would be best if you ended it for the time being…at least.”

The sinking feeling that had invaded Emma’s stomach at the beginning of the conversation only got worse – it now felt as though her heart were somehow simultaneously in her throat and on the floor somewhere near her shoes. Even before she looked where her mother had pointed, she had a good idea of what she’d see.

Closing her eyes in resignation, she sighed. It was completely stupid of me to think I wasn’t followed that second night. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Even as she reprimanded herself for not suspecting her Cadre guards had caught up and surveilled her on her return trip to the tavern, she bristled at the constraints her royal duties were once again placing on her.

(But all the same, she repeatedly and silently thanked whatever divine influence had kept them hidden – both from photographers and that week’s Cadre detail – when they’d gone to Fair Isle Bay).

All I’d wanted was something normal. Something just for me. Just for once. Looks like I was just fooling myself – God, I’m an idiot. How did I ever think this was going to work?

As she opened her eyes, they landed on a photo in the manila folder – the image was dark, and a bit blurry. If she had to guess, she’d say Lieutenant MacIntosh was the photographer – his handiwork was always a bit unfocused when he took long distance shots at night – but whoever had taken them, the photo was clear enough to show her pressing a kiss to Killian’s cheek before bidding him good night.

The only saving grace was that it was nigh on impossible to tell who Killian was, given the angle and distance of the shot. Even if her chances of seeing him were imploding with every minute that went by, she didn’t want him to get drawn into a messy background investigation by the Cadre for getting so close to her or, worse, pulled into the public eye by Misthaven’s rather voracious paparazzi.

“Emma?” her mother prompted, and she realized that she’d been silently staring at the photo for longer than was probably reasonable. She looked up at her mother, catching the older woman’s eye – her mother’s regal mask slipped for a moment and a flicker of understanding and empathy crossed her face. She smiled softly. “Believe it or not, I do understand the predicament I can sense that you find yourself in right now…but you need to end it. Now. Or at least find a way to pause things until Gold has settled down and backed off. Understood?”

Emma took one more lingering glance at the photo, thoughts of bright sun, warm breezes, and comforting embraces running through her mind. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and nodded. “Understood.”

-/-

“You did what?!” Belle’s incredulous question echoed down the long corridor they’d found themselves in after their class had finished. They were tucked at the end, in an alcove, but her voice had risen enough that if someone were passing by, they’d be overheard. He didn’t immediately respond, simply looked at her for a moment, until she seemed to understand that she hadn’t misheard him. Her eyes widened until they looked impossibly large. “Killian, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sshhhh,” he hissed, making a keep it down gesture with his hands. “In my defense, I didn’t know.”

Belle laughed – it was a sharp sound that seemed to burst from her almost involuntarily. “How could you not know?!”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, not wanting to lash out at one of the only people he felt he could confide in about his predicament. Besides, he understood. If he were in Belle’s position, he’d probably be reacting the same way to hearing this kind of news. “I’ve only been out with her a few times, and she was wearing a bloody disguise – if you’re not actively expecting someone to be doing something like that, it’s a little hard to catch,” he retorted, not entirely successful at keeping the self-loathing edge out of his tone.

The truth of it was, he realized as he spoke, he’d been very free with his heart and he’d not known the woman he’d thought was Anna for very long. Or very well, apparently, he thought with a touch of bitterness. He was angry at the princess for the deception – and at himself for not seeing through it. Observation and deduction were part of his training – he was supposed to be good at them. What kind of Cadre guard would he make if he got fooled as easily as this?

It’s not the same thing, and you know it, his inner voice tried to reason with him. You weren’t on duty, you were just spending time with someone you cared about and who you thought cared about you. You weren’t expected to be on your guard. He didn’t know if he believed his own reasoning, telling himself that a better officer would always be on his guard – but before he could fall further down the rabbit hole of his own internal debate, he realized that Belle was asking him a question.

“I can see your point,” she said, her tone gentling a bit, though Killian felt he didn’t truly deserve her kindness. “But what are you going to do now that you do know?”

He shook his head and exhaled harshly. “I don’t bloody well know, do I?”

Just then, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, but it continued to go off, buzzing three more times in quick succession. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and was startled to see four texts from Anna’s number. He let out a noise of surprise and showed Belle the phone. “Interesting timing,” she murmured. When he made no move to open them, she pointed at the phone. “Aren’t you going to read them? They might help you decide what to do.”

He felt like he was moving underwater as he nodded, everything slowing down as he swiped his thumb across the screen and brought up the message string he’d been sharing with Anna. Emma, he mentally corrected. The princess.

Killian, I’m so sorry to be doing this at all, but especially in a text.

I got news very suddenly, a family emergency – I have to go up north for a while.

I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to come back. I’ve enjoyed our time together more than you will ever know, but it’s not fair to ask you to wait around for me.

I’ll treasure these few weeks forever…goodbye, Killian.

He stared at his phone, disbelieving this latest turn of events, for so long that Belle finally jerked him back to the present moment with a gentle shove to the shoulder. “Well?” she asked expectantly.

“Here,” he mumbled, thrusting the phone into her hand so she could read the messages for herself. He scrubbed both hands over his face and back into his hair, trying to think of anything but the way that the princess’ fingers had felt as they’d traced the back of his neck, or the warmth of her as her mouth had opened easily under his. He wanted to hold onto the anger he’d felt at her deception, but her texts had reeked of sadness and he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same.

Despite all the things they’d kept from each other, what they’d felt for each other was real. They’d each seen the truth of the other’s heart underneath everything else – he was sure of it. But he didn’t have any idea what to do about it now. He just felt hollow and tired.

“Well,” Belle said when she finished reading the messages. “I guess that answers that.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he agreed.

“It still sucks though,” she said, slipping her arm through his and pulling him down the corridor in the direction of the mess hall. He’d been so engrossed in his revelation and subsequent meltdown he’d not realized they’d almost missed their chance at lunch.

“Yeah, it really does.”

-/-

In the week that had passed since Emma had, effectively, put an end to things with Killian via text, she’d been fairly miserable – and that had been putting it mildly.

The depth of her disappointment had taken her by surprise – she’d only gone on a few dates with him, after all. They’d barely begun to be something, but so abruptly losing even the possibility of figuring out what they could have been still hurt.

Even if you have no idea if you could have made it work once you’d revealed who you were, it still would have been nice to have the chance to figure that out on your own, she thought to herself bitterly. She was angry with Minister Gold for his ridiculous political intrigues and irritated with her mother for bowing – even temporarily – to the pressure he was putting on the monarchy. But most of all, she was upset with herself for putting herself in this position in the first place. She knew better than anyone the pitfalls of opening your heart up too soon.

This isn’t like that, she chastised herself. Killian didn’t turn out to be some foreign diplomat’s secretly skeezy son only looking for a good time with ‘rebellious royalty,’ and he isn’t a self-important Duke who just wanted to use my title to advance his own social status.

As she thought of her unfortunate prior romances – if you could have even called them that – she continued to argue with herself about whether trusting Killian, and starting to have real feelings for him, had been a mistake.

Even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter, she realized. It’s not like you’re ever likely to see him again.

After a couple of days of wandering around the palace, thinking over the same internal argument again and again, she decided that the best thing she could possibly do would be to get away for a little while. She decided to go to Glowerhaven. It was north of Misthaven – at least then your messages to Killian would be less of a lie, she thought – and spend a few days at her grandmother Ruth’s country estate. It would do her some good to get away from the city, and she always enjoyed the chance to spend some time with her grandmother in the place where her father had grown up. If anyone could put her current predicament into perspective and give her some much needed good advice, her grandmother would be able to.

With one last thought spared for what might have been, she retreated to her rooms to call her grandmother and pack.

-/-

Killian didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous in his life.

Even when he’d been waiting to find out if he’d gotten into the Naval Academy and if he’d be able to join Liam in the service he’d not been this twisted up inside.

But when the morning of the Cadre Installation Ceremony arrived, and there had been no further word from the Princess after her texts ending the whatever it was that had been brewing between them, Killian realized that he’d stalled for as long as he possibly could on deciding how to handle the little matter of having secretly dated the Crown Princess for a few weeks.

(And snogged the hell out of her on a hillside in Fair Isle Bay, but no one else would learn about that anytime soon – or ever – if he could help it).

When he’d had the realization in the middle of surveillance training that his mysterious “Anna” was actually Princess Emma, his first impulse had been to confess absolutely everything to the officer in command of all Initiates and throw himself on the mercy of his superiors. Belle, however, had convinced him that he should keep quiet about it – at least for the time being. He cast his memory back over the rest of the conversation they’d had that day the week before when everything had gone sideways.

“Listen,” she’d said, a determined look crossing her face. “As far as we know, the only three people who know about this are you, me, and the Princess, correct?”

“Yeah,” Killian nodded, his shoulders slumping as the weight of everything that he’d done settled over him – even though he’d been unaware of “Anna’s” real identity, he still felt a responsibility for what had happened. He should have been more aware, been more on his guard – despite Belle’s protestations to the contrary. “Well, and the entire corps of Cadre Initiates who saw Lieutenant Dulac’s presentation just now,” he continued, a weary resignation creeping into his tone.

“Ah ah ah, no,” Belle said, pointing her finger in his direction with each syllable she uttered. “They know the Princess was with someone – not that it was you.”

“I fail to see how that’s going to help me in the long run,” he retorted. “Despite what Dulac thinks, someone will probably be able to clean up that image enough for facial rec, and even if not, Emma knows and she’s going to have me booted out of the Cadre – if not out of the military altogether – the next instant she lays eyes on me. You want to be entertained by the sight of me being hauled away by the palace guards? Just wait for the Cadre Installation and you’ll see.”

Belle shook her head decisively before he’d even finished speaking. “I don’t think so, Killian. I think you’re reading the situation the wrong way round – she’s not going to want to say anything about it any more than you do.”

Killian wasn’t sure about that – he wasn’t sure about much of anything at the moment – but the stress of the situation was making him blank out on finding a solution, and he trusted Belle. He nodded for her to continue. “Why d’you think that?” he asked, a seed of optimism cautiously taking root in his gut. Belle seemed so certain of everything – he could only hope that that confidence came from some viable insight into how to fix this mess.

She sighed, moving off to his side so that another group of Cadre Initiates could pass by them as they made their way out of the mess hall. She waited until they were out of earshot to turn back to him, diving right back into their conversation as though there had never been a pause. “Because,” she said firmly, “if she did anything to get you kicked out of the Cadre, she’d have to attest to why…and she’s not going to want to admit that she was sneaking out of the palace to run around with a strange man-”

“Oi!”

“-in downtown Spero all the while intentionally trying to evade her guard detail. It would be difficult enough for her to admit to that kind of recklessness under any circumstances, but now? With Minister Gold scrutinizing everything the royal family’s doing – trying to make some case for changing the order of succession or some other nonsense – she’s really going to be following protocol to the letter, and she’s going to want to give off the appearance that she’s always done just exactly that. So…do you see why she wouldn’t say anything about you to anyone?”

After a moment of thought, Killian nodded slowly. It was a slim chance, but it was better than nothing – admitting his entanglement with the Princess would be a sure way to get kicked out of the Cadre, and losing the chance to be part of this elite group was simply not an option. Saying nothing and hoping that Belle’s assessment of the Princess’ mindset was correct was a bit dicey – it didn’t give him the chance to get out ahead of the story if it ever did come out – but he couldn’t see any other way to proceed. At least this way, he’d have a chance of things working out in his favor – a small one, to be sure, but that was better than nothing.

Killian snapped his attention back to the present when a trumpet flourish sounded and the heavy doors at the opposite end of the throne room were pulled open. Queen Mary-Margaret and King David entered, following a few steps behind by Princess Emma. They proceeded to the raised dais at the front of the room and stood facing the row of soldiers and sailors who awaited them – the nine new Cadre Initiates and three training officers – all in their dress uniforms, pressed and polished to a shine.

He knew the precise moment during the installation ceremony when the Princess became aware of him. Her gaze landed on him while her mother was giving a speech of welcome to the group and when their eyes caught, Emma’s widened noticeably and her entire posture went rigid. She looked away almost immediately, and though Killian kept his gaze on her for quite some time – until he was forced to turn his attentions back to the ceremony for their individual inductions into the Cadre – she never looked at him again.

He’d known that this was the likely outcome – in fact, it pointed to Belle’s being right about how the Princess would react to the entire situation – and yet his heart sank. This should have been one of the best days of his career, and, to tell the truth, he was still ecstatic about officially joining the Cadre – but what should have been a purely happy day now had something of a cloud hanging over it. He didn’t know until precisely that moment how much he’d still been hoping that she’d look at him the way she had that day in Fair Isle Bay. The fact that she couldn’t bear to look at him at all made him feel like a knife was twisting in his gut.

If this was how it was going to be, it was going to be a long three years.

-/-

For the next week, they barely saw each other.

After the installation ceremony, Emma’s first guard detail had been a friendly, sandy-haired army captain named Robin Locksley and a quieter, more reserved air force flight lieutenant named Mulan Fa. Emma had breathed an internal sigh of relief when Killian hadn’t been immediately assigned to her detail, though an almost equal pang of disappointment had twisted in her gut.

Make up your mind, Emma – you either want to see him or you don’t. Either you’re angry at him for hiding who he was or you understand since you did the same thing. You miss him or you can’t deal with being around him. Pick a damn feeling and at least try to stick to it, she chastised herself. All this emotional back and forth isn’t getting you anywhere productive, and it’s absolutely exhausting.

But despite giving herself several rather stern pep talks over the course of the past week, she hadn’t been able to figure out what to do about this thing with Killian other than just make herself scarce and avoid him whenever possible. Even though he wasn’t on her personal detail, she still did see other members of the Cadre from time to time in the palace – she simply learned which detail he was on and crossed paths with it as little as possible.

Very mature, Emma. Real leadership material you are if you can’t even take charge of your own love live, barely existent though it is.

Rolling her eyes at her own inner monologue, she stepped out from underneath one of the porticos that ringed a small courtyard on the residence wing of the palace. It was one of her favorite places in the entire royal dwelling because of the fountain and the small row of rosebushes tucked at one end of the neatly trimmed green lawn. They were abloom with a pale pink variety of rose that had some complicated Latin name, but that the people of Misthaven had long ago dubbed “the Middlemist.” They were Emma’s favorite flower, and this spot – part of the palace, but still semi-secluded – was often the place where she’d go to get time alone when she needed to think.

This morning, she was supposed to meet her new detail – since the guard details changed weekly – and then head out for her daily morning run in the royal park. It was something she was really looking forward to – her morning exercise routine was usually the only time she got during the day where she could fully clear her head. Her detail was usually already there when she came to the courtyard, so she was more than a bit surprised not to see anyone when she arrived there that morning.

Checking her watch, she saw that it was only a few minutes past the time when she was meant to meet them, and decided to stretch while she waited. If they weren’t here by the time she finished, she’d have to go and let someone know, but with the new Cadre so recently installed, she didn’t want to have to get anyone in trouble for something so insignificant.

After a few quiet moments of stretching and planning her route for that morning’s run, she heard footsteps and muffled voices at the other end of the portico. She straightened up and glanced in the direction of the noise, and it suddenly became crystal clear why her guard detail had been late that morning.

A petite, dark-haired woman who Emma was fairly sure was an army lieutenant – though she was a bit fuzzy on the woman’s name – stood next to one of the portico’s columns, dressed in running clothes and doing her own stretches. She was – very pointedly – not looking at the other member of Emma’s new detail for the week, but Emma herself couldn’t look away.

It was Killian.

Of course it was Killian.

Because, clearly, the universe hated her and she couldn’t catch a break.

They stood there for a moment, an awkward silence billowing between them, before Emma shook her head as if to clear it. Addressing them both, but looking more directly at the woman, Emma said the first thing that came into her mind. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but can you remind me of your name, please? The installation ceremony was a bit of a blur.”

The other woman smiled softly and bobbed her head in a brief nod. “Understood, your highness. Lieutenant Belle French, Royal Misthaven Army, and this,” she gestured to Killian, “is Lieutenant Killian Jones, Misthaven Royal Navy.” Emma’s eyes flicked over to Killian and he nodded at her as well, but unlike when Belle had done it, the motion seemed stiff and slow. He continued to gaze at her intently – the blue of his eyes boring into hers as though he wanted to say something to her, but didn’t quite know the right words to use.

I know exactly how you feel, she thought grimly.

“Are you ready, your highness?” Belle asked, pointing towards the end of the courtyard nearest to the exit they would need to take to get outside of the palace walls and into the royal park.

“Um, yeah…yes, I guess,” Emma replied, before a thought occurred to her. “But why are you both dressed like that?” she pointed towards the workout gear that Belle and Killian were both sporting. “Usually, I run and my detail follows a little bit behind in a golf cart.”

Belle and Killian looked at each other for a moment, before Killian turned back to her, his face serious. “We know…your highness,” he said, and hearing his voice directed at her for the first time in weeks caused a traitorous swooping sensation to spring to life in Emma’s stomach. She tried to tamp it down as she listened to what he was saying. “But Lieutenant French and I thought it might be beneficial to try something a bit different.”

He paused expectantly, and she nodded for him to continue.

“Well, we think we should run with you your highness. One of us out in front and one just behind – it keeps us closer to you, should any threat surface, and lets us respond more quickly. We’ll have means of contacting the rest of the Cadre should there be a need, and, of course, we’ll be armed.”

It made perfect sense – though none of Emma’s previous details had ever taken the time or initiative to think of it. They’d always just used the cart and carried on with the task exactly as it had been done before. She thought about it carefully for a moment. On the one hand, it would be very awkward to go running with Killian (and Belle – her mind supplied helpfully – which could make things even more awkward) after everything that had happened – on the other, if she were being honest, she missed him. Besides, the idea made too much sense to disagree with.

Nodding, she turned and headed for the exit Belle had previously indicated. “Sounds fine to me,” she tossed back over her shoulder in an attempt to keep her inner turmoil over the entire exchange concealed – now is not the time to deal with what happened between us, she reminded herself. She moved quickly, itching to just be outside and underway. “Just try to keep up, okay? I like a certain pace.”

-/-

The first part of the run sped by in uneventful silence.

Belle – the traitor, Killian thought mutinously – had taken the advance position. Her discreet, grey and black patterned running outfit was visible about ten yards ahead of where the princess was keeping a steady, but not punishing, speed. He was close behind the princess, only about three feet back, and he’d been making a valiant effort not to let his eyes skim down to where her leggings clung sinfully to her trim form. It was extremely difficult – in no small part because he remembered what it felt like to hold her, and to have her lithe hips pressed into his as she maneuvered herself closer and urged him to wrap his arms around her more tightly – but instead, he watched her sleek ponytail swing back and forth for a few strides before tearing his attention away to scan the countryside. Nothing seemed amiss, but one could never be too careful – that’s literally why he and Belle were present.

After roughly twenty minutes, though, the princess broke the quiet hush that had fallen between them. Though she was just far enough ahead of him, and had spoken softly enough, that he had a bit of trouble making out what she’d said.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, finally tearing his gaze away from scrutinizing the expanse of low, rolling hills that faded off to their right and speeding up slightly to fall into step beside her.

After a brief pause during which the princess continued to stare straight ahead and Killian began to think he’d hallucinated her ever speaking to him, she repeated herself. “I’d imagine you have questions,” she said, her tone surprisingly matter-of-fact given the situation they’d found themselves in, and he couldn’t help but allow a snort of surprise to escape him.

“I might,” he replied swiftly, trying to keep his tone light, though he felt a bit taken aback that she was actually addressing – even obliquely – what had passed between them over the last several weeks.

“Well, go ahead and ask, then,” she said, a touch of tartness creeping into her voice. “I can feel you staring at the back of my head as we’ve been running – it’s incredibly distracting.”

They continued for the space of a couple of heartbeats in near total silence before he found his voice. She’s giving you an opening – you might not get another one, and you have to know, he told himself while looking off to the other side of the path to examine the area for any unexpected threats. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just start with the thing he was most curious about. “Did you know I was in the Cadre? Did you know who I was?”

He was watching her carefully when she responded. The shake of her head was almost immediate. “No,” she replied, her breaths coming a bit faster as they picked up their pace a bit. “My mother and father always pick the new Cadre Initiates, in consultation with the Privy Council only. The full names aren’t shared with anyone in the palace, not even me, until the installation ceremony.”

Killian thought over the newspaper article that had come out at the start of training, and what he knew of the Cadre’s privacy policy in relation to the general public. It made sense, he just was a bit surprised that the same thing went on inside the palace walls. “I see,” he murmured, pondering what that might imply about the princess’ actions towards him.

“Yeah,” she said, more than a hint of bitterness in her voice. “It’s tradition that only the King, Queen, and council may choose – just another case of clinging to the old ways even though it’s the twenty-first century.”

He couldn’t help it – he chuckled a bit at that. Her fire now reminding him of when he’d thought she was Anna and that day at Fair Isle Bay – her desperation to find her own way, and the intense way she’d looked at him when he’d told her he’d believed in her, were being echoed in the here and now. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to realize that maybe there was some of that spark still between them even though their circumstances had changed so radically since they’d last had time together one on one.

But she seemed to take his laughter the wrong way, looking at him sharply and biting out a question of her own. “How about you? Did you know who I was? Were you thinking that you were so smart, seeing past my disguise and having a bit of fun with the princess when no one else knew?”

Killian felt as if the breath had been knocked from him, but was opening his mouth to answer – though, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he would have said – when she leveled yet another pointed question at him.

“And if you did know, were you going to…” here she seemed to falter for a moment, but she regrouped, steeling her expression as she turned to look at him. “Were you going to do something with that information?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, partly insulted by the insinuation but even more than that, he was shocked that she could think that he was capable of something like that. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together, it was true, but he’d believed that in that short time they had truly known one another.

Apparently not.

“Your highness, if you are implying that I was intending to blackmail you in some way,” he replied, his words clipped, “I must assure you most vehemently that I was not.” She’d stopped running a moment after he had, and he quickly closed the small distance that had opened up between them. “We might not each have known who the other really was, but I know that what I was starting to feel was real. I had thought – I’d hoped – that you’d felt the same.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open but she said nothing for a long moment. When she finally found her voice, she’d barely breathed a remorseful-sounding “Killian,” before he cut her off. He needed to step away before he completely imploded and said something he’d regret.

“If you’ll excuse me, your highness, since we’ve stopped I’m going to take the opportunity to switch out positions with Lieutenant French. She’ll be with you in a moment and I’ll take point up front until we return to the palace.” He inclined his head automatically – the training to show respect to the royal family still deeply ingrained even though his own personal feelings were in complete turmoil – before stepping away and jogging up to where Belle was waiting.

Though his better sense knew that Emma wouldn’t call after him, it still stung a bit that she didn’t.

-/-

She watched him cover the short distance up the road to where Lieutenant French had paused, unable to hear what they were saying and grateful for the few moments alone – before the other Lieutenant reached her, she needed to have pulled herself together.

What had she been thinking, practically accusing Killian of setting her up for blackmail? He was right – she might not have known everything about him during their short time together, but she did know what kind of person he was, and it wasn’t the sort who would sell someone out for their own gain. He wanted to earn everything he was given, and his code of honor was far too strong. With a sharp pang of longing, she remembered teasing him about what he’d called his “good form” during one of their earlier conversations.

You should have known better, Emma, she chided herself. Though, really, that seems to be true of everything you’ve done lately.

She knew she was careful, guarded – the paparazzi had dubbed her Misthaven’s “Prickly Princess” for her notoriously tough attitude – but she’d had to be. One mistake, and the court of public opinion would eat her alive, and by extension, have ammunition to use against her family – which could then be picked up by opposition politicians and used to leverage anti-royal sentiment in the parliament and Privy Council.

She’d learned that the hard way several years ago when the son of a visiting dignitary had seemed to take an interest in her. She was young and – though she hated to admit it – more naïve than she was now. He was a few years older than she was, and he’d seemed charming, experienced, exciting. She’d thought he’d been serious about her, that he’d actually wanted to get to know her, and so she’d let him woo her a bit – gone on a few public dates with him, which had all been fine and respectable and aboveboard. Her parents had been cautious, but as nothing had seemed amiss, they hadn’t objected when she’d wanted to keep seeing him. They’d stolen a bit of time together every time he’d accompanied his father when the older man traveled to Misthaven on political business, and he’d even flown in a few times just to spend time with her.

But then, after dinner one evening in the restaurant of one of Spero’s best hotels, he’d gotten on the wrong side of tipsy and tried to take her up to a room he’d rented. She’d not been ready for that step in their relationship and his rather aggressive attempts to change her mind had been ended quite abruptly. He’d proven himself to be either brazen, an idiot, or both, because her Cadre detail had been surveilling from a discreet distance but were still there, witnesses to everything that happened. But when he’d grabbed her by the arm and attempted to haul her into the hotel elevator, the Cadre guards hadn’t even had time to intervene before Emma had taken matters into her own hands – in a manner of speaking.

It was a very good thing that all the paparazzi photos had been confiscated immediately by the crown. It would have been an extreme scandal, after all, for the Princess of Misthaven to have been photographed kneeing her otherwise well-esteemed date in the crotch. Her parents, backed by the most trusted members of the palace staff, had made absolutely sure that every copy of every photo – along with every digital file and print negative – disappeared.

But despite their best efforts, when her former suitor and his father were suddenly persona non grata at the palace, the story had come out – even if not in full detail. The palace’s official press statement had given just the bare bones, and kept the focus on Emma’s companion’s bad behavior and downplayed their budding relationship as much as possible. There had been whispers of the more salacious details of that final date – rumors, nothing of substance, but just enough to fuel the tabloids. They’d run headlines like “Royal Rebel” and “The Highness’ Hijinks.” The scandal had been fairly limited, and had blown over quickly, but it had given just enough material to the opposition party at the time to create difficulties between her parents and certain members of the Privy Council.

That was difficult enough for the royal family to deal with, but what was far worse for Emma was feeling like she’d let her parents down. They’d assured her that it wasn’t her fault, and had nothing but anger and disdain for the former object of her affections. They placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, but Emma saw herself as responsible for letting him fool her into thinking he’d cared in the first place and had retreated into herself for a long time, becoming the “Prickly Princess” instead of the “Royal Rebel.”

Until Killian, her thoughts traitorously reminded her. He got right through those walls of yours without even trying at all.

She swiped away the frustrated tears that had slipped from her eyes after he’d walked away, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in an attempt to pull herself together. She was mostly composed by the time Lieutenant French joined her, but the other woman still regarded her quietly for a moment when she stepped into place next to Emma.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” she asked politely, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble while waiting for Emma’s response.

“Fine,” Emma managed, though her voice sounded rough and choked up to her own ears – Lieutenant French must have heard it too, for her attention quickly snapped back to Emma, her eyes sharp and her mouth pulling into a tight line, but she made no comment.

“As you say, miss. Do you wish to continue or turn back?” she asked, her tone slightly flatter than it had been a moment earlier, as if her thoughts were elsewhere – or, perhaps, as though she’d judged Emma and found her lacking somehow. The idea was disconcerting and Emma wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Uh, um…let’s go just around the next loop,” Emma said, gesturing towards the road beyond where Killian now stood. It twisted through Emma’s favorite section of the royal park before turning back to connect with the road they were currently on at a point that was closer to the palace. She hoped running in one of her most loved places would soothe her, but she wasn’t too optimistic.

“Yes, miss.” Lieutenant French replied in that same flat tone before signaling to Killian, who set off at a jog before slowly picking up the pace. They fell in step behind him, Lieutenant French keeping up with Emma easily as they regained their earlier speed.

For a few moments, the two women ran together in an awkward silence. Somehow, Emma thought, it was even moreso than the one she’d just been sharing with Killian before their fight. After several minutes of this, Emma found she couldn’t take it anymore. “Lieutenant, can I ask you something and will you answer me honestly?”

“Of course, miss,” came the immediate and brusque reply, though the lieutenant didn’t look in Emma’s direction.

“How well do you know Lieutenant Jones?” she asked as quietly as she could, given that she was mid run and didn’t want to break stride again.

Lieutenant French’s head turned swiftly in Emma’s direction, the woman’s gaze catching Emma’s own briefly before she turned back and focused on the road. “We were training partners, and now we’re detailed together, miss.” She said before glancing back at Emma again with a hesitant look on her face. She seemed to want to continue, but didn’t move to speak, so Emma gestured for her to go on. “But, what I think you’re really asking me is…what kind of person is he?”

Emma nodded, taking her own turn to stare down the road and avoid her companion’s gaze.

Lieutenant French remained quiet for another moment before speaking softly yet intensely. “He’s honorable and kind. Brilliant and funny. Everything a good officer and a good person should be,” she waited for Emma to look back at her before she continued. “I trust him completely, and you can too,” she said. “Is that what you wanted to know, miss?”

Breathing hard, and not just from the exertion of their run, Emma managed another nod.

They ran the entire rest of the way back to the palace in silence.

-/-

Emma went straight to her rooms immediately after they returned to the palace – she took a shower and pulled on her most comfortable pair of pajamas, curling up among the soft pillows on her still-made bed. She knew she should put in an appearance at dinner – there were no formal state events on the calendar for the evening, but her parents still expected her to dine with them in the private family dining room – but she wasn’t hungry and she couldn’t bring herself to go down and go through the motions of acting like nothing was wrong.

So she called Elsa and asked her to send word to her parents that she was tired and that she’d be having dinner in her rooms that evening, and that she’d call the kitchens herself if and when she was ready to eat anything. After hanging up, she sank further down into her pillows and drifted into a haze of memories. She mentally sifted through everything that had led her to this current moment – all of her interactions with Killian, certainly, but everything else as well. Her romance with that diplomat’s son, her habit of sneaking out and visiting Two Wolves incognito from time to time, the whole “Prickly Princess” reputation, Minister Gold’s latest power-hungry schemes, and the deep desire she had to carve her own path and be more than a royal figurehead. She wanted to be able to lead her people in a way that would truly make a difference to them, but – given Misthaven’s somewhat traditional stance on “appropriate” roles for a Princess to play in matters of state – she wasn’t sure how to begin, or even if she’d be able to.

She wasn’t really aware of time passing, lost in her thoughts as she was, until a soft knock pulled her out of her reverie. She sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears and leaning back against the small mountain of pillows behind her. “Come in,” she called, a bit surprised by how scratchy her voice sounded.

The door swung open slowly and her mother’s head peeked through the gap. Concern flickered across the queen’s features when she took in Emma’s rumpled state, and she quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” she asked as she came over to sit on the edge of the bed near Emma’s feet.

Emma sighed, a somewhat nasal sound. Must be left over from crying earlier. “That seems to be the question of the day,” she muttered.

The queen quirked a curious eyebrow in Emma’s direction, her gaze so penetrating that it seemed to peer directly into Emma’s heart, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. They were quiet for a moment – Emma making at least an attempt to pull herself together and look a little more composed – before the queen spoke. “This is about that young man, I’d gather. The one in the photographs?” It sounded like a question, but Emma knew that it wasn’t.

She nodded anyway. “Yes,” she murmured, her gaze shifting down to where her hands were playing with the edge of her duvet. “I know you told me to end it…and I did…but…” she trailed off, searching for the right words to explain. “I just…” she petered out again, emotions choking her and rendering her unable to speak until her mother’s fingers laced with her own and squeezed tightly.

She looked up, finding the queen’s gaze and seeing no trace of the formal monarch, but only her mother – the woman who’d hugged her tight whenever she was hurt or upset as a child, who’d always encouraged her to follow her dreams, who was perhaps the only other person Emma knew who had experienced the pull between public duty and private emotions in quite the same way. She wasn’t sure if it was the wisest idea to tell her mother all the details about Killian – she wasn’t sure how the queen would react, especially since she’d not seemed keen on Emma seeing someone when the surveillance photos had surfaced – but she had to tell someone. She couldn’t take bottling everything up anymore.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stop talking – the entire tale spilled out easily. The feelings of frustration at Gold’s latest political intrigue, her hopes to do something meaningful with her position and despair that she might never really be allowed to, sneaking out to Two Wolves, meeting Killian, being charmed unexpectedly, getting to know him better over the last several weeks (though she thought it prudent to leave out the mind-boggling kisses from their picnic), then breaking it off only to find out he was part of the Cadre. She told her mother everything, all the way up to their fight earlier in the day, and when she’d finished she felt oddly better and lighter. A calm settled over her – no matter what happened next, at least she’d been honest with herself about all of her feelings.

The queen was quiet for the space of several heartbeats, and Emma cautiously raised her eyes to meet her mother’s gaze, unsure of what she’d see. The look of compassion and understanding that was shining back at her was an incredible relief for Emma – also a bit of a surprise, if she were being honest.

“Oh, Emma,” her mother started, her voice clearly laced with deep emotion. “I’m so sorry that you ever felt as though you didn’t have a place in leading Misthaven – your father and I have been so focused on strategizing how best to hold our own against the more aggressive members of the council and the more discontented factions in parliament, that I fear we’ve fallen back on relying only on each other out of habit.”

“It’s alright, Mom, I understand,” Emma murmured – and, on some level, she did. She’d been raised on the stories of her parents’ epic love match and brilliant political partnership. The most memorable tale had been the one in which they’d defeated a coup attempt shortly after their wedding. It was a sometimes daunting legacy to live up to.

“No, my darling girl, it’s not – and you shouldn’t have to.” Her mother leaned closer and brushed a strand of Emma’s hair back behind her ear before cupping Emma’s cheek with her free hand. “We’ve been so wrapped up in handling current issues the way we would have in the past, that we haven’t been thinking of the future – of you – as much as we should have. We’ll be fixing that immediately.”

“Really?” Emma asked, a note of hope creeping into her voice. “I have so many ideas-”

“And your father and I would love to hear them,” her mother replied. “I’ll clear our calendars tomorrow morning and we’ll start the conversation, alright?”

Emma nodded, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Absolutely.”

“Now, as to the other matter,” the queen said briskly. “We need to discuss what to do about-”

“Killian,” Emma finished for her mother. She chuckled dryly, a sound with no humor in it. “I didn’t think that anything could be worse than what happened the last time I let myself open up to someone – at least there were no paparazzi this time around, or else it would’ve been an even bigger mess.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened with that diplomat’s son, sweetheart,” her mother said firmly. “He was an entitled, arrogant braggart who brought every bit of that shame on himself, and, frankly, I’d probably have kneed him even harder than you did if I’d been in your position. I really wanted to do it anyhow,” she finished matter-of-factly.

“Thanks, Mom,” Emma said, a small smile finally causing the corners of her mouth to twitch upwards – it was a very brief thing, but it made her feel better nonetheless. “But as I told you that night, I still contend he kneed himself in the balls.”

The two women stared unblinkingly at each other for a moment before both breaking out into soft, but uncontrollable, laughter. “That should have been the official press statement,” chuckled the queen. “Why didn’t we think of that at the time?”

Emma shrugged. “Don’t know,” she replied with a laugh before her current predicament sobered her mood once again. She squeezed the hand that still held her mother’s. “But it doesn’t really help me to figure out what I do now.”

The queen regarded her for a few moments, and though Emma’d tried to guess at exactly what her mother might say, she wasn’t able to predict the words that the queen actually uttered in that moment. “Emma, you’re the only one who can make that choice.”

“But what about the council’s reaction? And Gold? And-”

“Sweetheart,” her mother said firmly, now squeezing Emma’s hand in return. “None of that matters. The only important thing is how you feel. I know now that the burdens of your royal position have been weighing on you rather keenly lately – and I am so very sorry that I hadn’t realized how much – but nothing that’s going on with that changes anything about this. What’s important is what you want.”

“I want to fix things with him, but I don’t know how,” Emma murmured, slightly stunned at the fact that her mother seemed to be advocating for her pursuing some sort of relationship with Killian. Not that there is a relationship to advocate for right now, given the way that we left things the last time we saw each other she thought regretfully, flashes of their fight replaying themselves in her mind.

“Oh, I have no doubt that you can,” her mother said, a note of mischief entering her voice. “If he’s half as taken with you as you are with him – and given what you’ve told me, I think he is – I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Emma shook her head slowly, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her mother wasn’t more concerned. She’d expected more skepticism, or caution, or something – not this rather unabashed positivity and upbeat attitude. She’d thought she’d have to work a lot harder to convince her mother that a relationship with Kilian was a good idea, and the fact that the queen had gotten on board so quickly was kind of throwing Emma off-kilter. “I don’t know…it’s going to be really complicated. Maybe it’s simpler to just let it go.”

Her mother shook her head decisively. “It is simpler to do that, but that doesn’t mean it’s better, sweetheart. Anything worth having – really worth having – must be fought for. And you, my dear, have always been a fighter. Besides, fighting for love is the most worthwhile thing of all.”

She sat up straight, nearly dislodging several of her pillows with the sudden speed of her movements. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mom. Who said anything about love? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?”

“Not really.” The queen leveled a knowing look at Emma, squeezing her hand once more before letting go and standing up. “Not if those surveillance photos are anything to go by, at any rate.”

Emma sat speechless as her mother brushed off her skirt and headed across the room. The queen had swung open the door and was about to step through when Emma finally found her voice. “You’re not worried I’m making a bad decision?”

Her mother shook her head and turned around, locking eyes with Emma when she did. “Emma, one of the things I’ve always admired about you is your instincts and how they lead you to make good decisions – most of the time, at least,” she said with a teasing arch of her eyebrows. “Trust your gut – listen to what it’s telling you. You’ll do the right thing for you, and whatever that is, your father and I will support it,” she promised, turning and stepping out of the room.

“You don’t think Dad will object?” Emma asked incredulously. “He took the last guy I was even remotely interested in down to see the royal armory and made vaguely menacing comments to him the whole time! I never heard from the guy after that! And what about the council?!”

Emma was still staring at the quickly closing door when it suddenly swung back open part of the way and her mother’s head popped back into view. “I’ll handle your father, don’t you worry. And don’t you worry about the council – your father and I have just figured out a few things that should put a halt to Gold’s machinations for the foreseeable future. Now,” she paused and pointed a finger at Emma as if to underline her final point. “You just try to be discreet while the lieutenant is finishing his Cadre cycle – I’m not saying put a halt to…things…” at this, she thought her mother blushed slightly before recovering. “…just try your best to keep the press from getting too interested in you both as a story, alright?”

Emma nodded. “I think I can manage that,” she said, a small seed of optimism taking root, despite her very real worry that Killian wouldn’t forgive her.

“Oh, and one more thing,” her mother said casually as she turned again and began to leave once more. “I meant what I said about the way you make decisions, Emma, but don’t forget, proposed Cadre Initiates each receive a thorough background check as part of their selection process. Your father and I have read enough about your Lieutenant Jones to know he’s as honorable as they come. I think I can speak for us both when I say the only concern we’d have would be if he’d care well for your heart.”

“He would,” Emma said softly, but with conviction, the tears from earlier threatening to make a reappearance. “That is, I haven’t ruined things between us.”

Her mother shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Emma to try to process everything that had just happened. She couldn’t deny that she felt better than she had when she’d initially come back to her rooms, but everything she’d been sure of had just been turned upside down yet again. Her mind was whirling and she was torn between thinking about which of her plans and projects she wanted to cover with her parents during their strategy session the following morning and trying to come up with a way to fix things with Killian.

An idea for the latter began to take hold in her mind – it was a simple plan, so hopefully it would have the best chance of working. A grin spread across her face slowly.

Now she just had to wait for the perfect moment to set it all in motion.

-/-

Three days.

It had been three bloody days since he’d fought with Emma – with the Princess, he mentally corrected himself – and continuing on her detail had been nothing short of torturous. They’d been near each other constantly over the past several days, but without any opportunity to speak to each other beyond basic pleasantries.

Though you’ve got no idea what you’d say to her anyway, so maybe that’s for the best, he thought, a frown stealing across his face in response to that realization.

The princess had been extremely busy in the last three days – starting with a meeting with her parents the morning after their fight. When the door to the queen’s private rooms had opened after the meeting, he’d been sure that he was about to be dismissed – the king was looking at him with thinly veiled suspicion, he’d been sure of it. But the queen seemed to be regarding him with an inexplicably fond look, before she’d threaded her arm through her husband’s and drawn him away down the corridor. Emma had flicked the briefest of looks in his direction before she’d taken off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction and he and Belle had fallen into step behind her.

Since then, Emma’d been embroiled in a succession of meetings and other palace business practically non-stop. In her few free moments, she’d been eating, sleeping, or deeply engrossed in research – though on what, he couldn’t say. It had made the idea of approaching her to apologize for his behavior very difficult to put into practice, and the further they’d gotten from their fight, the harder it was to bring it up again at all. Not to mention that she’d been so busy that she’d been skipping her morning run, eliminating one of the best opportunities for him to speak to her alone.

They’d settled into a sort of uneasy half-truce, or at least that’s what it felt like to him, where they didn’t really avoid each other – though given that he was assigned to her detail, she couldn’t very well avoid him altogether – but they didn’t interact very much unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which is why hearing her voice at nearly midnight, coming from the shadowed expanse of the courtyard to his left, was a bit of a surprise.

“Killian?” her voice calling his name floated towards him out of the near-total darkness. “Can you…can you come here…please?”

He hesitated a moment before stepping onto the grass, recognizing it as the same space where he and Belle had met Emma the morning of their fateful running session. She was seated at the far end with one leg tucked underneath her on a low, raised stone wall that encircled a small fountain. In the corner, near a line of Middlemist bushes, an old hanging lantern that had been retrofitted for electricity dimly illuminated that she was playing absently with the cuff of her left sleeve as he approached.

She looked up at him as he drew closer and opened her mouth to speak – but suddenly, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear whatever it was she had to say. “Princess, I do hope you’re having a delightful evening,” he began, falling back on hyper-formality to cover the insecurity that had flared to life in his gut. “But if you’re not in need of anything, I’m going to go consult with Lieutenant French about a few matters.”

He’d taken only a couple of steps towards the covered portico that ran along one side of the courtyard before Emma’s voice brought him up short. “You can’t.”

“Pardon?” he sputtered, his reply far less eloquent than he’d have preferred. “Why not?” he asked – he couldn’t think of a single reason Emma would have for barring him from speaking with the other member of his detail.

Emma stood up and crossed the grass to where he was standing. She looked up at him, her beautifully green eyes seeming even larger when they caught and reflected the moonlight. “She’s not here – I sent her back to Lieutenant Humbert to make the nightly report.”

“She agreed to leave you alone?” He knew that they were on the palace grounds, and there were likely no immediate threats to the princess’ safety, but he was still stunned that the normally rule-abiding Belle would have broken protocol so blatantly.

“I insisted, and I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be,” Emma said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I knew you’d be along shortly for shift change, and I wanted to speak with you alone.”

“Oh?” Killian’s pulse kicked up a notch and the sense of trepidation he’d been keeping at bay for the last several days increased. Perhaps he was going to be dismissed, and the princess just wanted to do it herself. He kept his face impassive and his words formal as his gaze fell to hers. “How may I be of service, your highness?”

Emma simply looked at him for several long moments, her eyes searching his and her expression far too soft for someone about to make a pronouncement that would ruin his career. She opened her mouth a second time as if to speak, but closed it again before stepping closer to him and starting over. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and tinged with regret, “for everything I said to you the other day. Killian, I…you were right. What was starting to happen between us was real, but you have to understand,” she looked up at him pleadingly, “it’s not easy to know who to trust when you’re in my position, and I’ve…I’ve been burned before by exactly this sort of thing. I got scared when we discovered each other’s real identities, but I shouldn’t have been…in my heart, I always knew what kind of person you are, and you didn’t deserve my suspicion, or my accusations. I’m so sorry.”

She finished and took a step back, her eyes flitting away from his while he stood staring at her, dumbfounded. Of all the things he’d expected when he’d found her alone in the courtyard, this turn of events wasn’t anywhere on the list. It took him a few moments to find his voice, and even as he began speaking he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was going to say. He wasn’t at all surprised, though, when he heard himself saying, “It’s alright. I owe you an apology as well-”

Her head whipped up and she shook it vehemently. “You really don’t-”

“I really do,” he insisted, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. “I was being selfish – I knew I couldn’t tell you who I was because of protocol and I kept seeing you anyway. I put you in a difficult position and when the truth came out, I spoke very harshly to you – and I was more than a bit of a hypocrite about it all. I’m sorry, Emma.”

He’d barely realized that he’d used her given name for the first time since he’d found out she was the princess when the air between them seemed to take on an electric charge. “Say that again,” she whispered, stepping back closer to where he stood.

“What? That I’m sorry?” he said, a note of teasing creeping into his voice as he mirrored her, moving close enough that they were almost touching. “Because I am, you know.”

“No,” she shook her head, smiling at him as she pressed up on her tiptoes and her arms crept around his neck. “Say my name again – please.”

A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned down, murmuring Emma against her mouth before his lips covered her own. This kiss was so unlike the previous ones they’d shared on the day of that fateful picnic – those had been filled with the urgency of newness and, he realized now, it was more than likely that Emma had thought it might have been the only one they’d ever share. By contrast, this one was slow, languorous, unfolding as lazily as if they had all the time in the world and intended to spend it solely with each other.

When they finally pulled back, his arms had wound fully around her waist and her hands were firmly entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He imagined that his expression mirrored hers, dazed but so very happy.

“Well,” she said on a laugh, sounding delighted and far more carefree than he’d ever heard her in the short time he’d known her. “That makes this next part easier.”

“Next part?” he asked absently, more focused on trailing one hand slowly up and down her back, tracing random patterns as he went. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the sensation before she blinked and focused on him again.

“Yes,” she nodded decisively. “The part where I ask you out on a date – where we both know who the other person is, Killian.”

“A date?” he repeated, feeling as dizzy as though he’d been whacked over the head with something rather large and heavy. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. “How would that even work? With you being…well, you and me being in the Cadre. What would it even look like?”

She grinned – brightly enough to light the whole courtyard without electricity – in response. “Well,” she murmured, scratching her fingernails lightly against the back of his neck in an extremely distracting way. “I don’t exactly know yet. I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to help me figure that out.”

He looked down at her, mind still reeling with everything they’d said – not to mention getting to kiss her again – and fully aware of the challenges that would lie ahead for them both if he accepted. But as he stared at her happy, hopeful expression, and felt a similar one on his own face, he knew there was only one answer in his heart. “With pleasure, Emma.”

Her happy laugh rang through the courtyard for a moment until they lost themselves in each other once again.

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

ROYAL REBEL WITH A CAUSE: PRINCESS EMMA SET TO OPEN NEW CHARITIES TO PROMOTE ADVANCEMENT OF MISTHAVEN’S WOMEN AND SUPPORT AT-RISK CHILDREN

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, MAY 30, 2023 – Today, Princess Emma of Misthaven finally realized a long-held dream. With her husband, Commodore Killian Jones, at her side, the princess – who is expecting the couple’s first child late this summer – presided over the openings of two new organizations of which she will serve as patron.

The first, Move Forward Misthaven, is a group dedicated to supporting the advancement of women in all industries and areas of study, but with a particular focus on the fields of business, political science, and education. “The goal with Move Forward Misthaven is to elevate talented women in all fields and cultivate them for the leadership roles they are eager to inhabit,” the princess related when asked about her reasons for founding the organization. “We are dedicated to broadening Misthaven’s horizons as we look to the country’s future as a player on the world stage.”

The second group, Stand Up Misthaven, will tackle the much-needed task of providing aid and resources for at-risk children – ranging from educating teachers on how to prevent bullying in schools, to coordinating with youth shelters to provide better care for homeless teens, to evaluating the Misthaven foster system to overhaul its quality of care. “We must speak, we must stand up, for those who cannot do so for themselves – and there are few who are more in need of aid than children, those who look to us for care, for love, and proper direction.” The princess stated in an impassioned speech she gave at the organization’s opening. “Stand Up Misthaven will advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves.”

Princess Emma has long been an unusual figure in the Misthaven royal family, far more concerned with active public service than traditional diplomatic endeavors, though it is only in recent years that the royal protocols have been altered to allow her a more hands-on role in public leadership. This personal approach will continue with both of her new organizations – the princess will serve on the board of both, but will also make use of her graduate degree as a political science course leader for Move Forward Misthaven. She is also set to speak in front of parliament next week on behalf of improvements to the Misthaven foster system in support of Stand Up Misthaven.”

Ever marching to the beat of her own drum, the princess likewise bucked tradition with her marriage to the common-born Commodore Jones just over a year ago. Jones, who had been a member of Cadre 2018 – and who declined the offer to stay on as training officer for Cadre 2021 two years ago in favor of returning to Misthaven’s Royal Navy – has gained distinction at every turn and has accumulated a service record littered with honors and promotions, starting well before his romance with the princess began.

It is too early to speculate on the potential success of either of the princess’ new organizations, but with her clear determination and boundless energy, and the obviously mutually supportive bond shared between her highness and the Commodore, it isn’t an exaggeration to say that far from the “Royal Rebel” or “Prickly Princess” she was once deemed to be, Princess Emma is the face of Misthaven’s future.

[sunstar121]

I have this strange crackship of Logan X Googleplier if you want to try it?

:) I call this ship Spellcheck, or Microsoft Office.________________________________When something bugged Logan, he would try and figure it out.Coffee machine broken? Turns out someone spilled water on its wires, and it short circuited.  Patton looking upset? He broke a bowl, and is feeling bad about it.So when he couldn't figure out how he was teleported to the Iplier mansion that one time, it drove him crazy.He deduced that the Mind Palace must be connected in some form to the manor, and the only place that could be connected (logically) was Romans room.So, early one morning he snuck into the creative sides room, stumbling a bit at the bright lighting.  In this room, if you could imagine something, it would happen, so he started thinking.He imagined a square-ish portal gaping before him, and soon he felt the whoosh of reality warping.  He opened his eyes to a swirling black and gray mass, and with a quick intake if breath, he stepped through.~~~G~~~️“B-blue’s log number four: I've gotten used to the others calling me Blue and Prime.  We call Green Chrome now. Re-ed is still Red, as Mail is a strange name. Ollie is, well, Ollie.“I have been experiencing strange feelings and thoughts as of late.  My chest feels fluttery, and m-y stomach feels as though I've swallowed a bee hive.  My head gets fuzzy and my cheeks warm up. T-they all occur slightly after I think about Logan Sanders.  After doing s-some searches, all i have come up with is the diagnosis of being in love. Unrealistic, as my brain is robotic.  I c-annot feel- !”Google was interrupted by a loud crash, and some familiar groans.  He whipped around, eyes glowing red and ready to fight, only to be met with Logan himself.“Ah, salutations, Google.  It seems that my experiment is successful.”  The logical side brushed himself off, looking slightly distressed from his crash landing.“Experiment?”  Google echoed, forcing his systems to convert back to neutral.  No need to zap his….. crush into another plane of existence, “H-ave you figured out how to tr-avel between M-Mind Palace and the manor, perhaps?”Logan looked pleased, and nodded enthusiastically.  It made Google's circuits heat up, and he willed his fans to go faster.  God forbid he started blushing like a human.“I hope that I didn't interrupt anything.  You seemed to be talking as I appeared, saying something about love?” Logan questioned.  Google froze, his mind coming up blank. A warning sign flashed across his vision, notifying him that he was overheating, and his emotional processors were acting funky.“Are you alright, Google?”  Through his haze of dizziness, he felt Logan's hand on his shoulder, and he knew his cheeks were quite pink.“N-no, Log-an, I a-am not alri-ight.”  He glitched out, his voice modulator taking a hit as well.He backed up so his backside was pressed against his desk, and he stared anywhere except for directly at his crush.“Oh,” came the others response, “Well, if you tell me what exactly is wrong, then I'm quite sure I can help with your problem.”No, no you can't help, Google thought, I cannot allow you to help.  Damn, why am I falling for a human?After fighting with himself for several minutes of awkward silence, he finally manned up with the help of Ollie.  It really did help that all the Google's were connected, and could message each other at any time. He really did appreciate the yellow android.“The-ere isn't anything inherently wrong with me.  I mean, my sensors are ha-aving a freak ou-ut, and my fans are working double time, but other than that, not-thing is wrong with my body.”“Alright then,” Logan said, taking to a softer tone that sent Google wild, “Is there anything wrong mentally? Or, with the other egos?  What's bothering you?”“W-What's bothering me is that my programming allowed me to fa-all in love like a human!” Google blurted out, and he recoiled when he heard his voice come out desperate and cracked, “What's b-othering me is-s that I thi-ink I love you, L-ogan!”Logan seemed taken aback, and he took a step forward.  “Me? You have a crush on…. Me?”“Y-Yes, okay? I have a-a crush on you. Is that w-hat you wanted t-o hear?” Google snapped, immediately feeling guilty, “I'm s-sorry, you did not d-deserve to be sna-apped at.”It was quiet for a second.  Then, he felt himself being hugged.  He wrapped his arms around Logan, watching as his sensors gradually calmed down.Logan stepped back, letting go, and put his hands behind his back.  “Even though it might not sound like it, as I am stuck in this informative tone, I would like to say that I, too, have developed romantic feelings for you.”Google felt a wave of relief wash over him, and he swore some coolant almost leaked from his eyes.  “I hope you d-do not mi-ind dating a garb-bage androi-id.”“Patton always tells me to pick up garbage.  Would two days from now at six be alright?” Logan smoothly suggested, and Google could feel his system heating up once more.“Y-yes, Logan.  I'd say t-that is more than alright.”

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW36+

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: De Bruyne and Benteke

IN (for -4 points): Salah and Giroud

In another episode of things you hate to see, Benteke is ineligible for the duration of the season so I'm transferring out the best player of this foursome but it had to be done.

Having some fun here with Mo back in against Kola and Tierney lol banter time ok. Basically just feeling Kevin is not going to be starting this one so for what life is this if not for having fun. I've been having fun so I will continue to have fun. Mo still put in an insane xG game versus Burnley and so I'm back in on chasing the hauls. Arsenal and Chelsea suddenly seem like insane incredible attacking fixtures and Livp.....well my sense is that the front three will go for the rest of the games after each one of them has had a game off since the restart already. Mo looking on it every game he still might have some double digit hauls left in him.

Was very wishy washy feeling between Giroud and Ings for this spot and in the end figured that Ings is just a bit better for the next two combined and will not require an additional transfer / benching as I wouldn't want to start G again after Norwich...in which we also don't even know if he'll start since Franklin seems to hate him (he's from France). If you thought this was a defense for picking Ings it's the indictment against picking Ings - I'm in wild man mode so I'm going for the max perverse pick clearly. Giroud is fun and it's fun to be able to experience him even if it is for one game only. If the leak comes in, though, and Tam is in...I'll prob just get Ings :)

GK:

de Gea (cry)

Joke fixture hopefully Paul doesn't fuck up the world to concede another goal in this one. Should be a very easy clean we look like there is no possibility of scoring from anywhere right now in only 90 minutes.

DEF:

Maguire (cry)

The double defense goes again. 3 cleans from 6 so far...ok..fine. Hoping that settles up on 5 from 8 with this game and then wet spam in which case I'd be well pleased.

Doherty & Boly (bur)

Wood is prob ready for a start so probably not a clean here. Wolves been playing good stuff and they still have a lot to play for so they should be well focused for this one. Hopefully Burnley drag them down to their level and it is just a shitfest game. Dock stopped attacking, but whatever, the cleans are flowing.

MID:

Salah (ars)

Mo just coming and going from my team with my every whim. Well he's back for the next two so we'll see how that works out. Talked enough about Mo...just going with what I'm seeing. Livp look good and I believe he'll play basically the first team in these next games. Trying to exploit the goons here with barely anything to play for and head's potentially hanging low.

Foden & Sterling (BOU)

Little bit nervy about Raz starting but Fodeninho looks primed and ready to do the things. Should be a lot of goals in this one.

Pulisic (NOR)

Banter fixture....Norwich been beaching it up for a little while now. Hopefully this opposition is what Chelsea need to snap back into gear. If they let Antonio score four off them then who knows what Chelsea can do. Should be a crooked scoreline here.

Bruno (cry)

The shitting of points continues. March on.

FWD:

Firmino (ars)

Bob good friend looked nice last game and did everything but get in the fpl points. Hard to imagine how David Luiz and friends will be able to cope with his movement my body is ready for a bob fest.

Giroud (NOR)

Unless there is a leak with Tam in it..I'll prob just go for the higher xJOY and fun pick here with Giroud. Hopefully he gets points in the 70 max mins he will get in this one. Old friend G in for the fun banter game against the joke team...what could go wrong?

CAP:

Foden (BOU)

Another easy cap week. Fucking love Phil get in Phil. He looked so good in his last start if he is able to replicate that performance he could be in there with a double return or something around that. Bournemouth are a mess, and if Ake is out....well then they are even more of a mess. Maybe this is actually the game that he lets Foden play the 90....woah. That would be something.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Vardy and Mahrez

IN (for -4 points): Jesus and Willian

*Gonna also, like Walsh, be waiting for a lineup leak before actually punching in the move so you know, might not do Willian for sure depending on him and also depending on if Giroud starts (makes Willian a lot better) but these are the planned moves*

Vardy in Vardy out.

Mahrez in Mahrez out.

I don’t know if it’s correct but it’s honest work.

Trying to find the hauls I’m basically playing minesweeper out here and looking to spike a big one and I duno, is this worth a hit? Probably not but if Mahrez is benched and Vardy/Leicester suck then yeah maybe it is??? There was a lot of thought of different moves and safer moves and shit but I ended up here and I’m happy enough with it.

The season’s almost gone just do fun shit and follow your gut and yolo.

Come on boys.

GK:

Ederson (BOU)

Looking like another day another clean this week for Citeh and Eddy.

Yeah the huge upside of the attackers will probably have all of them above Eddy in proj3kt restart points but also he’s been great and extremely cheap compared to the big boys so I duno... would I do it again in hindsight probably not but has it been bad no for sure not I don’t think...

DEF:

Maguire (cry)

I mean Harry is just so fun to watch... the way he marked AWB out of the corner was *chef’s kiss* ... they’ll probably clean but if I were presented with the options of:

A. clean or B. Harold / Manchester United calamity

That’s hard. Like splitting children really...

Doherty & Saiss (bur)

Scared of Jrod and Wood but still gotta back Wolves for a clean here... Come on you Wolves.

MID:

Martial & Fernandes (cry)

Expecting a dicking here. In my head this match is more of a Bruno match but maybe it’s just an everyone match lol Palace are so bad...

De Bruyne (BOU)

Kevin been an actual disaster for me and looking reasonably likely to get benched/rested this week so yeah just loving life with my 2-3 points per game 10.7 priced midfielder... that said if he starts he might quintuple return vs Bournemouth so come onnnnn Peppppppppppp.

Pulisic & Willian (NOR)

Attacking the bounce-back and the Norwich fixture. Nothing more and nothing less.

Both of these guys been really impressing me a lot lately especially when Giroud is in there to bounce 1-2s off of and hold up and occupy the CBs... And they both have the stats to back the eye-test... Hoping they just shred.

FWD:

Jimenez (bur)

Holding Jim was a shining light from Walsh on last week’s pod and here we are again; after one good attacking performance I feel a lot better about holding Jim in what is another great attacking fixture.

Don’t let Pope and cleans fool you - Burnley loves to concede lots of chances. They’re overdue for a fucking.

Jesus (BOU)

Hoping that managing his minutes by subbing him at like 60′ every match will allow him to play this one and still be fine for FA Cup. We’ll see I guess.

If he starts he gets points.

CAP:

Willian (NOR)

I duno I mean I spent like probably an hour of the live Twitch stream last night talking about Willian and Willian vs. Puli captaincy options and this was the result...

I should say I do NOT think Will is a better cap over the United guys but I do think it’s pretty fucking fun and it’s a massive differential which makes my dick move a little bit.

I mean maybe Chelsea just score six vs. Norwich? Norwich fixture is what dreams are made of...

United should still destroy Palace but at least Palace will TRY to defend and park. Norwich don’t even try... Norwich play open and attacking no matter the fixture no matter the situation and they get destroyed with such insane regularity.

Come on Chelsea I need this!!!

[hate-spiked-blog]

Surprises

February 12, 22 CLE.

It was getting cold outside...much too cold. She needed to come home. Wanted it, even.

She supposed to an extent she did feel guilty about lying to him but it was a necessary evil. It was all to make her easier to handle, more palatable. She’d said it was for an extensive job, somewhere far away, but the truth was more sinister. She’d been so, so very hungry. So many nights of full body aches for so desperately wanting food...real food. Not pork and raw steaks. It wasn’t enough. So she’d gone a little crazy. She’d gone to the forests outside of Noxus and gorged herself on unwary travelers. Undoubtedly the bones picked clean would be blamed on razorbeaks or murkwolves. She’d done this so she could try to go longer this time without having to relapse. Nobody could say she wasn’t trying.

Fully sated, she’d made her way back to Zaun. She wrapped herself in her coat, nuzzled her chin down into the collar, to keep the cold out. The coat was still a pristine white, just as if he’d just bought it, and not like she had used it as a blanket while she slept in the wild. Her fine claws had been enough to pick the moss and bark out of the fine minkfur. Her hair and skin, however, were in a much worse state. A detour into a bar would fix that.

Evelynn sauntered in, and she was surprised. This place was crawling with people. It was only seven. On a Tuesday. She scuttled past them with collar drawn up for obscurity into the bathrooms, and began the process of scrubbing her body clean with sinkwater, and using paper towels to dry down. Her hair, once magenta, had faded to a dull mauve from the exposure to the sun. She’d have to dye it again soon, but she didn’t want to waste too much time. She’d already sent him word she’d be home tonight. She didn’t want to disappoint.

Clean and dry, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a bottle of perfume. Another gift from him. She’d been skeptical of it at first. What did men know of perfume other than price tag? But it had become her favorite...and his too. She stalked out of the bathroom, but paused when she heard the singer on stage begin to speak.

“This next number is dedicated to the lovers in the crowd. A song for Heartseeker’s Day.”

Fuck. It was Heartseeker’s Day? Suddenly the crowd made sense, as did all the women in pinks and reds and violets.

She had no real understanding of what it entailed. She knew Heartseeker’s Day as the prime day for agony harvesting in years pasts. Single people on this day were always so much more lonely, and so much more willing to turn a blind eye to her blue skin for a little company. But now that she was in a relationship? Not a fucking clue.

Flowers were for women. She couldn’t get him flowers. Sex was inevitable. It always was, especially since she’d been gone for a little over a week now. He’d be ready to strip her at the door, most likely. That would be no special gift either. What did he want? The muscle tissue and flesh getting digested in her stomach said it all.

He’d like to see her try to eat. He always did. It gave him a lot of joy in those big green eyes to watch her put animal meat in her mouth instead. She didn’t want to eat it and potentially get sick, and waste all this effort. But maybe, just maybe, this time she wouldn’t get hungry like that again. A few streets down, she was familiar with a restaurant that was Ionian-owned. Zaunites and Piltovians alike loved their foreigner food. She made a beeline through the tables of the bar, and slyly filched a man’s coinpurse as she passed.

She made her way to the restaurant. The owners turned pale at her appearance. She paid them no heed. She pointed long fingers at random items on the menu. She also requested any raw pork they had. They obeyed her command with shaking hands, and She left the entire bag of golden hexes for them. They seemed relieved to see her leave, and her pointed ears picked up the sound of the placard being flipped to “close” as she walked out. She’d done them a favor.

She wisped and wound her way within the shadows to his “safehouse”. It was truly an unfitting word for a place so opulent. She didn’t bother to ask how he afforded it or how he hadn’t been found. Just like he probably wouldn’t bother to ask where she’d truly been. They always took things at face value; it was the easiest way. She was nearly stopped at the entrance, but an unearthly growl made the door boy turn a blind eye. They simply didn’t want just anyone let into The Dalton Waltz Grand.

Up the elevator. Thirty floors. To the very top.

The doors dinged, and the elevator attendant let her through the interwoven iron grate. He frowned at her, sneered down his nose. She returned his distaste with a threatening smile, baring her two sets of pointed canines. These hotel boys needed to fuck off. She had a man...and she guessed herself, too...to feed. 

The clicking of her heels was muffled by the plush red rug that wound down the entire hallway. At the end of the rug was a door, for which she had the key...somewhere. She patted her body with her free hand, as the other was occupied by the paper bags full of Ionian fare. Shit, had it fallen out of her pocked in the woods? Damn it. It just was not her day. She jammed a long claw into the keyhole. The locking mechanism broke but her claw did not, though it’s layer of expensive lacquer had been scraped off. She stepped through the door and closed it. She’d call maintenance up to come fix it eventually, when she wasn’t around to take the blame.

The living room was empty of her Gambler. Strange. He was always home to greet her. He always seemed to just know when she’d arrive and he was always on the couch, inexplicably. Big grin across his lips, eyes twinkling. She wondered if he’d ever ported there with his magic, just to not break the tradition. Knowing him and his love of being showy as possible, it was a pretty high probability.

But now, the tradition was broken. Where was he?

“Twisty?” Evelynn called. She stepped into the kitchen and unceremoniously dumped the bags of food on the counter. “Twisty, you better not port behind me and grab me, I’m not in the mood.” She growled. All this effort for Heartseeker’s day and he wasn’t even home? Ugh.

Her pointed ears twitched slightly. Was that a grunt...and a sigh? That was him, alright. Unmistakable. She knew all his noises. Why would he be grunting? She sniffed. The air smelled sweet, and the scent originated from the bedroom, behind a closed door.

There better not be another woman in there.

She had no reason to think that he would, but she was nothing if not insanely territorial. She crossed the white carpeting to the door in record time and all but threw it open. “TWISTED FA-....” She paused in her tracks, mid shout. There was no woman. But there was an abundance of chocolate. Just not in a box.

“Oh, Sugar! You’re home. Happy Heartseeker’s Day, Evie.”

Yellow eyes squinted down at him. He was sitting on his rump, on the carpet, one knee bent and the other leg resting on the floor. He was leaned back in a way she presumed was supposed to look seductive, but there was something wrong. His hands were behind his back. He was also nearly nude, and covered in chocolate that he’d clearly painted on himself, as the remnants of the tin and a paintbrush were off to the side on a bedside table.

“What in Runeterra are you doing?” She questioned, baffled.

“I’m surprisin’ you.”

“With....?”

“Me. I’m th’ present.” He winked at her. She scowled.

“What am I supposed to do with you now that you’re covered in a sticky mess? And where are your hands? You’d need those.”

“Yer ‘sposed to lick it off of me.” He stated matter-of-factly. She squinted harder.

“Your girlfriend, who cannot stomach human food, is supposed to lick chocolate off of your chest. Twisty, it’s all caked in your chest hair.”

“Well, it was liquid at one point. I had opened th’ window t’ stay cool while it applied, but I stumbled upon ‘n issue and now...”

“It’s hot as fuck outside...and it’s dried solid. Why haven’t you gotten up to wash it off?”

“I can’t get up.”

“What!? Why?”

“Handcuffs.”

Evelynn rubbed her eyes with her fingertips and sighed loudly. “I’m not playing this game. Port out like you always do when I cuff you and wash up. I brought home dinner.” She went to turn and walk out of the bedroom. She wanted to get a taste of the raw pork in before she had to stomach the rest of the food. 

“Y’ see, the problem here is that I can’t port out.” He called after her.

She turned around “What?”

“Th' surprise was that I’d gone 'n had these special cuffs made. I know I get antsy sometimes so I figured I’d get magical enchanted ones for you to put on me. I put the commission in weeks ago.”

“Why can’t you get out?”

“I forgot the password. Remember when y' wrote that word on that piece of paper I asked you for?”

“Not at all.”

“That was the password I gave to the crafter. I looked at it but I just can’t remember. I’ve been tryin’ all afternoon.”

“Oh my g-...I can’t believe...!” She groaned, exasperated. She didn’t remember the paper at all.” Shouldn’t it be something easy? Like my eye color?”

“Yellow’s the word we use when I want you to lighten up a little on the beatings. I’ve tried Marsupial, Succulent, Capricorn...”

“I’m not a Capricorn. I’m a Scorpio.”

There was an audible click, and his hands came out from behind his back. He sighed in relief and cracked his shoulders with a moan. She smiled at her, the one she missed when he hand’t been on the couch. Her irritation melted.

“Well. Wouldja lookit that?” She merely rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Come on. Let’s go eat.” She pulled him to his feet, and cracklings of the dried chocolate fell onto the carpet. She peeled a piece off of his neck and placed it gingerly on her tongue. It wasn’t super sweet. There was bitterness to it. He’d thought about what type to get...it was just like him.

He watched her eat it, and smiled wider when she didn’t wince. His hand snaked around her waist and he leaned down to kiss her.

[soukacatv]

What is the difference between 4K TV and Ultra HD? Start watching 4K TV? | Soukacatv.com

The world of TVs has moved on a lot in the past few years. There are new technologies and certifications, all aimed at making the next leap forward, none more so than 4K TV.

They all carry snappy acronyms such as HDR10+, Dolby Vision HDR and 8K. For now, the main one you need to know is 4K.

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4K is no longer something for early adopters, but is now coming into its own as studios, broadcasters and streaming services support it.

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Netflix and Amazon have pushed 4K greatly on their streaming platforms in the past few years, with the latter also offering several 4K compatible devices. There’s also Sky Q, which brings 4K to a whole new segment of mainstream TV viewers in the UK. On the gaming side, there’s 4K love from the Xbox One X and PS4 Pro. There’s also Apple’s attempt to storm the 4K castle with its Apple TV 4K.

With all that in mind, here’s everything you need to know about 4K, to save you a load of time and effort when buying a new 4K TV.

What is 4K?

4K, also known as Ultra HD, refers to a TV resolution of 3,840 x 2,160 pixels. That’s four times as many pixels than in a full HD TV, a total of about 8.3 million pixels. Having so many pixels means a higher pixel density, and you should have a clearer, better defined picture. It’s not necessarily about sharpness, but about letting more detail and texture through.

What is the difference between 4K and Ultra HD?

4K is more commonly used, but you’ll also find people calling it Ultra HD, or UHD. For the average consumer buying a TV, these are one and the same. But there is a small difference.

In its correct usage, true 4K refers to a resolution of 4096 x 2160, which was first introduced in digital cinemas. UHD refers to a resolution of 3840 x 2160, which is the resolution you actually get on the TVs you take home.

So technically, 4K is the wrong term for 3840 x 2160 displays and content, but it’s said so often that two terms are interchangeable.

What does 4K offer?

Simply, the extra resolution of 4K adds better definition and clarity. The result is images that look life-like, closer to looking through a window rather than watching TV.

4K TV is especially effective on very large screens – so ideally you’d settle for a 55-inch set or go even bigger. The effect is more noticeable if you’re moving to 4K from a TV of the same size.

Let’s say you have a 50-in HD TV and you upgrade to 4K: you are cramming four times the number of pixels into the same amount of space and that makes for a noticeably denser picture with finer detail.

8K has hit the market, although it’s still in its infancy there are 8K screens available to buy. They are, expensive, however, and will need a screen of at least 65in to get the best out of them. There’s also no native 8K content to watch at the moment.

8K won’t achieve mainstream acceptance (or affordability) for a while yet, so you’re safe to buy your 4K TV unless you’re desperate for the features that 8K brings with it.

How close do I need to sit to the TV?

To get the best out of 4K, it is recommended that you sit closer to your screen than you would do with HD. The extra resolution and increased pixel density means you can sit further forward to get the most from your TV. And filling up more of your field of view makes for a more immersive experience.

While sitting close gives you the most impact, we reject the notion that there’s no benefit from distant viewing positions. Lines are still cleanly drawn, you still perceive more depth, colours still look more subtly and smoothly rendered, and objects within the picture still look solid and three-dimensional.

What else do I need to start watching 4K TV?

While your 4K TV will upscale HD and standard definition pictures to 4K, you’ll still need a native 4K source if you want to take advantage of your TV.

Examples include 4K streaming services like Netflix and Amazon, several 4K streaming sticks, Apple TV 4K, as well as Ultra HD Blu-ray players.

Where can I watch 4K content?

There are several ways to catch 4K content. If you’ve sworn off physical and are ensconced in streaming services, your main options are Netflix and Amazon Video. The former has an ever-expanding library of TV series and films to stream in 4K for £9.99/month.

In terms of TV, you’ve got the likes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Maniac and Narcos. Netflix’s original films  offer a few notable efforts including Apostle, Okja and Mute. There are also films from other studios to watch on the service, as well as comedy specials and documentaries.

Amazon Prime Video offers 4K content as part of its video streaming service, including original Amazon series such as Mozart in the Jungle, Homecoming, and All or Nothing: Manchester City.

BT has also has a 4K TV channel in BT Sport Ultra HD. It shows Premier League, FA Cup and Champions League football along with Aviva Premiership rugby. You’ll need one of BT’s Ultra-HD boxes to take advantage of the service.

Then there’s the Sky Q service, where you can watch the broadcaster’s sizeable catalogue of films and TV shows in 4K, with most Premier League football games broadcast in 4K too.

Do all 4K TVs support 4K streaming?

These days, yes. The first 4K TVs that came out in 2013 couldn’t handle Netflix 4K streams. Netflix adopted the HEVC video format and none of the TVs could decode it. These days, you’ll struggle to find a 4K TV that cannot stream and does not have access to 4K streaming services.

What internet speed do you need to stream 4K TV?

Netflix and Amazon require speeds of at least 15Mbps to stream 4K content. Speeds need to remain consistently at or above that figure; as soon as you drop – let’s say due to high contention rates at peak usage times – the picture will slip back into HD. And don’t worry if you start off with a blurry image: it’s common for streaming services to start a programme at low resolution and then bump it up to HD and UHD after the initial buffer.

To try and cover itself for this eventuality, Netflix actually says on its website that you need 25Mbps minimum. But we’ve confirmed with Netflix that a consistent 15Mbps is enough. It’s worth bearing in mind that this means you need 15 to 25Mbps of spare bandwidth, so if someone else is using your Wi-Fi, you’ll need to have that amount of bandwidth free after you account for the other person’s usage.

Compression techniques improve all the time, so it’s possible you may in the future need slightly lower broadband speed to experience 4K on Netflix or other rival 4K streaming platforms. But bear in mind that high levels of compression can negatively affect picture quality, so if you’re serious about 4K a fast broadband connection is a must.

What is UHD Blu-ray?

We’ve got a detailed breakdown of UHD Blu-ray, for a full rundown of the new format. In short, Ultra HD Blu-ray discs have a much larger capacity than standard Blu-ray discs, and can carry the information needed to store 4K video without the compression of streaming sites. Basically, it’s the best form of 4K you can watch at home.

There are plenty of UHD Blu-ray players out now, including the Panasonic DP-UB9000 and Sony UBP-X700. Microsoft provides an affordable alternative in the Xbox One S, which plays 4K Blu-rays alongside games.

What connections do I need to watch 4K?

We’d love to say ‘an HDMI socket’ and leave it at that, but unfortunately it’s not that simple.

The issue here is that not all HDMI sockets are equal. There have been multiple versions/standards of HDMI since the digital connection first appeared, with the latest v2.0 HDMI specification being defined specifically with 4K feeds in mind.

The most significant advantage of HDMI 2.0 is that they support increased data bandwidth, and so enable playback of 4K feeds with full (so-called 4:4:4) colour sampling at frame rates of up to 60fps. The previous HDMI 1.4 supports 4K feeds up to 30fps.

Most of the major 4K TV brands now carry HDMI 2.0 in their current TVs – LG, Sony, Panasonic and Samsung are all onboard with it now, as is Philips.

You can. There are domestic cameras capable of producing startlingly good 4K quality without costing the earth. Two of the best examples are the £1,500 Sony FDR-AX700 camcorder and the (body only) Sony A6400 camera.

Many modern smartphones are also capable of capturing 4K video, including Apple’s iPhone 8 and iPhone X. Of course, 4K recording has long been supported at the top end of the Android market, and 4K video capture is present on current flagships such as the Samsung Galaxy S10+, HTC U12+, and the LG G6.

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Source: trustedreviews

[ultrasfcb-blog]

Can Wolves and their bold homeowners finally emulate Man Metropolis

Can Wolves and their bold homeowners finally emulate Man Metropolis

Can Wolves and their bold homeowners finally emulate Man Metropolis

Wolves held champions Manchester Metropolis to a 1-1 draw at Molineux

It’s virtually 10 years since Sheikh Mansour purchased Manchester Metropolis and reworked the membership from noisy neighbours into one in all England’s best.

In their very own method, the Chinese language Fosun Group try one thing related at Wolves.

As they celebrated promotion from the Championship in April, senior executives spoke of their imaginative and prescient to make Wolves “one of the best clubs in the world”.

It was becoming due to this fact on Saturday that Metropolis ought to go to Molineux so near their anniversary, providing a possibility to see how Wolves are doing – and extra importantly – simply how far they must go.

Wolves have been league champions 3 times within the 1950s and are ranked inside England’s prime 10 most profitable golf equipment, however have spent solely 4 seasons out of the final 34 within the prime flight.

With the membership’s followers singing an anthem that ends “we’re Wolverhampton, we’re on our method again”, is it practical to assume Wolves can match their homeowners’ ambitions and get themselves again among the many trophy contenders and title challengers?

Getting access to a contact of sophistication

Willy Boly opened the scoring for Wolves in opposition to Manchester Metropolis

Nuno Espirito Santo’s facet obtained a standing ovation from the house supporters after their 1-1 draw with Premier League champions Manchester City.

They obtained inside 21 minutes of a primary prime -light residence win since December 2011, when Steven Fletcher’s second-half double defeated Sunderland.

There was greater than a touch of fine fortune about Willy Boly’s opener, which clearly went in off his hand.

Nevertheless, there was nothing fortunate concerning the first-half save goalkeeper Rui Patricio made to show Raheem Sterling’s long-range shot onto the publish, nor the response feet-first cease that saved out Sergio Aguero’s close-range header after half-time.

Thoughts you, it should not have been that a lot of a shock. Patricio has 73 Portugal caps and was in aim once they beat hosts France in extra-time to win Euro 2016.

Patricio signed for Wolves from Sporting Lisbon this summer time, because of the affect of tremendous agent Jorge Mendes, whose Gestifute company is an element owned by the Fosun group.

One other Euro 2016 winner and summer time arrival, Joao Moutinho, began the sport. Key males Helder Costa and Ruben Neves are additionally Mendes shoppers from Portugal, as is their supervisor.

Wolves have repeatedly denied Mendes has an excessive amount of affect on the membership and the English Football League cleared them after allegations have been made by the Leeds proprietor Andrea Radrizzani.

Evidently although, the upper Wolves climb, the extra Mendes’ elite steady of gamers, which incorporates Cristiano Ronaldo and Angel Di Maria, will probably be wanted to achieve the subsequent stage.

Progress, however not instantaneous success

Wolves’ summer time signings Adama Traore [Middlesbrough] £18m Rui Patricio [Sporting Lisbon] Free Willy Boly [Porto] £10m Raul Jimenez [Benfica] Mortgage Benik Afobe [Bournemouth] £10m Jonny Castro Otto [Atletico Madrid] Mortgage Joao Moutinho [Monaco] £5m Leander Dendoncker [Anderlecht] Mortgage

It has been largely forgotten over the past decade however Metropolis received solely 4 of their first 15 Premier League video games of the Abu Dhabi period. It was three years earlier than they received their first trophy; the FA Cup.

Regardless of a internet spend of £55m in the summertime, the eighth highest within the Premier League, Wolves are nonetheless to win a recreation this season.

They carried out fantastically in opposition to Pep Guardiola’s facet, however however, they’ve solely two factors from their opening three video games and can finish the weekend nearer the underside of the desk than the highest.

Few – together with Nuno – doubt Wolves’ fortunes will enhance considerably over the approaching weeks and months.

Nevertheless, he refuses to look too far forward, seeing little level in figuring out what his facet must match Metropolis with out first figuring out one of the simplest ways of navigating the journey.

He mentioned: “We won’t purpose to change into one thing that’s additional sooner or later with out taking good care of our current.

“We can’t be in a rush to match ourselves with a membership the size of Manchester Metropolis.

“After all we have now ambitions however we have now to be humble and know the place we’re.”

Nuno urges Wolves to regulate video games higher

All in it collectively

Wolves homeowners have plans to extend the capability of Molineux to 50,000. Within the quick time period, will probably be across the 31,322 current to see the Metropolis recreation.

Working for TV, former boss Mick McCarthy remarked that “the place is leaping” when Wolves are doing nicely.

That was actually the case on this event and it’s evident Nuno would not view the development of his soccer workforce being purely about his gamers and their supervisor.

He mentioned: “Everybody within the membership and the town of Wolverhampton should be engaged if we’re to create one thing collectively.

“We’d like an identification everybody concerned within the membership can maintain on to.”

BBC Sport – Football ultras_FC_Barcelona

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[ncmagroup]

By Jaqueline Thomas

Are you looking for effective, new ways to generate leads for your business? Well, you’re in luck! We’ve compiled a list of top lead generation ideas that are proven to work. A big thank you to all the business owners who shared their best tips for winning customers.

Before we dive into the details on this topic, we also suggest you check out Insightly, our recommended small business CRM. Visit Insightly to learn more.

1 – Nothing beats door to door sales, especially when you have a physical product.

Kevin Moses, That Truck Needs A Mudflap

I like door to door sales. While some may feel that door to door sales is inefficient, some things you just can’t find out about behind a computer desk. I’ve learned a lot about my customer just by gauging their reactions to my pitch, which I can translate into a more effective marketing campaign online.

2 – Reach out to bloggers in your target niche to get testimonials.

Paul Manwaring, Designer, Consultant, Blogger, Internet Marketing Hustle

First use blogger outreach tools to find web owners that are active and blogging about my niche.

Then get in contact with these bloggers and offer a free trial of my service (I’m a usability tester). This involves me spending 5 minutes recording a personal video for that blogger. Showing them my service in the flesh usually gets them excited.

My response rate is typically 40-50%. Most of the responses are to enquire further about the service and some just to say thank you for going to such effort.

I then offer the full service to those interested in it for free in exchange of a review or mention on their blog.

It’s a win-win situation as I’ll either get paid for the job or ill get a promotion on a relevant bloggers site.

3 – Cold email is how I’ve managed to build a 7 figure agency and now have a lead generation software platform built for this specific purpose.

Justin McGill, CEO, LeadFuze

The key to a successful cold email is not to sell them, but to start a conversation. Asking a question is a good way to start the conversation while also driving more responses.

4 – Using live chat to improve lead generation process and increase conversions.

Sam Suthar, Marketing Head, Tagove

Previously live chat was just a text chat, but now it has changed. With the advancement of functionalities like video chat and co-browsing, businesses can understand customers’ product purchasing decisions and resolve their product or service queries instantly. This improves the lead generation process overall, increasing conversion which leads to more sales.

5- Generate Leads Using Bing With a Free $50 Coupon

Bing is the second largest search engine in the world and can drive a lot of traffic to your business. Because most advertisers are focused on Google, you may also be able to acquire clients on Bing at a lower cost. Try Bing Ads Today With a Free $50 Ads Coupon.

6 – Stop marketing and start being a real person during your cold calls

Augustus Franklin, Founder/CEO, CallHub

Since I work in the politics and advocacy, I have a lot of customers reaching out to me looking for a better way to connect with elected officials, mostly when Facebook, Twitter, and email, all prove ineffective for them. And it’s always the same reason; because all these channels are easily glanced over or ignored. But, writing a letter or calling them up and having a real conversation, that’s difficult to ignore and that’s what always works.

It’s is the same strategy with your cold leads. At a time when people are being overwhelmed with digital ads, it pays to actually call them up and have real conversations that add value to their lives. Getting personal; that’s how you get people to buy your stuff.

7 – What do you do when you don’t have a budget for a marketing team? Get on Facebook.

Ryan Stewart, Webris

I run a small business so we don’t have the budget to pay for marketing just yet. Therefore we’ve been forced to get creative with our marketing strategy and find organic sources. One of the best sources of free, untapped, organic traffic comes from Facebook Groups. It’s well documented that Facebook Pages don’t have the organic reach that they once did, but Facebook Groups don’t have that problem. There are literally millions of niche, active and engaged communities within Facebook that are a perfect way to connect and engage with potential customers.

8 – Here’s how cold calling created the opportunity to perform in front of President Obama:

Dan Nainan, Comedian/Actor/Voiceover Artist/Computer Geek, Dan Nainan

I’ve gotten a number of shows by doing a lot of cold calling. For example, for both Obama inaugurations, I cold pitched every single organizing committee for every inaugural event, and I ended up doing about 12 of them. Also, at every one of my shows, I make sure that every person at the event gets my business card – I have a table on the way out where I sell my books, CDs, and DVDs, and I personally hand a business card every person.

So it’s a combination of cold email pitches as well as in-person networking.

 9 – How often do you cold email?

Lidia Varesco Racoma, Art director & designer, Lidia Varesco Design

Email prospecting. I created a targeted list of potential prospects in my niche (education-focused organizations). I reach out to them via email to start a conversation and determine if my design studio may be the right fit for them. It has resulted in new clients as well as helped me build my email list (I also find email marketing to be successful with current clients/prospects).

 10 – Don’t underestimate the power of LinkedIn.

Andrea Foreman, Principal, Andrea Foreman PR

Without a doubt, it’s LinkedIn! This site has helped me build my growing PR Business! I’ve connected with old clients and have met new ones.

11 – Create a landing page (and don’t just stop with one) to convert traffic into leads.

Tom Casano, Life Coach Spotter

The successful strategy that I use is driving traffic to a landing page, optimizing that landing page, and then converting that traffic into leads.

Sounds obvious, but there are a lot of tweaks along the way. I’m testing Facebook advertising right now. Most of our traffic comes from Google search. Optimizing landing pages takes relentless testing. Also, with less fields for the lead to fill out, we can get more client leads, but they’d be lower-quality. On the other hand, we can get higher-quality client leads if we add more fields to the form, but there’d be less of them.

 12 – Are you using Facebook Community Group Pages? Here’s why you should:

Shauna Whiting, Clothesland Resale Boutique

As a startup, I tried every advertisement source out there. I used newspapers, radio, flyers, face to face marketing, networking and even paid for Facebook ads. Feeling frustrated with not seeing any results I continued to search for other advertisement sources that’s when I stumbled

on the* Facebook Community Group Pages*. Wow, what a difference it has made in generating new leads. It’s like an online classified page that every time you post each post gets looked at by 1000’s of people looking for just what you are selling. I see at least a customer a day from the community pages I post.

 13 – Ask you old leads and customers for referrals. Simple but effective.

Whitney Keyes, Founder & CEO, Whitney Keyes

Hands down, the best way to generate new leads is to go back to your old leads, either to ask them for referrals or to drum up new business from them – again!

I’ve used this technique many times with my clients over the years, and in my own business, and the results are instant and always revenue generating.

14 – Consider what keywords your ideal customers would use to find your product/ service and sprinkle them throughout your blog post (in a natural and relevant way).

Jacob Lumby, M.Sc., Founder, Cash Cow Couple

Our business has had a lot of success generating leads through search engine traffic. We make a list of questions that customers are likely to ask Google, then we write a post answering each question. In the end, you get very targeted traffic and the ability to build trust with readers by solving their question or problem.

 15 – Are you involved with your local Chamber of Commerce?

Brad A. Swezey, President, JustSmallBiz Marketing

One of my favorite strategies for getting new leads is to go to Chamber of Commerce seminars and workshops and to introduce myself to small business owners there. I collect their business cards, send them an e-mail asking if they want to get together for a one-to-one, where we can learn about each other’s businesses. Many times this leads me to get a new client without spending much money at all.

 16 – Target that one individual who’s responsible for deciding whether or not to use your product/service.

Linda Parry, Esq., Chief Executive Officer, Product Launchers

What many companies do not realize is that there is ONE person responsible for making a decision about your product or service. Put together a hit list of companies that you want to work with – that are aligned with your offering – and then find out who that one person is through online research and cold calling. Once you have their contact information, personalize your outreach. If you leave a voicemail and reference your VM in your email, you’re more than likely to get a response from them.

 17 – Start with the gap between tracking leads and attribution.

Edgar Cerecerez, Marketing Specialist, Northridge Software Company

It’s not one specific marketing channel like social media, ads, or newsletters. It’s more of focusing on the channel that will provide the biggest ROI for the effort. It truly has more to do with strategy and analysis than a particular channel. I would recommend starting with an analysis of current marketing strategies and past performance. With smaller companies, often you’ll find a gap in tracking leads and attribution – start there.

In general, the biggest source of lead will be from a well-developed website. Focus on content, design, user experience. It’s a channel that provides leads continuously providing an outsized ROI. It’s where at Nortridge we have put most of our focus on, building an online community, brand recognition, and expertise.

 18 – Do you have a compelling opt-in offer on your website?

Iola Yhap, Speaker, Business Trainer, Author

My opt-in offer on my website has generated new leads for me. I have a blueprint to help women escape their 9-5 as my Opt-in offer, then I add those emails to my list to build a relationship and market to.

19 – Use networking to better understand your customer’s pain points and the language they use to describe their goals.

Rob Watson, Click to Sale

My favorite way of generating leads is still networking. I love digital and it’s right at the heart of what I do, but face-to-face contact can’t be beaten for impact and the ability to have a two-way dialogue. Being an experienced presenter I regularly offer to present for free at events too.

I always keep it informative and non-salesy, and I tend to find that even a third-hand recommendation from someone who saw my presentation and told a friend, can be warmer than a complete stranger coming to my website.

Networking isn’t just great in its own right, but it helps your other marketing communications too. When you go out and meet people and really listen to them, you get to understand what their real problems are, the language they use and their common misunderstandings. That can only help with your copywriting, persona building and coming up with new content ideas.

20 – Use content creation (articles, videos, infographics) to compete with the big dogs.

Taylor Kerby, Creative Director, Cave Social

When large companies with massive marketing budgets spend outrageous amounts of money on ads, it forces smaller businesses to get smart. At Cave Social, we combat this with content creation. We can’t win with ad spend, but we can win by being smarter and creating articles, videos, and infographics that will give us a fighting chance of being found.

 21 – Referrals are the gift that keeps on giving. Your referral customers will come to you with built-in trust.

Brett Bastian, CEO, Blast Moba

There are lots of ways our company generates leads. What we have found to be the most effective is referrals. We go back to previous clients and offer them a gift card for every person they refer. We then contact the referral using the name of the person that referred them. Since they have a relationship with the lead the trust is already built. Referrals have the highest close ratio for us. It is a cheap lead to produce and most of them do business with us.

22 – Use case studies to woo your customers.

David Klein, Director of Marketing, ClickTime

Emailing potential customers with links to case studies have been incredibly successful for us. A proper case study — one that demonstrates clear, quantifiable ROI for a specific vertical or need — validates the work you do and helps set your sales team up for success. Unlike white papers or ebooks, case studies are relatively quick and affordable to produce, and they resonate with potential customers at all levels in an organization, from individual contributor to CEO.

23 – Here’s three strategies that work well for generating leads:

Alex Mason, CloseFox

Cold Email: This works in a high volume scenario (sending at least 100 customized emails a week). It normally converts to about 2% of emails sent become leads. They still need to be qualified and pursued.

Twitter: Tweeting relevant information at companies works, but then begins the process of identifying the decision makers. It works more for connecting with influencers that can then open their network.

Media coverage: If the media that mentions you is not industry specific or does not contain your target customer then it will likely be ineffective. It is good for branding but does not necessarily connect you with buying customers.

Each of these methods have their pros and cons. The less personal methods like cold emailing work but take a large number of contacts to get results. In person, events are effective but are very time-consuming. Every industry is different. I have effectively found leads using every strategy but have always found that face to face interaction or referrals are the most effective.

 24 – Make alliances with your top customers. Promote them as trusted partners.

Elene Cafasso, Enerpace, Inc.  

Develop some strategic alliances who automatically refer to you as part of the way they do business. For instance, every client of mine receives a certificate good for a complimentary consultation as part of my “Preferred Partners Program”. My partners include a vocal/presentation expert, a financial advisor, professional organizer and executive attorney – all services that make sense for my busy clients. And all of my partners’ clients get a certificate entitling them to a free session with one of Enerpace’s coaches. It’s a win/win/win!

25 – Last, but not least, remember that there’s no one way to generate leads. You should create a strategy.

Tim Gilboy, Franchise Help

Over the last several years we have developed a strategy that allows us to generate a high volume of leads every month. The biggest thing we’ve found is that there isn’t a single perfect solution when it comes to generating leads – you need to use a diverse set of tools to target a broad audience and to reduce the volatility in lead gen over time. Our primary methods are direct email, Facebook ads, and Google Adwords because they allow us to target a broad audience. But these aren’t the only forms of lead generation we use – we are constantly experimenting and testing new methods and new platforms and I think this is a must if you want to be successful in lead generation.

Want to manage 1000’s of leads, save time, and get organized? Click Here to get our FREE CRM guide and find out how.

It’s Your Turn

Do you have a favorite way to generate leads that we haven’t covered in the list above? We want to know about it. Share your best idea in the comments below.

Go to our website:   www.ncmalliance.com

25 Lead Generation Ideas From The Pros By Jaqueline Thomas Are you looking for effective, new ways to generate leads for your business? Well, you’re in luck!

[dsmspurs]

My  THFC Thoughts on 2017

We are hours from wrapping up 2017, and in contemplation, decided it would be worth an attempt to put the year, as it pertained to Spurs, on wax.  Hope you enjoy.

Lesson’s Learned:

Tottenham had an arguably tumultuous past twelve-months, and I certainly don’t mean that in a negative way, but more in terms of a reflection on the ups and downs that the squad has recently seen.  A second consecutive season in which Spurs pushed for the title is something to hang the club’s hat on, being that the club’s stated target was to make consecutive Champions League showings.  However, with those consecutive seasons of pushing, but subsequently falling short, comes the lingual fact that Tottenham did fall short in consecutive seasons at a time in which titles would have stamped the beginning of a era.  

That being said, it is incredibly easy to forget that the club is young, hungry, and littered with real quality.  Spurs have seen their $5,000,000 investment in Dele pay off monumentally, both fiscally and with his play on the field.  With this, Christian Eriksen is certainly starting to fulfill his hype, Erik Lamela has returned from elongated injury with a vengeance, and Harry Kane, well, he needs to explanation.  Furthermore, players such as Harry Winks, Victor Wanyma and Eric Dier insure that Spurs will have a midfield to reckon with for the foreseeable future.  It is hard to argue that titles are not en route to Mauricio Pochettino and his men, even if City are miles ahead in the Premier League.  Do not forget that Tottenham achieved the highest points-total of anyone in the Champions League group stage, and they did so after being labeled as favorite to fail from the “group of death,” a monumental achievement for the young side and it’s green manager.

So, while the club continue to look back on it’s shortcomings in the league, it must follow it’s Manager in putting it in the past, and looking towards the future. In looking at the West Ham loss, the Chelsea loss the season before, or anything else, you can’t put the third and second place finishes at the hands of those individual performances, as it takes an entire season to become champions, and this would have become evident to the players. With each opportunity missed, a lesson was learned, and both the individual player and the team as a whole, under the guidance of Pochettino, will use it to be more prepared when the next opportunity comes.  The manager and the player certainly won’ t forget this, and the fans must equally-remember such.

Kyle Walker (& Serge Aurier): 

I will start by rightfully admitting that I have referred to the man as a snake.  I could live with his decision to leave, I really could, but what I couldn’t handle were two things:  Firstly, the right-back went to the manager months before the season had concluded, in the middle of a title-fight, and let him know that his heart was no longer at the club.  And secondly, when he did make his move, he was quick to praise his new manager while subsequently insinuating that his previous manager wasn’t quite on the same level.  This, to the fan an the manager equally, was unacceptable. 

However, again, I can understand the desire to move back to where his wife’s family resides, and I will do my best to continue without bias. 

Walker has undoubtedly been fantastic this season for the league-leaders.  His presence on the right flank, making the entire length of the pitch his, has been instrumental in City’s ability to punish it’s opponents.  To say that Spurs aren’t lacking his pace and ability would be as stubborn as opinions come, so I will not go that far, as Walker again, has been fantastic. Furthermore, seeing City prosper from his play does make one think that strengthening a direct-rival is never a positive thing, no matter the fee for that player.  However, I am not prepared to say that Tottenham are not better off for the sale of Walker and the following purchase of Serge Aurier.

Aurier comes from a tumultuous past, having used homophobic slang to the press, and having his a constable (police officer) during a night out.  Typically, this wouldn’t be the sort of personality that Pochettino would go for, but the manager saw something in the young Ivorian that drew interest.  The right-back was obviously talented, and as Mauricio told the press, he was confident that he could help the player grow both personally and professionally.  

The player did take some time to settle in, but as of date, it appears that the manager has handed the shirt to Aurier.  His consecutive starts speaks to such, but do expect plenty of rotation, as Pochettino favors rotation at the fullback position above all else, being they are so crucial for his system. Aurier brings pace, power, precision and an obvious ability to get balls into the box, which again, is crucial to the system.  At just 24 years of age, he will have plenty of time to grow, and by the time he is Walker’s age (27), his prime, it is hard to believe that he will not be giving teams a real headache down the right-side, doing so in a manner that lacks nothing in comparison to Walker. 

So, while losing Walker was a sour-blow to the gut of all associated with the club, I am comfortable saying that we are no worse-off than we were with Walker, especially in having two quality fullbacks down the right-side who want to be at the club.

Spurs in Nashville:

Okay, Okay, you had to be there,  you really did.  Therefore, I won’t go on forever, but Nashville Spurs and their crew did us fans proud down there.  The entire experience, from the opening social to the after-party, was top-notch.  The first night, at the Belcourt Taps, a fair few of us lost of voice (and maybe our memories), and I know the entire neighborhood was trying to figure out what was happening.  The front patio was rocking and it may very well be the greatest moment of mine as a Spurs fan to-date, including my times at the Lane.  

The Group Stage:

Wow, what an incredible ride those six games were.  Not only did we show that we are growing as a unit and as a club, we did so in striking fashion with the rest of Europe against us.  Son Hueng-Min reminded the world that he is incredibly talented, Harry Winks played the likes of Modric, Kroos, Gotze and Sahin off of the pitch, and Harry Kane bagged himself six Champions League goals to add to his tally and end any speculation that he can’t “do it in Europe.”

The most mind-bending fact in all of this was that two of our three opponents either held the title, or had been playing for it in very recent times.  Many factored Spurs out of the running from the beginning, and after their previous group staging showing, it was hard to disagree, but the squad proved all of us wrong.  This is the real sign of growth within the organization and allows me to comfortable saying that very good things are on the horizon for the North London club.

Spurs will now face Juventus on the round-of-sixteen, a formidable opponent, but also an opponent that Spurs have beaten on the season already, albeit it was a pre-season match.  Juventus boasts a threatening attack and a sturdy defense, but Spurs have fared very well this season against teams that have taken the game to them, as Juventus likely will.

Wembley:

Glad we can finally put that to bed.  The “who-doo” nonsense was getting a bit out of hand, and was subsequently becoming very-much unwelcomed within the organization.  Spurs have now won the past three matches at home in the league, and have not lost at home since the home-opener to Chelsea.  Furthermore, Tottenham smashed both Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund, and that in itself is enough to end the discussion that Spurs can’t perform at the national Stadium.

However, looking forward to next year, back at home….

The Premier League, thus-far:

Hard to kick this portion off with a smile on my face, but what can you say?  City have been outstanding on the season, and are continuously showing that it is going to be incredibly hard to catch them.  They continue to punish their fellow-top-six, and seem to slice through even the most astute of defenses with ease.  Spurs are now twenty-two points behind, but do have a game in hand on the table-toppers.  With competition from all around us, to win the league would be nothing of the greatest comeback in the league’s history, but it is a wonderful opportunity to continue to push ourselves and grow as a club.

There is a lot stacked against the team this year, and it should not go without mention.  Not only is the team playing it’s home matches at an unfamiliar stadium, one that lacks the punch of it’s old ground, but it also is facing plenty of individual hurdles, on the pitch.  Two of the staple-players in our back-line are new to the team and the league, and they are being asked to adjust quickly, and are doing so quite-well.  Dele Alli is facing the pressure of being a world-wide name for the first time, and Harry Kane is facing expectations that continue to grow with each time he nets. With this, the team’s midfield and defensive generals, Victor Wanyama and Toby Alderweireld, have missed most of the season on injury.

In considering the aforementioned, it’s hard  to say that Spurs haven’t dealt with all of their woes with grace and confidence.  Harry Winks has been astute, Sanchez has (as previously mentioned) made the adjustment to the starting-eleven with class, and Serge Aurier is finding his feet, all of which will propel Spurs and be silver linings to come from devastating injuries.  When Wanyama and Alderweireld return, the team will be well-equipped to make a strong finish and being hanging around, should City slip (drastically).

So, while the title might be out of reach, let’s say that this Premier League second-half is going to be a fantastic opportunity for the team to solidify itself and prepare for the next term, in which the fan-base and the team itself will have high expectations. 

The FA Cup:

Not much to say here - we need a trophy, and we need to go after this one.  

In Wrapping-up:

2017 has had it’s ups and it’s downs for Spurs, but we must ride all of the aforementioned positives and continue on.  2018 will be the year that sees us open our new stadium, and could be the year that potentially sees Spurs make its first Champions League push.  Lots to look forward to, and lots of reasons to be a part of Tottenham Hotspur. 

[itsworn]

Mopar Highlights From The Winternats In Pomona!

Mopars stand up and salute the Chrysler flag at the 2017 NHRA Winternationals.

The NHRA kicked their season opener Winternationals in Pomona on February 9 -12, and despite being outnumbered by the Chevy and Ford camps in the Stock and Super Stock classes, the Mopar contingent put on a great show by running fast and going rounds. This year’s event had scores of iconic Dodge and Plymouth muscle that included Hemis, Max Wedges, 440 Six Packs, and numerous small-blocks in various configurations, blasting down the strip and hangin’ ’em high.

The Winternationals is steeped in tradition as it’s been held at the same location since its inaugural event in 1961. The starting line at the LA County Fairgrounds (now called Auto Club Raceway at Pomona) has seen its share of Mopar heroes like Garlits, Sox, and Landy, who dumped the clutch and turned their slicks in anger. They assaulted the quarter-mile with the intentions of putting the opponent in the next lane on the trailer and sending them packing.

It might be 2017, but the staging lanes at the Winternationals were filled vintage Mopars from the last 50 years that were ready once again to do battle on these sacred grounds. But don’t let the appearance of the vintage Chrysler racing iron fool you. Under the hoods, the engines have the latest technology in cylinder head, camshaft, piston ring, and block machining to squeeze the last ounce of power while making sure it passes the NHRA’s Tech Department litmus test for Stock and Super Stock legality.

But forgot all the techno-babble for a moment and just enjoy this awesome collection of images of Mopars doing what they do best when they hit the strip and do battle at the NHRA Winternationals!

Longtime Mopar racer Don Little and his ’70 Hemi Challenger Stocker is the car we’d like to take to the cruise night and car show. He qualified his E-Body in the number four spot with a 9.849 at 133.22 mph.

Stock and Super Stock have some interesting combinations and John Dourlet’s ’70 Plymouth Duster is one of them. Take the approved 5.9L Magnum from the Mopar Drag Pak, drop it into a Duster, and you get a FGT/J combo. John went four rounds and received the Dodge Top Finisher Award for Super Stock.

“West Coast” Jerry Stein’s 440 Dart was dialed-in and on target during the Winternats. It clicked off a string of consistent 10.70 e.t.s while breathing through the factory Carter AVS carb. He made it to the quarterfinals.

Steve Wann’s ’62 413 Max Wedge Plymouth Sport Fury was the oldest Mopar in the pits but then again, the first Winternationals was held in 1961.

Don’t tell Mike Cotton from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma that you can’t make a 383 run. He’s extracted a ton of power from the B-engine all while adhering to the strict NHRA Super Stock rules.

Still kicking ass and taking names at the Winternationals for over 50 years, the 426 Max Wedge still remains a killer package in Stock Eliminator. John Shaul’s AA/SA ’64 Fury launches like a guided missile.

This ’71 ’Cuda E/SA Stocker stood out from the pack. A stout high-compression 340 sits under that Shaker and when driver Chad Landon whacks the Thermoquad, it moves out in a hurry.

Second-generation Mopar racer Jon Irving may have had his ’71 Demon 340 tamed down, but it still left the starting line like a bat out Hell.

The slowest Mopar competing at the NHRA Winternationals was Bill O’Connor’s ’80 Horizon EF/S entry. It traveled the quarter-mile in 16.94 but fell victim in round one.

Recent NHRA rule revisions allow the 1966-’67 Street Hemi Dodge Coronets (and their Plymouth counterparts) running in Stock Eliminator the use of “RO/WO Package Car” goodies such as hood scoop, Vanke Intake, battery in trunk, and other cool things. Dwight Machael’s A/SA entry puts them to good use.

Darrin Smith knocked the dust off his ’68 440 Dart and brought it to the Winternats. The SS/FA machine had been parked for while as Darrin built his ’64 383 Dodge Stocker. It’s good to see the machine again.

We’re jealous of Steve Wann; he entered the Winternationals with two Plymouth Max Wedge cars. His super clean white ’63 Super Stocker (and his ’62 413 Max Wedge Stocker) both mean business.

This ’67 Plymouth Belvedere II Street Hemi Super Stocker was simply stunning. It made its NHRA national event debut at Pomona and Ryan Mangus wasted no time breaking it in.

Once again, West Coast racer Randy Loge brought his ’72 Demon 340 to play with the Chevys and Fords. The high-flying A-Body hooks hard, goes straight, and is super consistent when it comes to running the numbers.

This ’63 426 Max Wedge Plymouth Savoy looks like a time machine that could transport us back in time. With low 10 second e.t.s, it would be a quick trip.

Wagons in all body styles are cool. A low-compression 318 breathing through a Carter Thermoquad might power John Irving’s ‘78 Dodge Aspen, but it will plant you firmly in the seat when the gas pedal gets mashed.

Tim Hall has been racing his ’74 Dart Sport 360 for years. The “smogger” small-block clicks off low tens at ease without breaking a sweat.

It’s not 426 Hemi, 426 Max Wedge, or even a 426 Street Wedge. Darrin Smith, always up to a challenge, built a 383 for this ’64 Dodge Stocker. Based on the time slips we’ve seen, he’s got it figured out.

We love the variety of engine combos in Super Stock and the ’65 Dodge of John Winslow Sr. is a prime example. He runs the lowly 426 Street Wedge but has no problem making the competition look twice when he leaves the starting line.

Small-block Darts make killer race cars, and Larry Gilley’s ’69 Swinger is a prime example. Its high-compression, high-winding 340 runs heads-up with various big-block Chevys in the E/SA class and in most cases, puts them on the trailer.

Former NHRA World Champion Chuck Rayburn usually runs his cross ram Race Hemi ’64 Plymouth in Stock Eliminator, but he wanted to try out some new parts. He moved over to Super Stock during the Winternationals but was sidelined early.

The semi-final B/SA matchup featured Chad Loge’s ’70 440 Six Barrel GTX up against Jerry Emmons’s 396/375 Camaro. Loge had a killer .018 light but the Chevy just got him at the top end.

Another semi-final race had two A-Bodies going at it. Justin Jerome’s ’73 Duster 340 got the win as John Irvin’s ’71 Demon 340 broke out by a mere 0.003 of a second. Justin was on his way to the finals.

Justin Jerome’s Duster 340 marched all the way to the finals but had to settle for R/U against Emmons big-block Camaro. Justin had a better reaction time but took too much of the stripe and broke out by 0.045. Justin didn’t walk away empty handed, he got a check for $500 from Dodge for being the Top Finisher in Stock Eliminator.

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